Tonight on House, Wilson says to House something along the lines of, “Did it ever occur to you that I might be going through something and want to have a real conversation about it?”

House brushes it off with a, “Then I’d say you’ve made some bad choices.” As if to say that he’s not the kind of person who does that.

Now, I know I’m wildly paraphrasing their conversation, but it does beg this question be ask: what sort of friend are you? What sort of friend am I? When people are going through something, are we the type of people they can trust to hear them out?

Do you even have any friends like that? I have at least one or two. People I can talk to and lean on. It’s not a mutual admiration club, but it’s something meaningful. I thank God for these people, especially when it comes down to crunch time and stuff goes wrong. And I hope that I can be that to other people as well.

Lord, I’d like to thank you for
the glass in my throat
and how you’re teaching me
to swallow difficult things:
it reminds me of swinging round
the pole and the stitches
between my toes.

And thank you for giving me
two birds in a bush:
you’re reminding me of
nursing robins back to health,
of watching them bobble
off after worms.

Thank you helplessness
at the hands of apes with scalpels
and breadcrumbs (not so long
ago I was a bird, I was a boy).

One more thing. There’s something
I’ve been tossing up in the air
and catching on a regular basis;
if you could slip it into
my pocket, I’d be ever so
grateful.

When you chew, do it slowly. You’ll enjoy the food more that way.

Don’t be afraid. Fear is the mind-killer: there are so many things to be afraid of and so little time in which to bow to those fears. Let them pass through you, instead, and make you stronger.

Be mature. But don’t let people tell you that maturity means pissing on other people’s parades. Let people tell you that maturity is about making good decisions.

Speak clearly. Say what you mean, and say it well. Don’t talk in half-thoughts and partial opinions.

Change your mind. If you’re wrong, admit it. But don’t just admit it and go on secretly thinking the same thing. Change your mind, and roll with it. Let your mind change your life.

Don’t live in others’ affirmation. Your worth is not determined by how many people like you or laugh at your jokes.

Don’t be a jerk. But don’t be too nice either. Everyone hates an idiot, but no one trusts a pushover.

Live like you mean it. Life isn’t made for half things. Either go whole-hog or don’t go at all. Better the person who lands on his feet than the one who never jumped.

Treat people like you want to be treated. However, if you want to be treated like a piece of tender foliage, get over yourself. You’re not that fragile.

Don’t be afraid to stand up. People are always going to tell you that you’re wrong. If you have to be wrong, at least be in the right. And people aren’t always right that you’re wrong. Sometimes they’re wrong, even if they’re twenty years older than you.

Get some experience. But if your experience makes you act like a fool, don’t expect people to respect that. Experience that isn’t backed up by action is worthless. You could wallpaper your house with 70-year-old idiots.

Love other people. You will get hurt. Get over it. Life is tough. Suck it up. Cry on someone’s shoulder, and let someone cry on yours, but stop crying eventually.

Just do it. But think about it first. If you need to think about it that much, there’s something wrong and it’s probably you.

Respect intuition. God gave it to you for a reason. Intuition is not, however, infallible, and neither are you.

Resist catch-phrases. Anything that can be summed up in under five words is suspect. Flesh it out.

Live for real. Idealism is fine, if your idealism matches up to the reality that you actually, you know, live in. Idealism that shoots for the impossible is almost always damaging.

Speak up. If everyone’s quiet, everyone’s dead. Your tongue is a weapon: use it when you need to.

Shut up. If everyone’s talking, no one’s listening. Your ears are there for a reason: use them at all costs.

If there’s one thing I brought back from the message at MaryBeth’s wedding this weekend, it’s that we Reformers sure like to talk about the Covenant. In fact, if you’ve ever seen the catechism material our churches like to use - at least the few I’ve been to - you’ll understand. As a friend pointed out to me, every single lesson is about covenant.

The interesting thing in watching messages or listening to messages from outside my circles is how they seem to focus on Jesus, almost never mentioning any Covenant of any kind. Not because they necessarily aren’t covenantal in their theology, but more because it’s not something that’s in the forefront of their minds or tacked on as the foreword to every concept.

I’ll be the first person to tell you that covenant is essential. For Israel, their covenant with Yahweh was the jewel (or the centrepiece) of their entire faith as it was expressed in the nation itself. They were in a much more tangible sense than we are in direct, visible covenant with God. But at the same time, the covenant itself isn’t the endgame: there’s more to it. In fact, the whole thing points in the end to the person who made it with the people who joined into it by choice or otherwise. For the Jews of the Old Testament, that person was God as he revealed himself to them. Covenantally, to be sure. But in the end, the Jews came to focus on that covenant instead of what it pointed to, I think. That is to say, their nationhood and its personality in relation to this earth became more important - think of the uprising during Roman times - than what it actually meant.

More to the point, they concentrated on the relationship more than they concentrated on the author of the relationship. In that, they became static: the OT covenant was very much about the Mosaic Law, and the Mosaic Law became something of an idol to the religious leaders, regardless of their particular racing stripes. They guarded it with their verbal law, basically hedging the Law around with “safeguards”, or garnishing the ground around their statue. Whatever you prefer to call it. Eventually it got so bad that the garnish obscured the object of their effections, and I think that’s when it all went bad. Not only had they removed the Covenant from the context of relationship with Yahweh, they also removed the Law from its context of that relationship until there was such a divide between what the Law and Covenant really meant and what it was supposed to represent that they couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

Not, of course, to say “screw the covenant and concentrate on the relationship”, but instead put your Law back in the context it deserves and let it show you the things it’s meant to show you. I think this is part of what Jesus came to show to the people of Israel: your Covenant with Yahweh is not about your nationhood. Your nationhood is, instead, about God. But of course, once your nation is the penultimate theological drive in your life, it’s difficult not to crucify the things getting in the way.

Not only that, Jesus came to tell them the same thing that Hebrews tells us. Both Covenants, however you arrange and separate them, are about the Christ. The law is imperfect in that it cannot save. The old covenant is imperfect in that it centres around that Law. Christ, however, is perfect in that he can and does save from sin, and the new covenant in his blood is therefore perfect. This is, I think, extremely orthodox.

But the same thing applies today: our faith is not about the new covenant. The new covenant is, instead, about Christ’s death and resurrection. And when I say a generous orthodoxy in the title of this post, what I mean to say is that we - focusing perhaps too tightly on covenants - and those such as the Emergent Church - focusing perhaps too tightly on Christ - are pretty much saying the same thing.

This is how I would say it: the covenant is not the centrepiece of our Christian faith. No, Jesus Christ is, and our relationship to him as individuals, churches, and the church. We are in a covenantal relationship with him, yes, but let’s not get all hung up on what type of relationship that is all the time, because while it may be academically helpful and scripturally fruitful, it’s just a means to an end. The means: covenant. The end: relationship with Jesus.

I heard a pastor friend of mine once comment that a sermon isn’t quite complete without Jesus. All of scripture points to him. The finger it uses is these different covenants, and though we may not agree on all the garnish, we do have a point of ecumenical agreement with other churches in that fact, whether we talk about the relationship or the object of it.

Which is just my way of saying that we aren’t so different after all.

I threw a little something together at work today. Don’t worry, it’s no masterpiece. This is basically a really short song that doesn’t have any purpose other than practice for me. It consists of a drum loop I threw together, a Ben Gibbards acoustic guitar intro looped and distorted, several audio samples of famous people saying famous things, some hand drums played by American Indians, and some Mid-east Asian guy crooning something or other.

You can download or listen by clicking here.

I usually like Mondays because I get the most done on them, because they go by quickly, and because I’m always pretty ready to get back to work by then.

Today’s different. I’m edgy. Tense. It’s weird and not at all pleasant.

The wedding was nice, also. Just thought I’d let everyone know. Richard and MaryBeth look perfectly happy together, as any wedded couple should.

Alright, no I’m not really doing any work, nor am I getting paid for it. But here I am, at my old familiar desk, typing on this same awkward keyboard.

My cousin is getting married today. Yep, yet another cousin is getting married. And I’m going to be there - and in style, too, as I’ll be driving in my parents’ fancy SUV. With movies. My movies.

Lent is here! And for those of you who don’t know what Lent is, I would suggest that you look it up. I have given up something for Lent, yes, although I’m not going to tell you what that is, obstensibly in order for me not resemble a monk flogging himself in the public square.

And in other related news… nothing else new is happening. Have a great Saturday, unless it’s already Sunday where you are. In that case, it’s Sunday! Yay!

Do you ever wonder what if? I do. What if the hard times didn’t happen? Would I still be the same person I am today?

And I don’t know. Nobody ever gets to know. But it’s an interesting question. We all take it for granted that hard times either make you or break you. So which one is it? How do you tell afterwards if a struggle brought you closer to God than you otherwise would have been?

Maybe a moot point in the end.

Here’s a newsflash for you: you just don’t get to know God’s will.

But… but… you say… I’ve been searching for it my whole life! Let me ask you a question. How’s that going for you? Not that well, eh? No wet fleeces on dry ground? No angels appearing to lead you out of Sodom? No pigs flying overhead?

I’ll be frank. I’m sick of this evangelical culture geared to constantly looking for some clue, some sign that they’re doing the right thing, as if somehow you’re going to look up one day and see “In this sign conquer”. Where in scripture do people get this stuff? What is it that makes them second-guess themselves under the guise of searching out God’s will? God’s will is inscrutible. His thoughts are way, way above anything you can ever imagine (see, that one’s in the Bible, people) and if you did get to know his will, you probably would be wondering why the Fitzgerald he’s doing that!

See, I think what hinders us from just getting it is partly the way we’re curious little buggers, us humans, but also the way we word this idea. Look at it. “God’s will” means what exactly? Does it mean his plan for our lives, or just what he would have us do? If the latter, why use the word “will” at all? Why not just say “I want to do what God would have me do”, which is much, much clearer? Plus, “finding” this “will” implies that it’s a big secret and that somehow we’ve got to dig and dig and dig to search it out as if we’re stuck in some sort of maze with a definite solution. Not only is what God wants you to do not that hard to figure out (generally) considering that he wrote a book and gave it to the Church, but it seems we like to trade in the shovel of scripture for the teaspoons and dull sticks of signs in the sky. You see what I mean when I say that out wording is unhelpful?

The classical solution to understanding what God wants is that he’s got a plan, you’re part of the plan, and you don’t get to know the plan. You probably shouldn’t even want to know the plan. What you do get to know, however, is that the plan is a good one (again, that one’s in scripture: Jeremiah 29:11-13). The rest is up to you. That’s right. But it’s not like you get set adrift in a sea of moral indifference and any choice you make is just fine; you don’t get to toss down a deck and pick up whatever card you like. What you need to know for life - indeed, just about everything you need to know to live properly - is in what we like to call God’s revealed will. That is to say, scripture.

Here’s a thought. Maybe if you stopped looking for God’s will in the advice of friends, circumstances, talents, the alignment of planets, and spotted goats; and instead cracked open those scriptures everyone keeps talking about as the basis for your faith you might understand a little better what’s going on and how to respond. Isn’t that simple? Almost too simple!

Of course, my circles are abundantly clear in our separation from typical evangelicalism, but we still fall victim to this jargonism; I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve attended Bible Studies and focus groups and discussions on “Finding God’s Will For Your Life”. I also can’t tell you how many times these things have had absolutely nothing to do with God’s will (except in a cursory manner) and instead focused on what smells suspiciously like “Making Sensible Plans”.

But isn’t that what it’s really about anyways? How often will someone come along and say “Oh, well the Lord gave you talents and you should use them!” as if this is somehow the Grand Revelation and the Big Red Key to unlock the Big Red Door? It’s like, well duh! Some people have talents that lead them to preach; I’m not saying no one will ever feel that “call”, or that God won’t give you a sign. But at the end of the day, when someone feels called to preach, the elders who examine this man don’t ask for audio or video of the experience, dust him for God’s fingerprint, or point the Bible at him to see if it magically flips open to the Great Commission. They examine him against the rule of scripture, and they should also be examining him to see if he has the raw stuff of preaching. (As an aside, there are a great number of preachers out there that should have been strongly discouraged from ever becoming preachers and pastors but weren’t because the subjective “call” is given so much more weight over the objective criterion as spelled out in the Bible and plain for the eye to see. Some people just don’t cut it, and should have been sent back to plant corn or write computer code or become doctors. And these things aren’t particularly hard to determine, I don’t think.)

But at the end of the day, when you’re deciding if it’s God’s Will ™ for you to become either a lawyer or a welder, are you really prepared to say that only one of these choices is legitimate in view of God’s pre-ordinance? Why should you? Pick the one that makes the most sense: if you are a great communicator and can argue a point well and convince people of your position, become a lawyer. If you really, really like the way sparks hit the floor and bounce a bit before flickering out, hey, become a welder. Either one is a vocation in which you can glorify God.

Frankly, God gave you common sense - at least, I hope he did - so use it. It’s not really that hard.

Let me give you an example of the ridiculous frilled shirts that go under the suit jacket of Finding God’s Will, and one that has personally touched me many, many times. A guy is going out with a girl. Somebody with a vested interest - and they only do this when they have a vested interest and they think that you’re wrong in what you’re doing - says something along the lines of, “Well, you should cool things down between the two of you and break off contact, and if it lasts through that, you’ll be more sure that it’s God’s will.” And of course, whenever I hear that, I get - shall we say - slightly frustrated. First off, what the Hemingway kind of logic is that? Relationships take work (just like cars take gasoline and oil changes, and babies take breastmilk and diaper changes), and when you truly distance yourself from it, well, it begins to fall apart. Does anyone suggest that you stop adding gasoline to your car and if it keeps running you should be pretty darn sure that God wants you to have that car? Of course not, because it’s just a car and God’s will for our car doesn’t often enter our minds regardless of the fact that God’s plan involves cars, pomegranites, cheese, and serrated knives. And yes, a car is a whole lot less important than a life partner.

The logic is at best misguided and probably worse, deceitful. Everyone tacitly knows that a relationship falls apart when you stop working on it. How is that finding God’s will? If you stop working on it, well, you’re making it stop working. And if someone pipes up and says, “Well if it didn’t just happen, it must not be God’s will!” as if a romance just blooms and blossoms in a cold basement without water, that’s not finding anything remotely earth-shattering. No, dummy, either way, you’re imposing your own will on the situation. If you keep working, maybe it keeps working. If you stop working, it stops working for sure. In that light, the rhetoric of “stepping out on faith” becomes abundantly clear - where did God ever say in scripture that you need to be completely and utterly stupid to find out what God wants? It’s like saying that the best way to find out whether or not gravity is God’s will for your life is to step off a bridge; but then, we all know how that works out.

But let’s cut the - if you’ll excuse my French - bullshit and stop wrapping the coal of making good decisions in the Christmas bows and ribbons of finding God’s will. If you were to tell me that sometimes you need to step back from things in order to get a good perspective on them, then I’d agree heartily. Sometimes a little distance comes in handy. Step back, evaluate based on scripture and good old common sense, and if things seem alright, fine and away you go. I would think this more analogous to dropping a rock off the aforementioned bridge to see it gravity is still working. Or more to the point, you don’t need to shoot yourself in the head to find out if the pistol you’re holding is loaded. Maybe shoot some squirrels. And if that works out, maybe it’s God’s will for your life that you join the army.

Even Augustine said - and although he isn’t scripture, it adds some weight to the argument - “Love God, and then do whatever you like.” You’ll read this and it’ll seem like a contradiction. But no, that’s the genius of it: if you’re loving God, what you want will conform to his will. If you’re living your life to “glorify God and enjoy him forever” like the Catechism says, saturating your decisions in scripture and prayer (something I have neglected to dwell on until now… sorry), your decisions are going to have a natural bent toward pleasing God.

Of course it’s not always that easy: some things are ambiguous. But it’s better that way, really. If you got to see God’s plan for you life, being human, I can almost guarantee you wouldn’t like it that much. Which is probably the plan behind not getting to know the plan. But let’s stop it with the jargon, already. As Gordon Korman once said, you keep adding sugar to coffee, and eventually it comes out tasting like diesel fuel.

dan (thinks the wording of “finding God’s will” is probably the least helpful wording ever)

I’m adding a little postscript - I thank God for it being his will that I not post this fresh off the keys - to point out a relevant scripture: “Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” That’s from Psalm 37:4. Argue with that. I dare you.