A God Who Creates Good Things

Click here to read the creation accounts

God saw everything he had made: it was supremely good.

The Creation accounts are one of the many things that split us as people of faith. Are they real? Are these events that actually happened? Are they newspaper accounts? If not, some will say, how can we trust any of it? If they are then, well, there are other questions. Things having to do with dinosaurs and prehistoric man and so on and so forth.

I’m not particularly invested in these arguments myself. It seems like dinosaurs probably existed and I believe God created everything that is. I also believe that there wasn’t anyone around to witness it to write down these details. There weren’t any people for the first 5 days for goodness sake.

I also happen to know that the Hebrew people were not interested in history the way we are. They didn’t tell history through a process of meticulous discovery and fact-finding. They told history through using poetic language and imagery- in such a way as to connect with history- not merely to recite information about it. Frankly, it would be silly to them to think that there would one day be court cases about how to present the Bible in schools. It was never about knowledge- it was about communicating something about God.

What do these stories tell us about God?

Well, many things.

• God is a craftsman.

• God took great care in each aspect of creation and seems to respect his creation. All things- high and low.

• God recognizes his creation has needs- needs he might not have even anticipated. Like the need for company.

  It might also help to know that Christians aren’t the only ones that have accounts like these from this time period. There are quite a few, in fact. Part of the reason why different religions tell their own versions of these stories is to demonstrate what is unique about their religion.

  What is unique about this God?

  In most of the Ancient Near Eastern (the part of the world where we first find God’s people) creation accounts- God is angry. He reluctantly interacts with his creation. He wants to punish his creation, send it away. He battles his creation. Or, in the midst of some giant power struggle, creation occurs.

  In the Biblical account- God takes painstaking care to bring something from nothing. We can almost imagine him enjoying the process- just as we might enjoy the process of making something out of clay, or out of wood. Or, hell, the process of fixing a car engine. And he each step of the process he stops and acknowledges his creation, “It is good.” It doesn’t say perfect. It doesn’t say mistake-free. It doesn’t say moral. He says it’s good. The very fact that it exists pleases Him.

  Now, many of you know what’s to come. The people are eventually thrown out of the garden. We assume, as this point, that things change. That things are no longer “good.” But scripture never says that. Things become more complicated, there are certain consequences, and so on. But there isn’t a point where God’s creation stops being good.

  I’d imagine he still looks down today and says, “This is good.” Perhaps it might, one day, be even better. But for now- I suspect it’s still good. Yes, there is war. Yes, there is conflict. Yes, there is food and water insecurity. And yet- there are people making food for those who need it. There are peacemakers attempting to end conflicts. There are acts of mercy. There are acts of kindness. There are attempts to write wrongs. There are efforts made to change our lives. And this is good.

  It’s also unique. The God of the Bible is not a good who creates out of conflict. He creates out of a desire to create. And he loves what he makes. For no reason at all. And this is the best news that there is. If he loved us because we were good- well, there will likely come a day when we do something bad. If he loves us because we’re smart, there will come a time when we do something stupid. If he loves us because we’re obedient, there will come a day when we disobey. If he loves us because we’re selfless, there will come a day when we do something selfish. What would happen on that day?

  Instead- the God of the Bible loves us because he loves us. And that’s how we know it’s not going anywhere.

Christmas is the Beginning of the End of Fighting

Christmas movies tend to be about family dysfunction. Have you ever noticed this?

• In Die Hard, the most Christmas-y movie, John McClane is trying to resolve relationship issues with his wife (while also stopping a terrorist attack).

• In Home Alone, Kevin has fractured relationships with his siblings, his cousins, and his parents. And the parents seem to have plenty of issues with the in-laws as well. This is why he wishes for his whole family to disappear.

• In a Christmas story, there’s too much dysfunction to mention.

• In Christmas vacation, Clark Griswald’s holiday spirit combined with his incompetence drive everyone crazy. And, he ends up having to deal with an unexpected visit from his brother who is struggling to care for himself and his family. Plus the brother doesn’t really know how to fit in or have a mutual relationship with another person.

• In Jingle All the Way, Arnold Schwarnegger’s character is a "workaholic" father who keeps breaking his promises to his son. (Same thing is true in The Santa Clause).

• The list goes on. (Four Christmases is another notable on this front...I'll let you watch it for yourself...with no spoilers).

It comes as no surprise to most of us, I’m guessing, that family drama might be the centerpiece of a holiday movie when, year after year, we spend time with our families at the holidays and it feels like we spend all our energy just trying to fend off attacks or uncomfortable conversations and all the rest of it. Now, it’s funny to think about these movies and the various scenes that stick in our minds and they make us laugh and so on and so forth…but what does all this have to do with a Christmas message?

Well. Let’s just Zoom out for a second. What is it that God is trying to do in the world? What are his plans? What are his purposes? What is his will?

These questions sometimes plague us- but they don’t need to. God’s plan is simple: He’s going to put an end to conflict. He’s creating a new reality where there is no need for conflict because this new reality perfectly embodies God’s highest values: forgiveness, mercy, grace, peace, and love. This is the kingdom that is promised to us. This is what is coming.

And some places in the New Testament describe the kingdom as being already here. This is because, ideally, we get to experience the benefits of this new reality right here, right now, today, when we live as part of God’s people. We experience mercy, grace, forgiveness, love, and so on and so forth. In this sense, we don’t have to wait. It’s already here.

Jesus’ birth, God’s entry into the world, is what brought this kingdom. The kingdom that will end all conflict. Conflict great and small, from the various wars that are taking place across the globe, to the conflict we spend so much energy trying to avoid at the holidays. Conflict comes in many shapes and sizes, and Jesus’ birth, life, death and resurrection are all reminders that we don’t need it because there’s another way to be.

Jesus’ birth, then, is not just a cute story of some poor family that couldn’t make it to the hospital in time. It’s an invitation and a challenge. The invitation is this: If you want to be, you can join the family that puts mercy and forgiveness first. The people of God. The challenge is similar, except that it asks something of us, Can you be a peacemaker? Can you extend forgiveness where isn’t earned? Can you offer grace where someone might deserve punishment? These are all very nice gifts to receive. They aren’t a hell of a lot of fun to give.

Ultimately, it’s completely up to you what you do with this. As for me- I’m asking myself a question: Who do I want to be, what traits do I want to practice, at Christmas this year?

I hope you find a similar thought, or idea, or question, that offers you some guidance, in a season that can, at times, be a challenge.

Hang in there this holiday season, and I hope to see you soon,

Scott

PS- If you’re missing some NSC music on Christmas Eve (or Christmas Day)- check out the 3 videos below. Hopefully this will scratch an itch. And put you in a worship-ful frame of mind.

A Message from Teresa

Most know this, but in case you don't - I am ending my 23 year commitment to pastor at NorthStar Community at the close of this year - 2022. This is my last blog post while I have that title. I will continue to substitute teach/preach and volunteer at NSC, but it will be different and there's no getting around that.

It has been a wild ride. I think it has taught me a little something about spiritual growth, which is also the series that Scott and I have been working on in recent weeks. I want to share with you a bit about what I've learned over these decades of working with families suffering from substance use disorder and a variety of maladies that often makes it impossible for them to sit still in a traditional church environment without feeling like they have red ants crawling over their bodies.

First, the old adage is true: you cannot tell a book by its cover. I have not gotten any better at predicting who will recover from their suffering (in all the forms suffering takes) and those who will get stuck in complicated grief, trauma and self-destructive spirals. Who is to say? I certainly cannot. I also do not know a secret sauce, a formula, a particular prayer, an attitude, or even a particular way to be faithful that can determine these sorts of outcomes. Some of the most sincere, committed, faithful, engaged enthusiasts who were passionate about recovering their lives did not survive re-entry. Brilliant, beloved, sensitive, caring people lose their battle with addiction or mental health battles every minute of every day - even those lucky few who have the resources to get the help they need. There is no explanation for this, and it is hard, very hard, as a pastor to know this. But the opposite is also true, and it is to this perspective that I cling: we also never, ever, ever give up hope. Since we cannot know we must assume that whoever is right in front of us might be an entirely different human 30, 60, 90 days, a year, a decade from now. To the best of our ability, we lean in and give everyone another chance by treating them with dignity, respect and unconditional positive regard. This may require a good therapist to help us sort out HOW to do that, but I know a great one, let me know if you want to talk to him!

Which brings me to adage two: If you want to run your faith race to completion and have a prayer of finishing well, it is best not to have expectations of any kind - even for yourself. I know this sounds like blasphemy, but in my experience, it has been a life saver for me. In a zoom call this morning a young man (so he can and should be forgiven his temerity) told me that once he achieved a certain level of success, he would be able to control all the outcomes that might hinder his ascent to happiness. I just listened. This one he is going to figure out without me offering a warning he cannot hear at this stage in his life. Life is a real mess. People are complicated. Expectations make everything harder; my AA friends have it right - they lead to resentment - and who has time for that? I am not talking about being hopeless or never daring to dream; quite the opposite. What I am saying with more conviction than I normally muster up, is this: we just don't know what we're doing most of the time. Our prognosticating and expectations are usually misguided at best and self-serving on the days we live on the dark side of the moon. Again, good news. Maybe our dreams are too small. Maybe our coping strategies are not meant to survive because they need to be replaced with legitimate thriving. Forget expectations but do not forget to show up for the work of becoming a better human being. Which brings me to adage three.

The best preacher I ever knew was James Pardue. He once told me the most important thing I ever learned as a pastor. Every pastor is only given one message and she has to figure out how to re-state it every single Sunday without anyone noticing. That's a tall order and I doubt that I accomplished it. But I did know that I only had one message, and here it is: God is not out to get us; he works humbly and often secretly to do good for us. His ways are strange and wrapped within the context of a much larger story: his story. But nevertheless this: He created each and every one of us for the capacity to be virtuous. How might that look? I know not. But I think we must consider walking, as Eugene Peterson said, the long road of obedience to such a call. That's it. That's my one message. Walk the long road of obedience in love.

And, because I'm a pastor and can never just say a thing, here's how Peterson said it better: “And yet I decide, every day, to set aside what I can do best and attempt what I do very clumsily--open myself to the frustrations and failures of loving, daring to believe that failing in love is better than succeeding in pride.”

― Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society

I have loved being a pastor; I will continue to love being a member of Northstar Community, a place where we do things clumsily if we do them at all. My love to each and every one of you. Teresa

The Most Humble People are the Best People

I'm a bit apprehensive about approaching "spiritual growth" as a topic. There are a good many reasons for this. For starters- there's the issue of definition. What is spirituality? I think people probably have a tendency to say way too much or way too little on this front. Sometimes people say way too much while communicating very little. For some, it's the sense of connection with life that is larger that one's self (for instance, people talk about feeling united with creation, or with the universe). For some, it's about detachment- believing that attachments are just suffering waiting to happen. For some, it's about internal peace. From a Christian perspective- we could incorporate these ideas, but we would first need to talk about spirituality as a matter of belonging to the spirit of God- and the consequences of that (the consequences being: we become God's partners in transforming creation into a place that reflects God's values).

Spirituality has also become a cultural buzzword. There are a great many gurus writing about spiritual growth these days. While I'm sure there's plenty of good writing out there- I confess I'm always a bit skeptical of gurus because, you know, how spiritual can a person truly get?

I know people who talk a lot about how spiritual they are, or their many and varied spiritual interests, and so on. Does having an interest in spirituality make a person spiritual? Maybe, sure. Does it guarantee it? Does it make someone a guru? I dunno. In some circles, presenting one's self as "spiritual" seems to imply "enlightenment". And if you're enlightened, you get to be superior to others. Because being enlightened is better than being, uh, not enlightened. But you can never admit to feeling superior to others if you're enlightened because enlightened folks know that all people are equal. So you can't say it. You just have to act like you figured something out that nobody else is special enough to see (because they aren't actually equal to you). And this seems to me to be a big problem with the way people approach spirituality in Western culture. It's like a low-key way to feel superior to others while also feeling like you're better than others because of your spiritual superiority.

This leads to the issue of my own hypocrisy if I write about spiritual growth with the above things in mind. If I tell you how to be more spiritual, am I not saying that I know the path and you should listen to me? Am I not saying I discovered the secret and if you get to be a little bit more like me you might find the secret too? (Or, like, maybe not, because you might not have my special-ness). The truth is- I don't know the path. I can point to some things that work for some people. I can't necessarily point you to the thing that will work for you.

And this takes me to a personal value of mine when it comes to spiritual growth: humility.

Because of the grace that God gave me, I can say to each one of you: don’t think of yourself more highly than you ought to think. Instead, be reasonable since God has measured out a portion of faith to each one of you.

~ Romans 12:3, CEB

Humility is also a complicated topic. Every time I think of the word humility I think of LeBron James who always says he's so "humbled" when he accomplishes great things. Really? That's humbling for you, LeBron? Before I dunk on LeBron, let me just say- I imagine he means something more like "grateful"...and that's something perhaps we could all understand. My point is this: people use the word humility in odd ways, and I think I've noticed a pattern.

People use the word "humility" either when they accomplish "greatness" (like LeBron tends to do) or the exact opposite. I would imagine you've heard the word humility described this way: I am nothing, God is everything. Everything good you might see in me was done by God. All the bad stuff is me. In other words: humility is either being great or being nothing at all. When we compare these two different versions of humility we end up in a tailspin. Are we humbled by our own greatness? Or is there no greatness in us at all? How are we to resolve this?

Romans 12:3 helps. It gives us the worst advice imaginable: Be reasonable. Who among us is reasonable?! Okay it says a little bit more, fortunately. Essentially it tells us not to think of ourselves as better than others. More specifically, don't have an exaggerated image of yourself (and be reasonable).

I don't know how to tell anyone to do that so I'm not going to try. What I am going to do is point out this: Paul is essentially suggesting that you figure out how to view yourself accurately. Accurately would seem to imply, not too much, and not too little.

I have to be honest- I quite like this framework because I think it works on a few levels. If LeBron sees himself as great, that does not disqualify him from being humble. Why? Because he is great. What it does not leave room for is this thought: I am nothing. There is no good in me. The only good that stems from me is God working through me.

These thoughts are not accurate, therefore they are not humble. It might be more true for you to say to yourself, I need to belong to God's spirit so that I can become the version of myself God has in mind, and I have accomplished some good things in this world. Both can be true, if we want to view ourselves accurately. In order to be accurate, we have to reject the temptation to see ourselves as enlightened, or as having "figured it out" or as having something "the other kind" doesn't have. But we also reject the idea that we have nothing to offer, that we're not needed, that we're not useful, and so on.

You are needed. You are useful. Most of all, you are wanted.

What would have to change for you in order to believe that, eh? I'm guessing some of you don't. But instead of rejecting it, let's get more accurate.

How are you going to do that?

Restraint is a sign of spiritual growth

One of the most valuable spiritual disciplines I practice (some days) is restraint. Restraint allows me to choose to practice meditation while sitting surrounded by laundry that needs folding and calls that need returning. Restraint enables me to not blurt out wrong information even though I am convinced I know the truth. Restraint helps me find curiosity instead of judgment. Restraint allows me to pause to prepare and ask myself: do you really want that box of cookies, or do you need a hug? Restraint gives me permission to go slow in spite of the fact that the world is telling me to speed up. Restraint builds my spiritual muscles: for curiosity, humility, meditation, and even cardio health. Sometimes the only way to restrain myself is to get up from my desk and take a walk. Restraint allows me to find kind words to replace the quick, sarcastic retort that comes so easily to mind when feeling hurt or angry. I am so grateful for the capacity to choose restraint - when I remember to do so.

As I write this, I am looking out my window as a team cuts down my neighbor's tree. Their work is done, but they are not leaving. One of the guys is sitting on the flatbed of the truck meditating - legs crossed, hands cupped and open - ready to receive. I wonder why he feels the need to meditate at this particular moment. Did he and his wife have a huge fight this morning? Is he distracted, worried and anxious about his kids' school safety? Is he sitting in gratitude that the tree fell just right and caused no harm to life or property? Is he in search of peace or lovingkindness? I do not know. The rest of his team are taking a smoke break and scrolling through their phones. But here he sits. I feel his solitude. I can sense his focus. After ten minutes or so, I watch him stretch his legs, shake his arms and rise up. He nods at his friends and points toward their vehicles - it is time to go on to the next job. I do not know if meditation is a form of restraint for him; maybe for him, showing up for his shift at work required restraint. But I think we all know, don't we? We know what restraint would require for us. I wonder what restraint would require of you.

Restraint may take many forms but it does require one hard thing: NOT doing, NOT indulging the feelings, NOT thinking the thoughts that are so habitual. I meditated yesterday when I would have preferred to move and do. I took a walk last week when what I really wanted to do was type out a snappy and rude email reply. I loaded up my plate for lunch on Monday with veggies and protein instead of eating teddy grahams in a bowl of milk. Some days I fold my laundry, type out a sappy email reply and have cereal for lunch. These are not terrible things to avoid (except the email - avoid that), but they are opportunities for me to be more mindful. Restraint is a beautiful discipline, not a punishment. We won't always choose to practice it - but when we do, it's a gift.