Part two in a discussion of how to find strength and courage in the midst of impossible situations–based on the lessons Joshua learned in the book of Scripture which bears his name.
Continue Reading...The Bible shows us some keys that we can use in order to find strength and courage in impossible situations. This post focuses on the need to remember God’s promises.
Continue Reading...
How’s that for a motto?
Not far from where I live is what used to be the Carlisle Indian Boarding School, which used that same motto—the ‘Indian School’ now houses the US Army War College (I think their motto is something like, “Kill the Enlisted Man, Save the Colonel”). The above ‘mission statement’ gives a pretty clear image of the view most people had toward native Americans: if we could just ‘un-Indianize’ them, there would be hope for them to enjoy life as “civilized” (read “educated, white) persons. Their differences invited ridicule and caricature—think of how natives have often been portrayed, especially in the books and movies of not-so-long-ago—all because of ignorance on the part of those who felt they knew best.
In 1744, a group of well-meaning people from Virginia and Maryland offered to instill “proper culture and education” into the lives of natives by covering the costs for a group of young men from various nations to attend the College of William and Mary. What follows is the response of Conassatego of the Iroquois League, replying on behalf of the Six Nations (as found on p. 239 of American Indian Tribal Governments, Sharon O’Brien, 1989):
We know that you highly esteem the kind of Learning taught in these Colleges, and the maintenance of our young Men, while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, therefore, that you mean to do us Good by your Proposal; and we thank you heartily.
But you who are so wise must know that different Nations have different Conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our Ideas of this kind of Education happen not to be the same yours. We have some experience of it. Several of our Young People were formerly brought up at the colleges of the Northern Provinces; they were instructed in all your sciences; but, when they came back to us, they were bad Runners, ignorant of every means of living in the Woods, knew neither how to build a cabin, take a Deer, or kill an Enemy, spoke our language imperfectly, were therefore neither fit for Hunters, Warriors, nor Counselors; they were totally good for nothing.
We are, however, not the less obliged by your kind Offer, tho’ we decline accepting it; and to show our grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a Dozen of their Sons, we will take care of their Education, instruct them of all we know, and make Men of them.
Ouch.
Put that in your paradigm pipe and shift it.
How’s that for a motto?
Not far from where I live is what used to be the Carlisle Indian Boarding School, which used that same motto—the ‘Indian School’ now houses the US Army War College (I think their motto is something like, “Kill the Enlisted Man, Save the Colonel”). The above ‘mission statement’ gives a pretty clear image of the view most people had toward native Americans: if we could just ‘un-Indianize’ them, there would be hope for them to enjoy life as “civilized” (read “educated, white) persons. Their differences invited ridicule and caricature—think of how natives have often been portrayed, especially in the books and movies of not-so-long-ago—all because of ignorance on the part of those who felt they knew best.
In 1744, a group of well-meaning people from Virginia and Maryland offered to instill “proper culture and education” into the lives of natives by covering the costs for a group of young men from various nations to attend the College of William and Mary. What follows is the response of Conassatego of the Iroquois League, replying on behalf of the Six Nations (as found on p. 239 of American Indian Tribal Governments, Sharon O’Brien, 1989):
We know that you highly esteem the kind of Learning taught in these Colleges, and the maintenance of our young Men, while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, therefore, that you mean to do us Good by your Proposal; and we thank you heartily.
But you who are so wise must know that different Nations have different Conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our Ideas of this kind of Education happen not to be the same yours. We have some experience of it. Several of our Young People were formerly brought up at the colleges of the Northern Provinces; they were instructed in all your sciences; but, when they came back to us, they were bad Runners, ignorant of every means of living in the Woods, knew neither how to build a cabin, take a Deer, or kill an Enemy, spoke our language imperfectly, were therefore neither fit for Hunters, Warriors, nor Counselors; they were totally good for nothing.
We are, however, not the less obliged by your kind Offer, tho’ we decline accepting it; and to show our grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a Dozen of their Sons, we will take care of their Education, instruct them of all we know, and make Men of them.
Ouch.
Put that in your paradigm pipe and shift it.
Worship.
Family.
Vocation.
In the ancient world, these three things were the pillars on which the plane of ‘life’ rested. They gave definition, boundary, and, perhaps most importantly, identity. The same is true today: Who/how we worship, the family of which we are part, and the job or career we’ve chosen are what we often use to define us (we’ll have to discuss how far we have(n’t) come since ancient days some other time). But with these three life-pillars, I think we can more easily relate to one of my all-time favorite stories in Scripture. It’s found in John 9–you can click this link or just follow along from here:
Jesus is walking with his disciples when they come across a man, begging, who has been blind since birth. One of his disciples ask why this man was born blind and Jesus’ answer was a paradigm shifting, “So God’s work can be displayed.” And then Jesus heals the man.
Pause there for a second.
In almost every other instance of physical healing shared in the Scriptures, healing from Jesus is solicited. Someone touches him, someone calls for him, crowds gather around him…and they are seeking his healing touch. But not this time: the man who had been born blind has an unsolicited encounter with Christ. Unsolicited. Un-asked for. He’s begging and Jesus spits in the ground, rubs spit-mud in his face and orders him to wash the stuff off. The man does as he’s told, and he can see!
Okay, kind of weird, I’ll admit, but the story continues… the story continues, but not in the way we think it should. When everyone should be celebrating the miracle this man has experienced, things take a dark turn. In one moment, the main gains his sight but seems to lose everything else:
- HIS VOCATION—what do you suppose a blind beggar does? He BEGS. He sits at a temple gate or some other thoroughfare and begs for money. He can’t really do anything else. He’s never learned a trade. He begs.Then Jesus heals him and he can no longer beg. His source of income has just disappeared, and it’s not like he can go to careerbuilder.com to look for some other work he’s qualified to do. That shouldn’t be too bad, though, because he’s still got his family, right?
- HIS FAMILY—when questioned by the religious authorities about their son’s encounter with Jesus, the man’s parents are of little help. In fact, they put a great deal of distance between their son and themselves by relying on the fact that the man was legally able to speak for himself, meaning the parents didn’t have to come to his defense or his aid. When he could have used their support and voice the most, this man finds that his parents are taking a very laisses faire approach to his future. At the very least, his family ties are strained. What happens next will probably break them.
- HIS WORSHIP PARADIGM—The man again is answering questions about his healing and pushes the wrong buttons with the authorities. In verse 10 we see “…they threw him out.” This didn’t mean the man was just kicked out of the building, he was cast out of the synagogue. He found himself “excommunicated” from his religious family. By ‘throwing him out,’ the leaders were assuring he would be unable to join a trade, interact with his family, or enjoy corporate worship.
All because he had an unsolicited encounter with Jesus.
Everything about this man’s life has just been turned upside down. And he never even asked for the thing which changed his life.
—
But the end of the story is what fascinates me most:
Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
“Who is he, sir?” The man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.”
Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.”
Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him.
His encounter with Jesus, in a way, cost this man everything. And yet he still chose to worship Christ because, the story indicates, Jesus offered something greater than what the man lost. Think about that: the man has ‘lost’ everything that defined his life… but there was something bigger, greater, more meaningful in Jesus than everything that once defined him.
Jesus offers life, purpose, and hope… but he also shares in his teaching that following him costs everything. Those of us who follow Christ may be wise to ask what following him has cost us lately, because if no cost is involved we probably need to question whether we’re following at all.
What if you had an unintended, unsolicited encounter with God… and in that moment, he changed everything that defined you: who or how you worship, your family, and your job/career/vocation? Would you proclaim, “Lord, I believe”? or ask to be left alone?
I hope I would proclaim with the man in the story: One thing I do know. I was blind, but now I can see! and then leave everything to follow him.
