I really like the Heidelberg Catechism — a lot. In my opinion, it’s one of the most complete pastoral summaries of Reformed Christian doctrine in existence. So, to maintain and/or improve my writing and theological chops, I’ve decided to blog through it. All 129 questions.
These “Heidelberg Musings” will be little meditations/devotions through each question . . . just as I’m personally processing through them. While I’m not promising anything too profound, I hope and trust that these will be helpful to some (myself included). When the Catechism was first produced in the 1600s, it was divided into 52 sections, one for each Lord’s Day of the year. That’s how these will be divided as well, with each “Lord’s Day” being at least one post (maybe more, depending on how many questions are specified for a particular day).
On with the first Lord’s Day (in the next post). Please, let me know what you think . . . good and bad.
It feels kind of strange to be writing a “review” for a Bible, especially as someone who affirms Scripture as authoritative, God-breathed, inerrant, etc. The word “review” gives off a connotation of standing over God’s Word with a critical eye or something, like “hmmm . . . The ‘Bible’, eh? Never heard of it. How’re the sales at Amazon and B&N?” Rest assured, though . . . this is a review of features, not content.
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”
I wonder how many of my fellow African-Americans voted for Senator Obama primarily for his color (and rhetorical skill) rather his character (and policies). Of course, no one’s actually allowed to say this. If you’re white and you say this, you’re labeled a racist. If you’re black, you’re a self-hating Uncle Tom.
. . . and get the one pictured/linked here. Seriously fantastic stuff.
Unless, of course, you like your kids learning their Bible stories as simplistic, poorly-illustrated morality plays with absolutely no connection to the person and work of Jesus, that is. Then, by all means, keep the one you have.
Zoë’s loving hers, and so are Mommy and Daddy.
(* Feeding to the dog or shredding for use as rodent bedding are acceptable substitutes for burning.)
(This particular entry has been started, stopped, deleted, restarted, and re-written a few times already. Not that the version that gets posted will end up being the best, necessarily.)
I’ve been thinking recently of how broken we can (or should) show ourselves to be before eachother — how much of a mess we can admit to being.
See, I had this tendency a few years back to be brutally honest about myself with others, whenever a wave of introspection hit. Sins and struggles were confessed, and doubts about life and God were publicly hung like laundry set out to dry. I was broken and messy and wasn’t afraid of telling everyone and their mothers. The catharsis that naturally comes with dumping your baggage at the feet of others was gratifying, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t relish the “Rae, your honesty is so refreshing” accolades I occasionally received (particularly when they were from cute girls). There was even this weird, ironic arrogance that cropped up in me . . . as if I was somehow more “together” than others just because I gave voice to my issues. The 29-year-old me of right now would kind of like to punch the 20-year-old me of back then, actually.
[Don't be fooled — this kind of honesty only came in online forums (kind of like . . . what I'm doing right now). Actually seeing another's reaction to the crap you've just laid before them was a step I just wasn't too interesting in taking. Didn't seem safe enough.]
That tendency seems to have disappeared over the past few years, probably for a combination of good reasons (for instance, protecting the privacy of my family and myself) and bad reasons (for instance, thinking that real men don’t give voice to such things). I’d be perfectly satisfied with closing everyone off and putting up the “Perfect PCA Elder and his Perfect PCA Family” front if that pesky Apostle James hadn’t written that whole bit about Christians needing to confess their sins and struggles to one another . . . and since that happened to make into something we call “God’s Word”, it’s probably pretty important that I heed that advice.
So, how do we set our mess out before everyone without falling into despair? On the other side of that coin, how do we do it without becoming satisfied and comfortable with being “messy”? How do we create safety for others to be broken with us, and at the same time, have the courage to lovingly encourage them to get out of the junk that they’ve become so comfortable sitting in?
This video has been making the rounds in the blogosphere . . .
It’s a portion of a sermon that John Piper delivered at University Christian Fellowship in Birmingham . . . a college ministry that I used to be a part of. A few folks have been wondering here and there how to get the whole sermon, and since it’s no longer available at UCF’s website, I’ve uploaded it to this server.
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