A Christian Worldview from Silicon Valley

While vacationing in Washington DC, I had the pleasure of reading The God Cookie, by Geoffrey Wood. Imagine God speaking to you through a fortune cookie…

But that is exactly the kind of message from God some people desire. Recently, even non-Christian friends of mine seemed a bit wistful for something like God’s proverbial lightning bolt to offer clarity regarding job situations, relationships, etc. (Limited guidance gratefully accepted.)

I find it curious that some people covet God’s omniscience, but totally disregard the message God actually has for us (e.g., John 3:16). Aren’t eternal consequences something to be reckoned with?

Just who do we think God is, anyway?

(Disclaimer: this post, like all of our posts, is the work and opinion of the author, not the church.)

Since this blog is about Worldview, I’m compelled to say that in my view, the world has become far less attractive in the past few years.

Not on God’s part, of course, because he is the ultimate artist, but mankind has uglied the place up, and one of the chief contributors to this blight on the beauty surrounding us is Toyota, whose Prius spoils the landscape seemingly everywhere.

My wife, whose aesthetic senses are very well developed through decades of international travel to evaluate temporary living environments (also known as hotels), can barely stand to look at the things. But because she lives in an area where people have the weird idea that driving a Prius is a good thing, she is forced to look at them over and over.

Last Friday we were driving home from dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant when she noted three of the offenders in a short space. “Yes,” I said, “there are a lot of them around.” We were less than two blocks from our house at the time, and she said, “I’ll bet we’ll see 10 of them before we get home.”

“Impossible!” I said. And we immediately started counting. Read the rest of this entry »

Summer is here, and the kids are out of school. Yay. Oh, the bliss.

Yesterday, I planned to stay home and get things done around the house. Let the kids OD on Star Trek reruns for a change. But toward the end of the day, my 12-year-old son got an attack of the whines. “Let’s get out of the house. I need to get out of the house and go DO something!” Oh really?

Today, I planned a day of errands, mostly to get the same son prepared for his backpacking trip next week. We were away from home for hours as we attempted to get Boy Scout medical forms signed by doctors; purchase hiking pants, neoprene socks, freeze-dried dinners, walking sticks, and duct tape from a variety of shops; sign up for swim lessons at the desired pool; have a Chipotle’s lunch to revive our flagging energy; squeeze in a haircut for my daughter; and reward everyone with a stop at the library and the pizza shop.

Guess who had this to say at several points along the way: “Let’s please go home. I just wanna go hooooome.”

Even when we get what we wish for, it’s rarely what we truly want. There’s always something more, better, different, and just slightly out of reach that would make us perfectly happy — right?

Last week, I had an x-ray done. It was routine, nothing to worry about. I was ready, I was comfortable. The lab technician was just about to start the x-ray, when she said, “Now don’t breathe!” Suddenly, I felt a great urge to breathe deeply, as though I’d run out of oxygen. What changed? I hadn’t needed extra oxygen 2 seconds before.

Today, I checked into the Cardiology department for an EKG. Again, just a routine procedure, not for any particular concerns. Easy peasy. I’m laying there, with these glued tabs all over me, and wires connnected to the stickers. I was totally comfortable. Truly. Until she said, “Now don’t move!” Huh? Why can’t I move? I need to move. I really, really need to move, and now. Okay, at least I need to breathe, and deeply.

The good news is that I did control myself in these two instances, not breathing and not moving, at least enough that they only had to repeat one x-ray of the four they first took. But what made me feel so compelled to breathe and move when just before I wasn’t even thinking of those things?

And what does that say about my ability to live under national law, God’s law, any law?

Most people have heard of those WWJD bracelets, reminding Christians to follow Jesus’ example in their daily lives.

But what are Christians known for doing?

I just read “The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society,” which I enjoyed very much, but I was surprised at the Amazon reviewers who felt it was anti-religious, mainly because one Christian woman was portrayed as self-righteous and judgmental.  Unfortunately, despite some Amazon reviewers’ claims that they have never met anyone like that in their church community, I think the stereotype of Christians is often negative.

Our Wed PM kids class just finished discussing “Do Hard Things : a teenage rebellion against low expectations” by Alex and Brett Harris.  One of the sections was titled “Be known for what you do (more than for what you don’t).”

Aren’t Christians often known more for what they don’t do (e.g., dancing, drinking, sex before marriage, etc.), and for frowning on those who do those things?

But as Alex and Brett wrote, “We’re not just supposed to avoid sinning; we’re supposed to pursue righteousness in a way that others will want to imitate.”

“Do Hard Things” is full of examples of young people thinking outside the box of their insulated lives about how to be salt and light to a broken world (e.g., providing for the homeless, digging wells in Africa, fighting modern-day slavery).  They are living out their faith in world-changing ways.

Imagine a world where Christians are known for what they DO, instead of what they don’t do.

What is Jesus calling you to DO for Him?

Nowadays, simplicity is a hot topic of exploration. In the USA, our conspicuous consumption has gotten the better of us, and people are interested in downsizing. My own wake-up call came when I told my children’s playmates they weren’t allowed in the garage: “It’s not safe out there!” Too much stuff stacked floor to ceiling and scattered densely along the narrow aisle-ways made for dangerous navigation.

Christians who wish to simplify often turn to Richard Foster’s excellent book, Freedom of Simplicity. One of his most provocative recommendations is this: If you need something, ask God to supply this “daily bread” without your having to buy it. If it comes during a week’s time, thank him. If not, reevaluate, and if you still need it, buy it. This ends impulse buying and reminds us that God is our provider.

When my daughter needed some fabric to complete a requirement for her Girl Scout Silver Award, I took the opportunity to clean out some of my excessive collections of craft supplies that were cluttering our garage. I consolidated several boxes, and ended up with three piles: trash, materials for my daughter, and cross-stitching supplies. Cross-stitching is a structured kind of embroidery I used to enjoy, but no longer find compelling. However, I knew that my husband’s coworker loves the craft, so I asked Keith to deliver the boxful of charts and other items to her. Terry’s reaction astonished us.

In the weeks before I got the bug to clean my garage, Terry had felt God was trying to teach her two things: “to come to Him first for every thing, not just the big things but every single thing as a matter of habit, every time” as well as “to see material possessions the way He does.” One evening while surfing the Internet, Terry  found a cross-stitch chart she really, really liked. But this time she just stopped and prayed, “Lord, I have enough. You have given me everything I need.  I do not need or want any thing more. You are all I need and all I want.  If You want me to have that chart, then I will eventually have it, but I am not going to buy it.”  She was serious about that decision, mentally placing the chart at His feet and going on about her business.

It was several weeks later when Terry received my box and took it home to look through. She says, “My husband and my son must have thought I had completely lost it over in my chair that night, when I turned a chart over and recognized it was the one. I could not stop the tears of joy. How real He is, and how loved can one person be? No one on the planet knew I wanted that chart.”

Along with several thousand other Christians, I spent much of last week in one of America’s most beautiful places, Malibu, California.

I was there for the annual Pepperdine Bible Lectures, a week-long series of classes, talks, singing, meetings and fellowship that is both amazing in its scope and glorious in its setting. There is content, too, but I’ll write about that in another post.

From the cafeteria patio at Pepperdine, I had a more than 200-degree panoramic view of the deep blue Pacific ocean, I was comfortable in shorts every day and every evening, and the skies were constantly clear.

But did that serve to clear my mind or cloud it? Enjoying a warm breakfast while overlooking the ocean is relaxing and inspiring, but does it make for better thinking, or does it create a warped perspective? How much — and how — does where we are impact our worldview?

A friend of mine called the other day to tell me that he had started an organization called IOP — International Organization for Peace — that he had written a white paper outlining his approach to bringing peace to Israel and Palestine, and that he would like for me to read it and respond and possibly even get involved in some way.

Then Omer, who is a devout Muslim, paused and asked, quite sincerely but with some trepidation, “Pastor Lewis, are you in favor of peace between Israel and Palestine?”

My immediate reaction, partly because of the timing of the question and partly because of the depth of the question, was to laugh.

I followed that up quickly with the statement that I was certainly in favor of peace there, but I wasn’t sure it could ever happen.

Omer was relieved. Perhaps he has met a number of Christians and Jews who think war is more desirable than peace, or that war is the way to peace. Obviously there are enough “hawks” on both sides of that conflict to have kept it going for much longer than I’ve been alive.

Now excited that he had found another Christian who might stand beside him, he told me more about his plans and goals. As I write this, he is in Israel trying to gain even more support. I hope he succeeds, and if God uses him in some way, he just might succeed.

I say that because of a scripture I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, 1 Samuel 14.6. In the NASB, it reads like this: Then Jonathan said to the young man who was carrying his armor, “Come and let us cross over to the garrison of these uncircumcised; perhaps the LORD will work for us, for the LORD is not restrained to save by many or by few.”

You should read that in context, of course, but you will find the principle is the same. Overwhelming odds can sometimes be more apparent than real. If God is on your side, other numbers don’t matter.

I’m praying for Omer and his mission. Perhaps he and the few who are with him will be able to accomplish what presidents and princes, armies and artillery, bombs and bombastic language, have not.

Assuming, naturally, that God is for peace between Israel and Palestine.

This morning Lewis’  sermon was titled “Worship or Warship?”

Sorry, but that’s all it took to get my mind a wandering.

I tried to pay attention. Really, I did. But, what I thought about was just how much a warship is similar to worship.

I have been in the church for many years. I have also spent time on several warships, destroyers, frigates, aircraft carriers, to name a few. I also served on the staff of a Destroyer Squadron as intelligence officer. I could tell you some secrets, but then I’d have to kill you.

I don’t want to stretch this analogy until it breaks, but, let me share some of the many similarities I find between a warship and worship. Read the rest of this entry »

In 1 Corinthians 14 Paul is finishing a section on spiritual gifts and their use in the church when he writes: “When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has an interpretation. Let all things be done for edification.”

There are many lessons to be learned in that simple sentence, but one idea I infer from it was that the early church — or at least the church in Corinth, which Paul had a lot to do with — shared with and learned from each other when they assembled. Most of today’s churches, including ours, are much more practitioners of assembling and being led by full time pastors/teachers, people I sometimes jokingly call “professional Christians.”

Being one of those people, I’m clearly not opposed to that. Those who have particular gifts, especially gifts of teaching, ought to use them for the building up of the body of Christ (see Ephesians 4.11ff). But we should remember that the gifts we normally see used on Sunday are not the only gifts, and that even those who do have those gifts in abundance do not have them exclusively.

And so it was, with all that in mind, that we had a “One Another” service at PACC yesterday. We sang to God and to one another, we shared our struggles and joys with one another, we prayed for one another, we served communion to one another and passed the offering basket to one another, and we taught one another. Everyone who was there participated actively in at least one way, and most participated actively in multiple ways.

Perhaps when we post this e-mail on our PACC blog, people will comment on how they felt about that particular service, but I get to tell you now. I loved it.

It was an encouragement to me to hear the lessons that people shared, whether from a personal experience, from scripture, or from a God-honoring insight. It was heart-warming for me to observe a number of small groups of Christians sharing with each other and praying for each other. It was humbling to watch parents serve communion to their children, husbands serve their wives, wives serve their husbands, and friends serve their friends. Every part of the service touched me in a positive way.

So thank you, church, those of you who were able to be there, for being the church, for building up the body of Christ and for loving one another. The tender moments, the funny moments, the thoughtful moments, the moments of celebration, all worked together for the glory of God. And he must have been pleased.