As I was driving back from Windy Gap today (yay Men's Retreat!) I listened to one of John Piper's sermons on Romans. Among a lot of other things that he talked about, one of his main points was that we are not debtors to God because of His grace. We are in debt to God for attempting to steal for ourselves the glory that belongs to Him. But we offend God and nullify grace if we attempt to repay God for it. It is a gift: freely given, freely received. This is another hymn I remember from way back when.
Marvelous grace of our loving Lord,
Grace that exceeds our sin and our guilt!
Yonder on Calvary's mount outpoured,
There where the blood of the Lamb was spilled.
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin!
Sin and despair, like the sea waves cold,
Threaten the soul with infinite loss;
Grace that is greater, yes, grace untold,
Points to the refuge, the mighty cross.
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin!
Dark is the stain that we cannot hide.
What can avail to wash it away?
Look! There is flowing a crimson tide,
Brighter than snow you may be today!
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin!
Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,
Freely bestowed on all who believe!
You that are longing to see His face,
Will you this moment His grace receive?
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin!
3.24.2008
Wonder
Yesterday (Easter) in church, one of the main points of the sermon I heard was that we need to wonder at the mystery of the resurrection. All of our scientific research and material pursuits have not led us to be able, at all, to explain the miracle that occurred on that first Easter: that Jesus Christ, a man who was dead, was risen from the grave. Not only that, He appeared to others, nearly 600, as proof of His resurrection. In fact, all of our scientific reasoning has only served to decrease our wonder and amazement at this most miraculous, most glorious of events. We reduce the resurrection to a myth, and in the process, take away all of the mythic splendor and otherworldliness that accompanies the historical event. The resurrection cannot be seen as a myth: it is no explanation of why things are the way they are, no abstract statement of an apparent truth. No, the resurrection must be seen as an unexpected, unimaginable, miracle. Any other conception of it steals the mystery, the amazement, the wonder.
One of my favorite authors, David James Duncan, has a few things to say about wonder in his most recent book, 'God Laughs and Plays.' It is not a Christian book, but it does make some very powerful, very convicting observations about the state of Christianity and the church in our world. (His fiction is fantastic. The River Why and The Brothers K are two of my favorite books.) Here is what he has to say:
"Wonder is my second favorite condition to be in, after love - and I sometimes wonder whether there's even a difference: maybe love is just wonder aimed at a beloved. Wonder is like grace, in that it's not a condition we grasp: wonder grasps us. (Contrast this with the statement from the Time article that says 'sin is what separates us from grace.') We do have the freedom to elude wonder's grasp. We have the freedom to do all sorts of stupid things. By deploying cynicism, rationalism, fear, arrogance, judgmentalism, we can evade wonder nonstop, all our lives. I'm not too fond of that gnarly old word, sin, but the deliberate evasion of wonder does bring it to mind. It may not be biblically sinful to evade wonder. But it is artistically and spiritually sinful.
Like grace, wonder defies rational analysis. Discursive thought can bring nothing to an object of wonder. Thought at best just circumambulates the object, the way a devout pilgrip circles Golgotha, the Bo Tree, Wounded Knee, the Kabbah. Wonder is not an obligatory element in the search for truth. We can seek truth without wonder's assistance - but seek is all we can do: there will be no finding. Until wonder descends, unlocks us, turns us slack-jawed as a plastic shepherd, truth is unable to enter. Wonder may be the aura of truth, the halo of it. Or something even closer. Wonder may be the caress of truth, touching our very skin (pg 8, 2006 edition)."
One of my favorite authors, David James Duncan, has a few things to say about wonder in his most recent book, 'God Laughs and Plays.' It is not a Christian book, but it does make some very powerful, very convicting observations about the state of Christianity and the church in our world. (His fiction is fantastic. The River Why and The Brothers K are two of my favorite books.) Here is what he has to say:
"Wonder is my second favorite condition to be in, after love - and I sometimes wonder whether there's even a difference: maybe love is just wonder aimed at a beloved. Wonder is like grace, in that it's not a condition we grasp: wonder grasps us. (Contrast this with the statement from the Time article that says 'sin is what separates us from grace.') We do have the freedom to elude wonder's grasp. We have the freedom to do all sorts of stupid things. By deploying cynicism, rationalism, fear, arrogance, judgmentalism, we can evade wonder nonstop, all our lives. I'm not too fond of that gnarly old word, sin, but the deliberate evasion of wonder does bring it to mind. It may not be biblically sinful to evade wonder. But it is artistically and spiritually sinful.
Like grace, wonder defies rational analysis. Discursive thought can bring nothing to an object of wonder. Thought at best just circumambulates the object, the way a devout pilgrip circles Golgotha, the Bo Tree, Wounded Knee, the Kabbah. Wonder is not an obligatory element in the search for truth. We can seek truth without wonder's assistance - but seek is all we can do: there will be no finding. Until wonder descends, unlocks us, turns us slack-jawed as a plastic shepherd, truth is unable to enter. Wonder may be the aura of truth, the halo of it. Or something even closer. Wonder may be the caress of truth, touching our very skin (pg 8, 2006 edition)."
3.23.2008
Sunday Hymn - Low in the Grave He Lay
Other than the fact that I can hear this song being sung at the Mennonite church I grew up in, all that needs to be said is:
He is risen!
He is risen, indeed!
Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior,
Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Vainly they watch His bed, Jesus my Savior;
Vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Death cannot keep its Prey, Jesus my Savior,
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
He is risen!
He is risen, indeed!
Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior,
Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Vainly they watch His bed, Jesus my Savior;
Vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Death cannot keep its Prey, Jesus my Savior,
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o'er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
3.20.2008
God Delusion, Part 2: Hot Potato
I'm not really sure how to do this. I have a lot to say about Dawkins's book, but there isn't any easy was to organize everything I have to say, at least in my mind. The chapters are too long to be addressed in a single post, and the subsections are too short and too numerous to merit a post each. I'm going to have to do some trimming. With that, and if you are reading the book, understand that just because something doesn't show up here, that doesn't mean I agree with it or have nothing to say about it. I just think that some things are more important to address than others. Here goes.
Chapter One is called 'A Deeply Religious Non-Believer.' It's basically the introduction for the book. Dawkins describes his own view point and addresses how he is going to treat and address religion. "I shall not go out of my way to offend, but nor shall I don kid gloves to handle religion any more gently than I would handle anything else" is his concluding statement. His observation is that religious sentiments, unlike political leanings or musical preference, aren't touched by anything short of a '39 1/2 foot pole.' And he's right: unless we're talking about Christianity, religious commentary and criticism is a thing unheard of and frowned upon.
One of my problems with Dawkins, not just in this chapter but in the rest of the book (as far as I've read), is that he will often make some social observation but spend no time or ink trying to figure out why it is true. Example: avoidance of religion. Let me offer my own solution to this observation. Religion deals with the infinite and the sublime. The afterlife, true reality, the nature of our soul, redemption, and eternity are all at stake when we discuss religion. But with politics? Of what import is the running of a country in comparison to 'forever and ever?' Music and arts? What does it matter which music you like best in comparison with the claim that God has made it possible for us to worship Him forever? Religion is avoided because eternity is at stake, not because of some unexplainable sense of respect for the worldviews of others.
Why, then, has it become socially acceptable to poke fun at and ridicule Christians? I would argue that, as a whole, the American Church has lost the focus of the Gospel. Christianity, for many, means 'Your Best Life Now' or simply what you do on Sunday mornings. The Gospel is interpreted in light of our lives, not the other way around. Because the message of the Gospel has been diluted to human terms rather than marveled at because of it's divine nature, there is less at stake. Eternity is no longer the focus: retirement is. Furthermore, we flaunt our religiosity without any thought to whether or not that expression is morally right or beneficial. Dawkins provides an example of this, but it's given in light of the relationship of church and state, freedom of religion, not in the context of Christians being Bible-thumpers or intolerant social critics (just in case someone accuses me of taking his example out of context).
"... In 2004 James Nixon, a twelve-year-old boy in Ohio, won the right in court to wear a T-shirt to school bearing the words 'Homosexuality is a sin, Islam is a lie, abortion is murder. Some issues are just black and white!' The school told him not to wear the T-shirt - and the boy's parents sued the school. (45, Mariner Books edition, 2008)" Putting aside the claims made by the shirt, what is the attitude of the shirt itself? Love doesn't even come close, even though Christ's second commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself. In this world of gated communities and country clubs, it's understandable that neighbor has taken on a meaning more like 'someone living near you, who just so happens to look like you talk like you and think like you.' But what does Christ mean by neighbor? Well, he illustrates by a story. The parable of the Good Samaritan is what follows (Luke 11:25-37). The injured man (probably understood to be Jewish by those listening) isn't helped by his brothers, but by a foreigner: a half-breed (that's what the Samaritans were: half-Jews). It is clear that this 'half-breed' is the man's neighbor. What does that mean for us? Our neighbors are who ever we come into contact with.
Next, I want to look at the statement 'Some issues are just black and white.' Again, ignoring the claims of the shirt, what is the attitude? Inviting doesn't even come close. This pushes away anyone with dissenting views by refusing to listen, effectively killing any possibility of relationships with non-believers. And with all due respect to Crusades and altar calls, in my opinion, real conversion and real growth happens through relationships. When others see our love and our good deeds, it should cause them to glorify our Father in heaven (1 Peter 2:12) If we're not even in relationships with non-believers because we give off such an air of arrogance and unflinching dedication to what we believe, how can we hope to obey Christ when he tells us to 'go and make disciples of all the nations? (Matthew 28:19)'
These two issues are related (and more than just by the T-shirt). If we truly love others and desire the best for them, we will, in our relationships with them, act in such a way to point them to Christ. Whether or not they eventually gaze on the face of Christ rests in our Father's hands, but the call to us is to at least give them an opportunity to see it. This does not, by any means, suggest that we befriend non-believers in order to save them: there's nothing worse than feeling like a project. But rather, because we live our lives in love and service, others are attracted to the Gospel. God uses the church, collectively and individually, as broken and fickle as it is, not only to encourage the community of believers, but to reach out and impact the community that surrounds it.
Chapter One is called 'A Deeply Religious Non-Believer.' It's basically the introduction for the book. Dawkins describes his own view point and addresses how he is going to treat and address religion. "I shall not go out of my way to offend, but nor shall I don kid gloves to handle religion any more gently than I would handle anything else" is his concluding statement. His observation is that religious sentiments, unlike political leanings or musical preference, aren't touched by anything short of a '39 1/2 foot pole.' And he's right: unless we're talking about Christianity, religious commentary and criticism is a thing unheard of and frowned upon.One of my problems with Dawkins, not just in this chapter but in the rest of the book (as far as I've read), is that he will often make some social observation but spend no time or ink trying to figure out why it is true. Example: avoidance of religion. Let me offer my own solution to this observation. Religion deals with the infinite and the sublime. The afterlife, true reality, the nature of our soul, redemption, and eternity are all at stake when we discuss religion. But with politics? Of what import is the running of a country in comparison to 'forever and ever?' Music and arts? What does it matter which music you like best in comparison with the claim that God has made it possible for us to worship Him forever? Religion is avoided because eternity is at stake, not because of some unexplainable sense of respect for the worldviews of others.
Why, then, has it become socially acceptable to poke fun at and ridicule Christians? I would argue that, as a whole, the American Church has lost the focus of the Gospel. Christianity, for many, means 'Your Best Life Now' or simply what you do on Sunday mornings. The Gospel is interpreted in light of our lives, not the other way around. Because the message of the Gospel has been diluted to human terms rather than marveled at because of it's divine nature, there is less at stake. Eternity is no longer the focus: retirement is. Furthermore, we flaunt our religiosity without any thought to whether or not that expression is morally right or beneficial. Dawkins provides an example of this, but it's given in light of the relationship of church and state, freedom of religion, not in the context of Christians being Bible-thumpers or intolerant social critics (just in case someone accuses me of taking his example out of context).
"... In 2004 James Nixon, a twelve-year-old boy in Ohio, won the right in court to wear a T-shirt to school bearing the words 'Homosexuality is a sin, Islam is a lie, abortion is murder. Some issues are just black and white!' The school told him not to wear the T-shirt - and the boy's parents sued the school. (45, Mariner Books edition, 2008)" Putting aside the claims made by the shirt, what is the attitude of the shirt itself? Love doesn't even come close, even though Christ's second commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself. In this world of gated communities and country clubs, it's understandable that neighbor has taken on a meaning more like 'someone living near you, who just so happens to look like you talk like you and think like you.' But what does Christ mean by neighbor? Well, he illustrates by a story. The parable of the Good Samaritan is what follows (Luke 11:25-37). The injured man (probably understood to be Jewish by those listening) isn't helped by his brothers, but by a foreigner: a half-breed (that's what the Samaritans were: half-Jews). It is clear that this 'half-breed' is the man's neighbor. What does that mean for us? Our neighbors are who ever we come into contact with.
Next, I want to look at the statement 'Some issues are just black and white.' Again, ignoring the claims of the shirt, what is the attitude? Inviting doesn't even come close. This pushes away anyone with dissenting views by refusing to listen, effectively killing any possibility of relationships with non-believers. And with all due respect to Crusades and altar calls, in my opinion, real conversion and real growth happens through relationships. When others see our love and our good deeds, it should cause them to glorify our Father in heaven (1 Peter 2:12) If we're not even in relationships with non-believers because we give off such an air of arrogance and unflinching dedication to what we believe, how can we hope to obey Christ when he tells us to 'go and make disciples of all the nations? (Matthew 28:19)'
These two issues are related (and more than just by the T-shirt). If we truly love others and desire the best for them, we will, in our relationships with them, act in such a way to point them to Christ. Whether or not they eventually gaze on the face of Christ rests in our Father's hands, but the call to us is to at least give them an opportunity to see it. This does not, by any means, suggest that we befriend non-believers in order to save them: there's nothing worse than feeling like a project. But rather, because we live our lives in love and service, others are attracted to the Gospel. God uses the church, collectively and individually, as broken and fickle as it is, not only to encourage the community of believers, but to reach out and impact the community that surrounds it.
3.16.2008
New Sins for a New Society
What's this!? Two posts in one day! That's crazy talk! Preposterous! Well you better believe it, sister.
It rained yesterday: an unusual occurrence here in Raleigh over the past 3 months or so. In order to further enjoy the precipitation (and a little bit of humidity), I took my newly arrived edition of Time Magazine out to the front porch, plopped down in a camp chair, and set to reading. Articles about the governor of New York who recently resigned due to exposure of involvement in a prostitution ring, the decline of the movie star, and the 'reinvention' of Jesus as a Jew (you mean he isn't white!?) all drew my attention. But the one that was the most thought provoking was the final essay in the magazine.
Titled 'The New Road to Hell,' the essay comments on the Vatican's new additions (unofficially, I think) to the list of the seven deadly sins. According to the Pope, "We are losing the notion of sin." Their (the Papacy and some Catholic officials) solution is to, in a sense, broaden the list of sins which must be confessed. To sins like lust, pride, and gluttony are added a laundry list of social sins: " "You offend God not only by stealing, blaspheming or coveting your neighbor's wife" but also by polluting, cloning, taking drugs, promoting social injustice or becoming obscenely rich." (Double quotes are Gianfranco Girotti's, #2 official over confessions and penitence)
As Gibbs, the author points out, "...sin is the saboteur that keeps us from grace, separates us from God. The new list is about what separates us from one another." She suggests that this broadening of the spectrum of sin will ultimately "make sin smaller, not bigger or more relevant."
I agree with her, but for different reasons. It is not the "abstraction" of formerly intimate failings, as Gibbs suggests, that will make sin diminish in severity. Rather, it is the object of our sin that will result in this decline. Joseph, in his defense against Potiphar's Wife, says "How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" (Gen 39:9) David, in confessing his sin with Bathsheba, declares to God "Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight." (Psalm 51:4) Paul, on the road to Damascus, is questioned by Christ (who, by this point, has ascended), who says "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" and "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." (Acts 9:4 & 5) Clearly, the understanding of sin in the Old and New Testaments is that sin is always against God.
This poses a problem. Sin is only as bad or serious as the one sinned against. (I'm pretty sure somebody else said that, but I can't for the life of me remember who.) The problem with the new list of sins is that it switches the victim of our sin from God to men. When that happens, the severity of our sin lessens infinitely: men aren't so great, so what's the big deal if we offend a couple? But if we maintain a right view of sin, that it is always against God, the seriousness of our sin and our plight remains. God is infinite, and therefore we, in our sins, are infinitely in need of grace. The glory of the cross is that our infinite God came to Earth in human form (for only a man could pay for the sins of man) to pay the infinite cost of our sin. The triumph of the resurrection is that this infinite God credited to us His own infinite righteousness, allowing us to come before Him in prayer, supplication, and praise.
It rained yesterday: an unusual occurrence here in Raleigh over the past 3 months or so. In order to further enjoy the precipitation (and a little bit of humidity), I took my newly arrived edition of Time Magazine out to the front porch, plopped down in a camp chair, and set to reading. Articles about the governor of New York who recently resigned due to exposure of involvement in a prostitution ring, the decline of the movie star, and the 'reinvention' of Jesus as a Jew (you mean he isn't white!?) all drew my attention. But the one that was the most thought provoking was the final essay in the magazine.
Titled 'The New Road to Hell,' the essay comments on the Vatican's new additions (unofficially, I think) to the list of the seven deadly sins. According to the Pope, "We are losing the notion of sin." Their (the Papacy and some Catholic officials) solution is to, in a sense, broaden the list of sins which must be confessed. To sins like lust, pride, and gluttony are added a laundry list of social sins: " "You offend God not only by stealing, blaspheming or coveting your neighbor's wife" but also by polluting, cloning, taking drugs, promoting social injustice or becoming obscenely rich." (Double quotes are Gianfranco Girotti's, #2 official over confessions and penitence)As Gibbs, the author points out, "...sin is the saboteur that keeps us from grace, separates us from God. The new list is about what separates us from one another." She suggests that this broadening of the spectrum of sin will ultimately "make sin smaller, not bigger or more relevant."
I agree with her, but for different reasons. It is not the "abstraction" of formerly intimate failings, as Gibbs suggests, that will make sin diminish in severity. Rather, it is the object of our sin that will result in this decline. Joseph, in his defense against Potiphar's Wife, says "How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" (Gen 39:9) David, in confessing his sin with Bathsheba, declares to God "Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight." (Psalm 51:4) Paul, on the road to Damascus, is questioned by Christ (who, by this point, has ascended), who says "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" and "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." (Acts 9:4 & 5) Clearly, the understanding of sin in the Old and New Testaments is that sin is always against God.
This poses a problem. Sin is only as bad or serious as the one sinned against. (I'm pretty sure somebody else said that, but I can't for the life of me remember who.) The problem with the new list of sins is that it switches the victim of our sin from God to men. When that happens, the severity of our sin lessens infinitely: men aren't so great, so what's the big deal if we offend a couple? But if we maintain a right view of sin, that it is always against God, the seriousness of our sin and our plight remains. God is infinite, and therefore we, in our sins, are infinitely in need of grace. The glory of the cross is that our infinite God came to Earth in human form (for only a man could pay for the sins of man) to pay the infinite cost of our sin. The triumph of the resurrection is that this infinite God credited to us His own infinite righteousness, allowing us to come before Him in prayer, supplication, and praise.
Sunday Hymn - How Great Thou Art
Spring is starting to show. Thunderstorms, beautiful days that are warm but not yet hot, and singing birds all herald the rebirth and beauty that is more and more evident each day. As I'm daily reminded of the beauty of creation, whether biking to campus or spending an afternoon reading at the J.C. Raulston Arboretum, I am moved more and more toward praise and admiration of its Creator. It is remarkable to me that people can see the beauty of creation, the diversity of plants and animals, the intricacies of life itself, and deny that there is something, someone behind it all. God certainly declares Himself in His creation, and if we miss the face of the Father in the beauty of the earth, we miss the beauty of the earth.O! Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
When through the fields and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze;
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And there proclaim: 'My God how great Thou art!'
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
3.14.2008
Finally, What We Actually Did!
Here's the week in quick review. Now in HD!
Monday morning, bright and early, we got our breakfast, our assignment, and our tools: 18 shovels, 4 post hole diggers, 2 pick axes, 2 wheelbarrows, and 1 sledgehammer. After laying out the lot and picking where the house was actually going to go, our boss-man (also named Andrew) set us to digging. After a morning of digging a trench, a back hoe showed up with a two foot auger attached, and while we were away for lunch, he drilled 'pilots' for all of our holes. After lunch, more trenches were dug, some by hand, some by back hoe, a pump and water tank were temporarily rerouted, mud was thrown, moved, and some people got to know the holes quite well. We left with a profound sense of accomplishment: all the holes were ready to carve out to size (from a 2-foot diameter to 2.5 x 2.5 x 4), and we were working well as a team.
Then Monday night happened. The torrential rain that came through, as one might expect, turned our lovely foundation into a mud slick dotted with rain filled holes. But, we took to it. Wheelbarrowing was more like gliding and drifting, post hole diggers were wielded like spears, and everyone left much more in touch with 'terra firma' than when we got there. Some did arts and crafts (tying rebar 'sculptures' that looked like some twisted antenna from Alpha Centauri), and they were ridiculed at great length by us 'real workers.' After much manpower, mud, and mockery, we packed up for the day, leaving footprints of mud wherever we stepped.
Wednesday was a waiting game. We touched up some holes and took care of some odds and ends, and by 10:00, we were all set to wait until about 11:00, maybe 11:30 for the concrete to arrive and for us to fill the holes, skip lunch, and be done with the day around 2:00. As it turns out, 2:00 is about when the concrete arrived. So for almost 4 hours, the attitude on the work site resembled a siesta with a profound identity crisis. People napped in wheelbarrows, on platters of 16" block, or just on the ground. Frisbees came out, bearded
gnomes were chased around the site, and sighs abounded. Initially, at any sound even closely resembling a concrete mixer, all heads would perk up and turn toward the sound, making the muddy construction site resemble the African plains (we looked like meerkats, is what I'm saying). But, as the hours passed, we no longer expended the effort to even turn our heads. Finally the truck arrived, the concrete got poured, and we went back to the church.
That night we went to a local seafood joint for dinner. I don't remember the name, but it was awesome. They had craw fish for $2.99 a pound, and we went to town on those bad boys. It was awesome. That's all I have to say about that.
Thursday was bittersweet. The concrete had set up, so we spent the day mixing mortar, raising columns of 16" block, and ultimately tidying up the site for the next crew. By the end of the day, each of the 28 columns was ready to have concrete poured in and around it, and according to our site boss, we did, in four days, the amount of work that usually takes three weeks. A point of pride? Maybe. I think our numbers probably had something to do with it, not to mention the fact that Josh Clark was a hero at pushing a loaded wheelbarrow through mud, John Miller got good experience as a Construction Management major, and Jacob Hall is a natural at laying block.
I just checked the blog from Lagniappe Church, and University of South Carolina students poured concrete into the columns recently (they look a little higher than when we finished them, but i guess that's what the group after us did). In the unlikely event that any of them ever see this, I just want to say that we're glad to have been able to participate in the restoration of the gulf with others. Even if we never meet on the site, or at all (summer conference?), it is our efforts together that impact lives. Columns can't be built without a foundation, and even the best foundation (ours, I'm sure, is not) is wasted unless someone else comes to build on it.
Above all, even though my tendency is toward pride in the work NC State did in the gulf, I must remind myself that God is the one at work. In us, through us, and overwhelmingly in spite of us. If God does not bless the work of our hands, of Spring Break trips to the Gulf Coast, of Lagniappe Church, of anything, then it will, in spite of all apparent success or prosperity, fall astronomically short of our own goals. But, if we approach work with reliance on God and deference to His plan, we can rejoice in the fact that our infinite God chooses to bless sinners in a fallen world through other sinners. How great is our God!
That seems like enough for now. The ride back is a story in itself, but hopefully it'll show up here before too long.
Monday morning, bright and early, we got our breakfast, our assignment, and our tools: 18 shovels, 4 post hole diggers, 2 pick axes, 2 wheelbarrows, and 1 sledgehammer. After laying out the lot and picking where the house was actually going to go, our boss-man (also named Andrew) set us to digging. After a morning of digging a trench, a back hoe showed up with a two foot auger attached, and while we were away for lunch, he drilled 'pilots' for all of our holes. After lunch, more trenches were dug, some by hand, some by back hoe, a pump and water tank were temporarily rerouted, mud was thrown, moved, and some people got to know the holes quite well. We left with a profound sense of accomplishment: all the holes were ready to carve out to size (from a 2-foot diameter to 2.5 x 2.5 x 4), and we were working well as a team.
Then Monday night happened. The torrential rain that came through, as one might expect, turned our lovely foundation into a mud slick dotted with rain filled holes. But, we took to it. Wheelbarrowing was more like gliding and drifting, post hole diggers were wielded like spears, and everyone left much more in touch with 'terra firma' than when we got there. Some did arts and crafts (tying rebar 'sculptures' that looked like some twisted antenna from Alpha Centauri), and they were ridiculed at great length by us 'real workers.' After much manpower, mud, and mockery, we packed up for the day, leaving footprints of mud wherever we stepped.Wednesday was a waiting game. We touched up some holes and took care of some odds and ends, and by 10:00, we were all set to wait until about 11:00, maybe 11:30 for the concrete to arrive and for us to fill the holes, skip lunch, and be done with the day around 2:00. As it turns out, 2:00 is about when the concrete arrived. So for almost 4 hours, the attitude on the work site resembled a siesta with a profound identity crisis. People napped in wheelbarrows, on platters of 16" block, or just on the ground. Frisbees came out, bearded
gnomes were chased around the site, and sighs abounded. Initially, at any sound even closely resembling a concrete mixer, all heads would perk up and turn toward the sound, making the muddy construction site resemble the African plains (we looked like meerkats, is what I'm saying). But, as the hours passed, we no longer expended the effort to even turn our heads. Finally the truck arrived, the concrete got poured, and we went back to the church.That night we went to a local seafood joint for dinner. I don't remember the name, but it was awesome. They had craw fish for $2.99 a pound, and we went to town on those bad boys. It was awesome. That's all I have to say about that.
Thursday was bittersweet. The concrete had set up, so we spent the day mixing mortar, raising columns of 16" block, and ultimately tidying up the site for the next crew. By the end of the day, each of the 28 columns was ready to have concrete poured in and around it, and according to our site boss, we did, in four days, the amount of work that usually takes three weeks. A point of pride? Maybe. I think our numbers probably had something to do with it, not to mention the fact that Josh Clark was a hero at pushing a loaded wheelbarrow through mud, John Miller got good experience as a Construction Management major, and Jacob Hall is a natural at laying block.I just checked the blog from Lagniappe Church, and University of South Carolina students poured concrete into the columns recently (they look a little higher than when we finished them, but i guess that's what the group after us did). In the unlikely event that any of them ever see this, I just want to say that we're glad to have been able to participate in the restoration of the gulf with others. Even if we never meet on the site, or at all (summer conference?), it is our efforts together that impact lives. Columns can't be built without a foundation, and even the best foundation (ours, I'm sure, is not) is wasted unless someone else comes to build on it.
Above all, even though my tendency is toward pride in the work NC State did in the gulf, I must remind myself that God is the one at work. In us, through us, and overwhelmingly in spite of us. If God does not bless the work of our hands, of Spring Break trips to the Gulf Coast, of Lagniappe Church, of anything, then it will, in spite of all apparent success or prosperity, fall astronomically short of our own goals. But, if we approach work with reliance on God and deference to His plan, we can rejoice in the fact that our infinite God chooses to bless sinners in a fallen world through other sinners. How great is our God!
That seems like enough for now. The ride back is a story in itself, but hopefully it'll show up here before too long.
3.10.2008
Bay St. Louis, But Not Really
As I promised, here's a little report on our time in Bay St. Louis. Well, report yes. Little, we'll see.
Sunday, after church, our group went to New Orleans for the afternoon. One thing that really struck me there was the extent of the poverty there, and the accepted, almost institutional nature of it. When we got off the highway to go to the French Quarter, there was literally a village of tents underneath the freeway. Among the pillars supporting the eight lanes of highway were an overwhelming number of tents crammed together. It was such a strange picture of the prosperity that New Orleans experiences (you don't have eight lanes of highway for nothing) blended with the abject poverty that is simultaneously ignored and accepted. As we drove toward the French Quarter, we saw some of the nicest hotels and malls that I have ever seen, and it killed me that people live and 'thrive' in that environment without even glancing at the homelessness and hunger that surrounds them. It reminds me of the sign that we keep in our house, in a strange way.
We have this road sign that we encourage visitors to The Estate to sign. At first, I was proud of the sign, and as I came out of my room I would look at it, inspect the names, and when new guests came, encourage them to sign immediately. But, as the semester went on and new faces were less frequent, the sign just blended into the house. It's definitely a part of the house, and when people come over for the first time they invariably ask about it, but it's not something that I, as a resident, notice anymore. My guess is that the same thing happened in New Orleans. I heard a little kid (maybe with a family of other tourists, but also maybe one who lives there) ask his parents why a man was sleeping on the sidewalk, and the mother hurried him along. You can see signs of poverty and need everywhere. But. It's almost like that poverty has become part of the city that is no longer noticed by those who live there. Newcomers notice it, but don't have the permanence or means to do anything about it. It is a terrible, ignored, and accepted reality.
Contrasting this, I saw the nicest church I've ever seen (and got to go in). It is the Catholic church that is in the French Quarter, standing at the far end of a park, facing the water. It truly is a beautiful building. I went inside, took some pictures, asked about its history from one of the many tour guides there, and admired its stain glass windows and ceiling murals. But what I couldn't understand was why I neither heard nor saw any evidence of that church's work at restoration. I saw nothing about involvement in the community, efforts toward rebuilding after Katrina, or even an alms box for the poor. Now, it may be that I missed those things, but it seems to me that it a trend of the church in America to avoid its call to participate in bringing people back to God. In serving and loving. In redemption. We experience such wealth, such prosperity. And yet,
we are so attached to what we have deemed 'security' (our bank account and possessions), so lacking in trust that God will provide, and so concerned with other's view of us that we kill ourselves working at jobs that we hate so that we can buy things that no one needs (an enormous house, mountains of clothes, wide-screen plasma televisions, $75,000 cars) for our enjoyment and self-glorification. Why do we ignore the greatest commandments of Christ: love the Lord your God with all you heart, and love your neighbor as yourself? How is love manifested in 'keeping up with the Joneses'? How is our pursuit of our own comfort, our own advancement in social status, loving the Lord?
I'm not advocating that we don't at all enjoy the blessings that Christ gives us. There is a very real sense in which love toward others can mean simply opening your home to others and allowing them to share in the blessings that you are given. But I think that Christians, individually, and the church, as a whole, need to take a long, serious look at how and to what extent others are loved (they'll know we are Christians by our love), blessed (in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed), and ultimately brought closer to Christ to participate in the glorification of God (What is the chief end of man?) because of their existence. What other purpose does the church exist for?
Obviously this has not touched at all on Mississippi. Maybe I'll get around to it next time.
Sunday, after church, our group went to New Orleans for the afternoon. One thing that really struck me there was the extent of the poverty there, and the accepted, almost institutional nature of it. When we got off the highway to go to the French Quarter, there was literally a village of tents underneath the freeway. Among the pillars supporting the eight lanes of highway were an overwhelming number of tents crammed together. It was such a strange picture of the prosperity that New Orleans experiences (you don't have eight lanes of highway for nothing) blended with the abject poverty that is simultaneously ignored and accepted. As we drove toward the French Quarter, we saw some of the nicest hotels and malls that I have ever seen, and it killed me that people live and 'thrive' in that environment without even glancing at the homelessness and hunger that surrounds them. It reminds me of the sign that we keep in our house, in a strange way.
We have this road sign that we encourage visitors to The Estate to sign. At first, I was proud of the sign, and as I came out of my room I would look at it, inspect the names, and when new guests came, encourage them to sign immediately. But, as the semester went on and new faces were less frequent, the sign just blended into the house. It's definitely a part of the house, and when people come over for the first time they invariably ask about it, but it's not something that I, as a resident, notice anymore. My guess is that the same thing happened in New Orleans. I heard a little kid (maybe with a family of other tourists, but also maybe one who lives there) ask his parents why a man was sleeping on the sidewalk, and the mother hurried him along. You can see signs of poverty and need everywhere. But. It's almost like that poverty has become part of the city that is no longer noticed by those who live there. Newcomers notice it, but don't have the permanence or means to do anything about it. It is a terrible, ignored, and accepted reality.
Contrasting this, I saw the nicest church I've ever seen (and got to go in). It is the Catholic church that is in the French Quarter, standing at the far end of a park, facing the water. It truly is a beautiful building. I went inside, took some pictures, asked about its history from one of the many tour guides there, and admired its stain glass windows and ceiling murals. But what I couldn't understand was why I neither heard nor saw any evidence of that church's work at restoration. I saw nothing about involvement in the community, efforts toward rebuilding after Katrina, or even an alms box for the poor. Now, it may be that I missed those things, but it seems to me that it a trend of the church in America to avoid its call to participate in bringing people back to God. In serving and loving. In redemption. We experience such wealth, such prosperity. And yet,
we are so attached to what we have deemed 'security' (our bank account and possessions), so lacking in trust that God will provide, and so concerned with other's view of us that we kill ourselves working at jobs that we hate so that we can buy things that no one needs (an enormous house, mountains of clothes, wide-screen plasma televisions, $75,000 cars) for our enjoyment and self-glorification. Why do we ignore the greatest commandments of Christ: love the Lord your God with all you heart, and love your neighbor as yourself? How is love manifested in 'keeping up with the Joneses'? How is our pursuit of our own comfort, our own advancement in social status, loving the Lord?I'm not advocating that we don't at all enjoy the blessings that Christ gives us. There is a very real sense in which love toward others can mean simply opening your home to others and allowing them to share in the blessings that you are given. But I think that Christians, individually, and the church, as a whole, need to take a long, serious look at how and to what extent others are loved (they'll know we are Christians by our love), blessed (in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed), and ultimately brought closer to Christ to participate in the glorification of God (What is the chief end of man?) because of their existence. What other purpose does the church exist for?
Obviously this has not touched at all on Mississippi. Maybe I'll get around to it next time.
3.09.2008
Sunday Hymn - From the Depths of Woe
As I wrote last week (during the storm), it was hard for me to put myself on the same level of deprivation and need for salvation as those we helped in Mississippi (and everyone there we didn't help). But as this hymn reminds me, it is from the depths of woe that Christ rescues us from, no matter what we have to bring to the table. As I was reminded in church this morning, whether or not I actually held the nails, 'it was my sin that held Him there.' Humanity's worst expression of sin is also the most glorious redemption we could imagine. I love how this song moves from the depravity of our state to the glorious grace that is offered to us.
From the depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?
O who shall stand before Thee?
To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! Are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth;
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy
And live alone by mercy.
Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in my own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His word
Upholds my fainting spirit;
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience
I wait for it with patience.
What though I wait the live-long night,
And 'til the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth;
Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait 'til God appeareth
And wait 'til God appeareth.
Though great our sins and sore our woes
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our upmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free
From all their sin and sorrow
From all their sin and sorrow.
From the depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?
O who shall stand before Thee?
To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! Are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth;
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy
And live alone by mercy.
Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in my own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His word
Upholds my fainting spirit;
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience
I wait for it with patience.
What though I wait the live-long night,
And 'til the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth;
Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait 'til God appeareth
And wait 'til God appeareth.
Though great our sins and sore our woes
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our upmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free
From all their sin and sorrow
From all their sin and sorrow.
3.06.2008
For Further Reading...
As many of you know, my brother is in Guatemela for another month and a half or so (he's been there about a month). You may not know, however, that he has a blog that he updates from time to time with the work that is being done there and his thoughts and observations about the impact God is having on the community and others through and in spite of him. And I don't think it's too far to say that he's an excellent writer. So. If you're up for some more Shank musings, shuffle on over to www.lifeinguate.blogspot.com and poke around.
Meanwhile, back in the states...
We finished up our last day of work about two hours ago, ate, cleaned the kitchen, finished our 'where yat sign', and showered (we had a lovely Christmas carol sing-a-long). It's been fun, hot, sweaty, dirty, and exhausting, but, as some of us were reflecting earlier, I can't imagine a better Spring Break. With that said, expect pictures and stories within the next couple days, and hopefully progress pictures over the next weeks and months as the work continues. But, there's a concert here tonight and we have a 14 hour drive in front of us tomorrow, so it'll have to wait until later.
Meanwhile, back in the states...
We finished up our last day of work about two hours ago, ate, cleaned the kitchen, finished our 'where yat sign', and showered (we had a lovely Christmas carol sing-a-long). It's been fun, hot, sweaty, dirty, and exhausting, but, as some of us were reflecting earlier, I can't imagine a better Spring Break. With that said, expect pictures and stories within the next couple days, and hopefully progress pictures over the next weeks and months as the work continues. But, there's a concert here tonight and we have a 14 hour drive in front of us tomorrow, so it'll have to wait until later.
3.04.2008
Writing the Storm Out
Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne;
steadfast love and faithfulness go before you.
Psalm 89:14
Here's a little context: it's midnight, I'm tired, and the lights are out in the bunkhouse. Unfortunately, I was awoken by a full-blown stuffy nose about half an hour ago and realized that I was in dire need of not only a Kleenex, but a toilet. Sadly, neither of those were present in the bunkhouse, so I had to come into the main building. While here, the rain started. Now, for those of you who know me, you know I'm a man's man: I'm not scared of getting wet or rained on or anything like that. This is a completely different story. The rainfall is torrential. It's amazing to watch, but frustrating that it stands between me and the prospects of a dry bed.
So here I am, at midnight, wanting to go to bed, but not willing to pass through the Red Sea to get there. While I wait out the storm, I figured a little update wouldn't be a bad thing (I'm in Bay St. Louis, MS, in case you didn't read the previous post).
We are digging a foundation (if you've ever dug a foundation, you'll know why this torrential rainfall ... unsettles me). I came expecting to build a roof or frame a house or fearing to paint. But the thought never crossed my mind that we would be put to work digging. Yet, as we work on the foundation, I realize that we are working on everything else. These people need homes that will last, and that only comes with a foundation that will stand. I'm sure everyone has heard a sermon on the wise man and the fool who each built a house, so I won't go into that here. I do want to talk about foundations, just in a different vein.
Go back and read the verse at the top again. It says that righteousness and justice are the foundations of God's throne. If our lives rest on God, His reign rests on righteousness and justice. Not ironically, these are two aspects of God's character that are most often questioned. How can a just God allow good people to suffer? How can a righteous God allow natural disasters like Katrina or tragedies like 9-11 to occur? Especially here, in the receding but very much lingering wake of the storm, God's justice is a sore subject. Where was justice in the destruction of thousands of homes, of businesses, of infrastructure? In fact, where was God at all?
These questions come from a faulty assumption that we don't deserve tragedy in our lives. That we somehow are exempt from suffering. In addition, there is a lack of trust in the plan of God. Yes the storm was painful, yes the damage and destruction was awful. But. Even now, just a few years afterward, rebuilding is evident. New homes, better than the ones that existed, are going up. Community exists, both in the church and in the streets, that was absent before. People's sinfulness and screwed up lives were revealed for what they really were, and restoration can happen.
One of the greatest challenges for me coming here is identifying with those whose lives are a mess. But I've been reminded (mostly through LPC's little devotion guide) that my life is just as much of a mess as theirs. Without Christ, I have no hope of pulling the pieces together and getting or keeping things in order. Without Christ, I cannot be restored to a right relationship with God. What a blessing it is for me to participate in a physical restoration that points to, with flashing lights and ringing bells, the greater restoration that Christ calls us to.
steadfast love and faithfulness go before you.
Psalm 89:14
Here's a little context: it's midnight, I'm tired, and the lights are out in the bunkhouse. Unfortunately, I was awoken by a full-blown stuffy nose about half an hour ago and realized that I was in dire need of not only a Kleenex, but a toilet. Sadly, neither of those were present in the bunkhouse, so I had to come into the main building. While here, the rain started. Now, for those of you who know me, you know I'm a man's man: I'm not scared of getting wet or rained on or anything like that. This is a completely different story. The rainfall is torrential. It's amazing to watch, but frustrating that it stands between me and the prospects of a dry bed.
So here I am, at midnight, wanting to go to bed, but not willing to pass through the Red Sea to get there. While I wait out the storm, I figured a little update wouldn't be a bad thing (I'm in Bay St. Louis, MS, in case you didn't read the previous post).
We are digging a foundation (if you've ever dug a foundation, you'll know why this torrential rainfall ... unsettles me). I came expecting to build a roof or frame a house or fearing to paint. But the thought never crossed my mind that we would be put to work digging. Yet, as we work on the foundation, I realize that we are working on everything else. These people need homes that will last, and that only comes with a foundation that will stand. I'm sure everyone has heard a sermon on the wise man and the fool who each built a house, so I won't go into that here. I do want to talk about foundations, just in a different vein.
Go back and read the verse at the top again. It says that righteousness and justice are the foundations of God's throne. If our lives rest on God, His reign rests on righteousness and justice. Not ironically, these are two aspects of God's character that are most often questioned. How can a just God allow good people to suffer? How can a righteous God allow natural disasters like Katrina or tragedies like 9-11 to occur? Especially here, in the receding but very much lingering wake of the storm, God's justice is a sore subject. Where was justice in the destruction of thousands of homes, of businesses, of infrastructure? In fact, where was God at all?
These questions come from a faulty assumption that we don't deserve tragedy in our lives. That we somehow are exempt from suffering. In addition, there is a lack of trust in the plan of God. Yes the storm was painful, yes the damage and destruction was awful. But. Even now, just a few years afterward, rebuilding is evident. New homes, better than the ones that existed, are going up. Community exists, both in the church and in the streets, that was absent before. People's sinfulness and screwed up lives were revealed for what they really were, and restoration can happen.
One of the greatest challenges for me coming here is identifying with those whose lives are a mess. But I've been reminded (mostly through LPC's little devotion guide) that my life is just as much of a mess as theirs. Without Christ, I have no hope of pulling the pieces together and getting or keeping things in order. Without Christ, I cannot be restored to a right relationship with God. What a blessing it is for me to participate in a physical restoration that points to, with flashing lights and ringing bells, the greater restoration that Christ calls us to.
3.02.2008
Sunday Hymn - Not What My Hands Have Done
I rolled into Lagniappe Presbyterian Church in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi yesterday around 4:30 with 16 other NC State students and our campus minister. We're here until Friday morning, and will be doing some kind of work: painting, roofing, general construction, demolition, something. As I was thinking and praying last night, I was struck with and reminded of the truth that there is absolutely nothing I can do to earn my salvation, increase God's love for me, or curry favor with Him. And I gotta tell you, that's good news. If it were up to me, I would fail miserably. Another glorious truth I was reminded of is that, in Christ, I can do nothing to make God love me less.
I woke up this morning still thinking about this truth, and realized that it applies to our trip here as well. If God does not bless this trip, we could all give our best effort and all the details could go right, and we will be a hindrance to the Gospel. But thankfully, joyfully, God is at work. The details could all go haywire, we could feel totally ineffective, and if God has His hand in it, His purposes will be accomplished. I think the hymn I've picked this morning expresses that truth beautifully: praising God for His work in our salvation, recognizing that our works are not to be viewed as work deserving of payment, but rather an overflowing of love and joy that manifests itself as service and love toward others.
Also, if you want to check out the church's website, here's a link: LPC.
Not what my hands have done
Can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne
Can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do
Can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers,
And sighs and tears
Can bear my awful load.
I woke up this morning still thinking about this truth, and realized that it applies to our trip here as well. If God does not bless this trip, we could all give our best effort and all the details could go right, and we will be a hindrance to the Gospel. But thankfully, joyfully, God is at work. The details could all go haywire, we could feel totally ineffective, and if God has His hand in it, His purposes will be accomplished. I think the hymn I've picked this morning expresses that truth beautifully: praising God for His work in our salvation, recognizing that our works are not to be viewed as work deserving of payment, but rather an overflowing of love and joy that manifests itself as service and love toward others.
Also, if you want to check out the church's website, here's a link: LPC.
Not what my hands have done
Can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne
Can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do
Can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers,
And sighs and tears
Can bear my awful load.
Thy work alone, O Christ,
Can ease this weight of sin
Thy blood alone O Lamb of God,
Can give me peace within.
Thy love to me O God,
Not mine, O Lord, to Thee
Can rid me of
This dark unrest,
And set my spirit free!
Thy grace alone, O God,
To me can pardon speak;
Thy power alone O Son of God,
Can this sore bondage break.
No other work, save Thine,
No other blood will do,
No strength save that,
Which is divine,
Can bear me safely through.
I bless the Christ of God;
I rest on love divine;
And with unfaltering lip and heart,
I call this Savior mine.
His cross dispels each doubt,
I bury in His tomb
My unbelief,
And all my fear,
Each lingering shade of gloom.
I praise the God of grace,
I trust His truth and might
He calls me His, I call Him mine,
My God, my joy, my light
’Tis He Who saveth me,
And freely pardon gives
I love because
He loveth me,
I live because He lives!
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