Hello.
I am aware that a rather large period of time has passed since last I posted. As in nearly a month. As much as I feel like a horrible person for letting my blog fall by the wayside, I don't believe in posting just for the sake of posting. A lot has been going on--all good, so don't worry :) But the result has been a severe shortage in time available for blogging.
So I apologize and here I am now :)
I have been thinking back over common themes in my writing in the last year and perhaps the one that has stuck out the most, at least to me, is that of church. My own battles with past churches, a bit about my dissatisfaction with church now... that sort of thing. I grew up going to Pentecostal churches (with a stint in the Anglican as well). The result of this was that a great deal of emphasis growing up was placed on the experiential aspects of my faith. My church dealt a lot with emotionalism. The upside to this is that I know God created me as an emotional creature, and as such I also know that He speaks to me through that part of me. Vast numbers of my posts have detailed some of these very experiences.
What I find now, though, is that when it comes to church I crave so much more. Specifically, I crave teaching. When I am taught something about the Bible that I didn't previously know, or something that changes how I go about reading my Bible, my faith seems to come alive. I thrive on having my mind challenged, on having to engage my brain, on learning.
This has been something that I have been dealing with for quite a long time. It managed to make its way into a conversation I had last week with my boyfriend where he mentioned learning the Heidelberg Catechism growing up. I talked to my dad and it turns out he has a book on this catechism. I am forcing myself to read it slowly (the book is designed to be done over the course of a year), and thought I would share with you parts of my journey through it. Week one touched on the first two questions and answers of the catechism.
Question 1: What is your only comfort in life and in death?
Answer 1: That I am not my own, but belong--body and soul, in life and in death--to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with His precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to Him, Christ, by His Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for Him.
Question 2: What must you know to live and die in the joy of this comfort?
Answer 2: Three things: first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance.
Wow, right?
The devotion that goes along with these questions then makes the following point on the concept of comfort:
"Comfort does not mean Christ makes all the bad things in life go away. Comfort, as Ursinus put it, 'results from a certain process of reasoning, in which we oppose something good to something evil, that by a proper consideration of this good, we may mitigate our grief, and patiently endure evil.' In other words, comfort puts before us a greater joy to outweigh present and anticipated sufferings."
Comfort doesn't mean all the crap in life goes away. It doesn't mean the storm will stop. It doesn't mean all of the lights will go on and everything will suddenly become crystal clear. If I try to take comfort in the belief that God will take away all of my pain and suffering I will live only to be sorely disappointed.
But if I instead choose to take comfort in the knowledge that I belong to Christ, that He has saved my from my sin and my misery, and that because I belong to Him I have the promise of eternal life, then suddenly I have a greater joy to hold onto when things go wrong. When I come up against a brick wall, I won't be crushed because God doesn't make it go away. I will trust that He will help me climb the wall or find a way around it.
So this is what I am meditating on this week. Next week I will move onto the next few questions of the Heidelberg Catechism, but for now I will rest in the knowledge that my comfort is in Christ.
I am aware that a rather large period of time has passed since last I posted. As in nearly a month. As much as I feel like a horrible person for letting my blog fall by the wayside, I don't believe in posting just for the sake of posting. A lot has been going on--all good, so don't worry :) But the result has been a severe shortage in time available for blogging.
So I apologize and here I am now :)
I have been thinking back over common themes in my writing in the last year and perhaps the one that has stuck out the most, at least to me, is that of church. My own battles with past churches, a bit about my dissatisfaction with church now... that sort of thing. I grew up going to Pentecostal churches (with a stint in the Anglican as well). The result of this was that a great deal of emphasis growing up was placed on the experiential aspects of my faith. My church dealt a lot with emotionalism. The upside to this is that I know God created me as an emotional creature, and as such I also know that He speaks to me through that part of me. Vast numbers of my posts have detailed some of these very experiences.
What I find now, though, is that when it comes to church I crave so much more. Specifically, I crave teaching. When I am taught something about the Bible that I didn't previously know, or something that changes how I go about reading my Bible, my faith seems to come alive. I thrive on having my mind challenged, on having to engage my brain, on learning.
This has been something that I have been dealing with for quite a long time. It managed to make its way into a conversation I had last week with my boyfriend where he mentioned learning the Heidelberg Catechism growing up. I talked to my dad and it turns out he has a book on this catechism. I am forcing myself to read it slowly (the book is designed to be done over the course of a year), and thought I would share with you parts of my journey through it. Week one touched on the first two questions and answers of the catechism.
Question 1: What is your only comfort in life and in death?
Answer 1: That I am not my own, but belong--body and soul, in life and in death--to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with His precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to Him, Christ, by His Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for Him.
Question 2: What must you know to live and die in the joy of this comfort?
Answer 2: Three things: first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance.
Wow, right?
The devotion that goes along with these questions then makes the following point on the concept of comfort:
"Comfort does not mean Christ makes all the bad things in life go away. Comfort, as Ursinus put it, 'results from a certain process of reasoning, in which we oppose something good to something evil, that by a proper consideration of this good, we may mitigate our grief, and patiently endure evil.' In other words, comfort puts before us a greater joy to outweigh present and anticipated sufferings."
Comfort doesn't mean all the crap in life goes away. It doesn't mean the storm will stop. It doesn't mean all of the lights will go on and everything will suddenly become crystal clear. If I try to take comfort in the belief that God will take away all of my pain and suffering I will live only to be sorely disappointed.
But if I instead choose to take comfort in the knowledge that I belong to Christ, that He has saved my from my sin and my misery, and that because I belong to Him I have the promise of eternal life, then suddenly I have a greater joy to hold onto when things go wrong. When I come up against a brick wall, I won't be crushed because God doesn't make it go away. I will trust that He will help me climb the wall or find a way around it.
So this is what I am meditating on this week. Next week I will move onto the next few questions of the Heidelberg Catechism, but for now I will rest in the knowledge that my comfort is in Christ.
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