Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I know, I know: the title's boring. But you're just going to have to accept it, I'm afraid. And, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, I'm typing this in the future. I figure that since most of you will read this tomorrow, I might as well date it tomorrow. Keep in mind, however, that I am typing it the night before, so my references to "today" mean Tuesday, not Wednesday. I think it's pretty self-explanitory, though. The date is really for ease of navigation, and for me knowing what posting a comment got attached to when I get an email notice of a posted comment (which happens a little too rarely, I might say). On with it, then.

It's missions conference this week at school, which means that the class load is quite low for me. Classes are cancelled on Wednesday (hooray!), and several people will be away at Edmonton Missions Fest on Friday, so I'm not sure there'll be much substance to those courses (in fact, one of them is cancelled, too).

It also means that our chapel sessions are longer to accommodate a guest speaker and community involvement. This year's speaker is Floyd McClung, who leads a ministry called All Nations. He spoke at this morning's chapel, and it was one of those things where I'm sure I would've gotten more out of the talk had I agreed with his fundamental premise, which seemed to be that you can't be a true Christ follower unless you go out into the mission field.

I've heard that one before, and I've never really agreed with it. His thing is that being like Christ means being willing to give up everything you have to serve others in rotten conditions, just as He gave up His place in heaven to serve men on earth. My objection is this: why is foreign missions the only way to live a life of sacrifice?

For example, I'm a guy who's more than likely to go into a ministry career. In order to do this, I've had to sacrifice my ability to earn a nice paycheque at a secular job to commit to full-time ministry work. The work is hard and draining, and the pay is bad, but it's my calling, and I have to do it. That, to me, constitutes sacrifice.

Or what about the person who isn't a full-time minister (I don't want to be as guilty as Floyd is of narrowing the definition of sacrifice too much), but who diligently gives of their time and financial resources to support the work of Christ through His Church? After all, Jesus didn't commend the widow for her faith because she volunteered to go out into the mission field; He commended her because she gave up all she had--two coins--to the temple treasury. That was her sacrifice. Many people have been serving the Lord faithfully for decades, sacrificing things they would, I'm sure, rather be doing (like, say, a hobby) to support that work. Is that not a sacrifice, too?

And what about the fact that there's equally as much spiritual need here as there is in many developing nations. Yes, we have all the acoutrements of modern life, and yet we're lacking that moral core that allows us to function well as a society. Don't believe me? Just read the newspaper. What if my calling is to help young people in Langley become more Christ-like so that their generation makes a difference in the immorality that runs rampant in North America? Does someone from another country have to come here to meet our needs while I go to another country to meet their needs?

The other issue I had was with calling. Floyd told us that he's never been called by God to go anywhere, he just goes. God will never get upset with us for volunteering our services and just going without waiting to be asked. That, at least, is his premise.

Okay, sure, that's fine. But doesn't that take the authority for decision-making out of God's hands and put it squarely in ours? Don't we become the compass by which we navigate? If I decide I want to go somewhere and I go there, whether I feel God calling me there or not, doesn't that mean I'm putting myself and my priorities ahead of God?

He's even a little bit contradictory about this. For example, he and his family lived in the heart of Amsterdam's red light district for years, but they're now living in Capetown, South Africa. In both instances, they moved because they wanted to make a difference in those places. So, would they say they felt called? No? How so? And what's the difference between a call from God and an internal desire to make this difference for God. If the desire truly is to work for God, didn't God put it there? And if God didn't put it there, who did? Us, that's who.

Don't get me wrong: I heartily admire people like Floyd who pack up and live in dangerous situations because they really want to make that difference. Just don't make me feel like I'm less spiritual or less Christ-like because I feel that my calling is to make a difference in my own country as a pastor. Trust me, there's suffering here, too.

Moving on. Other than chapel this morning, the day was relatively free of obligations (besides those near-future due dates that are looming on the horizon--I can't see their shadows yet, though, so I'm unstressed about them). To celebrate, we all went over to Drumheller and the Royal Tyrell Museum of Paleontology. It was interesting to go after this weekend's conference and point out all the inconsistencies, but I won't get into that (a collective sigh of relief goes up from the audience).

If you can suspend your worldview for a moment and perhaps see the exhibits through differently coloured glasses, the museum is amazing. For example, instead of choosing to believe that all the exhibits were some cosmic accident, I saw the amazing variety and handiwork of God's creation. Incredible. They've done a really good job of making it interactive and informative, too, and it was well worth the $10 admission (although I think that's an off-season rate). We spent about two hours there, which seemed to be just the right amount of time. It was a nice way to spend an afternoon.

Got home, made some dinner, bathtime, some homework (I'm a little TV saturated this week), and now this, before I go wander down the hallway to the bedroom, where I'm sure I'll sleep awkwardly again and wake up with a crink in my neck. Seems to happen every night. Even though the matress we sleep on is approved by the Canadian Chiropractic Society. Ooh. Just because it's got some official seal on it doesn't mean that it'll last 30 years, that's all I'm saying.

On a side note, I'm finding school very interesting and challenging this semester. Why, just this evening I was working on three different things: critique of three sermons on Ezekiel 37 (the dry bones passage), a presentation and critique of a book about the meta-church movement and how to make your church one, and a presentation and critique of a conservative evangelical definition of evangelicalism, over and against the postconservative definition of the same. Very interesting stuff. Well, for me, at least. That last one is especially challenging; I've been waiting a very long time to be able to engage material like this at this level, so I'm totally psyched. The problem is that it's only supposed to be a 30-minute class presentation, and I have five pages of single-spaced notes, and I'm only about 2/3 of the way through. Hmm. The good thing is that I have to write a term paper afterward, so maybe what I gloss over in my presentation I'll hit wiht more gusto in my paper, where I have room to do so. Or I'll just keep talking until the prof gets up there and pulls me away from the lectern forcibly. One of the two.

Okey-dokey, then, I guess that's it for the evening. More controversy, I suppose, but that's what I'm about, really. Glad to be providing you with something to think on, at the very least. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you again tomorrow.