Thursday, October 25, 2012

Huffed and Puffed Houses


“According to the grace of God which was given to me, like a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building on it. But each man must be careful how he builds on it. For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work.”

1 Corinthians 3:10-14

“Little pig, little pig, let me in…”

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin…”

I had an amusing first lesson with my new youth group this Sunday. I used the story of the “Three Little Pigs” to try and illustrate the above text, and our conversation about it was enlightening. My group comes from many different nationalities, so different versions of the story came out. In the French version, for example, the little pigs whose houses were built of straw and sticks, and, consequently, blown down, were actually eaten by the big bad wolf. In the much more humane American version (and, perhaps, less realistic), the little pigs were blown by the huff-and-puff of the wolf into the brick house of their wiser brother.

Regardless of the degree of barbeque involved, the point of the story remains relevant and biblical. It is important how you build. There is no foundation that can hold against the elements other than Christ. Once on that foundation, however, one must decide how they construct their house.

You may choose to build houses of straw or sticks. The first two pigs chose this route, as it took less time and effort. There were plenty of these weaker materials lying all about. They could throw some of them together and be lounging in their new living rooms in no time. It was certainly the quickest way to get four walls and a roof.

Yet the big bad wolf was coming. The easy and weak houses were not strong enough to stand when the adversity came against them, and they fell. Perhaps you also chose the convenience of building your house on straw and sticks. You neglected to get serious about God’s word. You determined that you didn’t need to go to church in order to live a Christian life. A vibrant prayer life is something you always said would happen “someday.” Consequently, in the place of bricks, gold, silver, and precious stones, you built your house with hay, wood, sticks, and straw. And perhaps, like the poor little pigs, your house has been blown to the ground.

The fire reveals the purity of the work and is capable of devouring the whole structure. Yet the foundation, if it is laid on the strong rock of Christ and not on the sinking sand, will never give way. If you are in a place today where you find nothing but that foundation; if you are standing in the open air looking at the fallen rubble of what was once your house of straw, then there is nothing left to do but rebuild. But be careful how you build! Every day we must decide the quality of materials with which we build our house. We must choose wisely, as there are always big bad wolves just around the corner ready to test the quality of our work.

The third little pig had no reason to fear the fangs of the wolf. The house he had built was ample protection…even in the French version of the story. So as with the house built with God’s word.

The wolf huffed and puffed but he could not blow down that brick house.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Joy of the Bittersweet


For God is my witness, how I long for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 1:8

There is a great café in Paris that I’ll visit as soon as possible upon my reentry in France. Angelina’s has the world’s best hot chocolate (that is a fact, not an opinion). It is a strong and thick chocolate, and drinking it is like sipping on a melted candy bar. It is very sweet, and one cannot drink too much or they will get sick. There is just the right amount of bitter aftertaste at the end that perfects the experience. It is, however, a bittersweet chocolate.

I find the term “bittersweet” interesting. This paradoxical word helps us to describe something that we feel all too often. After every sweet gulp of life there lingers a small amount of bitterness that keeps us longing for a perfection that we haven’t quite grasped. The sweetness tempts us with hope, but it still remains a hope that has not yet been perfectly fulfilled.

I am sitting in the Charlotte airport with a bittersweet feeling. I am moving back to Paris, a city that I love and long to see know Jesus. I got a great job at a church working with youth and am thrilled with the opportunity to invest in young lives. I am about to renew old friendships in France after being away for a year. I have so much to be thankful for, and I am taking in all the sweetness of God’s provisions for me.

Yet even while enjoying these provisions, there is still a small, bitter aftertaste that I must endure. I have said many good-byes in the past few days. Some of the good-byes will be for short times, and others for long times. It was bitter saying good-bye to some friends that I don’t know when I’ll see again. It was bitter to walk out of my sister’s house last night after hugging my niece and nephew. It was bitter leaving my parents at the terminal as I proceeded through airport security. All of those steps leading me away from my loved ones were heavy steps.

Yet the steps toward God’s call were light. It is here, in this bittersweet life, where God has called us to perform the good works that He has prepared for us. While it was difficult leaving, I am thrilled to be following God down his narrow road. These mixed feelings, I have learned, will always be a part of our present and momentary troubles. No matter what continent I live on I will always be missing people I love. There will always be bittersweet feelings.

Yet bittersweet chocolate, as I hope I have already established, tastes delicious; and just like the bittersweet chocolate, this bittersweet feeling is good. It is a good thing that we long for one another, as Paul did for the Philippian church that he had to take heavy steps away from. The bitterness is only evidence of a deeper sweetness that waits only to be reawakened according to God’s providential guidance. The longing that we have for our loved ones is evidence that we have the treasure of relationships. The bittersweet experience of being away from loved ones is much better than the bitter experience of not having loved ones to miss.

I am blessed of God to have such an enormous weight of bittersweetness on my shoulders right now. This “bittersweetness” would not be possible without all of the great people that God has put in my path through the years. It is a great gift to be able to say, with Paul, that I “long for all of you in Christ Jesus.” It is a gift I treasure, and the bitterness only affirms its worth. While the bitterness may nevertheless be tough to swallow, it will only strengthen the sweetness of the moment when our longing is fulfilled.
All of these longings, of course, are only echoes of a deeper longing. God will fulfill that one as well.