Very Good News

Two days ago I logged into my email account to find good news. I was awarded a scholarship by Southern Seminary that covers over half of my tuition for the first year of school. Year one will now be debt free! The award was given out based on academic considerations and ministry experience. As I wrote this essay to apply for the scholarship, I was reminded again and again of how gracious the Lord has been to give me the opportunity to grow as His servant throughout all of these experiences. Many of you have been partners with me in it all, and I thank you for that.

The most life-changing conversation I’ve ever had about ministry happened while I was sitting on top of a washing machine. I was your typical insecure freshman, just a handful of weeks into my four years at The Master’s College. Somewhere in between deciding whether this was a standard “medium” load or was large enough to qualify as “full,” up walked —–      —–. In my book, —– —– was the quintessential cool senior: Biblical Exposition major, student leader of the Chapel Media department. I don’t think —– had any laundry to do that day; he just wanted to find out how this particular freshman was adjusting to life at college. And the answer was not very well.

When —— first walked up, I expected the usual quick and casual conversation. Forty-five minutes later I had experienced for the first time how ministry isn’t a just a program, but rather ministry is the gospel applied to every situation in life. —– refused to be content with my superficial answers. And then he didn’t run away when when sinful patterns of thought were discovered in my heart.

I take the time to share that story because what I learned that day while sitting on the washing machine, participating in a conversation where someone wanted to get to know me not for what they could get out of me but rather what they could pour into me redefined for me what ministry is. It isn’t glamorous; it’s servanthood. It isn’t showy; it’s dying to self.

My Dad was the pastor of a small, rural Washington church, so opportunities were plenteous growing up. I helped cleaned the church, washed the communion cups on Sundays, ran the overhead projector during worship, gained over 1000 hours of community service helping build houses for predominately low-income minority families. But starting freshman year of college, ministry became more than just doing things. Ministry became living and speaking out the gospel in such a way that people were pointed to Christ Jesus as Someone to be made much of.

My first taste of this kind of ministry was in the residence halls at The Master’s College. As an Assistant Resident Assistant, my job was people. Get to know people. Encourage them in the Lord. Point them to Christ as all-sufficient in every need, every care, every problem. This meant some late nights, staying up so I could get to know my night-owl roommates. It also meant developing an interest in things that I ordinarily wouldn’t have given a second thought about–vegetarian cooking, rugby, philosophical indie films. But gospel ministry means seeking to minister to a person. And gospel ministry demands taking a genuine interest in that person, for Christ took a genuine interest in me.

In successive years I had the opportunity to serve as a Resident Assistant and Head Resident Assistant. Being an RA at Masters’ is a unique experience. The student life department pours itself into making the RAs men and women who are leaders amongst their peers. RA training is an intensive year-long process focusing on biblical counseling and peer-to-peer leadership.

Few things in life have been as difficult as ministry to my wing that first year of being an RA. Two of my guys confided in me that they seriously struggled with depression and had recently given serious thought to killing themselves. Another was discovered to have left a trail of deceit across his schoolwork and personal life. One of my roommates was addicted to World of Warcraft; another wouldn’t speak. Ministering the gospel to people who have inoculated themselves against it by strong professions and weak living is a disheartening thing.

But there were moments of grace.  —– ——– discovered his passion for teaching biology and using it as a tool in evangelism. —- ——— finally understood how the grace of God was a liberating thing, and not an oppressive master. I know these are just names to you. To me, they are my brothers with whom I was

The following year (my senior year), I was given a wing and a staff almost double the size of the previous year. It was another year full of But this time, the men the Lord placed around me were eager students of His Word. They wanted to grow. They wanted to serve. Whereas small group bible study was the most dreaded part of the week during my junior year, this year it was energizing. Every Thursday night we’d get together and dig into our theme, Gospel Risk. I watched as the Spirit used my teaching from the Word to transform them into men who understood that promises of a deeper relationship with Christ and eternal reward far outweighed comfort; and that this motivates us to live lives that do not make sense apart from the hope of the resurrection from the dead.

Partway through the year, one of our deans approached me and asked if I would be interested in preaching at a local drug rehabilitation ministry. I knew I was in for a different experience than I was used to when, on the first night, one of the residents stood up and shouted in as deep an African-American accent you can get, “Here’s another youn’ brotha’ in the Lord come to preach us da Word tonight!”

Preach the Word I did; it was a tremendous opportunity to grow in my ability to effectively communicate God’s Word. After a couple of times the men began to recognize me. One of them walked up one night and said, “We always love it when you come because we can tell that you really care about what you’re teachin’. You really believe it and that makes you easy to listen to.” For a young preacher, that was quite the encouraging affirmation to know that others were being blessed through my ministry.

Upon graduating I was asked to serve as an intern at Cornerstone Community Church in Atascadero, CA for a year. I had grown up in this church (after my Dad resigned from his church in Washington over doctrinal matters), and I was thrilled to work with people I knew and respected. I can’t even begin to say how much this year has impacted my understanding of the ministry. Like most college graduates, my idealism about life had spilled over into unadulterated romanticism. Working in a church changed that!

My days at Cornerstone have been filled with directing the youth ministry, biblical counseling, discipleship, oversight of the audio/visual ministry, writing theological articles for the bulletin, organizing conferences, designing fliers and handouts, leading small groups, one-on-one time with the senior pastor, preaching in his absence, fixing computers and copiers, and all the thousand other little things that need to happen for a church to effectively minister.

Through it all, I’ve learned yet again what —— ——– first taught me while sitting on that washing machine. Ministry isn’t glamourous; it’s servanthood. It isn’t showy; it’s dying to self. Ministering to make much of Jesus Christ is hard. Sin is real and sinners will hurt you. But of far greater gravity is the grace and glory of God. Because of that, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My Need Never Grows or Shrinks

On weeks that I preach in church, Thursday marks my heavy writing day. Monday and Tuesday are spent with nothing but a Bible and notebook, Wednesday is commentary day, and Thursday is rough draft day. Except this Thursday. This Thursday has been spent vacillating between shivering and sweating while warning office visitors to stay away so I don’t infect them with whatever bug I’ve come down with.

In the middle of praying that God would bless my limited study time earlier this afternoon, I was struck by the realization that I don’t need the Lord’s aid any more this week than in weeks prior. When my need is infinite, small details like sickness don’t matter. While my realization of my need is much greater this week, the actual need for God’s wisdom and guidance to handle His Word in a right and compelling way isn’t any different.

When Paul wrote of his thorn in the flesh to the Corinthians he said, “Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me” (2 Cor. 12:9). The Apostle’s experiencing the power of Christ is directly related to his understanding of his incredible need for Christ’s aid. The weaknesses are there whether he boasts in them or not; but the blessing created by the weaknesses only are his to own if he rejoices in seeing God’s power triumph in spite of his infirmities.

Gamma Wolf

Today I lost my desk chair, my work computer and my office. My name has been erased from the bulletin as the leader of the youth ministries at Cornerstone and the website will no longer direct all inquiries about youth ministry to my personal email. I’ve gone from being Beta Wolf to being Gamma Wolf.

Our church has been waiting excitedly for quite some time for our new Associate Pastor of Family Ministries, Curtis, to join us. My internship has about eight weeks left before I pack up and move to Kentucky to attend Southern Seminary. During these eight weeks of overlap, we’ll be team-teaching our youth group as he gradually takes over the helm of youth ministries.

As I’ve gone from being the director of the youth ministries to someone working under the director of youth ministries, I’ve been forced to wrestle with a question of ministerial identity the last couple of days. Do I define myself by what I do for the kingdom, or by the kingdom itself? Or put another way, do I find my identity, standing, and joy before the Lord in what I do for Him, or in what He’s done for me? Am I working for my kingdom or the Kingdom?

Sin is seductive and my heart is wandering, naturally turning its gaze from the Giver of all joy, all purpose, all meaning, all fulfillment, and all blessing to the things He has given for me to enjoy but never worship. And that can include ministry. It’s easy to build a kingdom. It’s much harder to remain dedicated while working for a Kingdom where the glory isn’t yours to have and hold. Oftentimes ministry begins with the best intentions, but jumps the track of worship into self-worship by failing to be ruthless with your own motives.

Curtis’ arrival has been a good heart-check. If there’s any resentment, if there’s any “my turf” mentality, then ministry has become an idol and I’m finding my identity in what I do for the Lord rather than in the all-sufficient atonement found in the cross of Christ. And anything other than finding my identity in the work Christ has done for me is idolatry. Thankfully, that has proven not to be the case.

It’s also a good reminder that I am entirely dispensable. God’s work in others’ lives is not dependent upon Nate Brooks ministering to them. People come, people go, and God works on. As the traditional “Who Will Weep When You Leave?” SLS Retreat Saturday morning message says, our job is to carry one brick in the lives of those around us. God is building a house of sanctification. It is He who does it, and He chooses to use his frail and battered creatures to aid in the process. But we’re not often called to be there for every aspect of construction. Our job is to faithfully carry one brick so another can lay yet another piece of clay on top of it.

I don’t think anyone is happier to see Curtis come than I am. Leading the group for the last year has made me painfully aware of my own glaring shortcomings as a teacher and a leader. My grasp of the Bible is limited, my ability to counsel shallow. I’m excited for them to sit under a man who can give them what they need much better than I can. And it’s exciting to commit them to the grace of God, knowing that He is faithful to complete in His children what He’s been faithful to begin.

The Danger of Listening to One Man

Have you ever stopped and wondered how the Corinthian believers managed to factionalize themselves between Paul, Peter, Apollos, and “Christ” without the aid of digital downloads? It’s not like Apollos or Peter tweeted pithy little theology sound-bites two or three times a day for their Corinthian fan club to chew over. And yet despite limited access to the teachings of these men, the Corinthian believers managed to shatter the unity of their church through by obsessing over the style and ministry of one particular church leader.

I’m definitely not the first to make this observation, but our generation is the first with almost unlimited access to thousands of sermons preached every Sunday. I can find a pastor who teaches in whatever style I most identify with. And rather than being challenged by the voices of people around me who have different perspectives and preferences, I can allow my understanding of biblical truth to be defined by a particular pastor I easily identify with rather than having to fight for clarity through the words of a pastor who communicates differently than I do.

Every preacher will over-emphasize and under-emphasize certain aspects of doctrine and practical living. The only preacher to ever strike a perfect balance was Jesus. I will naturally be drawn to listen to the preachers who emphasize what I emphasize and neglect what I neglect. Unfortunately, this means that I won’t be challenged in my weaknesses nearly as much as I should be. Putting only the familiar and the comfortable in my iPod will change me only in familiar and comfortable ways.

I don’t mean to sound like it’s wrong to have a favorite preacher. I have one: John Piper. He’s taught me incredible things about the glory of God and how delighting in Him is the chief end of man. He’s redefined my understanding of what it means to take radical risks for the kingdom of God and how often wisdom and risk are the same. And yet, listening to only Piper is dangerous. Dangerous that I will lose sight of some aspect of the full counsel of God that Piper does not emphasize and dangerous that I will begin to believe that only those who listen to Piper can understand the greatness of God. The Corinthians are proof that even a wonderful thing like unlimited access to sermons can be used by Satan and our own self-deceiving hearts to derail our spiritual growth.

So who do you listen to? Who do you read? Leave a comment at the bottom if you want. Outside of John Marc at Cornerstone, here’s the men who are shaping my understanding of the whole counsel of God:

Sermons:

Scott Ardavanis
Matt Chandler
John MacArthur
John Piper
David Platt
The Master’s College Podcast (Various Southern California Pastors)

Blogs:

Tim Challies
Gunner Gundersen
Albert Mohler
Russell Moore
John Piper/Desiring God
Pyromaniacs (Phil Johnson, Frank Turk, Dan Phillips)

Authors (During 2010):

Randy Alcorn
T. David Gordon
John MacArthur
Jason Meyer
Russell Moore
Tom Nettles
John Piper
Richard Sibbes
Thomas Watson

In Praise of My Church

Yesterday half of our church body was away on the annual Cornerstone Church Campout. Pastor John Marc and most of our young families took to the Oceano campgrounds, and I led the services back up in Atascadero. This Friday-Saturday-Sunday event has been a spring highlight for several years, but this year added a new wrinkle: We now have two services on Sunday mornings. Which means we have twice the Sunday School teachers, twice the ushers, twice the A/V crew, and twice the nursery caregivers as in previous years. And the need doesn’t lessen just because half the congregation is in Oceano.

This week demonstrated yet again that our church body isn’t full of consumers. On their own initiative, ushers from the first service realized we were shorthanded for the second service and stayed to serve. Others stayed to teach. I didn’t even realize it until someone mentioned how many people had unexpectedly stayed to serve when the need became apparent. What a blessing it is to serve in a church where the members themselves identify needs and step up without fanfare to sacrifice for the sake of others.

Why I’m Attending Southern Seminary

Last Sunday I was accepted into the School of Theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY. I visited the school last week and, after spending time in thought and prayer, I’ve decided to pursue my MDiv (Master of Divinity) degree at Southern. I’ve been deliberating between Southern and The Master’s Seminary for much of the last year, and while it wasn’t an easy decision, it was one marked by a clear sense of direction from the Lord.

I confess it is rather scary to leave the familiar environment of the Master’s community. Much of who I am in the Lord has been forged in the classroom and offices and dorm rooms of TMC. I will greatly miss the Master’s community. The Lord has blessed me far beyond what I ever could have hoped for in quantity and quality of friendships through my time at college. It is hard to leave what God has used to shape me into His image. I’ll also miss being able to visit my Cornerstone Community Church family. It’s a lot further of a drive from Louisville than Santa Clarita. In a very short time I’ve come to love you all very much. It has been a joy to serve the youth and I’m looking forward to the last couple of months of disc golf, Gleanings, and study of Philippians.

So why am I going to Southern?

1) I will get to study under an incredible group of professors. The faculty at Southern pretty much comprises a “Who’s Who” list of conservative scholarship. Russell Moore, Timothy Paul Jones, Bruce Ware, Tom Schriener, Stuart Scott, and the list goes on and on. Other seminaries use the books written by these men as textbooks for their classes. At Southern I will be able to study under the men who wrote the textbooks.

2) The leadership and professors love the local church. The classes I was able to sit in on were not set in ivory-tower academia, but rather the mud and mire of the realities of church ministry. Theological instruction for the sake of theological instruction will not help me better serve the bride of Christ.

3) I’m coming to realize the importance of being taught from a variety of perspectives. Not a variety of doctrinal perspectives, but rather a variety of emphases within those commonly held doctrines. To have undergraduate and graduate degrees from the same institution is not the end of the world, but it would leave me unbalanced in areas. The greatest strength of TMS is how it prepares men to preach the Word. That is my greatest strength in ministry as well. I want to go to a school that will challenge me in my weaknesses so that I will grow in my ability to minister before the Lord.

4) Southern has a culture of grace and appreciation towards men of different doctrinal perspectives who have accomplished great things for the Kingdom. This walks a fine and dangerous line. Russell Moore exemplified this attitude best in a theology class I sat in on about Eschatology. He said something akin to, “We’re to be dogmatic about the things Scripture is clear about and humble about the things it is not. We can learn much from the elderly dispensationalist-holding church members as they eagerly await the rapture. And they can learn much from us historic premillenialists as we prepare ourselves for suffering.’ That is an impressive attitude.

There’s other reasons why I’m going to attend Southern, but these are the most important. I’m thankful for the year off to recharge my academic batteries, and I’m excited to begin this new stage in my life.

Reflections on Media Fasting

And many of those who practiced magic brought their books together and began burning them in the sight of everyone; and they counted up the price of them and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver. So the word of the Lord was growing mightily and prevailing. (Acts 19:19-20)

One troubling thing I see in my heart is that I love conviction and hate change. It’s not to hard to find a convicting sermon to listen to. But when all the words have flowed past me and it’s time to walk out the doors of the church, it’s tantalizingly easy to believe the lie that my feeling of conviction is true holiness and unqualifyingly pleasing to the Lord.

We’ve been moving through Acts at Cornerstone, and travelled through chapter 19 a couple of weeks ago. It’s most famous for a bunch of cocky itinerant Jewish exorcists getting the smack-down put on them by a demon and a mindless riot in which people wind up chanting “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians” for two solid hours without knowing why. But the centerpoint of this passage is the dramatic conversion of many of Ephesus’ practitioners of black magic. They burned the bridges to their former life by destroying everything they owned that was associated with the occult. From this, my pastor asked a question of our congregation: “What bridges do you need to burn in your own life?”

Now, there isn’t a direct connection between what the new Ephesian believers did and what most of us in the congregation needed to do. The Ephesians were involved in a profession that was completely incompatible with their newfound love for the Lord. You cannot practice Satanic arts and love God.

Some bridges need to be burnt. There can be no going back now that the new nature has taken hold of my heart. Other pathways only need to be forsaken every once in a while, so as to prevent them from becoming too important. If our happiness or our growth in the Lord has become dependent upon those things, their path has become overgrown and needs a good slash-burning to clear away the deadwood.

Immediately “espn.com” flashed into my mind. I didn’t try to think of anything. The knowledge that it had become a hinderance was just there. I love sports, and the NFL playoffs are an provide an endless smorgasbord of opinion articles to read and videos to watch. The next thought after the minute answer of espn.com was a quick denial of “That’s not true, Nate. It’s not an idol and it’s not something you need to get rid of.” The first thought is divinely-sent Spirit-produced conviction. Before I could think, before I could try to hide behind my invented complex reasonings to justify how much of my time away from work was spent reading transitory, fleeting opinions about things that don’t even really matter, the Spirit struck. And that was immediately followed by a self-protecting reflex that would try to justify whatever pattern I was living.

But understanding the problem isn’t enough. And imagined change isn’t holiness. That’s like joining the “1,000,000 strong against abortion” Facebook group and calling yourself a pro-life activist. As we talked about the sermon and “burning bridges” at my Community Group that night, we discovered that everyone’s overgrown pathway was media-related. And then we resurrected an assignment I had at TMC–a total fast from media for a week. No television, no movies, no internet apart from work-related emailing/research, no music, no recorded sermons.

It’s so ingrained in me by habit to wake up, turn on my computer, and check Gmail and Google Reader that I had to stick a note on top of my computer to remind myself of the fast. Instead I’d pick up my Bible and read or just sit and think. And that’s the purpose of doing a media fast. Silence and stillness were the rule of life for the first 6,000 years of human existence. Laborers in the fields worked without iPods, with only their own thoughts and the sounds of nature to keep them company. Pastors studied in absolute quiet as they wrote out their sermons without the aid of a movie score in the background. The Lord works in stillness. He brings clarity through quiet. And in the constant business and noise of media-driven life, it’s hard to hear what He’s saying.

All of us were surprised by what we learned by media fasting. I was surprised to discover how much more I can actually do that I thought I could. It is amazing what the mind can still absorb, even when it’s tired. Redeeming the time means redeeming all the time, even that tired hour before bed. And the funny thing is, I was a lot happier working harder longer than when I formerly grasped the easy entertainment offered to me.

It’s one thing to fast from media for a week, it’s another to work to keep the path clear of debris that naturally wants to build up. Media isn’t a bridge to be burned, it’s an enjoyable footpath that needs tending. Just like stopping at conviction instead of following through to change, it’s easy to modify my behavior without ever touching the heart. I feel like I should make some insightful point here about what rules and limits I’ve put on myself to make sure I don’t slide back again. I don’t have one, because I don’t have any rules and limits. Instead, I’m going to assume that the Holy Spirit and my love for the Lord is enough to keep things in balance. Some bridges need to be burned permanently. But others, others just need a little watchful tending.

Disc Golf as Ministry

One of the joys of my current position in ministry is that I get to go disc golfing (“frisbee golfing” to the terribly unsophisticated) with members of the youth group two or three times a week. I was first introduced to the sport about eight years ago through some members of my church. I would play every couple weeks in high school, the time pressures of college and dorm ministry relegated my faithful JK Champion Valkyrie driver to the furthest reaches of my closet.

During the last few months, frisbee golf has become the main point of contact between me and the members of the youth group outside of our church setting.

Disc golf is played much like “normal” golf, except by throwing frisbees instead of hitting golf balls. Specialty discs are made for frisbee golf, with thicker rims and heavier plastics to increase distance and resistance to wind. There’s a tee box that you throw off of, and a basket that you must throw your disc into (picture below). Professional players can consistently throw discs in excess of 500 feet. We’re not exactly professionals on the Cornerstone Youth Group Disc Golf Circuit. It has been a challenge to transition out of a discipleship-heavy, relationship-driven ministry as an RA at TMC to a position that is driven by teaching and finds me spending long hours behind a desk in a solitary office. And yet, I cannot believe that teaching and relationships cannot be blended together in a church environment. Which, is probably a better situation because the people doing the teaching are also doing the discipleship. My pastor’s sermons mean more because I see the life he lives in the words he speaks. It certainly is harder to get to know people when you don’t live next door to them, but difficulty isn’t supposed to stop the growth of the kingdom of God.

The more of a friend I become to the youth, the more they will hear what I have to teach on Wednesday nights. We rarely talk about anything spiritually-oriented during our disc golf games. There’s far more taunting over bad shots and laughter over the bizarre characters we meet and talk of music and Boy Scouts and pranks I pulled at Masters than anything. And that’s a beautiful thing. Because as we laugh at how the Grim Weeper tree on hole 10 ate my drive, I know that there’s more going on than just a frustrating disc golf shot. It isn’t a waste of my time to disc golf instead of write or read. Because the gospel exists inside of life, and is meant to be experienced in everything under the sun.

1 Thessalonians 2:8 says, “Having so fond an affection for you, we were well-pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become very dear to us.” That really is the impetus for interpersonal ministry. It’s about the gospel and life, because the gospel is not a stagnant, intellectual belief but a controlling manner of life. Life and words serve to feed off of one another to increase the power of both. The more I see how those who teach me live, the more I pay attention to what they have to say. And the more I hear what they have to say, the more I’m confronted with who I ought to be.

The Severest Grace that Ever Was

Over the last three months, I’ve been working with a local artist to put the story of Christmas into an illustrated poetry book format. I’m excited to share the finished product with you here. May Christ be exalted and magnified for His birth, for His death, for His resurrection, and His coming renewal of all things.

Part One: The Town

Anticipation was the rule
In Nazareth for soon a jewel
A favored daughter would be wed
To Him whose ancestry thread
Wove round amongst the kings of old
The righteous Joseph, ever bold
To do the right and shun the wrong
Though poor, his moral compass strong
“A perfect pair” the women said
As wizened husbands nodded heads.

But soon the happiness was cast
Aside before the stormy blast
Of presumed infidelity
And then to cover up her free
And loosened living she would claim
Some wild tale that God became
A child. And stranger still that he
Condemned to live in cuckoldry
Would stand beside his fiancée
Expecting all of us to play
The fool with him. So mock and scorn
Them and the child to be born.

And so the favored couple went
From being loved to being bent
Upon the anvil of the town
Their reputations trampled down
Before all except the Lord.

Part Two: The King

Far
Away from Nazareth a jar
Containing royal scrolls was passed
From hand to hand until at last
The census words were handed down
To every city, village, town.
For Caesar hoped to know how great
His empire had become. Not late
Or early was his heart bestirred
For God would keep His holy Word
And overrule the heart of one
So powerful to move His Son
To Bethlehem where prophecy
Foretold the Child’s infancy
And so it was no accident
When Mary, Joseph rose and went
From all they’d ever seen and known
To Joseph’s old ancestral home

Behold the rising tide of cost
That Jesus had already tossed
Upon the tranquil lives of them
Whose faith compels their love for Him.
For comfort in this life was not
To be his parent’s earthly lot.

Part Three: The Wife

The Magi’s wife stared through the sand
That choked the empty road and planned
For yet another lonely meal
That night. Far away in Israel
Or somewhere in between he must
Under the ever-swirling dust
Be coming home. For two long years
Her ritual had been-with tears-
To gaze across the parting way
And then to pause and kneel and pray
To Daniel’s God. Within his book
Of prophecy were truths that took
Their hearts away from blocks of stone
And gave them to the King enthroned
On high. And as she prayed and poured
Her loneliness out to the LORD
A weary figure turned upon
The lane.

Her eyes shone like the dawn
But his were not as she recalled.
They spoke of joy and grief, appalled
By Herod’s great atrocity
But with the sight that Christ would be
Far great enough to take and splice
Eternal joy from sin and vice.
He held her close and told her of
The King who’d left His throne above,
Of angels, and of shepherds’ fright
Turned into faith by such a sight,
And of his own much longer quest
Through desert sands and mountain crests
To see the child.

The Magi turned
And softly asked: “One question’s burned
A path inside my heart and mind
These last two lonely years. I find
No room in my affections for
Doubt that what I’ve done is good
If forced to choose again I would
Still make that trip. Would you as well
Still choose to be alone and sell
Two years for me to see the Christ?
It is an awful, bitter price
For you to pay without reward.”

She smiled back: “You have adored
And worshipped God by traveling
With joy-filled heart to go and bring
Your gift to Him. But you mistake
To think that all He’s done is take
From me. Though God may part me from
The one I love its always done
for good.

And I would never trade
My closer sight of Him, though paid
in lengthy trials and distress.
I want, I want the Father’s best.”

Part Four: The Heart

We celebrate our Savior’s birth
Incarnate Deity on earth.
And Christ would later say He came
To save mankind and to proclaim
His love. But love that’s for our best!
The kind that shows us Him in tests.
When Christ would occupy a life
He causes peace and causes strife
For we would underestimate
The depths of our own sinful state
And so would cry when He brings pain
To purge the hidden faults that stain
The joy of the elect in Christ
For trials are His sweet device
To part us from our tiny view
Of Him to see His mercies new
And grander than before.

For years
Will pass to dry bewildered tears
And grace cries out within the gall
“Our joy in Christ is worth it all.”
For Christ remains in all He does
The severest grace that ever was.

Text: Copyright (c), Nate Brooks 2009

Illustrations: Copyright (c), Matthew Covington 2009

Thankful

I was playing frisbee golf with a few of our youth group members yesterday when I asked them a question: “What are you thankful for?” We as a culture (which means me as an individual) usually relegate thankfulness as something that only needs to be pondered on the fourth Thursday of every November. But it would seem that our utter inability to merit even life and breath would cause us to be overwhelmingly thankful. When life itself is a gift, how could I take anything for granted?

We as people are happiest when we are the most thankful, for thankfulness overwhelming selfishness is a clear testimony of the grace of God. It isn’t natural to be thankful. It isn’t normal to bow before God and confess helplessness and gratitude for and trust in His life-giving nature.

I’ve yet to see myself intentionally slide from the mountain top of thankfulness to the obscuring valley of selfish ingratitude. Rather, I wake up to realize that I no longer have the joy of an uncluttered view of who God is and what He has done for me. And I’m shocked by it. It’s as though I start walking down the path from the mountain top to the valley, feeling like I haven’t lost anything because I can still remember what the view from the peak looks like. And I’m not worried because, although I can’t actually see the landscape of grace, I can still picture what it looks like. Can still conjure up the awe that it evokes.

But then as time goes by and as I get further and further from the peak I can no longer remember what I need to remember. I can no longer feel what I know I need to feel. It saddens me most that I take most for granted the things that I love the most, starting with my Savior.

I don’t think that the ultimate solution is what I’m about to do. I don’t think that merely listing out things I’m thankful for is enough to keep me from becoming thankless. The heart is more deceptive than that. I need the sustaining grace of God. But I do know that usually I become thankless when I simply neglect being thankful. I want to be diligent in giving thanks. It’s really hard to pull your gaze away from something you’re thankful for.

Here are some things I’m thankful for, in no particular order or importance. And this list is in no way shape or form comprehensive!:

1) The Intentional Fellowship of Christians. I’m thankful for the people in my life who practice and talk about the “one anothers.” People who love and understand the value of authentic, heart-and-gospel-oriented conversation and actions. Much endurance comes from having such relationships.

2) Brent and Laura. I’m thankful for the way they have opened their home up to me. I’m thankful for the lessons I’m learning about what family life is really like from a parent’s perspective. They challenge me in diligence, drive, and purpose.

3) John Marc. I’m thankful for being able to learn what it means to be a faithful minister of the Word of God. He’s taught me much about the realities of ministry. It’s not flashy, it’s not hype-driven. It’s about faithfulness and confidence in the Holy Spirit. He’s taught me much about loving people for the sake of their gain in Christ. His reward in heaven is going to be very great.

4) Stars. I’m in an area where I can see stars again. It was funny taking astronomy in Los Angeles. Looking up at the night sky has a way of bringing perspective. To think that God created all of that, and billions of galaxies that I cannot see with the naked eye! It breaths out the awesomeness of God and the insignificance of man. And yet, that only reinforces the joy of His personal love for me.

5) Cornerstone Youth Group. I appreciate the youthfulness of the youth. I appreciate their eagerness and excitement in life, their drive to get maximum enjoyment out of everything. And I’m thankful for their thoughtfulness in youth group. They ask good questions, ponder important things. I’m thankful that they keep coming to hear the Word, over and above excitement.

6) My Mom, Dad, and Brother. I’m excited to go home for Christmas. There’s no reservations, no worry that it might be a stressful time, no fears that conflict might rip us apart. I know that’s not the case for the majority of people. So I don’t want to take for granted the joy of having a tight-knit, like-minded, Christ-loving family. My parents are wise, and my brother is one of my best friends. What more could you ask for?

7) Good music. I’m thankful for music that makes much of God like Shawn McDonald, Caedemon’s Call, David Crowder Band, Casting Crowns, Phil Wickham, Jeremy Camp. I’m thankful for music that is relaxing and helps me study like Sigur Ros, Secret Garden, Ulrich Schnauss. I’m thankful for music that is fun and thought-provoking like Switchfoot, Hillsong United, Matisyahu, Andy Hunter. And I’m thankful for all the countless hymnwriters who used their gifts to create music that has lasted for decades because of the truth that rings forth from their work. I’m especially thankful for the men and women who wrote Jesus Paid It All, Rock of Ages Cleft for Me, Amazing Grace, Great is Thy Faithfulness, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, God Moves in a Mysterious Way, Whate’er My God Ordains is Right, In Christ Alone, The Power of the Cross, How Deep the Father’s Love for Us, And Can It Be, It Is Well, and Hallelujah! What a Savior.

8 ) Doctrinal Words. Especially words that we don’t talk about much in ordinary conversation like regeneration and sustaining grace. They are rich words, containing so much about God and so much about man. I would be lost without God, and doctrinal words help me explore the nuances of who God is more deeply.

9) Blogging. It forces me to think through things more deeply. Clarity often comes through writing, and things I’ve thought have often proven to be untenable once I’m forced to form an argument for it.

10) Facebook. I’m thankful that Facebook lets me keep in touch with a much wider group of friends than I would be able to otherwise.