on wisdom.

Every Thursday night for the last few years I have been helping out with a jr high group study that my church puts on called Switch. As a result, when it's my time to teach I will be spending the majority of my writing efforts focusing on those lessons rather than my usual blog posts. The following teaching ourlines are based on a study of The Story Teen Edition. Here is the first of those outlines that I will be posting. Enjoy!

The Story Teen Edition Chapter 13

What is wisdom? What’s the difference between being wise and being smart?

Where does wisdom come from?

Why do we want to be wise?

How do we become wise?

Wisdom in the context of the life of Solomon:

                After David’s death, Solomon took the throne as King. (The Story Teen Edition pages 176-177) One night, in a dream, God appeared to Solomon and told him to ask for whatever he wanted. Solomon approached God humbly, referring  repeatedly to himself as “your servant”. He admitted to being young and inexperienced. He asked God to give him a “discerning heart” to be able to rightly judge and lead God’s people well.

What is wisdom? Wisdom is a humble, discerning, and understanding heart that is able to distinguish between right and wrong.

                God granted Solomon’s request and, being happy with him for not asking for honor or riches, also granted him those very things, giving him wealth, wisdom, honor, and longevity.

Where does wisdom come from? Wisdom comes from God, the source of our morality and the only discerning force between right and wrong.

                Peace came over God’s people and they prospered under Solomon’s guidance. Because of the peace Israel was now experiencing Solomon was able to focus things other than the protection of their borders. He accomplished much by way of diplomacy and construction. Most notably, the Temple construction was started and completed during  Solomon’s reign. Because of the incredible wisdom God had given to Solomon his people thrived and his ruling over and guiding of them was just and pleasing to God.

Why do we want to be wise? Wisdom is what guides us in the way of the Lord. Solomon’s prosperous reign was due to his righteous living as a result of the wisdom God gave him. Wisdom is what brings us closer to God and shows us how to live our lives in a way that brings us closer to Him, and is pleasing to Him.

                (The Story page 191) People came from all over to seek out God’s wisdom, and the answers Solomon could give them. They brought with them massive treasures and huge amounts of precious materials to offer the King. It would seem that the wisdom God had given Solomon was invaluable to those who would seek it, and upon finding it, it led many to follow the way of the Lord. Over the course of his life Solomon would go on to write many famous saying that are today collected into the book of Proverbs.

How do we become wise? Wisdom comes from God and is made accessible to us,  particularly through two outlets:

Through God’s guidance directly and through others who may be wiser than us.

How does God guide us?

1)      God provided wisdom to Solomon directly. Do you believe he does the same for us? How?

a.       God’s word is an incredible source of wisdom that we have readily available and that we know to be living, active, and transformational in our lives (Hebrews 4:12-13). How do we access wisdom through God’s word? Read, study, memorize, collaborate with others on the same walk as you.

How does God use others in our lives?

2)      Speaking of collaboration, God also provides wisdom in our lives through other Christians.  How is this evident in the story of Solomon?

a.      Upon recognizing Solomon’s incredible wisdom, people came from far and wide to seek out his understanding. How can we follow this example?

What are some ways you have seen wisdom (your own or others) impact your life?

Take some time and pray for each other and your spiritual growth as it pertains to God and the wisdom he provides.

on scripture memorization.

       This is a topic I have recently become incredibly passionate about, and one that most churched Christians seem to be incredibly un-passionate about, myself included up until recently. The problem is that we see it as boring, laborious, time consuming, obligatory, and all in all just unnecessary.  The fact of the matter is, we just don't tend to see enough worth in it to put in the time and effort. Which is a shame.        This summer I set a goal for myself and the amount of scripture I would memorize. My original goal was to memorize all four chapters of Philippians by the time Sr. High camp rolled around. I failed. Sr. High camp showed up and I had barely completed the first chapter. I started thinking maybe I had overestimated myself, but I set a new goal anyway, this time giving myself a little more room to breathe. My new goal was this: have all four chapters of Philippians memorized in the NIV by the time I left for Spain at the end of the summer. And guess what? I failed. Again.
       That's right, even after I tripled the time I had originally given myself I still hadn't managed to accomplish my goal. Talk about frustration. And with nobody to blame but myself. Now I will admit that working at camp leaves very little free time for me to work on my own things, but I still found myself using the majority of my time on other things. My effort, however, was not wasted in the slightest. Yes, I failed to meet my goals, but I did memorize large portions of Philippians and in the process learned incredible things about Gods word.
       I didn't find myself getting bored memorizing, but rather hanging off of Paul's words as if he were speaking directly about my life. Memorizing is hard, I will admit, but the more I did it the more I didn't see it as work. It consumed my time but it replaced menial, unimportant, and sometimes even spiritually destructive tasks. The more the summer went on and the stress, both physically and spiritually, began to take its toll, the more I found that I not only wanted to be able to recall passages but needed to.
       As far as being obligatory, well I cant argue with that one. Anybody who has spent any significant amount of time reading the Bible can attest to the emphasis put on the need for studying and meditating on scripture. Examples of this are in Psalm 1:1-3, Psalm 119:11, Joshua 1:8, Deuteronomy 11:18, Colossians 3:16, Philippians 4:8 etc. Honestly I could go on for days like this. The point is, as Christians we are commanded to dedicate ourselves to learning and living out Gods word. But we all already know that were supposed to memorize verses, and I'm not here to beat that horse. Its been dead for a while. Instead I want to talk about the results of making the commitment to live out Psalm 119:11. The practical application. The real motivation for setting goals like this.
       The results, as it happens, are astounding. The more I memorized the more I seemed to find purpose in the tasks I completed and the relationships I built. I encountered a unique joy, a powerful comfort, and an unmatched wisdom. Paul's words in Philippians seemed to speak into every aspect of my life to the point where I'm almost certain those who worked with me grew tired of hearing "oh yeah that reminds me of this verse...". Being so constantly plugged into scripture changed the way I thought about myself, about others and about God. I felt the effects of Hebrews 4:12 quite literally as my thoughts and attitudes were picked to pieces and transformed bit by bit. Memorizing scripture literally rewires your brain, and as a result everything about you. Gods word changes everything. It permeates the dark corners of our lives, forcing us to come face to face with Him. It builds a conscious connection between Him and us. As is always the case with God, He is not pushing us to follow rules or check boxes. He is not a legalistic God. He is loving, and He is practical, so we can trust that there are some good reasons to step up to a task like this one. In this case, I believe He desires an intense dedication to scripture because it is our direct line to Him. Through it, and the Holy Spirit, we connect ourselves directly to the heart of God. He is the ultimate source of wisdom in our uncertainty, of joy in hardships, of endurance in our exhaustion, of comfort in our distress, and of guidance in our, well, everything. So why would we ever neglect that connection?

 Food for thought.

on christians and swear words.

Let's just take a minute and laugh at ourselves:




        Us christians have a lot of laughable habits. But one of the most rediculous tends to be our use of "Christian swear words". Our subtle attempts to fill in the lexical gaps created by our need to avoid swearing. Which raises the question, what's wrong with swearing in the first place? Is it sinful to utilize particular four letter words? If you grew up in the church and spent any significant amount of time in sunday school your instinctive response is probably something along the lines of "well Aaron, it's not the words that are bad, it's the intention of the person using the word".

That's fair. Kind of. But it's also a cop out. What is their intention? Odds are it's not rooted in sin. Maybe. Let me explain.

       I think most of us can agree that words are not inherently evil. There is nothing about an arrangement of letters in any particular order that is, in and of itself, sinful. I mean come on. It's a word. What's so bad about a stinking word? Nothing. It's just a word. Right?
       Well kind of. See the funny thing about language is that it is dictated, shaped, formed, and entirely determined by the people who use it, and culture has come together to (mostly) agree that some words are offensive. I'll post a video at the end of this blog with more on that. Some swear words are bad because they butcher otherwise wholesome ideas in ungodly ways, others due to their use to degrade people and ideas, and others for the same reason "irregardless" is a word and "I could care less" is a perfectly appropriate way to express an inability to possibly care any less: because we as english speaking people simply decided they are.
       So as Christians, how do we react to this knowledge? I know numerous Christians who swear like sailors, and I know numerous Christians who would readily rant for days on the sinful nature of certain vocabulary. Personally I can't agree with either extreme. I'm not particularly fond of swearing, but I also think condemning it based on simple assumptions made about a persons heart is a cheap way of enforcing legalistic behavior. Like on most issues, I find that most people (myself occasionally included) are missing the point. And the point is the gospel.

To those who would defend their right to swear all they want I have this to say:
       I believe stronger vocabulary can have a proper place in certin context. But how are you using your words to advance the gospel? Is your vocabulary drawing peolpe toward Christ and communicating the crucial truth of the gospel, or is it misrepresenting Him to those who watch you live out your faith on the daily? Be honest, and don't let your pride get the best of you.
                                   
To those who would condemn a more colorful vocabulary I have this to say:
       I believe there is a time and a place to call out fellow Christians on their misuse of the english language. But how are you using your words to advance the gospel? Is your condemnation coming from a place a judgment and legalism, or are you genuinly concerned with the way Christ is being represented by your brothers and sisters? Be honest, and don't let your pride get the best of you.                                                    
 
        The answers aren't as clear cut as you might think. I've personally been on all sides of these situations. I have, unfortunately, given negative impressions of what it means to be a Christian by using certain words and phrases, and I've called our friends of mine with unwholesome motives and a heart full of pride.
       But I've also had productive and healthy conversation with friends about legitimate concerns over how their faith is communicated through everyday conversation. And yes, believe it or not, I have used "swear words" in situations where I firmly believe it was not only beneficial but neccessary.
        It's a fine line, and there often isn't a clear cut answer. So here is how I believe we can find our solution:
       As with everything else, we should strive to live in a way that is both for sake of the gospel, and for the glory of our Lord. Let's take our focus off of being right or being offended and put it back on Christ.

And as promised, here is an interesting video for word nerds:

on Old Spice.

        A while back I read an article that discussed some of the ways scientists explain different aspects of the human brain. Deja vu, sleep cycles, addictions, thoughts, memories, etc. Events that we still struggle to understand. But one of the most interesting pieces of information I learned had to do with how our brain stores and recalls memories.
The article explained that when the brain processes information, different synapses are triggered and connections are temporarily made between them. When the same patterns are triggered, the more those connections are strengthened. As a result, the brain learns to recall certain memories and trigger certain synapses in response to things that have become familiar. It went on to say that of the many things that can bring back memories in this fashion, our sense of smell seems to be the strongest trigger. I was reminded of this the other day when I was in the shower.
See I have a body wash that I purchased this summer, just before heading off to camp. For three months I got accustomed to the smell of it as I worked at Maranatha. Every day bofore I went to the coffee shop, before I went to chapel with my cabin, before I stared at the water all day, or even before I did dishes, I would use it. At the end of that three months I took off to Spain leaving my big bottle of Old Spice behind. But then I came back.
Now I know it sounds weird, but bear with me here. That body wash holds a lot of memories. So much so that first time I showered upon returning to my home, I was dumbstruck by the flood of memories. I cracked open the bottle, lathered up, and just stood there like an idiot. Seriously. That smell (which granted, is pretty strong) brought such a flood of old memories rushing back that I didn't know what to do. All the sudden I was back at camp. I was tired, I was in a hurry, I needed caffeine, I wondered where my friends where, I wondered what my campers were doing, and I swear I even smelled the faint stench of mucky old lake water running down from my hair.
It was intense, and fascinating. The idea that our brains can produce such an incredible recollection from something as simple as the way my soap smells is amazing to me. But even more amazing was the sudden sense of urgency I felt. I had been transported to a time and a place where I knew I was doing what I had been called to do. I was accomplishing great things, I was impacting lives, and yes, even saved a kid from drowning one time. It was productive. It was meaningful. And I wanted to bolt straight out of the shower right back there to where I knew God's work was being done. I wanted to get out and go do something, go invest in lives, and go make a difference.

But don't worry, I know what you're thinking.

I put clothes on first.

on racism, justice, and the terrible way we handle controversy.

My blog post for this week was originally going to be about soap, but I've decided to save that one for another week. Instead I want to talk about something much more controversial. So hold on just a moment while I get out my soap box.

Alright here we go. I want to talk about the shooting of Michael Brown. Rather than give my opinion on the case however, I'd like to give my opinion on opinions, because I've got some serious beef with the way people approach these types of incidents in the news, in casual conversation, and on social media. Everyone has something to say about it. It's how we say it that really irks me.

You see my problem is that we're so busy trying to be right that we don't ever take time to be human. I am so sick and tired of hearing cries of racism or little comments like "well he had it coming, just look what he did". I don't care what your opinion of the incident is. For God's sake, can we just get a little sympathy? And I mean that how i said it. For God's sake. As in, if we claim to be followers of Christ, can we represent Him in a way that is true to His nature? Can we take two seconds to realize that regardless of the circumstances, regardless of why and regardless of how, a person died. A human was killed. Lecrae said it well in a recent facebook post:

"If I tell you my brother got killed in a gang war, would you tell me 'That's what he gets! Shouldn't be gang bangin!' Of course not. As a Christian I see Jesus empathize with the MOST undeserving people ever. He offers a thief on the cross a home in Paradise. He dies for a rioting mob of angry killers. He looks upon a sinful world with compassion. And here we stand saying we believe that and all the while unfazed at the pain of a community".

I'm not saying the officer wasn't justified in what he did. I'm also not saying he was. That's not for me to decide. I know very little of what happened, and what I do know has been filtered through the bias of others who also know little of what really happened. It is, however, painfully apparent that among the arguing, the rioting, the hate, the racism, the defending and offending, there seems to be no love. No sympathy. No caring. Especially from those of us so far removed from the situation that we can post about it on facebook, and move on, never stopping to really dedicate anything other than passive outrage toward what goes on outside our own lives.
Now let me stop for a moment and be clear about what I am not saying. I am not saying it is a useless conversation. I am not saying we should ignore it. I am not saying that we should bury our heads in the sand and just let what happens happen. But that's not what this discussion is about.

So instead I have a proposition.

I propose we all set down our torches and pitchforks. Lets stop arguing over social media, stop pretending we have all the facts, and stop pretending we have the right to condemn either party from the far off points of view that the majority of us stand from. Let's spend a little less time debating over social media and a little more time praying for those who were and still are impacted by this tragedy.

Let's just love a little. For God's sake.

on hitchhiking.

        I have a hard time explaining why I wanted to hitchhike. People are always asking me and the best I can do is give them the simple reasons. It's free. I like meeting people. I like traveling. I like not having a job. And that's all true, but there is more to it than that.
I had a conversation several years back with a friend of mine about how American culture seems to lack a "coming of age" recognition or transition. Many cultures have strange or dangerous rituals, big events or some equivalent landmark period in a persons life that marks the end of childhood and the start of the rest of their lives. In America we finish high school, move on to college, get married, get a job, have a family, and at some point look back and realize that life happened to us. We might point to high school graduation and say "that's what made me an adult". Or perhaps we'll let the government tell we're all grown up when we turn 18. But where is the struggle? Where is the maturity? Where is the risk and danger? At what point were we really forced to grow up in order to move on in life?
And that is the real reason I do what I do. Yes I like to travel, yes I like to meet people, and yes, I really like not having a job. But the real reward is in being forced to deal with life. It's about learning that life is hard. It's about finding a little perspective in the difficult moments and then moving past them. It's about growing up. The times when you have no choice but to deal with life. When you go to a different country, its 1:00 in the morning, all public transport is shut down for the night, you are over 30 miles from your house and you have no choice but to stick out your thumb and hope for the best. And yes that actually happened to me and it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

But anywho, without further adieu, here's my recent hitchhiking experience from beginning to end.

My initial plan was to make my way from Lincoln, Nebraska, south to Texas, West to the Grand Canyon, then back North to the windy state of Wyoming that I call home. On Thursday November 13th I had a friend of mine drop me of on the side of Hwy 77 in the cold wind and stuck my thumb out towards on coming traffic.
After about an hour on the side of that highway a middle aged man from Minnesota named Ralph (at the time he told me his name was Jim) pulled over and told me to thrown my bag in the back of his pickup. I obliged and quickly climbed into the cabin, eagerly pressing my frozen hands against the vents in an attempt to thaw them out. We chatted off and on for a couple hours and eventually arrived in Manhattan, Kansas where he dropped me off at a shopping mall and wished me the best. I thanked him once more for helping me out and ventured into the mall to find a T-mobile store and get myself a new phone. It was there that I had my first negative experience as a hitchhiker.
While wandering around the mall searching for the T-Mobile store, I was confronted by a mall cop. I say "confronted" but there was actually very little confrontation. I noticed him staring at me as I walked past so I gave him a small wave. His response was to continue staring and sternly say

"Just passing through, right?"

I put a question mark there, but he wasn't really asking. Obviously I was a little taken back so I stopped and gave him a confused look.

"I'm sorry?" I asked

"You're just passing through, right?" He responded, a tad more sternly this time.

"Yes sir, eventually" I said, then continued walking still not understanding what his problem with me was.

Upon finding the T-Mobile store, which turned out to be a T-Mobile kiosk, I sat my bag down and waited for the man working there to be available. After a few minutes he walked over and asked what I needed. I explained that my phone had broken and I was looking to replace it with the cheapest one he could sell me on the spot. His response, and this is verbatim, was this:

"Well I'm not going to have anything here within your budget"

What? Are you kidding me? I hadn't even had a chance to tell him what my budget was! Thoroughly irritated, I simply pointed to a phone that I had already identified as the cheapest one on display and told him to give me that one. He did, and within five minutes I was up and running on a brand new phone. I thanked him and walked down to the food court. On my way there I encountered none other but the grumpy old mall cop. Not only had he been following me, but he was making absolutely no effort to hide it! Seriously! So in a small act of protest I took a seat in the food court and stayed there until the mall closed an hour later.
From the mall I walked out to the highway and made my way to the nearest bridge. I clambered up the sloped edge near the sidewalk and set up for the night on the flat part at the top. At this point the temperature was well below freezing, but I was nice and comfortable in my sleeping bag, which was rated down to 10 degrees. Unfortunately after sleeping for about 4 hours, the temperature dropped below 10 degrees and I woke up shivering. Remembering that there was a 24 hour Denny's down the street, I picked up my things and headed that way.
Walking into Denny's, I was greeted by a very tired-looking server who asked me what she could do for me. I explained to her that I had no money and just needed a place to warm up. She understood and invited me to come in and sit. She even gave me a hot chocolate free of charge. At some point I dozed off and about an hour later that same server woke me up and informed me that "this isn't a hotel" and it was time for me to leave. I picked up my things and headed back out on the road.
The cold weather had made me second guess the duration of my trip, and so I made the decision to turn west towards Colorado. Using my phone for a map, I determined the direction I needed to go and hopped from gas station to gas station in an attempt to keep warm. Eventually I found myself on the edge of the highway once more. Along the way I had picked up a small piece of cardboard to make a sign in hopes that a little message might reduce the number of people yelling at me and giving me not so friendly hand gestures. Here is what I came up with:

So with my new sign and a whole day ahead of me I stuck my thumb out once more, but to no avail. After almost an hour and a half of no success, a police car finally pulled up near me and two officers got out. As I waited for them to approach me I thought to myself, this is just perfect. Now these two are gonna waste my time harassing me for something that is perfectly legal, and keep me from getting any of the rides that I so desperately needed. Instead the two officers asked me what I was doing on the side of the road. The conversation went something like this:

"Is there a problem officers?" I asked as they approached.

"What are you doin out here son?"

"I'm hitchhiking" I said, trying to keep the attitude out of my voice.

"Where you headed?" One of them asked pulling out a notepad.

"Colorado Springs eventually"

"You mind if I get your name and date of birth?" The officer asked

"Yeah sure" I said, and gave her the info. She talked into her radio for a minute then asked me if I had eaten today. I told her I hadn't and the two officers glanced at each other then turned back to me.

"Looks like it's your lucky day. We just got back from the park where we saw a guy sleeping under a tarp last night, but this morning he was gone so it looks like you're gonna get a free breakfast. Heck I'll even give you a ride out to the interstate, you're not gonna get anywhere standing here".

I had no words. The officer walked back to her car, pulled our a McDonalds back and a big steaming cup of coffee and handed them to me then helped me load my bag into the back seat and we set off. The next 15 miles were traveled in silence as I furiously scarfed down my breakfast and sipped on the coffee, grateful for the caffeine.
When we arrived at the interstate I got back out of the car, set my bag near the side of the road and thanked the officer once more. She wished me luck, told me to be safe, and then drove off, leaving me to my business. Needless to say I was in a great mood by this time, and the friendly waves and laughs of the passengers who drove by and read my sign were enough to keep me in that mood.
Roughly an hour later another police officer pulled up next to me. This time I was much less irritated with the delay and greeted him with a friendly "good morning officer" as he walked up. He politely asked me where I was headed and if he could see my ID. I gave it to him and explained my travels to him. While we were talking, a woman in a small tan Audi pulled up next to us and walked over. The officer, who was about to offer me a ride to the next town over, informed the woman that I wasn't wanted for anything and that we should both be safe. He then drove off and left us to talk.
The woman, who told me her name was Martha, asked me where I was headed. I explained that my end goal was Colorado Springs, but that I know it was an 7 hour drive to get there so I was just trying to get as far West as she could take me. Martha then informed me that she was headed home, to Colorado Springs, and would be happy to let me tag along. Seven hours and many conversations later I found myself standing on my Dad's front doorstep, waving goodbye to a new friend.
Call me crazy or call me dumb (you wouldn't be the only one) but that day and a half of traveling and living off others kindness is an experience of infinite value to me. Although I only accepted three rides in a day and a half, I met numerous kind hearted people whose only concern was for my safety. It was encouraging and refreshing, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Provided the weather warms up at least...

on rediscovering the familiar.

       I believe everybody has questions. It's a topic I've discussed numerous times before, but we all have things we wish we understood better. And more often than not our questions are very similar, if not the same. This is why one of the most important things we can do for each other is to create environments in which these questions can be explored.

Maranatha Bible Camp is one such environment. During one of their summer camps for junior high kids they create one of the most useful tools I have ever seen. It's been named "sync" and its a time when campers are allowed to anonymously submit questions that will be answered by a group of three men and three women. I was skeptical the first time I saw it in action, but that skepticism faded very quickly. Questions are submitted that you would never have thought a junior high kid was capable of coming up with. It's an amazing experience and I love it with all my heart.

But if we're being honest, one of the big reasons I love it so much is that it's even been very useful for me. In fact I dare say it is for everybody. Initially I went in planning to sit and listen while my campers had their questions answered. By the end I could be seen furiously scribbling in my notebook as I attempted to keep up with the words of the six people on stage. The questions submitted are from campers who want serious, truthful answers that are not watered down or simplified. And that's what they get. They are met on a theological level with replies that are serious, mature, and truthful. They are never treated as if they couldn't possibly understand and they are not given the simple story-book versions of what the bible says. It's refreshing.

For the most part the scribblings in my notebook reflect topics that I can use later to start conversations with my kids, or a different perspective on something that I had already been talking to them about. But this last year I had a "wow" moment. It's one of those times when a truth just hit me out of the blue, answering a question that I have had for years. Honestly I didn't even know I had the question, if it can even be called that. In fact my "wow" moment was entirely unrelated to what the person speaking was even talking about. It came as a result of a small, offhand comment that he made. In talking about why bad things happen and why this world seems to be devastatingly destructive and evil, he was addressing our inability to take control of a situation. His comment, which I am heavily paraphrasing, was something like this:

      "We are incapable of doing it alone because we are only here, and we are only now. We are trapped within our circumstances. God is not. He created here and he created now, but he is not trapped in the here or the now he just..........is. And we can rest in the God who simply is."

The story of Moses is one that I have heard many times over, and it is not one that I have ever failed to understand. But God's words at the burning bush have never struck me as awe inspiring. "I Am" is a factually significant name. A theologically useful definition of God, and that's how I have always thought of it. But in hearing the speaker's words in Sync that day, something just brought me right back to that story. There was no sudden understanding, or an earth shattering epiphany. I simply was struck by the beauty of those words, for the first time, and the statement that God is making to moses when He says "I Am":

 "We can rest in the God who simply is".

Wow.