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"Asceticism and simplicity are mutually incompatible....  Asceticism renounces possessions.  Simplicity sets possessions in proper perspective....  Asceticism finds contentment only when it is abased.  Simplicity knows contentment in both abasement and abounding (Phil. 4:2)."
                                                                             - Richard Foster, 'Celebration of Discipline'


I was reading about the discipline of simplicity this morning, and as the above quote states, reading that asceticism and simplicity are not the same thing.  Simplicity is not being tied to material possessions.  Asceticism is a renunciation of all possessions.  I find that difference interesting and at the same time rather illuminating when I think about the Kingdom of God and about our lives here on this earth (and indeed the eternal life that is coming).

Many people believe that to possess anything like earthly wealth is to be far from God or to have an idol above Him.  But I certainly know people who are very blessed financially and have been extremely faithful to use their money as God directs (I would love to bless them here by naming them, but knowing them I don't actually think that they would care for that).  They haven't hoarded it or pursued the amassing of it as their primary goal.  They have simply followed the Lord and found themselves in possession of employment (usually) that comes with a generous salary.  And they have made the conscious choice to hold that money (and also whatever non-monetary possessions they have) loosely, in case the Lord has need of it for something.  To tell you the truth, it's beautiful to see in action.

If we think asceticism is the key to the Kingdom, how will we ever accept all of God's blessings in this life and especially the next?  How will we manage to deal with the land that flows with milk and honey?  How will we learn to live the promised abundant life?  Not that the abundant life is about money, but it is about receiving rich blessings of all kinds from God.  It's an interesting thought.  And added to that thought, if we reject any financial blessing that the Lord wants to bestow upon us, what are the chances that we actually hinder the work of the Kingdom?  What if God wants to shower us with blessings so that we can provide for others who are less fortunate in some way?  What a thing to have missed out on simply because we lack a deeper biblical understanding of wealth.

Wealth is not evil.  The Bible does not say, "Money is the root of all kinds of evil."  It says, "Love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. (1 Tim. 6:10)"  Asceticism says the former.  Simplicity says the latter, and that, to my mind, is far more biblical than just believing that to have money is to be counter-Christian. 

Interestingly, it would make sense that this train of thought for me would have me thinking along the lines of possessions and where my heart sits in relation to what I physically have in this world.  Rather, it sets my mind along the path of doctrine and gives me a desire to challenge what we believe when it seems to come more from a partial understanding of scripture instead of a deep understanding and study of the Word.  Even in the parable of the rich young ruler (Matt. 19), Jesus was not telling the young man that his wealth would keep him from the Kingdom of God, but rather that his attachment to his wealth would do so. 

I think it imperative that in our belief system we must be careful not to 'throw out the baby with the bath water.'  We must know the scriptures, and not just what they say but what they mean.  (Which, incidentally, makes an incredibly strong argument for the discipline of study.)  When you think of a particular piece of our beliefs as Christians, have you ever stopped to think, "Where does that come from in the Bible?"  Critical thinking, even in regards to doctrine, is not heresy.  It is wisdom.  It guards us from those often slight changes that warp our thinking and give even subtle fallacies the opportunity to take root.  

The conclusion from my thoughts about asceticism and simplicity?  It, too, is quite simple:  Know the Word.  Be steeped in it.  Recognize where our day-to-day thinking, whether in regards to doctrine or simply our social and cultural standards, deviate from the teachings of Christ and take action to rectify them.  Only then will we be truly living the life of Christ-followers.

For those hopeful Douglas Adams' fans, reading this post because of its title, no I am not posting a blog about the number 42 (which is, for those not familiar with it, a reference to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy).  Sorry for the false advertising.  I do wish the answer to all of life's questions and problems were as simple (though hopefully slightly less nonsensical) as the number 42.  Alas, it is not the case.

As I continue to walk through this life and attempt to eradicate old hang-ups and broken perceptions of who I am and who I am expected to be, I find that God - if I listen - is constantly reminding me of the truth in these matters rather than the false ideas and perceptions upon which I have unfortunately based much of my understanding of life. 

Today, in my reading through of Romans in The Message, I read this:


I have read that periodically changing the translation of the Bible that you read can help to enhance your worship experience.  This has proved true to me for many years, and I often 'change things up.'  Recently I decided to read The Message - a translation into 'modern' English from the original language that has in the past given me minor pause regarding the The New Testament, mostly on account of my preferring a different translation.  However, I have found that going through Romans in The Message has been eye-opening. Many times I have gone back to my New American Standard to find out what verse it actually was that I just read, since I couldn't immediately think of the more familiar version.  The result has been fascinating, and has included a fresh understanding of our basic theology of grace.

Grace is a concept that has always eluded me.  I understand it as a concept, intellectually and through faith I accept it, I find it relatively easy to extend grace to others, but when it comes to living life day to day within God's grace, I think I tend to fail miserably.  Instead, my tendency is to view God the same way I brokenly view people - as needing to be pleased and to have my acceptance and love - and grace - earned.  

The verse above poignantly answers my regular query of how to understand myself and how to live this life well.  The answer to understanding who I am is to understand better who God is.  This, to me, feels far more reasonable an undertaking.  Perhaps understanding God in actuality is more complex than understanding myself, but in my mind it seems a more concrete goal with a generally acknowledged formulae for its accomplishment.  Prayer.  Study.

Time.

Time with God.  Focus on God.  These things are the prescribed way not only to understanding Him but also to understanding myself and to understanding life.  The only way to do so.  Which, in fact, makes great logical sense to me as God's knowledge of me is so far superior to my own. So, teach me, Lord.  Both about who You are and, in consequence, who I really am.

Personally, I think that seems a much better answer to the question of life, the universe and everything than Douglas Adams' 42.

I've been thinking this morning about the movement of the Holy Spirit.  Most especially that part of it that is so attractive to us that we desire to chase it - Him - more and more.  But I find that as humans, we (and by "we", I definitely mean "I") have a tendency to need something a bit more concrete to chase.  Chasing a spirit is, well, hard work, quite frankly.  And you know, I'm never quite sure if I've got Him.  So to help me in chasing the Holy Spirit's movements, I think I (and by "I" I do mean "we") have a tendency to chase the medium through which we've last seen Him, and that is quite often a person - someone God has graciously chosen to use through whom He can channel His power and His presence.  This is the way that God designed our relationships with Him, and with each other.  We are to show God to each other, and to manifest His presence and His power through the use of our gifts and our obedience to Him.  That part of it is not wrong; it is beautiful and holy and awe-inspiring. 

Where we can stumble into a bit of a snag is in the chasing of that person or that thing through which we've experienced God.

For some reason this morning as I was preparing to do a load of laundry, I got thinking about Ave Maria.  Now, I'm a singer, so to me Ave Maria is an incredibly beautiful piece of music (well, two actually, Bach wrote the music (in one of the versions) and Gounod wrote the melody) and well deserving of its place of honour in music history.  But something this morning made me think of the words of Ave Maria - "Hail, Mary,
full of grace, the Lord is with thee.  Blessed art thou among women...," etc.  I'm sure that the subject of the Virgin Mary is a potential hotbed for comments on this post (which I would prefer did not appear), and please know that's not the purpose of what I'm writing here.  Because after Ave Maria, I went on to think about Mike Pilavachi.

Now, any of you who are familiar with Mike Pilavachi know that it's not a....natural thought process to go from the Virgin Mary to Mike Pilavachi.  But as I thought of our human inclination to grasp onto what God has worked through as opposed, perhaps, to God Himself, it made me think of Mike talking about himself as a minor Christian celebrity. 

Truthfully, Mike is probably a minor Christian celebrity, being the lead pastor of Soul Survivor here in the UK (and worldwide), but I should probably temper any irritation or judgment you might feel at him calling himself that by ensuring that you are aware that he was speaking, at the time, out his car window to a bison on the side of the road.  True story.  Apparently the bison wasn't paying enough attention to him and he wanted it to know that it was ignoring someone important.  (As a side note, I'm not sure it cared.  Probably it wasn't saved.  There's no other way to properly explain its lack of interest, really.)

Moving on from bison, however, the irony of Mike's words came back to me this morning.  Should there be any celebrity in the Kingdom of God besides Himself (not Mike, God)?  I don't think we can blame the people in 'public' ministry here entirely (if at all), but rather it is a good opportunity for us to each look at ourselves and ask the internal question, "What am I chasing?"  Am I chasing the Holy Spirit and the movements of God, wherever they might lead me?  Am I chasing a person and their ministry or the way they make me feel?  Sometimes those two things can look similar, especially if God is powerfully moving through a particular servant of His at a particular time.  But for their sake, and for our own, and most especially for the sake of the glory of God which is His alone, I think we have a responsibility to continually check our spirits and our motives as we talk about and chase any particular thing. 

Probably most of us do this anyway, and yet I felt it is something important to say, even as a reminder to be protective.  Protective of the humility of those God has chosen to lead us so that they are not confused or tempted to be prideful.  Protective of the holiness ('set-apart-ness') of God and His glory so that none share in His fame.  Protective of our own individual intimate relationships with God so that we do not allow absolutely anything to come between us and our Lover that will spark His jealousy or our distance.

Praise God for His servants - without them we would be wandering as lost sheep and far too vulnerable to the wolves in the world.  But God's glory is not is the shepherds themselves; it is only shown through the shepherds. So as we thank them and thank the Lord for giving them to us, let us not forget that we are chasing Him alone.  Only in that does the hunger inside of us truly get satisfied.

I was reading Isaiah 53 yesterday afternoon, and pondering specifically on verses 2-4, where in speaking about the coming Messiah (Jesus), it says:

So much has happened in the last four days!  It's hard to believe that I'm actually here in Banbury, UK.  But here I am.  What's also difficult to believe is that I made it in one piece, considering all the luggage....challenges....that I encountered on the journey to get here.

Firstly, at the Vancouver Airport, I had to lighten my two big suitcases, as they were over even the extra weight allowance.  And who doesn't like to open their luggage in the middle of a crowded airport?  Lots of joy.  However, it was managed.  Unfortunately one of the things I took out to have my folks send me later was....soap.  Oh well.  There is soap in England.

Next part of the journey was getting on the plane.  No wait, the next part of the journey was getting to the gate at YVR.  Perhaps I didn't mention that I was laiden with LARGE purse, laptop bag fully crammed with everything it would fit (I think my housecoat was in there), heavy camera bag (which also contained my ball caps - seriously, I used every nook and cranny when packing), and my violin, which also had multiple pounds of sheet music in the top of it.  Are you getting a mental picture yet?  If it makes you laugh, it's probably pretty close.

I was praising God possibly audibly when I finally turned the corner towards the D gates and realized that I was departing from the first one.  AND that there was a Tim Horton's just across from it.  Hallelujah.

Then, the plane.  On I hiked all my gear again, feeling more like a pack mule than I think I have ever felt before, and went down the walkway to the plane.

Then, uh-oh.  I went to walk down the aisle of the plane to get to row 25 and my seat when all of a sudden I jerked back.  I'm stuck.  I'm too wide!!  Argh!!  Not willing to give up (I'd already invested so much energy in getting to my seat I wasn't to be daunted), I forced my stuff through the seats, where it hit me in the back, propelling me to the next row of seats, where I got stuck, and where I forced my stuff through, and on and on to row 25.  I did at least offer a great deal of entertainment to my fellow passengers.  Small comfort. 

Now for the plane ride.  Truly, all was well.  I had a friendly gentleman sitting beside me on his way to his niece's wedding in London.  Great.  No drama there.

But then I arrived in London.  Back goes the gear onto my shoulders.  Back through the rows - pull, bump, pull, bump.  Finally the lady behind me, obviously taking pity on a truly demented individual, turned my laptop bag so that I at least wasn't getting stuck at each row.  Heaven!  I asked her what she was doing for the rest of the day, but she didn't seem to think that following me around with all my stuff sounded like too much fun.  Oh well.  Out of the plane and towards Customs.

My good fortune to have the first departure gate at YVR didn't hold for Gatwick.  I think I trudged about 17 miles with all my gear.  OK, perhaps not that far, but it certainly felt like it.  By then I was thoroughly sweating - for the third time that day, mind you (shoot - I have no soap) - and had to stop frequently to shift which bags are on which shoulders and to rest.  I got lapped by everyone in the plane, included those in row 45, and started to wonder if I was seeing people go by for a second time.  That might have been just delirium. I did decide that I would hijack a wheelchair, a service trolley or even a golf cart if it meant I had help to get to....wherever on earth Customs ended up being.  Bad news on that front: they were all chained up.  (Someone must have warned them that this crazy chick with way too much carry-on was coming - slowly - down the hall.)

At about the fourth stop to rest, I truly began to wonder if I was going to make it.  I very nearly started to cry from physical pain and emotional exhaustion.  I felt like I just couldn't do it, and wondered if Xander and Vanessa would simply assume that I didn't get on the plane in Vancouver or whether they would think to send someone in to find the weeping pile that used to be Karyn Baker.  In that moment, I asked God to help me.  I didn't even know what that would look like, but I needed help.

Immediately two women (who were behind my pull-bump-pull-bump maneuver getting on the plane), came up behind me, and jokingly said, "Hey, there she is again!"  And then I guess they realized that I was stopped for a reason and asked if they could help.  Those two beautiful women helped carry my stuff to Customs and all the way through the 2-hour lineup.  They were such an answer to my desperate prayer.  Then we went through Customs separately, of course (total breeze with my visa), but they found me on the other side and again grabbed some stuff.  Then when we got to baggage claim they routed around in their purses and found a pound coin to get me a luggage cart and make sure I was going to be OK, since I had forgotten to put my UK coins in my purse.  That's when they left me.  I have never been so glad to hug total strangers in my life (I don't think - it's probably not the first time I've done that).

So, I found my luggage (which was all sitting off to the side, our plane having arrived 2.5 hours before that), and shockingly, I managed to get two large suitcases, a carry-on suitcase, my violin, my laptop, and my camera bag onto the one cart.  Oh, did I mentioned that one of my [large] suitcase zippers was partially open?  So, for the second time in one trip I shoved clothes further back into a suitcase and closed it up.  Thankfully, it doesn't look like anything actually fell out or that the zipper was permanently broken.  But still, Airports - 2, Bakes - 0.  So then I attempted to wheel a very full luggage cart with one hand, have my large purse on one shoulder and carry my guitar in the other.  Actually, I was doing OK, but stopped to try and get the guitar hoisted on the top of the whole thing as well - since I nearly killed a person or two in my wanderings - and some random lady came up to me and asked if I needed help.  Without waiting for a response, she wisely grabbed the luggage cart from me and wheeled it straight to where Xander and Vanessa were waiting for me.  Again, I happily hugged a total stranger.

I actually think all three women might have been angels, especially that last one.  At the very least, they were huge answers to prayers cried out in desperation.  I found out later that my mom, being worried about my having so much stuff to manage, was praying that people would help me.  Thanks, Mom.  Prayers answered. 

Oh yes, I probably should have mentioned that at lunch with Xander and Vanessa (at the airport), I mistakenly thought I heard the waitress say that I should use more soap.  Then Xander thought I might want to wash my face and Vanessa later suggested I have a bath.

Needless to say, I have since bought some soap.

I find it slightly ironic that my last post was about how incredibly long it had been since I posted a blog, only to notice that the space between that one and the previous one was 11 months.  Between that one and this is...about 18  months.  Huh.  But as I imminently depart for a new season of life and move overseas to Scotland, I have been thinking that I might start blogging again to keep people up to date on life and what's happening.  (If you see nothing here for the next 23 months, you'll know the thought was fleeting and the goal wholly unrealized.)  So, stay tuned!  The next post will be from Banbury, England, where I'll be staying for a while before heading north to become a true Scottish lassie.