The artists from Mothership have produced a breathtaking public art installation in Rotterdam. In their own words:

On May 14th 1940 the city of Rotterdam was bombed. The bombs and especially the fire that followed reduced its centre to smoldering ashes.

Already during the war it was decided that the destroyed buildings wouldn’t be rebuild, but that Rotterdam would be turned into a new, modern city.

For Rotterdam 2007 – City of Architecture, the border indicating the destroyed area will be marked with huge spotlights. Each light has a capacity of 7000 watts. The invisible border will be shown in a spectacular way!”

[h/t: Notcot]

This project immediately call to mind the “Tribute in Light” project in New York city, in which artists created two towers of light from a cluster of searchlights where the fallen towers once stood.

These projects bear silent witness to the symbolic power of light that cuts through darkness. They inspire hope, even wonder, in their viewers. Could this be what Jesus meant when talked about cities and hills, and lamps and bowls? Sometimes, we reduce the idea or “shining” for Jesus to that one Sunday a year when we roll out the little ones in front of the congregation to sing “this little light of mine.” Sometimes our light is more like that of an overzealous police officer holding a Maglite at head level and peering menacingly into the law-breaking sinner’s car: “Do you know why I’ve singled you out tonight, sir?” says the Christian SWAT team.

What if our light cut through darkness, offering a breathtaking glimpse into the kingdom, inspiring hope and wonder at the sight of such life within us?

Our family went for a quick day trip to La Jolla the other day — a lovely town just north of San Diego proper (and pronounced “La Hoya” in case you ever need to say it). There are some swanky shops in the downtown area (where we purchased our first Blik wall decals); but we were there for the beaches. We started at the cove, but the rising tide quickly sent us over toward the tide pools. Our daughter enjoyed seeing a couple of little fish skittering around the tide pools, but spent most of her time making “chalk” drawings in the loose sand. Finally, we ended up at the Children’s Pool — an area of the beach partially protected by a seawall that was originally, as its name suggests, a children’s swimming area but is currently a protected area for seals and sea lions.

seal.jpg

We were able to get a closeup view of some seals (which, we learned at SeaWorld, can be distinguished from sea lions because they do not have obvious ear flaps) from down on the beach. None of them followed us home, but we had a pretty great view. The seal in the center looked a little bit stressed out by all the onlookers, so we didn’t hang out for long — but look closely at the seal lying on its back to the center-left of the photo. It is the picture of relaxation — just lying around, grinning. Certainly put a smile on my face.

Though the moments often feel few and far between, I love those unexpected God-moments that put a smile on my face. I was able to have coffee this week with a student who has been coming out to our church for the past several weeks. He comes from a Buddhist background but is earnestly seeking truth. For over two hours, I heard a little bit of his life story — the enormous pressure his extended family has put on him, the brokenness of his family relationships, his sincere search for truth and meaning. He listened intently as I shared with him about God’s enormous, incomprehensible love for people, why Jesus died on the cross for us and what that means for our lives. I love it when God surprises me, breaking through my hard-hearted cynicism about sharing the Gospel.

Our neighbors to the north (who still owe me five dollars in real quarters!) might be relieved if this scene from last week’s Taiwanese legislature leads to a new set of corny jokes to distract us from hockey’s violent tendencies: I was at a boxing match and a session of legislation broke out! Speaking of hockey, here’s to the Hockeytown heroes who have defied the low expectations of the Golden Mullet himself and are actually winning their series against the Ducks. I hope I haven’t jinxed them, as I might have done to my beloved Bad Boys. I was just on the verge of hassling my favorite librarian friend (a true Chi-town fan) about the Pistons going up 3-0 when the baby Bulls seem to have made it a series. But I digress…

All too often, the above image describes the life of the church. We find something about which we can wholeheartedly disagree and we turn into Itchy and Scratchy: We fight! And bite! We fight and bite and fight! I might be a bit sensitive to these issues, having attended a seminary that, in conservative Asian American circles, causes some people to go apoplectic. I know people who were told not to attend this school because it was not only “liberal” but it was “satanic.” Makes some of today’s shock jocks sound positively tame. While I was studying there, another student from a nearby, proudly conservative, seminary came to take Hebrew at our seminary. He told his friends he was a “missionary” to the campus. Sheesh.

Sometimes we barely begin discussing a topic before someone takes their ball and goes home — Oh, you think women shouldn’t stay in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant? Well, you must not believe in the Bible. I can’t fellowship with sinners like you. I’m sure it works the other way as well (a progressive voice dismissing a conservative person out of hand) but I’m just relaying what my experiences have been like.

I’m not advocating a naive kind of hand-holding “unity” that ignores theological and/or denominational distinctives. I am, however, all for people dialing it down a couple (several) notches when it comes to engaging those with whom they might disagree. I think John Ortberg might be onto something with his “Sin Prediction Index.” As he writes in Everybody’s Normal ‘Til You Get to Know Them:

When we practice the proverb (basically: less talk, more listen), we begin to learn amazing things. We can live without getting the last word. We can live without trying to make sure we control how other people are thinking about us. We can live without winning every argument, without powering up over every decision, without always drawing attention to ourselves.

Or, as our man James puts it, “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”

Over the past couple of years, I have written a handful of articles for the online edition of Relevant magazine (you can find them archived on the sidebar under “My Writing). As their tagline suggests, the articles are categorized under the headings of God, Life and Progressive Culture. One might find articles from established authors such as Scot McKnight and Doug Paggitt alongside many other, lesser-known voices. Some articles come and go quickly and quietly, while others (which, for example, might be based on misquoting a famous rock star) generate some boisterous discussion.

One recent article about the environment caused a bit of a stir among some readers. While some might not have understood the format (“You can’t write a letter to the environment, you idol-worshiper!”), the most off-putting objections created a false dichotomy between being a good steward of God’s creation and sharing the Gospel with non-Christians. In a stunning display of logic, one commenter argues that caring for the environment is a slippery slope, inevitably leading to acceptance of homosexuality and abortion. Interestingly enough, this commenter also claims that creation care is a political, not kingdom, agenda — though this person’s politics are readily evident.

I recently completed Serve God, Save the Planet by J. Matthew Sleeth — it’s featured on my “Currently Enjoying” page. Sleeth does much to dispel the myth that people who care for creation must be mother earth-worshiping pagans. Just the opposite — for those of us who love Jesus and take seriously His command to love God and others whole-heartedly, we are compelled to care for His creation.  As the title implies, the greatest command is to love and serve God — but we must recognize that responsible living and creation care are expressions of deep, genuine love for God.

Sleeth argues that living an environmentally responsible lifestyle is a biblical mandate. He warns us not to equate “dominion” over the earth’s resources as a license for wastefulness or greed. Far too many Christians have justified their harmful lifestyles with faulty theology.  Picture the Bible-belt businessman who was caught dumping toxins into the water from which local residents drew their drinking water.  His response?  Well, Jesus is coming back anyways, so what does it matter if we trash the place?

For those who worry about elevating the care of creation over care for human beings, Sleeth writes, “Being pro-stewardship is not a case of valuing forests more than people; rather, it means valuing human possessions less, and God’s world more.”  Indeed, if we genuinely want to love our neighbors as ourselves, then we must be conscious of how our lifestyles affect them — especially the poorest among the world’s poor.  Sleeth writes from his personal experience:

This honest inventory (a personal assessment of the environmental impact made by his family) is what the Christian faith required of me. How could I say that I was being a good steward when I was causing so much damage to God’s creation?  How could I say that I cared about my neighbor when the poorest people are most affected by the climate change that I was causing?

In essence, caring for creation and being a goods steward is part of our response to the central command to love God with everything we have and to love others in the same way. We love God by caring for what He has created and partnering with Him in its stewardship.  We love others by recognizing that our lifestyles have a direct impact on them. Even for those who argue that a Christian’s only responsibility is to share the words of the Gospel with others, we cannot witness to people if they have already been killed because of the climate change, drought or famine that was dropped on them.

This has been a slow process of small changes in my life.  For example, my wife pointed out to me early in our marriage that I would let the water run the entire time while I brushed my teeth and washed the dishes.  I shudder to think of how much water I have wasted in my lifetime, especially given how limited access to clean water is in many parts of the world. So now, I shut off the water while brushing or washing dishes.  Recently, we have begun trying to drive our cars less.  In Southern California, it would not be uncommon for a person to drive down the block to see a friend instead of walking.  So these days, if I need to pick up a coffee while I’m at church, I will take the ten-minute walk instead of the thirty-second drive.

One of the things I am very excited about is the CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) we just signed up for.  Through the Tierra Miguel Foundation, we will be picking up about fifteen pounds of fresh produce every two weeks for less than $17.00 a week.  In this age of mass production of food, we are glad to be able to support a local farm.  The food is organically grown using environmentally-sound principles, so it is good for the earth.  And it is locally grown, so it reduces the negative impact of shipping food across long distances (exhaust from the long-haul trucks, wasteful packaging, etc.).

We might take our daughter to visit the farm during one of their volunteer days.  Although learning about creation care can be a bit stressful for her at times, we want her to develop a God-centered perspective early (which is not easy in our princess-obsessed culture for little ones).  After all, it makes more sense to start with simple living rather than trying to combat years of having a materialistic perspective.

I have been encouraged and challenged by the many communities who have seen that creation care is an integral part of God’s message of redemption for the entire world.  I hope this thread also runs through my life and the communities of which God calls me to be a part.

No, not this one

I was reading today over at Notcot (a great site for checking out aesthetically pleasing miscellany) about a store in Manhattan’s ever-hip Lower East Side called GrandOpening. The owners, brothers Ben and Hall Smyth, reinvent and re-open this 400-square foot space every three months — thus, the name “GrandOpening.”

In its current iteration, New Yorkers can test their table tennis skills against one another in pickup games or even in a season-ending tournament — the LES Cup. It’s not just for ping-pong players, either. Fans can watch from a small set of bleachers on the inside, or from a live feed on the web.

Call it a manifesto or a vision statement, but here is something interesting from their website:

GrandOpening is a store.
GrandOpening will have many “Grand Openings”.
Grand
Opening isn’t afraid to change its face.
GrandOpening will engage and entertain the community.
GrandOpening could be yours for a month, or two, or three.
GrandOpening might be different the next time you come by

If I were still living out there, I think I would want to stop by and play a game. Although it might border on being a bit precious, there is something whimsical and playful about this idea. A lot of church communities could benefit from some whimsy from time to time. I mean, would it work to substitute a church’s name in the purpose statement above?