The object of our worship (Prayer Devotional for the week of April 21, 2013)

More than 500 years before Jesus’ arrival, while the Jews were exiled to Babylon (around the time of Daniel and the book of Lamentations), a boy named Confucius was born near the bustling Chinese city of Qufu (pronounced chew-foo). Confucius grew up in probably a middle-class home, by today’s standards, and later became a civic leader and teacher.

Confucius spoke out about moral and political matters, and numerous quotable proverbs are attributed to him many centuries later. Interestingly, I am not aware of any writings in which Confucius claimed to be deity, but after his death in 478 B.C., his home in Qufu was consecrated as a temple, and emperors and others began journeying there to offer sacrifices in his memory. Today, followers of Confucianism span throughout the far and middle east.

I had the opportunity to visit Qufu in the mid-90s, and the grounds are breathtakingly beautiful with mature trees, intricate architecture and ancient relics. What struck me the most, and the reason I’m sharing this story with you today, was the Cemetery of Confucius. His tomb is still there, and I would assume that it still contains his remains. When people go to the Temple of Confucius to pray and offer sacrifices (meat, treasures, etc.), it saddens me to think that the object of their worship was just a man. Granted, he was apparently a profound speaker and highly respected man of his time, but still, Confucius was just a person.

It’s easy for many of us to distance ourselves from ideas like Confucianism because it seems foreign to us. That’s how “those people” in mysterious, far corners of the globe worship. But, it is really that far-fetched from our American culture today? Think about the people who we tend to idolize: athletes, musicians, actors … and that doesn’t even include material “gods” like our cars, smartphones and purse collections. Not such a foreign concept, after all, is it?

2 Thessalonians warns us not to be swayed by false gods or let our worship become distracted by things of this world. On a similar note, Romans 12:1-2 reminds us that we should offer God a sacrifice, but not one that we might deliver to a shrine. God wants our day-to-day lives to be treated as a sacrifice to him. We don’t have to take gifts to God at a fancy altar to appease him; he wants our worship as part of our personal relationship with him.

Hagrid and heavy metal

I feel like that line from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone when Hagrid accidentally tells the kids about Fluffy, the vicious 3-headed guard dog: “I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.” I made a snarky post on Twitter last night that I can just hear my brother doubled-over in laughter about (partly because of the music reference — which he would totally appreciate :), and partly because I didn’t think before I spoke/wrote). I have since deleted it, but I have no doubt that it is logged in the annals of cyberspace somewhere. Internet Security 101: nothing we post online is ever truly private or ever truly gone.

It came about because I was whining about having to finish my 10-12pg budget analysis paper (which is due Thursday night, but I’m traveling for work all day on Thursday, so for me, it needs to be finished by Wednesday/tonight). It’s a completely self-imposed problem; I could have worked on it weeks ago and just let time get away from me. (The sort-of-good news is that I’m about halfway finished now.)

Anyway, I made a comment about putting on headphones & cranking up the heavy metal music so I could work after the kids went to bed, and then I mentioned a song called “Whiskey Hangover” by the band Godsmack. (I know it isn’t the most uplifting music in the world, but it helps me focus on research in a way that background hymnal music would not. Idk why, it just does. Maybe it’s because I don’t sing along; it’s just music.) This morning when I woke up, I thought to myself that anyone unfamiliar with the song (which would be most people I know, since most of them are not fans of that genre) might think that I’d been drinking too much. Great – that’s all I need is for people to think I’m drunk-tweeting. So, I deleted the post.

I guess this is why some people don’t use social media, so they don’t stick their feet in their mouths. Alas.

The Here and Now (Prayer Devotional for the week of April 14, 2013)

Your birth was no accident. Sure, it’s possible that your parents may not have expected you, but your arrival was no surprise to God. There’s a reason you were born, and your life has a purpose in God’s grand plan.

That all sounds well and good, but I have struggled for a long time with scenarios of lives cut short, as I grieve and cope with loses in my own life. I don’t think we do it intentionally, but it’s natural to have an egocentric perspective and think about MY life and how the world in which I live affects ME. It is far more difficult for us to think outside of ourselves and realize that maybe our lives have a purpose far beyond what we can grasp or imagine.

Lately, I’ve been drawn to passages of Scripture about lineages. (Admittedly, I used to skip over huge sections of verses like these, because they seemed irrelevant to the story.) Take a look at Matthew 1, for example. It begins with the genealogy of Jesus, from Abraham onward. Most of the names in the list mean nothing to me; some aren’t even mentioned elsewhere in the Bible. And yet, folks like Azor, Achim, Eliud and others had a vitally important role to play in human history: they were ancestors in the story of the Messiah!

My brother died at age 30, and no offense to you menfolk, but that’s barely mature for a guy, much less old enough to have lived what we might consider a “full” life, by today’s standards. What purpose could be served in such a seemingly premature death? When I read passages of Scripture like Matthew 1, I’m reminded that my brother’s purpose was fulfilled in ways that God understands but I do not. Maybe it was the birth of his two children or the lasting influence of his life on others – who knows. Generations from now, someone might look back in history with the advantage of hindsight and uncover details of his brief life and put pieces in place that I couldn’t even begin to fathom right now. The point is, I don’t need to know.

That’s where faith comes in: we will all face unanswerable questions in life, and we can decide to throw up our hands in frustration or take God’s hand in trust. I choose to trust that God has a plan, and our lives – however long or short, however grandiose or unnoticed – are important pieces to his puzzle.