Stomp for Jesus?

I recently went to a production of "Stomp" with some friends. If you're not familiar, it's a dance/drumming group that uses every day things--brooms, newspapers, pipes, gas cans, kitchen sinks, basketballs--to make music. Not the kind of music you'd hear in a cathedral or concert hall--but music nonetheless. Personally, I think they do a mighty fine job of it (see the video below if you'd like a taste).

The show was plenty engaging in it's own right. But even as I watched with simple delight, I couldn't help but think about a question that I often hear: What does it mean to be "Reformed"?

The standard answer is that being "Reformed" has to do with (a) our historical roots in the Reformation of the 16th Century and (b) our conviction that the sovereign God has placed his claim on "every square inch" of our lives and we are to bring him glory in all that we do.

I think that's an accurate answer--but it's not a very inspiring or creative one. So as I sat and watched those musicians swoosh their brooms in perfect rhythm and clang on their sinks in strange harmony, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a better answer playing out right in front of me. After all, we Reformed folks pride ourselves in using the term "worship" in a very broad way. We want to expand the activity beyond the sanctuary on Sunday morning--we want it to overflow into all of life, wherever we find ourselves, no matter what we're doing. And it seems to me that that's exactly what was happening in that show. Of course, those who were making that music may not have intended it that way--but I suspect that God took some delight--in their creativity and joy, their harmonies and their rhythms, in their ability to make music with whatever the could find--anyway.

So, how is it that we can make God glorifying "music" while standing over our own kitchen sinks, clicking at our keyboards, ruffling through our papers? How can we use everything in life--even our garbage--to bring Him praise and glory?

Stomp- Stomp Out Loud

Great Taste During Lent

No joke: I saw this sign in Taco Bell a few weeks ago. There are too many levels of irony to comment on here, but suffice it to say that I'm not so sure that the folks who came up with the concept really "get" Lent. Even so, they helped me "get" it a little better.

I've still got John 4 (the Samaritan Woman at the Well) on the brain. I'm still thinking about why Jesus goes about unraveling this woman's past. The obvious answer (which is usually the best answer when it comes to Scripture interpretation) is that he wanted to help her see how she'd been looking for love in all the wrong places. Jesus wanted to open her eyes to the way that she'd been trying to quench her deepest thirsts and hungers (for intimacy, meaning, security) in all the wrong places. He wanted to show her how she'd been filling up on cheap substitutes that could never leave her satisfied. He wanted to show her just how thirsty (and hungry) she was for Him, and what he could offer her.

It seems to me that Jesus wanted to show her that she was trying to fill up on Taco Bell when what she really wanted was Him.

That, of course, is one of the great questions we ask ourselves during Lent. Who (or what) do we look to to satisfy our hungers and quench our thirsts? Have we been duped into filling up on cheap substitutes and lost our appetites for the real deal?

Recently, a friend of mine posted this quote on her blog:

" Do not be surprised, therefore, when you have yielded your service, given your affection, and poured out your heart to that pleasure of yours, your idol,
your own lust and mischief--do not be surprised, then, if you have no appetite
for Christ, or for that heavenly food."
--Robert Bruce

She then went on to confess that she needs to give up reading anything but the Bible for a while. It's a drastic step for her because she loves books, loves words, loves ideas, loves stories. But she says that she's been so busy trying to satisfy her thirst with them--these "cheapo substitutes"--that she's lost her appetite for Living Water and Bread from Heaven. Books were her "Taco Bell."

I love her insight for it's honesty. But I also love it because it helped me see that sometimes, the things that we need to give up--those artificial substitutes--often aren't bad in and of themselves. What's keeping us from drinking deeply from the well of Living Water might not be something obvious: pornography, or gossip, or promiscuous relationships--those favorite sins of preachers. It may be something that is good in it's proper place--when our loves are properly ordered (as Augustine said)--but that has slipped out of place. It may be that we're filling up on books, family, work, hobbies. It may be that these good things that have become dangerous because we're too full of them to be full of Him. If you'll let me push the analogy--it may be that we're taking what's okay on occasion (Taco Bell?) and filling up on it all the time.

Of course, it doesn't have to be that way. Jesus says he's got something better than Grilled Stuffed Burritos for us. He says that we "he has food we may know nothing about (vs. 32) and that "...those who drink the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

The next time you're tempted to pull through the drive-thru at Taco Bell, think about that! He is the one who satisfies!