Jesus Asks: Who do you say that I am?

This is the 16th post in my series "Asking Myself," in which I weekly ponder one question posed in Teresa Blythe's rich book, 50 Ways to Pray. You can find the start of the series here and last week's post here. The first nine posts focused on theological musings, while posts 10 to the present prayerfully consider the specific questions Jesus posed in the New Testament.

Q: Who do you say that I am? (Luke 9:20)

Like last week, I've approached this question prayerfully, exploring it philosophically, reflectively, rather than trying to figure out the verse in context. I need only to know that Jesus asked this because some had been telling a jittery Herod Antipas (who had beheaded John the Baptist)

that John the Baptist had been raised from the dead. Others thought Jesus was Elijah or one of the other prophets risen from the dead. (Luke 9:7-8)

Thinking about why various people claimed Jesus was a resurrected prophet leads me to a rabbit hole that I don't want to fall down this morning. Let's just say, people then (as they do now) had some odd ideas about who Jesus was, and many of the ideas fed their worse fears and guilt. Peter, who knew Jesus up close and personal, had a moment of clarity in which he proclaimed:

You are the Messiah, sent from God. (Luke 9:20)

Hatmaker's "For the Love": my new favorite book

The first thing you should know about this book and this author is that she's hilarious. If you're tired of boring and dry, this is the antidote. However, if you're like me and consider yourself a serious thinker, you might worry where the opening humor, light hearted self-deprecation and self-helpy prose are leading you. Happily, there's depth and wisdom and maturity bubbling beneath Hatmaker's big personality.

What's striking about pastor and popular blogger Jen Hatmaker's newest book For the Love: Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards is that she blends personal stories, theology, humor, and practical tips for child rearing, marriage and Christian community so seamlessly. There's even recipes for Roast Lamb and Pad Thai in there. In this way, it's somewhat like a blog. Yet all the parts send a cohesive message, which I think is summed up in these freeing words Hatmaker gives to her five children: "God measures our entire existence by only two things: how we love Him and how we love people. If you get this right, you can get a million other things wrong" (189).

Review of Believe Storybook by Randy Frazee

The Parrinos have been on the move lately...in particular, we've moved from Hopkinsville, KY to Cleveland, OH. With our family in flux, I'm longing for some consistency. Just before we moved, I began reading the Believe Storybook: Think Act Be Like Jesus, written by Randy Frazee and illustrated in a rich, evocative style by Steve Adams. Unlike most of the children's bibles in our collection, this is a weighty book. A hefty 256 pages measuring 9 x 11 inches, and 2.8 pounds, the Believe Storybook is arranged into three 10-chapter sections: Think, Act and Be. Each chapter teaches a particular theme using one old and one new testament story.

According to the cover, this devotional, based on the popular Believe series of devotionals, is geared for ages 4 and up. I have a 4-year-old, but he only sat next to his big brother and I for about 30 seconds before scampering off to grab another book off the shelf.

"Flipped" promises thought revolution but underdelivers on citations

It's hard not to be intrigued by a the title of Solomon's Porch pastor Doug Pagitt's new book, Flipped: The Provocative Truth That Changes Everything We Know About God. Inside, Pagitt promises that he'll be telling a story about Jesus and how revolutionary His words were when he lived and now, if taken in their proper context. That context, Pagitt contends, is one in which we Christians are "In God" and where we live, move and exist in Him. This is in opposition to the prevailing religious story of a transaction-based relationship between us and God.

I love this line of thought. And I wanted to read more about the author's view of being in Christ (as opposed to simply Christ in us), which he hints is that revolutionary truth that changes everything. In his third chapter, Pagitt writes, "The preposition in is a profoundly meaningful word. And flipping the order of words from 'God is in all' to 'all is In God' is more than a semantic move. It offers a clearer, more honest, more biblical understanding of who God is and who we are In God" (40). At this point, I'm hooked.

Review of Carlos Whittaker's "Moment Maker"

My bookish friend and I recently finished reading worship leader and blogger Carlos Whittaker's Moment Maker: You Can Live Your Life or It Will Live You. It's a quick read fully of interesting stories, at turns heart-wrenching and humorous. But at first, I was a little frustrated by this book. I was waiting for it to methodically instruct me in the art of living in the moment and making the most of life's moments. That sounds a little absurd now that I've typed it. But my misconception was fueled in part by phrases on the back cover like "Carlos guides..." and "Carlos shares... his methodolgy for living on purpose." The book's many emotionally charged stories are also loosely organized into three sections, "Created Moments," "Received Moments," and "Rescued Moments" and the book's Afterword outlines the "Moment-Making Method." However, when I tried to imagine what I needed to do in order to be more moment-oriented, I found that the actual steps Whittaker shares are somewhat vague and at times conflicting. Should I be capturing moments with my pen and camera, or should I put down my lens so I can really live these moments? Whittaker seems to argue both in his chapter on the birth of his second daughter. Should I heed the call to "Go! Blaze!" or should I pause? Whittaker argues both.

So I stopped trying to read it like a guidebook or a How-To, and that made all the difference. I let this book be what I think it really is: a memoir of moments from the life of one of my brothers in Christ. From this perspective, I could receive some lessons that instructed my heart.

Here's what I gleaned:

• When my kids are having a moment, I don't need to push them or try to fix them. Sometimes drawing out the awkward pause, listening rather than trying to offer solutions, allowing the tears to drop and holding them in a full-attention hug is the best I can give. See Whittaker's stories about of the tragic end of his daughters' butterfly farm, his daughter's accepting Jesus and their family trip to help recover tornado victims' prized belongings.

• Explore every day. Whittaker sets his alarm to remind him to take in his surroundings and get inspired for future moment-making possibilities. And then he writes them down in his folder of more than 34,000 ideas!

• Allow God to speak through others. Even the bearded barista or the music-loving homeless guy.

• Value others through my actions. Even strangers and people with completely different life experiences. In Whittaker's case, this involved a rowdy group of soldiers newly returned from Afghanistan and a group of transgendered divas ready to beat up some rednecks in a Nashville honky tonk. I'm guessing I'll probably insert myself into different situations :)

• If you can't measure up to your competitors, use creativity to showcase your unique skills. It might work, as it did for an out-of-shape college student auditioning to be a roaming character at Disneyland.

So, in conclusion, I like the intention of this book, and even though his personality is probably the polar opposite of my own, I like Carlos Whittaker's spontaneity, creativity and interest in others. He doesn't really have a method to his moment-making maddness, but he does exemplify the greatest commandment to love God and love others as himself.

Review of "From Tablet to Table" by Leonard Sweet

I'm a foodie and a storyteller, so I was delighted to read Leonard Sweet's From Tablet to Table, in which he argues that God incarnate invites us to find our identity (how we fit into His story) and true community around the dinner table in our homes, churches and in the world.

This is a little book with ample white space and font size. For that reason, it was easy on the eyes and easy to gobble up the 162 pages in three sittings.  Sweet's poetic writing style and constant word play around the metaphor of the table also drew me in and played in my mind like a charismatic preacher's sermon-- not surprisingly, since Sweet is the lead writer of Sermons.com.

In the first half of the book, Sweet establishes the superiority of the table over the tablets of law for nourishing and imparting God's story into our hearts. Jesus, he argues, was very interested in what was for dinner. He taught not from a pulpit, but while reclining at table with friends, inviting himself to dinner with sinners, providing a mountainside meal to thousands. The predominant "narraphor" of the entire Bible, Sweet argues, is God preparing a table before us.

Besides being inspirational, there's also a good bit of practicality in these pages. Sweet provides rapid fire statistics from modern secular studies that have shown that frequent family dinners around a table are the biggest factor in boosting children's intelligence, compassion, vocabulary and future academic success and in preventing drug-use, obesity, eating disorders and suicidal thoughts. The mom in me was convinced, and the journalist in me was especially pleased at Sweet's extensive source list at the back of the book.

The second part of the book explores how we can continue to do table in remembrance of Jesus in our homes, in churches and while loving our neighbors outside the church. At this point, I was hoping for rich stories of real people with vibrant table time in each of these settings. Instead, I felt Sweet focused too heavily on the perils of modern life, in which children eat Big Macs while playing games on the iPad and where "two bodies eating together at the same table but on different planets in mind and spirit" (90) is a frequent restaurant scene.

To combat our struggles with the tide of the age, Sweet employs his table metaphor as a panacea. To any problem, he urges, "Table it. Table everything" (124). Yet, as much as I agree that the table promises a sacred time and space for family bonding, I don't quite know what that looks like (for me) practically. If I'm having trouble herding my three little children and busy husband to the table, if no one likes eating the same foods and if everyone is hungry at different times, how does "tableing it" solve my problem? How do I even get everyone to the table?

But, to be fair, this isn't that book. This is the anthem, the love song to true communion, growth, and transformation around the table. And Sweet eventually permits that could be a metaphoric table. As long as people are in the habit of eating together and truly connecting with those with whom they're eating, Jesus will be the food and the drink. While this book does not lay out a tablet of rules or the "7 steps to better family dinners," I find my heart is both fed and hungry for life at my Lord's table.

*Many thanks to Tyndale for sending me a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.*