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.*

Channeling my inner indignant Martha

This blog has always been about the books I read, but I've long felt that I'd like to include musings on The Book I read the most. With New Year's resolutions fresh on my mind, one of my goals this year is using my time and energies wisely. Probably the poster child for misappropriating her efforts, Martha is often cast as the villain and Mary the protagonist in Luke 10:38-42. Given the choice, I prefer time listening to and gazing at Jesus to scrambling and hustling for Jesus, but I had to ask myself what I really choose most moments of every mundane day. I also tried to put myself into the story and ask what would the Mary and Martha story be like if everyone did the "right" thing?

Is there a way the story could have happened where neither sister missed out and nobody goes hungry?  Perhaps Martha cooks simply or announces that tonight's meal is a potluck? Where ever Jesus was, there were big crowds following. Perhaps they limit the number of house guests? But even if it was only Jesus and his twelve disciples, that's still a hefty dinner party. Perhaps, if Martha feels so bold as to confront Jesus, she could have requested he come and sit in the kitchen with she and Mary while they both prepared food and listened? Not exactly at his feet, but still intimate.

Maybe Martha could cook (again, a simple meal) and Mary could do all the dishes and clean up so Martha could recline at table afterward?

Perhaps Mary and Martha should have more open lines of communication between each other. That fact that Martha resorts to shaming her in front of Jesus and everyone else shows that they didn't discuss the big event before it was upon them. Though, maybe Jesus's arrival was a bit of a surprise.

Of course, everyone wants to be the Mary of the story. But she's not exactly blameless. Still, Jesus doesn't blame her. He diagnoses Martha as "worried and distracted by many things." Yet, it's hard not to be concerned when your guest list is out the door and there's too few cooks in the kitchen. Would it have been righteous to serve dinner late or not at all?

Or is it OK to ask Jesus to perform miracles that don't need to be performed like "Please feed this full house without me having to slave alone in the hot kitchen even though I could do it and have always done it?" Feeding the 5,000 + women and children with a fish sandwich is a worthy request, but what about "God, can you please make my life simpler so I can have the energy to obey you? So I have time to pursue my dream of writing children's books for 30 minutes a day? So I can spend time in trying out new prayer exercises each morning?

Even as I write, I'm very near to all my own worries and distractions. I don't want to lash out at others who don't exhibit the same vulnerability to these pressures as I do. But I also don't know how to manage my practical responsibilities (real or perceived) without forfeiting "the one thing," the "better part."

How do I choose that better part. Is it my turn to choose it? I want to be a Mary- shedding gender roles and other's expectations to just bask in the creative glow of communion with my Jesus. If Martha was indignant, "Lord, do you not care?" --what must the disciples thought about little Mary auditing their class with the Master? But then how will we eat? How will I obey in all the little things, some of which happen to be feeding three little mouths and two big ones?



Is the answer merely in better communication between myself as a Martha-type and whoever happens to be my Mary-counterpart? Cuz, honestly, as this little drama unfolds in my head, it's not Martha, Mary and Jesus. It's me, my better half and "free" time. No. Let's call it quality "me" time.

Yikes. Does that mean I long for "me" more than Jesus? I'm gonna give myself the benefit of the doubt here, seeing as at the moment, "me" time is actually time interacting, trying to interact with Jesus. And that refocuses me. I pray He'd teach me to choose the better part when its mine for the choosing. There must be a choice, right? There must be points at which I can choose one part or the other. But if it's a part of the whole, does that automatically mean someone's gotta take the worse part? Is it really a closed system, a limited economy? Does one get Jesus and the other suffers? One's rich and the other's poor. I don't think that's the God in whom I believe.

It circles be back to the idea of sharing responsibilities and benefits.

And Jesus, what did you mean when you said that "better part" would "not be taken away from her"? Is it simply that you refused to shame Mary as her big sister was? Or, ever the double entendre wielding prophet, where You saying that the "part" or choice and path Mary took was life-imparting, so that some element of the divine was being inwrought in a way that couldn't be taken from her, just as we can never be separated from God's love?

Now back to Martha. The story makes me think Martha is the oldest. I see Lazarus and Mary as the younger siblings because when Jesus arrives on the doorstep of his favorite place in Bethany, "Martha welcomed into her home." She might not have been the breadwinner, but she certainly seems to be the matriarch of the house. She wasn't even really concerned that she was missing out on Jesus. She was upset because she wanted to lavish this huge feast on Him and everyone watching. She was probably a gifted hostess. But she needed to really outdo herself, and that involved more than herself. I'm sure I've felt this so many times. She's so at home with her self pity. She was upset because Mary was, in her mind, supposed to be more interested in food prep than gobbling up God's word.

Jesus gave Martha a personalized "word of wisdom" when she confronted both Jesus (for lack of concern over her plight) and Mary (for lazing around with the the men). As an aside, despite all her apparent social bumbling in this story, I have to admire the level of intimacy Martha has with Jesus. You have to be close to chide the Messiah. "Martha, Martha!" He calls her by name, as if to shake her out of an obsession, "You are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing."

So. What is the "one thing"? Is it the same as Mary's "better part"? Is one thing simply to still oneself and sit and listen to what Jesus is saying? I don't have certain answers. Just more questions. What would have happened if nobody cooked? What would Jesus have said or done? Would both sisters have a part of the better part? Would Jesus have whipped up a miracle meal or have directed his disciples to procure one from a mysterious source? What are your thoughts on this story, and how do you apply Jesus's words to Martha?

Books to teach gratitude to moms

Well, I couldn't very well post some children's books on gratitude without recommending a couple of books for grown-ups. As much as I'm a fan of literature-based learning, the "book" my children read everyday is my life. I model my heart of gratitude (or greed) each day through what I say, what I spend my time doing and what expression I wear on my face. Usually what I've been reading and pondering have a big impact on the story I live.

If you're following me on this thought, here are two books I highly recommend to help put things into proper perspective:

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Vosskamp
I read this book two years ago after a dear friend gave it to me. In our current culture of always wanting more, more, more, Vosskamp turns our attention to the countless blessings we already have. The farmer's wife and mother of six takes Philippians 4:8 to heart and task, by keeping her eyes and heart wide open for what things are lovely, virtuous and pure in her everyday life. Vosskamp shares both her struggles with anxiety and the simple practice of keeping a gratitude journal that refocused her eyes on everyday miracles and freed her from pain. The opening chapter of the book does contain a very tragic memory of losing her sister at a young age, which might be a trigger for some readers who have faced similar losses. Vosskamp's poetic writing style takes a little getting used to, as she has a dreamy, stream of consciousness approach to retelling some of her story. But once you fall into the rhythm of her voice, you'll probably feel inspired to start recording your own list of daily gifts and writing poetically. I loved the way she was able to transform the most mundane moment into something holy. Her musing on nature and moments with her children resonated with me especially. You might also enjoy her beautiful blog, A Holy Experience, which incidentally, is where I learned about the author and ministry of the following book:

Kisses From Katie by Katie Davis
Cultivating gratitude goes beyond just counting our blessings and feeling good about our lives. A deep seated gratitude releases us and fuels us to live the way we were created to live in God's image. In The Message, the latter half of Romans 12:1 is translated "Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit in without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you." Ponder those words for a moment. What would that look like in real life? If you want to see what that counter-culture lifestyle looks like, read this book.

Born and raised in the ritzy suburbs of Nashville, Katie Davis lived a charmed American life. Homecoming queen, top of her class, she says in her introduction that she, "dated cute boys, wore cute shoes and drove a cute sports car." She was on a track to go to college, marry her sweetheart and live a comfortable life. Kisses From Katie tells the story of how she fell head-over-heals in love with Jesus and the people of an impoverished Ugandan village during a short-term missions trip. It's been more than five years, and Davis is still in Uganda. She's bid goodbye to her former life and culture. And she's so thankful for the materially spartan but busy and spiritually rich life she now lives. She's started Amazima, a ministry that sponsors children so they can attend school and stay with their birth families. More importantly, she's become adoptive mother to 14 children.

Now, when I first read about Davis adopting all these children, some of whom she nursed back to health from the brink of starvation and fatal disease, I was a little skeptical- perhaps even defensive. How could a girl in her early twenties truly be a mom to all those kids? I mean, I have trouble truly loving my tiny brood of three most days. I thought she must have been more like a teacher at an orphanage school or a den mom at a girl's home than a real mom. But by the second half of the book, I saw; no, I felt her mother's heart for her girls. And I saw what it looks like to be genuinely yielded to God, and filled to overflowing with his Spirit of love. Davis recognized what God wanted from her and quickly responded to it. In return, he brought out the best in her. I'm not going to give away more of the plot because I want you to read this book. For my fellow Hoptowners, it will be at the library this weekend after I return it :).

Review of "Seeing is Believing" by Greg Boyd

I was interested in Greg Boyd's Seeing is Believing: Experience Jesus through Imaginative Prayer in part because I enjoyed Boyd's thoughtfulness in his other writings, but also because I've been sensing I need to go deeper in my prayer life lately. Boyd's premise is that using our imaginations while communing with and resting in Christ is not dangerous, fanciful or juvenile as Westerners are conditioned to think. Instead, our imagination is actually the way we behold Christ and reflect Him from one degree of glory to the next (2 Cor 3:18). Likewise, Boyd argues we can only really know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 4:6) by using our imagination to envision Him. Creating a mental image, and fleshing it out as completely as possible by using all five senses, Boyd argues, is essential for transformation. It is our feelings that influence our actions far more than mental knowledge. A vivid memory of our experience shapes us more than a memorized list of information.

Perhaps because I grew up in a church tradition that mistrusted both feelings and the imagination as vain, self-serving, and fleshly, I still feel some trepidation exercising my own imagination in prayer times. Boyd calls these times "resting in Christ," in contrast to the deceptive, try-harder, hide-your-faults mode that many of us instinctively perform during prayer.

So what does this actually look like? 
Boyd recommends using a form of "cataphatic spirituality" (you can Google it) in order to retreat to an inner sanctuary with Jesus where the words of scripture come alive with vivid sights, sounds, feelings and even aromas and flavors if possible. On page 98, Boyd describes how transformation by the renewing of the mind can take place while experiencing the truth of 1 Corinthians 6:19, that we are a temple of God because we're indwelt by His Spirit:

"...imagine in vivid detail what you look, sound, and feel like when you perfectly manifest this truth. Run it through your mind like a virtual-reality movie in which you are the main actor.  Experience yourself incarnating this truth 'with all five senses.' Ask the Holy Spirit to help you accurately and vividly play out scenarios in your mind that reflect real-life situations in which you typically feel the most empty or powerless. Only now see yourself in these situations perfectly manifesting God's truth that you are a walking, talking version of Solomon's temple, filled with all of God's glory!"

Boyd instructs Christians to take every thought and memory captive by running imagination "movies" with different verses that declare the reality of who we are in Christ. What the Bible says about believers looks starkly different than how the world sees us and how we usually view ourselves. To this, Boyd says: "Take it on faith that the you who responds to situations in ways that manifest the truth that you are a temple of God, filled with God's love, joy, and peace, is the real you. Commit to seeing yourself as God sees you, regardless of how it feels" (99).

Beyond claiming Bible truths, Boyd uses imaginative prayer to help believers heal from painful experiences, such as abuse or great loss, by instructing believers to revisit their painful memories and envision Jesus in those situations with them. Over time and repeated re-plays of the memory, Christians can undo the deceptive message and replace it with a more freeing one.

My take-away:
I love the idea of really visualizing what scripture says about who we are. Bridging the disconnect until my default conception of myself comes into line with God's view makes so much sense.

The last three chapters of the book describes three people for whom imaginative prayer was a way to heal deep wounds from the past. While this was interesting, I felt the examples had such dramatic and traumatic childhoods that I really couldn't apply the examples to my own largely happy upbringing. It's not that I don't have memories or experiences that have contributed to a deceptive mindset, but I'm not entirely convinced my petty little memories of disappointment or rejection are "big" enough to devote to this process of re-working through imaginative prayer.

Overall, this book opened me up to what seems just a fragment of the huge body of various prayer practices within Christian tradition. I'm excited to keep exploring!

Feedom of Simplicity: A Money Experiment

As I mentioned Sunday, I wanted to take some time to mention some of Foster's specific proposals for living a simpler, more God-centered life. I was surprised how specific he got in the second half of the book. Indeed, Foster himself cautions readers not to seize on any of his proposals as rules by which to judge or control others. He warns against "our tendency to turn any expression of our simplicity into a new legalism. How quickly we calcify what should always remain alive and changing." Yet, in his defense, the author says that to resist laying down any practical guidelines means we reinforce the legalism of the status quo. New Testament writers like the apostle Peter felt the liberty to address issues of their time and culture (braided hair and fancy robes anyone?) as excesses unbecoming for a Christian. Just as Peter spoke to particulars of his day, "our task is to discern what constitute ostentatious elitism today, and speak to that situation" and to "walk the narrow path of precision without legalism."

I thought I could just clack out a round up of practical tips I gleaned from this book, but I've been working on this post for a couple of hours now (with numerous interruptions from the littles) and I think I might just have to digest this book more gradually over several posts. Foster launches a discussion of specific financial steps we can take toward simplicity with the topic of voluntary poverty. This was a little jarring, even from where I sat reading in my modest starter home and stained decade-old sofa. Foster said that choosing to live with nothing was akin to pulling off the Band-Aid all at once. It hurts, but then once you're free of possessions, you don't really have to think about what to keep or give away. Simplicity, right? Of course, this lifestyle, adopted by Francis of Assisi and Mother Teresa, needs to be born out of a specific calling from God. So, for the rest of us, Foster proposes:

A tiny experiment in voluntary poverty that many of us could do with genuine profit as God prompts us. We can go through our home, find one possession that we value, and consider, "Am I growing too attached to this object? Is it becoming a treasure to me?" Having examined our hearts before the Lord, let us give it away. We must not rationalize by saying, "But after searching my heart I know that it is clearly not a treasure to me, and so I don't need to give it away." If it is truly not our treasure, we will not mind in the least giving it away; and if it has become our treasure, we will want to give it away for our soul's sake. Also we will pray for the person who receives our little gift, that it will be a blessing, and not a hindrance, to his or her walk with God.

So, my immediate thought is that this little experiment, if applied to everything we own, would ultimately lead to voluntary poverty as every item we own is either a treasure to be severed or not a treasure and therefore easy to give a way! But I decided to try it anyway.

 A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a review of Becoming, the magazine Bible for women, and mentioned that I planned to give it away. Well, I'm ashamed to say it has sat on a little table in my living room ever since. It is clearly not a treasure to me, and yet, I never took deliberate steps to give it away, as I felt moved to do! Happily, my good friend, Tracey, is coming over after work to pick up the bible and bring it to jail with her, where she ministers to women hungry for God. I'm praying that this magazine, thick with simple articles and scripture, will feed one or many women-- I believe that the Spartan environment in the jail makes many of them hungry to read.



So, my next tiny "experiment" is a little different. I've decided to forgo buying Stephen's kindergarten pictures. I take tons of photos of all three of my sons, many of which can be seen on one of my other blogs, The Daily Munchie. I was filling out the envelope for the photos, due today no less, when I realized that I don't have to purchase a photo package. It's not a sign I don't love my son or want to capture memories of him at each milestone. And my relatives won't love me any less if I give them candid shots of my sons instead of the posed, somewhat awkward portrait the professional took. Now, don't get me wrong, I like to support local businesses and believe that artists, like portrait photographers, do important work. But I decided to listen this time and to get into the "divine Center," and I found out I don't need to possess those photos after all.