the weblog of Alan Knox

Comment Highlights for Week of March 20, 2011

Posted by on Mar 26, 2011 in comment highlights | Comments Off on Comment Highlights for Week of March 20, 2011

Comment Highlights for Week of March 20, 2011

As I mentioned in the first post in this series, I want to highlight some of the comments that have been left on my blog posts during the past week. Hopefully, this will give more visibility to some of the reasons that I love blogging – dialog and interaction.

Tom left this great comment on my post “Adorn the doctrine of God“:

When we call ourselves Christians, we are saying that we are God’s children, being conformed to Christ’s image. We’re saying that our character looks something like God’s character. By implication, we’re also saying that God’s character looks something like ours!

If we call ourselves God’s children but live like the Devil’s, we are most definitely blaspheming, dragging God’s holy name through the mud, taking His name in vain (that is, to no good purpose).

For this reason I think we ought to be very careful not only of how we live, but also of who we give the name Christian to. The world takes notice when we call another person or group Christian.

Which is worse? To hurt some people’s feelings by requiring evidence before applying God’s name to them? Or to blaspheme our all-glorious Creator, Saviour, and King by always giving “the benefit of the doubt”?

(The evidence being, of course, the kind of “doctrine” Paul describes in Titus 2.)

Duchessdad became a new commenter this week. This is his comment on my post “He’s found a senior pastor.” (Unfortunately, we probably all know people who demand that we call them by certain titles.):

Great discourse. I knew a pastor of a small congregation who was the only “staffer” on the payroll. He wanted to be called the “Sr. Pastor”. Since we had no Jr Pastor, it seemed somewhat asinine. This was all on top of being founded on the basis of “Plurality of Elder-ship”. When one foolishly believes it all rides on your own shoulders, then the outcome is dismal.

Jeremy left this great example of a story while commenting on my post “Narrative, Storytelling, and Discipleship:”

One day a rabbit was digging a hole. A turtle walked by and asked, “Are you digging a new home?”

“Nope,” replied the rabbit. “Just digging a hole.”

“Are you going to plant carrots in it?” pressed the turtle.

“Nope,” replied the rabbit. “Just digging a hole.”

“Are you going to bury something, or hide a treasure?”

“Nope,” replied the rabbit. “Just digging a hole.”

Now the turtle got upset. “Why won’t you tell me what you are doing! I know that you are not just digging a hole. So tell me what you are doing.”

The rabbit stopped digging and looked at the turtle. “I like to dig holes. It’s what God made me for. Can’t I dig a hole just for the fun of it?” And with that, the rabbit went back to digging.

The turtle shook his head, and as he walked off, muttered to himself, “Why can’t rabbit ever answer a simple question?”

And, of course, Rick offered this comment (which also included a story) on my post “When I can’t keep up:”

God may not require more of us than we can handle, but he certainly offers us more, far more. Gluttony is not just a temptation down at the Golden Corral buffet, it faces us when we look around at all the things that we could be doing to build the kingdom. Just because God sets our table abundantly does not mean we need to eat it all—better to take sensible portions, and then concentrate on cleaning our plate.

One of my favorite anecdotes comes from an Episcopal priest who in his early 20s was faced with two very good, very important opportunities to serve, one with a local parish and one at a mission in Mexico. He had long worked with both communities, and loved them both. He saw wonderful potential in both, and key contributions he could make in both places. He agonized for months over the choice.

One day he was walking down a path, crying out to God for guidance and clarity in making the right decision: here or Mexico? Suddenly he heard God’s voice, clear as a bell, saying, “Homer, I don’t care!” He laughed, decided to lighten up, chose Mexico just because it was more exotic and likely to be fun, and then went on with his very productive life.