“January is widely held to be the bugbear of local food, but the hungriest month is March, if you plan to see this thing through. Your stores are dwindling, your potatoes are sending pale feelers out into the void, but for most of us there is nothing new under the sun of muddy March, however it might intend to go out like a lamb. A few spring wildflowers, maybe, but no real eats. Our family was getting down to the bottom of our barrel” (322).

When I take my almost daily walks, it doesn’t look like spring will ever come. The grass is dank and yellowed and it’s hard to imagine it will ever be lush and green or that the trees will ever have blossoms and leaves. If you really do live off the land and what you have to eat is all in your freezer and root cellar, you have to be creative with what you have left. The root veggies of winter are wrinkled and woody and the asparagus, lettuce, and spinach of spring are only just beginning. It’s an awkward, in-between time.

I’m definitely in the thick of my Lenten discipline of fasting from dessert. We’re already almost five weeks from Ash Wednesday, but we’re still two weeks from Easter. For one deprived of sugar on a daily basis, Easter seems especially distant. If I’m honest with myself, I am longing for Easter, but I also like that Easter feels distant and that my deprivation weighs on me and temptation surrounds me. These are the necessary and even, dare I say, good rigors of Lent. I love that the Church Year acknowledges the times in the course of a normal human life that are in limbo. It’s not winter and not yet spring. It’s not Christmas and not yet Easter. Primroses on racks outside the grocery store and royal purple crocuses are the only harbingers of spring.

That makes me wonder about the harbingers of Easter. When we look to Jesus’ life and ministry, I would say baptism, temptation, cross, and grave. The road ahead of us to Easter is Lenten and is so very like this time between winter and spring. Where there is life after Easter and spring, we see only death during Lent. Yellowed grass and gnarled trees. Temptation and deprivation. Sin and selfishness.

But the great news about Easter is that it radically changes everything, and it’s not just the appearance of things that change. It’s not just that the grass becomes green and lush and the trees bud and the flowers bloom. It’s not just that I can once again eat cookies and ice cream. It’s that our very nature changes.

“We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ…for when we died with Christ [in baptism] we were set free from the power of sin. And since we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him” (Romans 6:6-8).

Temptation gives way to victory. Darkness becomes light. Death leads to life. And, best of all, the crucified Christ becomes the Risen Christ.

For three weeks, Olive Tree employees brought their gifts in, some wrapped and some unwrapped, and piled them around the Christmas tree in the Olive Tree kitchen. By the end of the three weeks, we had quite the stack of presents!

This morning, two men from the Tree of Sharing organization came to pick up the gifts. Several of us helped them carry the gifts out into the gently falling snow to a car that would deliver the gifts to the families and individuals.

In this Christmas season, it has been such a blessing for me and the other Olive Tree employees to follow Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew: “I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!” (25:40). Praise God that Christmas reminds us to give with bold generosity as we pattern our lives after the King of Kings who “though he was God, did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being” (Phil. 2:6-7) and “so the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only son” (John 1:14).

Praise be to Emmanuel, God With Us!

Question of the Day: Does your family or workplace have a giving tradition at Christmas? Tell us about it.

Eight feet!

To make our point, we thought we’d take these photos to show you what you’re not carting around in your backpack by buying the Word Biblical Commentary through Olive Tree! We also did a sneaky little calculation for you. If you bought each volume of the commentary set individually for $49.99, you’d spend $2949.41, so thank goodness for eBooks, right?

To top it off, this is a widely-acclaimed commentary set written by leading scholars. Each individual volume offers detailed analysis of the text in the framework of biblical theology. This is an exceptional resource for pastors, professors, students, and everyone who loves studying God’s Word.

The $299.99 sale price for the commentary set is available only through OliveTree.com (not in-app) from Tuesday, November 13 through the end of the day Monday, November 19. Grab this awesome commentary set while you can!

***

Isaiah 3:10: “Tell the righteous it will be well with them, for they will enjoy the fruit of their deeds.”

It is well with the righteous always. If Isaiah 3:10 had said, “Tell the righteous that it is well with him in his wealth,” we should have been thankful for so great a help. Wealth is dangerous, and it is a gift from heaven to be secured from its snares. If it had been written, “It is well with him when persecuted,” we should have been thankful for so sustaining an assurance, because persecution is hard to bear. But when no time is mentioned, all time is included.

God’s “shall” must be understood always in the largest sense. From the beginning of the year to the end of the year, in all conditions and under all circumstances, it shall be well with the righteous. It is so well with him that we could not imagine it to be better. He is well-fed, because he feeds on the body and blood of Jesus; he is well-clothed, because he wears the imputed righteousness of Christ; he is well-housed, because he dwells in God; he is well-married, because his soul is in union with Christ; he is well-provided for, because the Lord is his Shepherd and heaven is his inheritance.

Beloved, if God declares that all is well, ten thousand demons may declare it to be ill, but we laugh at them all. Blessed be God for a faith that enables us to believe God when the creatures contradict Him. The Word says it is at all times well with you, righteous one. Believe it on divine authority more confidently than if your eyes and your feelings told it to you. Whom God blesses is blessed indeed, and what He declares is truth most sure and steadfast.

***

Keep an eye out for the Olive Tree daily devotional, it should be available on OliveTree.com very soon!

Unfortunately, my parents are too smart for excuses. As soon as the breakfast dishes were in the dishwasher, we drove to a local car shop where my car had had some repair work the year before. When we discovered the shop wasn’t open on Saturdays, my parents made me promise that I would call and make an appointment, which I did a week and a half later.

After work one day this week, I drove to the shop and feigned confidence as I told them what work I wanted on my car: “I’d like an oil change and a general checkup before the winter.”

“Can do,” said the car shop’s owner. He was an older man, gentle of voice and demeanor with a full white beard and mustache. I settled into a wooden chair in the small, dusty room and furtively watched as the owner interacted with other customers. He knew customers by name and took professions of “I hope this won’t cost too much!” with a calm nod of his head.

I was starting to feel good that I had managed to take care of my car when the owner came in half an hour after I arrived.

“When was the last time you changed your oil?”

I squirmed in my seat. I could have listed my excuses, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Your oil was really low,” he cautioned. “You need to bring it in sooner next time. We’ll put a sticker on your car for you so you know when to bring it in next time.”

Chastised, I paid him, hopped in my car and drove off. At a light, I looked up at the sticker on my windshield and saw this admonition: “Check your oil!”

Why had I procrastinated so long on getting my oil changed? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I don’t do this with just my car. There are lots of little daily duties that I put off with excuses. I’m too tired to clean the bathroom. I’m sure the rain will soon water the lawn. My housemates will empty the dishwasher.

The more disturbing thing is that I also apply such excuses to my spiritual life. I read my Bible half asleep. I hold onto grudges. I let distractions flood my mind while praying. I simply don’t pray.

Procrastinating on changing my oil is an outward manifestation of an inward spiritual problem. The more I think about it, the more I think the root of the problem is a word that my History of Christianity professor taught me: acedia (ah-k-dee-ah). Acedia is a Latin word that finds its roots in the monastic world and denotes a kind of sloth or carelessness. Monks suffering from acedia would become restless with the rhythms of work and prayer in the monasteries and were said to suffer from the “noonday demon.” What starts out as a small problem—not changing my car’s oil or restlessness—can become a much bigger problem: a burned-out engine or a monk who forsakes the holy calling of pursuing Christ.

But now that I can check “changing car’s oil” off my to-do list, it’s time to tackle something else. For a start, I could use the Olive Tree Bible Study app on my new Kindle Fire and start not just reading the Bible as a rote routine, but actually engaging with the text and applying it to my life. (Yes, I’m that technophobe.)

Nike’s slogan has something to it. Just do it. Sometimes we just have to do the routine things of life in order to keep the car running, the house clean, and our minds and hearts steeped in the Word of God. And when we start to slip up, one thing is sure: God has no qualms about reminding us and sometimes with a well-placed exclamation point.

“Check your oil!”

Chime in! Which everyday chores do you procrastinate? Do you think it’s a form of acedia? What can you do to combat acedia in your own life?

**To keep me accountable to overcoming my procrastination tendencies, I am committing to read a chapter from the Gospel of Mark in my Bible Study app every day for the next 16 days. When I’m finished with all 16 chapters, I’ll be back with a blog to share my insights from reading Mark. You’ll be able to keep me accountable!

Today, Andrea gives insight into how individuals and churches can help those who doubt and explains how doubt has enriched her life. Catch the first part of the interview here.

Throughout the process of your leaving and returning to the church, what role did your family and close friends play? How can those with a close friend or family member struggling with doubt be helpful?

During my own faith crisis, people gave me space to pray that “prayer of unbelief.” My dad sat on the couch and talked with me about my doubts. College professors took me out to coffee. Friends listened to my questions without giving cheap, easy answers. They modeled the church at its best – a place of stark honesty and shared pilgrimage.

For those of you who have a close friend or family member struggling with doubt, here are a few thoughts:

1. Spend time listening. Take their questions seriously. Pilgrim with them. Feel free to share your opposing views, but do so in a gracious, peaceful (rather than antagonistic) spirit.
2. Stay in community with them. Assure them of your unconditional love. If they sense that your relationship with them is contingent on the outcome of their struggle, they will trust you less and confide in you less.
3. Be open about the struggles you’ve had in the past. If you’ve entertained doubts, share about that experience. Be candid about your own story, whether it’s resolved or unsolved.
4. Try not to react. Give them time and space. Remember that doubt can be a healthy, truth-seeking, soul-searching part of faith. Tim Keller writes in The Reason for God, “A faith without some doubts is like a human body without any antibodies in it.”

What advice would you give to a church who wants to be a welcome place for those who aren’t sure about faith? Tell us about a church in your life in which you’ve been free to bring your struggles and doubts.

At the time that I left the church, I was 23 years old and more interested in “the search” than I was interested in answers. So in that sense, I believe doubt can be used as permission for perpetual non-commitment. The church should be wary of that. If a church works too hard to make room for doubt, the congregation might end up forfeiting its convictions and falling prey to “theological mush.”

On the other hand, I do believe that it’s better to actively question faith—in a spirit of seeking the truth—than it is to passively accept the doctrines and enigmas of Christianity. Anger at God is healthier than indifference toward God. In that sense, I think it’s imperative that a church body make room for people struggling with faith and doubt. Without that space for deep questions, the church risks becoming flat, staid, and lifeless.

When we first started attending our current church, the pastor’s wife said to me, “I struggled with doubt and darkness for a long time.” In a very strange way, my heart leapt when she said that. I thought to myself, Okay, this is a church where I can feel at home. This is a church where questions and doubts are welcomed and understood.

How do you see the Bible and Christian thinkers addressing doubt?

In Mark 9:24, the father of a demon-possessed child says to Jesus, “I believe, help my unbelief.” Flannery O’Connor calls this the foundation prayer of faith. I couldn’t agree with her more. Active doubt (as opposed to passive skepticism) can be a vital, soul-searching part of faith. All we have to do is open up the books of Job, Lamentations, and the Psalms to realize that doubt has been an integral part of the human experience and the Christian experience for thousands of years. I also take great comfort in the fact that many great saints of Christian history—Mother Teresa and others—went through a “dark night of the soul” for years and sometimes for a lifetime. I’m not alone.

How has your journey of doubt enriched your life now? Outside of your book’s influence, has God given you opportunities to encourage others with your story?

As I correspond with readers, I’ve been surprised by the diversity of people who seem to resonate with the story: college students trying to figure out faith, retirees reflecting back on their own stories, and people in life stages in between. Even readers with no religious affiliation have connected with the book somehow. Recently, a young woman sent me a long letter in which she described herself as a “worn out theist” who felt like the book “offer[ed] solidarity in the ongoing struggle of the human condition.” This book is written for her, for anyone on a spiritual journey, and for anyone who’s ever wrestled with questions of doubt, faith and belief in God.

I hope readers like her come away carrying one simple but livable insight: that doubt has a place inside faith and inside the church. In my own journey, I left the church burdened by questions, but eventually realized that those same questions actually belonged in the sanctuary. They only made sense inside of a theistic framework. Sitting in church one day after years of struggle, I thought, “Okay, I’ll call this place home. I’ll bring my doubt. I’ll wait for God in this space.” Even now, this idea of “bringing my demons to church” – as I call it in the book – challenges me to stick it out in Christian community. It also gives me comfort, knowing that I don’t have to find all the answers before I can lay claim to a church pew.

My coworkers want to know: Apple or Android? Mac or PC?

I’m a Mac user. I used to be fine working with either PC or Mac, but after watching my husband with his Dell—oh, the frustration!–and after years of satisfaction with Apple products, I’m officially married to Mac.

***

We’d love your comments! Have you struggled with doubt in your life of faith? What are passages in the Bible or in other books that comfort you in times of doubt?

Check out these other articles from Andrea:

• Faith and Leadership Website (out of Duke Divinity School), entitled “A Safe Place to Doubt”
• Her.meneutics (out of Christianity Today), entitled “How To Smartly Engage With the Young Doubters in Your Midst”

Andrea Palpant Dilley grew up in Kenya as the daughter of Quaker missionaries and spent the rest of her childhood in the Pacific Northwest. Her work as a documentary producer has aired nationally on American Public Television. Her work as a writer has been published in Geez, Utne Reader and the anthology Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical, as well as online with CNN, The Huffington Post, and Christianity Today. Her memoir, Faith and Other Flat Tires: Searching for God on the Rough Road of Doubt, tells the story of her faith journey. Andrea lives with her husband and their two daughters in Austin, Texas. For more about Andrea, visit http://andreapalpantdilley.com or http://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrea-Palpant-Dilley/159447840841841

Author Andrea Palpant Dilley read several passages from her book that evening and answered audience questions in the same engaging, personable style that marks her book. Andrea’s book chronicles her struggles with doubt that led her to both leave and return to the church. I had a chance to ask Andrea questions about her journey of faith and how her experience can help churches and individuals lovingly guide fellow Christians who are also struggling with doubt.

NOTE: Check back on Tuesday, October 16 for Andrea’s advice to churches and Christian individuals about dealing with doubt.

Elizabeth: For those who haven’t read your book, give a little background to the narrative. What were the main questions you were asking of God and the other Christians around you?

Andrea: In the book, I tell a story about walking into an Episcopal cathedral in San Francisco one Sunday morning while I was in the middle of my faith crisis. I didn’t know a soul. I sat at the back of the church. When communion started, I went forward, knelt at the altar, took the sacrament, and then watched the priest stretch out his hand to bless me on my head. In that moment, I felt a strong sense of longing for God at the very same time that I felt frustrated with church and ambivalent about faith. I was struggling with a number of questions:

1. The problem of God’s hiddenness. Why isn’t God more accessible?
2. The problem of evil. Why would a good God allow suffering?
3. The problem of imperfect community. Why does the church seem so dysfunctional?

Those questions really motivated my struggle and led me to leave faith and faith community for a period of time. This book tells the story of my crisis of faith, my departure from church, and my eventual return.

Elizabeth: Why, eventually, did these doubts cause you to leave the church?

Andrea: The problem of evil was the question (or doubt) that most profoundly impacted my faith. After I graduated from college, I spent the summer nannying for a Whitworth professor, Jerry Sittser, while he was teaching at Daystar University. The Sittser kids and I volunteered each week in an orphanage in the slums of Nairobi, where we took care of AIDS babies and played with orphans. That summer I witnessed what I call “the theological paradox of Christian compassion”: on one hand, children who seemed forsaken by God, and, on the other hand, Catholic nuns acting out God’s call to bless the forsaken. At the time, I was in a really fragile place spiritually and so the dark part of that paradox – the feeling of abandonment by God – took over my heart. I came home from that experience and, in combination with other causal factors, walked away from the church for two years.

Elizabeth: As you look back on your time outside the church, what were the ways in which God was nudging you back towards faith?

Andrea: My faith crisis was driven in part by the problem of evil. Why does a good God allow suffering? Why does the world seem so unjust and messed up? After leaving the church, though, I found myself asking a different question: What does the alternative to theistic faith look like? I didn’t like the answer. In a naturalistic worldview, life is just a cosmic accident. We’re animals fighting to survive in a godless world. The notions of justice and injustice don’t mean anything. As I wrestled with faith, that vision didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t talk about justice at all without anchoring my morality in a theistic worldview. I realized that my questions belonged inside of faith rather than outside of it.

That might sound like a really nerdy answer to your question, but it’s true. These philosophical quandaries were part of what prompted me to leave the church and eventually, part of what “nudged” me back inside the sanctuary.

Elizabeth: What continues to make you stay in the church?

Andrea: I feel more at peace with my questions and more settled with faith. If my beliefs weaken on any given day, that’s okay. I still lay claim to the Christian faith and put myself in a position to ever so slowly, haltingly make my way deeper into the Christian pilgrimage. I’ve also learned how to relax and not fight so hard against faith. In simple terms, I would say I’ve learned how to lean into God’s grace. My beliefs and questions—although they matter a great deal—are not the epicenter of my faith or faith at large. God is. And ultimately, I have to believe in a God who’s humored by my confusion and loves me not in spite of but because of my honest doubts. The poet Milosz says, “The sacred exists and is stronger than all our rebellions.” I rest in that knowledge.

I attend a church in the Anglican/Episcopal tradition. Now that I’m back at church, the high church liturgy really draws out my longing in the same way that some pop music did when I was a young adult. Maybe I’m getting old and boring, or maybe I’m moving deeper into the reflective spaces of art. Art will always play a part in my faith life. I’m a very tactile person, so I find myself compelled by the ceremonial aspects of faith in practice—the liturgy, the sacraments, the music, all those embodied experiences that speak to the senses. Some people might call it false religion, focusing on icons instead of ideas. But I believe that God engages us through our bodies and through visceral experiences that draw us closer to goodness and beauty and truth.

Thanks for your great answers, Andrea!

Andrea Palpant Dilley grew up in Kenya as the daughter of Quaker missionaries and spent the rest of her childhood in the Pacific Northwest. Her work as a documentary producer has aired nationally on American Public Television. Her work as a writer has been published in Geez, Utne Reader and the anthology Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical, as well as online with CNN, The Huffington Post, and Christianity Today. Her memoir, Faith and Other Flat Tires: Searching for God on the Rough Road of Doubt, tells the story of her faith journey. Andrea lives with her husband and their two daughters in Austin, Texas. For more about Andrea, visit http://andreapalpantdilley.com or http://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrea-Palpant-Dilley/159447840841841

Image Credit: Funzu

At church, my pastor is preaching through a series of Bible passages that all have to do with roads, drawing an analogy to the life of Christian discipleship. So far we’ve learned about the journey of the Magi in Matthew 2 and the narrow gateway to God’s Kingdom in Matthew 7. Yesterday, my pastor preached about the blind beggar in Mark 10:46-52. Here’s the passage:

⁴⁶“Then they reached Jericho, and as Jesus and his disciples left town, a large crowd followed him. A blind beggar named Bartimaeus (son of Timaeus) was sitting beside the road. ⁴⁷When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus of Nazareth was nearby, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me!”

⁴⁸“Be quiet!” many of the people yelled at him.

But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

⁴⁹When Jesus heard him, he stopped and said, “Tell him to come here.”

So they called the blind man. “Cheer up,” they said. “Come on, he’s calling you!”

⁵⁰Bartimaeus threw aside his coat, jumped up, and came to Jesus.

⁵¹“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked.

“My rabbi,” the blind man said, “I want to see!

⁵²And Jesus said to him, “Go, for your faith has healed you.”

Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus down the road.”

My pastor pointed out that whenever we cry for help like Bartimaeus, God both hears and responds. James Edwards writes in his Commentary on Mark: “How remarkable that the Son of Man allows the cries of a poor and powerless person to stop him in his tracks.”

This message was a blessing for me to hear yesterday, as there are people in my life who are hurting and in need of God’s healing touch in the face of upcoming surgeries, grief at the death of a loved one, and homesickness. I am encouraged with the reminder that when I cry out to God, I will be heard.

Chime in with a comment: What are you learning about God through your reading of Scripture?

Undulatus Asperatus Cloud Formation via dt

I think they should call these ‘Stormy Sea‘ clouds, but Undulatus Asperatus sounds cool too.

What a way to show your appreciation for your pastor: The Caper.

We’re proud to call the PNW home and think you can see why in this Stunning Time Lapse Video.

The iPhone 5 maps app debacle prompts an apology from CEO Tim Cook.

Maybe you can’t pull off a huge caper, but here are some tips for Praying for Your Pastor.

Romans 8:1-2 (NKJV)

There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I work at a Bible software company.

Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

In the bubble of college two years ago, I was vaguely aware that technology existed, that some of my classmates were getting smartphones and that people actually used computers for something other than writing papers. But my mind was tied up with others things, i.e. what I was going to do after college with a Theology major and English minor.

A year and a half after graduating and 11 months after starting at Olive Tree, I purchased my first device: a brand-new Kindle Fire HD. The package arrived after work on a Monday afternoon. I saw the package on my dining room table and immediately regarded it with suspicion. What was I actually supposed to do with this thing? I sat on the couch and it sat next to me. I stared at it and it stared back.

I took the Fire to work the next day and called over my developer coworker, Ian. He couldn’t believe I hadn’t opened it yet and helped me set it up with a few quick swipes and taps. On my own, I downloaded Olive Tree’s app, found the icon in my carousel, and confidently tapped on it. I saw the green splash screen, and immediately got this message:

BibleReader has stopped working.

This is one reason why I’m a technophobe and why I would be Olive Tree Customer Support’s biggest fan.

It turns out the issue was that our office Wifi had maxed out with too many devices connected. Go figure. In due time, I had Bible+ up and running and was finally on familiar ground. I downloaded my favorite Bibles and study materials, making sure my favorite version—the NLT—was the first Bible I opened.

But I still didn’t take my Kindle Fire home with me that evening. I left my Kindle on my desk at work because of the other reason I’m a technophobe.

I’m afraid having a device would take over my life.

My life already feels too cluttered, too busy. This is mainly why I’m a technophobe. I’m not sure how to use a device well. But I quickly realized after the stare down with my Kindle Fire that avoiding technology will not solve the problem. It would be like avoiding blisters from a new pair of shoes by not wearing them.

I’m far from a Luddite. I actually think technology is a wonderful tool for God’s Kingdom work when used rightly. In fact, I work at Olive Tree because people reading the Bible, studying it, sharing it, and engaging with it via technology is compelling to me. It’s just that I’m still working out how to help my Kindle Fire be a redemptive tool for God’s Kingdom in my own life.

Any ideas?