stoma pros stoma

It's a good email...

Hello Mike,  

Please, allow me to remind you: "Haver" British usage: "to hem and haw." Scottish: "to maunder, to talk foolishly, to chatter, talk nonsense, to babble." Jewish: "a friend, chum, mate" - specifically someone willing to partner with you in grappling with truth and Word and life. Yep, I'm setting a high bar here... " I confess, out of everyone you were the man I felt I could speak to and talk with about hard sayings. Today, I must attest to the continued un-soundness I see in your reasoning at your blog. I am amazed at your gross errors as well as your refusal to engage others in debate about what you yourself have publically said. I am wondering why you never answer anyone on your blog who has challenged your words (like Concerned Citizen) or themselves made gross doctrinal errors(like Val). After all you are a pastor......aren't you?

It’s a good email from someone I won’t name, someone who knows where I am, has the number, is probably no more than a fifteen minute drive away, if that, but who has refused thus far to come over and allow a face-to-face discussion and exchange to take place – and I’m offering to buy him a cup of coffee, no less!

But it’s a great email.

It points out the context in which cyperspace interaction ultimately has to connect if it’s to be healthy. When blogging and Facebooking and emailing is done in the context of face-to-face relationship and exchanges, it can be healthy and add to those growing relationships and to a mutually shared journey of truth and faith.

Without it, it can degenerate into little more than anonymous sniping behind screen names and avatars.

It’s a great email because it offers a wonderful opportunity for truly defining this fine art of “havering.”

Havering – chattering and babbling and grappling with truth – is ultimately and ideally intended for a face-to-face setting between people who love God and truth and each other enough to actually take time to see one another and then really hear one another, thus providing the opportunity to learn from one another.

What I love about blogging this past year is the number of face-to-face conversations and discussions it has stimulated and occasioned. Conversations digging into the Word, give-and-take, iron-sharpening-iron type of conversations. What has been the greatest challenge for me has been monitoring comments. I just haven’t been able too. Some of my face-to-face conversations have referenced online conversations in the comments – which has been cool to hear about! I love that people are interacting there, but my involvement in three weekly small groups and daily conversations in the bookstore or at Starbucks (or wherever) leave me little margins for hunting for conversations among online comments that are often by anonymous people who don’t identify themselves. Whatever works for them – but I think I’ll keep choosing to invest in the face-to-face interactions – and in time actually reading the Bible and communing with the Father! For me it literally comes down to that choice.

So do I set up the blog without comments? I could figure out how to remove that feature, I suppose, but evidently some do enjoy grappling there, so I suppose I’ll leave it as is for the time being and risk the accusations of not caring about God and truth. Accusation is bad havering anyway. I suppose that’s why the enemy of all our souls is called the Accuser! Christ in us calls us higher and deeper.

So no, don’t expect me to frequent the comments. If you are commenting there to get a rise out of me or to correct me, you best email me (mike.freeman@vineyardboise.org) and then we can see about pursuing further conversation – which would hopefully be face to face if possible – and I’m buying the coffee! I feel no need to monitor the comments for gross errors – others are evidently doing that plenty already, and I’ll leave that business in their most capable hands – and in the hands of the Holy Spirit!

I will continue to choose the better part.

Stoma pros stoma.

That’s what the apostle John calls it. It literally means “mouth to mouth,” but we usually translate it in "paraphrases passing for Scripture these days" face to face.

The two shortest letters in the New Testament, in fact, the two shortest books in the entire Bible, were written by John the Beloved who made a quick end of those letters with the sentiment along these lines: “Though I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink. Instead I hope to come to you and talk face to face (stoma pros stoma), so that our joy may be complete.”

Now there’s an attitude and heart to download!

About half the New Testament (actually, the half I’ve memorized over the past 30 years) is letters (wish I’d chosen the Gospels instead back in the late 70’s!). Letters that were written, for the most part, because Paul or Peter or James or John or whoever couldn’t be there in person. They wished they could be – witness Paul’s angst over the Galatians: “Brothers, how I wish I could be present with you now and change my tone, because I am perplexed about you!”

Writing such letters was a necessity due to the writer’s physical absence – but the writing was nearly always preceded and followed up by personal, face-to-face interaction and fellowship.

To settle for anything less – or worse, to choose pen and ink or keyboard and comments – over face-to-face interaction is not only bad form and bad havering.

It is perhaps the grossest error of all.

Oh the blessing of haverim!

And when Araunah looked down, he saw the king and his servants coming on toward him. And Araunah went out and paid homage to the king with his face to the ground. And Araunah said, “Why has my lord the king come to his servant?” David said, “To buy the threshing floor from you, in order to build an altar to the LORD, that the plague may be averted from the people.” Then Araunah said to David, “Let my lord the king take and offer up what seems good to him. Here are the oxen for the burnt offering and the threshing sledges and the yokes of the oxen for the wood. All this, O king, Araunah gives to the king.” And Araunah said to the king, “May the LORD your God accept you.” But the king said to Araunah, “No, but I will buy it from you for a price. I will not offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God that cost me nothing.” So David bought the threshing floor and the oxen for fifty shekels of silver. (2 Samuel 24:20-24 ESV)

Some nice havering yesterday in our Sunday discussion.

Examining David’s motives in refusing to accept Araunah’s gift of this threshing floor…doesn’t he know how to receive a gift? Was it his own pride – he made a mess and by golly was going to pay to “clean it up”? Or was something else at work here? And does worship have to personally cost us something for it to truly be worship?

The whole discussion was for me a reminder of why reading the Bible is supposed to be a community event. Too many of us are solo reapers swinging our hermeneutical sickle into the text and “harvesting” our implications and applications very nicely on our own, thank you very much.

But the fact is we are never truly solo.

Our hermeneutical sickle has a handle shaped by others more than we realize, swung over a field we didn’t even sow along a path that has been travelled countless times before us. Our self-sufficient, American individualistic mindframe simply has to go. When we enter the Bible we are entering a community library with many volumes that have passed through many hands – authors, editors, copyists, translators, scholars. And it is meant to be received and processed through many hands joined together in a common faith and passion to hear and enter the text, to enter the story. I have met plenty of proud, self-made Bible “scholars” who have just “read the word” on their own (used to be one too!) – because, after all, that’s all it takes, right? Just me and my Bible.

But hearing the Word is a community endeavor, involving hearing and discussing, sifting and sorting, give and take. And hopefully some honest calling each other out when there’s far too much personal conjecture and say so and far too little immersion in the text and story itself.

And so back to our wee circle yesterday, with David “on the couch” as it were. What does this story say about his motives? What lessons are here about worship? After exploring various paths and suppositions, each with valid points along the way, we ended up observing together that there may be nothing more at work here than cultural conventions. Araunah may well be bargaining with David the way Ephron the Hittite bargained with Abraham over the cave of Machpelah in Genesis 23 – offering to give it freely (showing his generosity) and then proposing a fair price after the free offer was appropriately turned down. Maybe that’s what’s driving this exchange. Or maybe it’s what I have always heard “harvested” from this story: that worship and obedience are only truly worship and obedience when there’s sacrifice, only when it hurts (at least a little).

Nothing earthshattering in imporantance here, I suppose, either way.

The blessing for me – the blessing of my wonderful little Sunday morning band of haverim – is that the group discussion opened up some legitimate options based on the wider text of Scripture and it blessed me. I fell in love a little more with the Lord, with the Word, with my wee group.

Which is why we all so desperately need this kind of honest, thought- provoking, life-stimulating, face-to-face havering.

Oh the blessing of haverim…

swordplay

Abner the son of Ner, and the servants of Ish-bosheth the son of Saul, went out from Mahanaim to Gibeon. And Joab the son of Zeruiah and the servants of David went out and met them at the pool of Gibeon. And they sat down, the one on the one side of the pool, and the other on the other side of the pool. And Abner said to Joab, “Let the young men arise and compete before us.” And Joab said, “Let them arise.” Then they arose and passed over by number, twelve for Benjamin and Ish-bosheth the son of Saul, and twelve of the servants of David. And each caught his opponent by the head and thrust his sword in his opponent's side, so they fell down together. Therefore that place was called Helkath-hazzurim, which is at Gibeon. And the battle was very fierce that day. And Abner and the men of Israel were beaten before the servants of David. (2 Samuel 2:12-17 ESV)

This story has always intrigued me.

Twenty-four guys facing off with each other, simultaneously taking each other by the head and then each stabbing the other in the side in some sort of twisted choreography. The image of choreography is further underlined by the Abner’s challenge to Joab to have the young men rise up and “compete.” The Hebrew is literally “have a laugh, jest, play” (the KJV translates it “play”).

It was a deadly game that ended up spreading through the countryside in the decisive battle of Gibeon.

Looking at this through a “havering lens,” I can’t help but notice some points of instruction for havers as we grapple with truth together.

First off, it is perfectly appropriate for havers to grab each other by the head. This is, in fact, the whole point of havering. To grab each other by the head is to engage in a lively exchange of thoughts. It is passionately thinking together, with word swords flashing and clashing and sparks flying. “Iron on iron,” says the proverb, “and so a man the face of his friend.” It is in such sparring – such “playing” – that we are prepared to fight the real enemy, who is never the person standing opposite you.

We desperately need such tactile, thoughtful engagement with each other. Unfortunately, all too often we rip off ourselves and each other by refusing to do it. We settle for making mincemeat out of each other while absent. We shadow box, thrust and parry, with a missing partner, often in the safe company of sympathizers who with us imagine each crucial blow as we grapple with an invisible man’s head. But true havers don’t box shadows, they lay hands on each other.

Which leads to the second observation: grabbing each other by the head, havers don’t then thrust their swords into each other’s sides – or worse, into each other’s backs. Havers don’t assassinate each other. They don’t turn their discussion forums into sword fields. “Field of Swords” is actually the literal meaning of the name attached to that bloody place by the pool of Gibeon: Helkath-Hazzurim. Peterson calls it “Slaughter Park.” There have been far too many such parks littering the roadside of church history.

Havers, play hard. Lay hands on each other. Grab your fellow haver by the head – and keep your dagger out of his side.

But God told me...

When Saul returned from following the Philistines, he was told, “Behold, David is in the wilderness of Engedi.” Then Saul took three thousand chosen men out of all Israel and went to seek David and his men in front of the Wildgoats' Rocks. And he came to the sheepfolds by the way, where there was a cave, and Saul went in to relieve himself. Now David and his men were sitting in the innermost parts of the cave. And the men of David said to him, “Here is the day of which the Lord said to you, ‘Behold, I will give your enemy into your hand, and you shall do to him as it shall seem good to you.’” Then David arose and stealthily cut off a corner of Saul's robe. And afterward David's heart struck him, because he had cut off a corner of Saul's robe. He said to his men, “The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my lord, the Lord's anointed, to put out my hand against him, seeing he is the Lord's anointed.” So David persuaded his men with these words and did not permit them to attack Saul. And Saul rose up and left the cave and went on his way. 1 Samuel 24:1-7 ESV

There’s a proverb that says, “The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth between the mighty” (or if you prefer something more modern, “Flipping a coin can end arguments; it settles disputes between powerful opponents.”)

The word “contentions” takes us to a courtroom setting with arguments going this way and that, until (drum roll, please) someone throws a “lot.” And whether the lot was drawing straws or throwing them, or literally throwing their version of “holy dice” (urim and thummin style), casting lots was a simple appeal to the divine – since God’s sovereign presence is in everything and thus the lot’s “every decision is from the Lord.” In other words, it’s a divine trump card that settles the arguments and stops all debate.

It strikes me that that is often how “words” function in our havering. A position can be stated and defended, and then someone pulls out their own divine trump card in the form of “Well, God told me __________.” As if no further thought need be applied, no discernment attempted. Of course, if my “God told me” is countered by your “Yeah, but God told me,” we’re still left in the pickle. It’s like we’re both casting our own lots and getting different results. Too often havering de-evolves into my say so and your say so covered with a coating of “God speak” to try to win the point.

Poor havering.

This is what I hear in David’s men as they try to persuade David to take Saul out as he finishes up his business in the cave (and by the way, the Bible contains few scenes as wildly funny as this one). As Saul has his bowel movement, they want out (just what had he been eating, anyway?), they want to put an end to their time of trial, it all only makes sense. But they coat it with, “This is what God was talking about when he said, ‘Behold, I will give your enemy into your hand and you shall do to him as it shall seem good to you.’” Not trying to be legalistic or anything, but I simply can’t locate that statement anywhere. When did God say that? And when did these ruffians suddenly become such God-fearing men of the Word? It’s amazing how quickly we can wrap ourselves in the flag of whatever cause or authority when we need it to prop up our agendas.

David was convinced enough to at least crawl up to the defecating king and cut off the corner of his robe. But then he thought better of it. His conscience smote him because of a deeper realized truth (“You don’t lift up your hand against the Lord’s anointed”) that later is confirmed with an ancient proverb (“From wicked men come wicked deeds”).

It’s a good havering lesson.

It’s good to listen for God’s voice, to expect to hear from the Lord. “Despise not prophesying,” says Paul, “and don’t quench the Spirit.” But there’s more. “Test everything. Hold on to what’s good, keep away from everything that doesn’t wash (my paraphrase).” In another place he says, “You may all prophesy one by one, and let the rest discern.” In other words, in the best havering to offer “This is what I hear God saying” doesn’t end discussion, it only starts it – or restarts it. “God told me” is not a slam dunk terminating all exchange. It invites discernment, dipping into the mutually shared truth of Scripture and experience in the believing community, the contemplation of ancient proverbs – into the mix of which your “word” either adds or detracts, confirms or contradicts.

And true havers, rather than caving, will respectfully say so.

Havering in Adullam

David departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam. And when his brothers and all his father’s house heard it, they went down there to him. And everyone who was in distress, and everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was bitter in soul, gathered to him. And he became captain over them. And there were with him about four hundred men. 1 Samuel 22:1-4 ESV

David’s recipe for “church” planting:

Be labeled as a rebel.

Dodge several lethal spear chucks.

Run hard (and don’t forget the holy bread).

Develop sound “spittling” and “scrabbling” skills (know how to “go around the bend”)

Find a nice, dank cave and hide.

And just watch all the bitter, hurting malcontents flow right in!



I love this description of David’s haverim.



Would you choose a group like this? A “church” like this? Friends like this? Or would you keep looking in neighboring caves for something brighter, something more opptimistic and cheery?

David did not choose them. Ready or not, they came to him. And from these rough and hurting units no doubt arose many of David’s “mighty men” in later years. It just strikes me how backwards we can be in our search for churches, clubs, groups, and even just friendships with “beautiful people” whom we can dig and who can dig us…until it’s their nails digging into us, and then off we go. How many fights did David have to break up in that cave? How many swords were crossed, noses broken, mouths bloodied? Yet these became David’s men, and he owned them.

Perhaps the first challenge I would suggest for us in being people “after God’s heart” like David is our robust embrace of some hearty malcontents with messed up hair and messed up lives; to find our own Adullam.

What do you think?

on finding havers

Just a bit more from Ann Spangler (from Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus) on being a haver…

There’s more to being a haver than just being a Christian friend. A haver is a fellow disciple who earnestly desires to grapple with others over issues of faith – someone who wants to delve into God’s Word, to be challenged and refined. A haver is like a spiritual “jogging partner” – someone for whom you’ll crawl out of bed on a rainy morning, putting on your running shoes instead of hitting the snooze button. Once you’re up and running together, your pace is a little faster, you keep going a little longer. You are pushed intellectually and spiritually. If we really want to mature in faith and as disciples, we need to develop relationships that force us to grow, by getting ourselves some haverim…

Becoming each other’s haverim is an effective way to fulfill Jesus’ command to raise up disciples. Rather than viewing ourselves as the “rabbi” and others as our “disciples,” becoming haverim allows us to take on the role of “co-disciples.” We can help others grow by learning right alongside them.

Finding, choosing haverim…

It strikes me that Jesus chose the twelve, he handpicked his talmidim (talmid = disciple) which instantly made them havers to one another. What strikes me is that they didn’t pick their havers, Jesus did by putting them together. Even when they were paired two by two and sent out, I doubt they got to choose their partner. Perhaps this is where we go off right from the start. We go through life handpicking our haverim, and whom do we generally pick? Well, people just like us, of course! Do we gravitate towards those who challenge us, our thinking, our theology, our politics? Or do we busily, with that “like” thumbs up, “friend” those who confirm our leanings, reinforce our prejudices, and pile on in our rantings while “unfriending” those that actually think differently? I suppose that’s only natural. We all do it.

This is what we do in our offices, in our politics (what a lovely party system we have developed!), and in our churches. Charismatics cluster with Charismatics, Pentecostals with Pentecostals, Reformed people with other Reformed people, unreformed people with other unreformed people, singles with singles, youth with youth, Jews with Jews, Gentiles with Gentiles, etc etc etc. The problem is when we selectively choose the members of our own havering body, we always end up with Frankenstein (or his wonderful bride). Because left to ourselves we will always choose toadies. “Yes, tell me again how perceptive I am…tell me how wrong they are…isn’t this a wonderful little club we share..” Knave. Stayne.

Havers challenge us, annoy us, bug us, make us think, make us better. They drag us out of bed when we’d rather hit the snooze just one more time. They pull off our facades even as they call forth our muchiness. And we cannot pick these people. They find us. He brings them to us, constantly. You know who they are – they’re the ones you wish would leave.

havering through 1189

Okay, so I just got tired of waiting.

This is now the home of the blog formerly known as “Project 1189” – at least until the technical difficulties are straightened out at the WordPress site on our server. I had just gotten into Joshua when the site hiccupped and left me feeling like John the Baptist’s dad – but only mute for 6 weeks or so rather than 9 months. I actually stopped the reading and writing at that point, waiting for the site to come back. One day hopefully they’ll sort it out, but in the meantime, I’ll haver here.

As you can see from the blog header, haver has at least two layers of meaning depending on whether we’re talking about English or Hebrew – but both meanings are, I think, curiously related. The best theologian on his best day is still only hemming and hawing when compared with the vastness of God. At best, we fingerpaint when we delve into the things of God. It’s when we become impressed with our own supposed profundity that we become the most dangerous and doltish. But when we see ourselves invited to fingerpaint, to get our hands covered and messy with the things of God, we can end up creating some striking – not to mention fun – portraits.

Who would have thought that theology could be fun. If only there weren’t so many of us who in doing it end up sucking the life out of others and ourselves.

So let’s hem and haw, babble and maunder (now there’s another good word!). Friends can do that with friends; God invites us to haver with him. It was reading Ann Spangler in her book, Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus, discuss the Jewish word haver (plural haverim) as the word for “friends” or fellow students in a Jewish school (a Yeshiva). She says a haver in ordinary usage can simply mean a companion or a close friend, but in the context of seminary or school life, it is “someone who is willing to partner with you in grappling with Scripture and with the rabbinic texts.” She contrasts university libraries (or any libraries) in America with a Yeshiva library filled with havers. Our libraries are, of course, quiet. Students sit in separate cubicles or study silently at shared tables. In a Yeshiva, you are met with loud voices and gesticulations (I had to use that word!) as haverim argue and debate and, well, haver. I don’t think we know how to haver like that, at least not without our havering becoming hateful. I would suggest that to a large degree that’s because we forget we are all in the final analysis hemming and hawing and maundering with each other. It’s what Job realized about all his words when he finally encountered God – and God said he had spoken well. It was his pompous friends with all the sure answers that received the divine frowns. And then Job maundered some prayers for them.

So it is in this spirit that I once again deign to finger paint in a blog. Don’t ask me for a schedule for Project 1189 – I’m just going to move on through the Bible, picking back up in Joshua, at a leisurely pace. Hemming and hawing as opposed to a beeline. The goal isn’t the Bible in one year or two or three, but simply to read, to think, to write – to haver, to fingerpaint – however long it takes. And they’ll be other things I’ll haver about here as well. The occasional book review or excerpts, random observations and thoughts from whatever I happen to be reading, listening to, or watching.

And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be / I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you…