All posts by Timmy Horng

The First Word

February 14, 2018 Timmy Horng Leave a comment

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Luke 23:34

1. “Father…”

How often do we respond to God with resentment when we don’t get our way? Even in the midst of a gruesome public death, Jesus continues to call God “Father.” Filled with anguish, Jesus petitioned God to remove the cup of death and suffering looming before him (Lk. 22:42-44). Yet God’s response was not the one Jesus desired. Still, Jesus does not let this stand in the way of his relationship with the one he calls “Father.” Even in the worst of situations, he affirms the goodness of our God.

2. “…forgive them…”

When beset by our own suffering and pain, how often is our first thought for the people around us? It seems appropriate that Luke’s account renders Jesus’s first words on the cross as a petition for the forgiveness of others. After all, what is the cross if not a symbol of God’s working for us? Still, it is striking that we find in such an agonizing image God’s word to us that we are forgiven.

3. “…for they know not what they do.”

Who is the “they” that Jesus prays for in his petition? Likely, “they” are the Roman soldiers who drove nails through his body and the Roman authorities who condoned it. “They” probably also includes the Jewish leaders who demanded his execution and the Jews in the crowd cheering for his death. An act at the height of injustice, the image of God on the cross is somehow accompanied with words that long for the forgiveness of those who perpetrated it. Apparently, forgiveness can come even to those who put God on a cross.

It is telling that we find Jesus’s petition for their forgiveness at the symbolic moment of man’s rejection of God. Clearly, these words together with the image of the crucifix demonstrate God’s willingness to be for us. Jesus does not define those who execute him by their actions; instead, he sees them as those whom God loves, finding space for God’s forgiveness to move.

Here, we remember Jesus’s famous words: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (Lk. 5:27-28). Just as startling a contrast as Jesus’s cry for the forgiveness of those who unjustly execute him, loving our enemies is the way we proclaim God’s kingdom. It is the way God accomplishes justice and moves through the sin we find rampant in humanity. Can we see our enemies as the very ones for whom Jesus cries out for forgiveness? In The End of Memory, Miroslav Volf writes, “The memory of the Passion urges — indeed, obligates — me to place the memory of suffered wrong in the service of reconciliation” (125). When we allow the image of Christ on the cross to define our actions, we find the grace of God in our own wounds. May we be strengthened by the words of Jesus to welcome the love of God into the lives of those he has forgiven.

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Practicing Presence: Seeing God through the Sunrise

December 9, 2016 Timmy Horng Leave a comment

The chill of the morning wind rakes against your cheeks. You look out, but there isn’t much to see, only darkness. You almost don’t notice the sky turning from black to shades of dark blue, but then you start to make out the soft edges of the mountains and the trees pressed against the skyline. Your eyes are drawn to a point on the horizon where hues of red are starting to peek over. You stay fixated on the point as you witness a changing of the guard. The clouds are now painted with oranges and yellows, and the sky glows with splashes of color. As the haze gives way to the sun, the pastel colors are brushed from the sky and light fills the landscape.

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it, I see everything else.” – C.S. Lewis

1. God is how we see the world

One of the goals of Christian discipline is to see the world in the ways God sees it. There’s no doubt that we live in a broken world in need of restoration. Yet like the sunrise, God reveals beauty in the darkest places. It’s true that the light of the sunrise doesn’t penetrate every corner, just as we continue to live in a world where sin still holds power. But part of playing witness to the kingdom of Heaven is to reveal the loving and saving mercy of our God in places shrouded by shadow, even if we can’t fully eliminate the darkness. Like David Foster Wallace said in his 2005 commencement speech at Kenyon College, “The obvious and most important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about.” It is difficult to see God in places marred by tragedy or in people who annoy us, but this is often when we need God’s presence the most.

2. God is always there, even when we don’t see him

When you watch the sunrise, you feel like you’re witnessing something amazing, especially when you’re surrounded by natural splendor. Your eyes tell you that you’re witnessing a once-in-a-lifetime event, and it actually feels like that until you realize that this phenomenon happens every day. This is a reminder that God is always doing new and amazing things in the world. Even when we don’t feel it, his presence is there, waiting for us. If we’re too busy, held by the distractions of our material world, we will miss it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there each and every day.

3. God’s presence is often found in the silence

I’ve noticed that one of the biggest reasons I prefer the sunrise over the sunset is the quiet reverence that accompanies sunrise viewings. Even though it’s entirely unnecessary, everyone whispers, and most people don’t even speak. Of course, the crowds are much smaller early in the morning, but I also think that the people willing to get up for it are ones who see the world with a greater sense of wonder. There’s an unspoken agreement to preserve the quiet awe in the atmosphere. When the sun rises, filling the air with light and warmth, there’s almost a palpable feeling that God’s presence is filling you from the inside out. As I’ve often discovered, when we are silent, listening, and drawn away from our busy schedules, this is when we hear the Spirit speaking to us.

4. It takes effort and desire

On a recent trip to Yosemite with folks from Christ Kaleidoscope, I tried to get everyone up for a sunrise. There was little urgency, and we definitely got out the door later than I had wanted. While rounding a corner on our way to Tunnel View, there was a brief moment when we could see between the mountains, catching a glimpse of the horizon. There were deep reds and oranges flooding the sky right above Half Dome. But by the time we reached our destination, it was too late.

It takes effort and desire to get up for the sunrise. Two of the best sunrises I’ve witnessed both required waking up around 4 A.M. in an unfamiliar time zone and driving almost two hours to wait in below freezing temperatures. There was certainly the temptation to slap the alarm off and say, “there’s always next time,” but my desire to see the sunrise emerged the victor. Similarly, seeing the world through God’s eyes and feeling his presence with us at all times requires discipline. We have to deny the desire to curl back into our beds and get out the door. However, in order to do so, we have to change our minds about what’s important to us. Through practices like reading scripture, praying, fasting, serving, and worshipping, we shape our desires and consequently, the outward actions of our lives. No, it doesn’t come easy. We have to be willing to deny convenience, comfort, and pleasure, push these things aside, and make space for God’s presence in our lives. But like getting up for the sunrise, it’s definitely worth it.

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Conversation #2: Desires

February 18, 2016 Timmy Horng Leave a comment

There was a saying popular among me and my closest high school friends whenever we did something outrageous. It was our universal explanation for the inexplicable. Accidentally suicide in Super Smash Bros.–”I do what I want!” Attempt a half-court shot in a 5-on-5 basketball game–“I do what I want!” Out of nowhere, punch a friend in the nuts–“I do what I want!”

This terribly self-indulgent, but terribly fun, practice came from a 2002 episode of South Park that I do not recommend watching. In it, Cartman goes on the talk show Maury, pretending to be an out-of-control teen in order to win a prize. In order of atrociousness: “I had sex without protection; it’s my hot body–I do what I want!” “I slaughtered five baby seals with my bare hands this morning–I do what I want!” “I digitally put Jabba the Hut back into the original Star Wars movie–I do what I want!”

The scenarios above seem outrageous, but if we take a step back and strip down our actions, “I do what I want” is at the base of almost everything we do. Even something as simple as choosing what to eat for breakfast can be boiled down to the question: “what do I want?” Is it convenience? McDonald’s. Is it health? Oatmeal. Is it time? Nothing. Is it pleasurable taste? Small children.

(That was a joke.)

The question of desire is especially apparent when we find ourselves in the tension between immediate and future consequences. In most cases, the more immediate gratification wins the race. (How many of us have procrastinated and then severely regretted it at the end?) However, somewhere along the line of our lives, we’ve also been taught to play for delayed rewards. We do things that we don’t want to do because we want what comes later even more. The most familiar examples are studying and exercising. We don’t want to do these things, but we want the future benefits we think they will bring us. One way or another, we are still following the maxim, “I do what I want.”

Therefore, it is important for us to consider how desire motivates our actions. Living in a world that is constantly vying for our desires, we need to carefully examine our habitual actions. We shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking private actions like watching pornography or indulging in sweets aren’t a big deal. They have the devastating ability to enslave us to gratifying our immediate desires.

Desires is a subject especially relevant for those of us who are fasting through Lent. As often happens, “who’s going to know?” or “what’s the big deal?” pop into my head during this season. However, when they have, it’s helped to ask myself, “what is it that I really want?” This is why I think it’s a great practice to physically write down the desires that we wish were more central to our lives. Going back to the lookbook and seeing the words “to affirm one another” “to pray more,” “to be more present in the community” is more than just a reminder. It is one of our first lines of defense against a world that is constantly bombarding our attention with advertisements, both overt and subliminal. It is a billboard of the ways the Holy Spirit is working in us. It is a prayer that says, “God, make it so that when ‘I do what I want,’ it is what you want, too.”

Formation

Conversation #1: Formation Happens!

January 26, 2016 Timmy Horng Leave a comment

This is a reflection on Study One of the Ekklesia Project's Getting Your Feet Wet Series. This post covers Conversation #1: Formation Happens!

by Tim Horng

In Richard Curtis’s 2013 film About Time, Tim Lake does what every ordinary, principled human being would do with the power to travel through time: take a mulligan on all the mistakes he’s made in life. We’ve all wished we could get a second chance at all of the humiliating gaffes we’ve made, and it’s a lot of envious fun to follow Tim’s journey. He learns something about everything and eventually becomes confidently able to do virtually anything he wants, from winning over his crush to dealing with life’s greatest tragedies. Among the things he learns are two universal lessons about living that I think closely apply to our discussion of Christian formation. Hopefully, without spoiling too much…

LESSON #1: It takes practice.

When we first meet Tim, he’s dreadfully unsure about every action he makes. However, every time he screws up, he analyzes his missteps, hits the rewind button, and revises his life story (often multiple times). In Tim’s first foray into romantic pursuit, the stunning and playful Charlotte presents our protagonist with a bottle of sunscreen and a boy’s summer dream: “Tim. Will you do my back?” Of course, he makes an absolute wreck of it the first time around. His overexcited hands are shaky and cold, and the lotion erupts out of the bottle, spilling all over the place. It’s in her bikini. It’s in her hair. Thankfully, a humiliating run back into the house, a quick clench of the fists, and a few seconds later, he’s back in the game. This time, however, he’s a pro.

Unfortunately, merely being Christian doesn’t grant us the luxury of traveling in time. However, just like Tim’s character, becoming “little Christs” takes repetition and disciplined practice. We all know that the number of Christ-like attributes I have can be counted on one hand (or maybe just one, small pinky finger), but I also know these microscopic specks of Christ can at least be partially traced to the disciplines we’ve exercised at church. Two of the most formative Sunday Worship practices for me have been silence and confession. These two repeated actions have made increasing room for the Spirit to instill a habit of patient reflection, something that has undoubtedly tempered my naturally rash and critical tendencies.

Obviously, this kind of formation requires playing the long game.

However, we live in a world that serves instant gratification like a drug, and we love hearing stories of fast, dramatic transformation. While the Spirit is certainly capable of such, I feel that we often underestimate the sustained power of disciplined practice.

LESSON #2: It takes noticing.

After a lifetime of time travel, Tim’s dad has been through it all, and armed with the secrets to happiness, he gives his son a two-part suggestion. First, get on with ordinary life. So Tim does as he normally does. At work, his best friend gets chewed out by their boss, and he just sheepishly looks down at the table. At the store, the cashier rings him up, they exchange pleasantries, and he hastily pays before rushing out the door. In court, the jury declares his defendant “not guilty,” and he simply breathes a sigh of relief.

Then, part two of his dad’s plan: relive the same day almost exactly the same, but this time noticing how sweet the world can be. On this second go-around, Tim pokes fun at his boss and keeps his best friend in good spirits.
He notices the cashier’s upbeat smile, and he has a genuine interaction with her before leaving the store. In court, he sees how happy his defendant is at the decision and hugs him, sharing in his joy.

At the end of the day, he has gone through the exact same events as the first time around, but noticing has given him an entirely different persona.

Like Tim on his first day, too frequently, we go through our routines and end the day without a firm grasp of the hours and minutes of our lives. But also, just like Tim on his second day, we can increase our awareness of formation by noticing. Notice what makes us, and the people around us, tick. Notice what makes us laugh, smile, cry, and fume.

Notice when we desire something, and notice when God is present or absent (seemingly) in our lives.

Then, consider formation:

Where did these feelings, thoughts, and actions come from?

For me, these two lessons go hand-in-hand. Spiritual disciplines such as silence and confession have greatly helped me notice and consider. This has given my day-to-day life greater purpose and scope, and I feel I have come to a better understanding of the constant battles over the formation of my life. Doing this and then reminding myself of those words in Isaiah 64, “we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand,” has unquestionably been the springboard to some of the most fruitful and noticeable growth in my spiritual character.

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