"At that time David was in the stronghold, and the Philistine garrison was at Bethlehem. David longed for water and said, 'Oh, that someone would get me a drink of water from the well near the gate of Bethlehem!' So the three [of thirty chiefs (v. 15)] broke through the Philistine lines, drew water from the well near the gate of Bethlehem and carried it back to David. But he refused to drink it; instead, he poured it out before the LORD." (1 Chronicles 11:16-18)
David had been on the run from Saul, hiding out in caves and deserts. Now after Saul's death, he was on the attack against Philistines in the same desert near the same caves. And, not surprisingly, David was thirsty. Far from home, he longed for the familiar water of Bethlehem. Three of his warriors decided to do something about it. They broke through Philistine lines and brought back the coveted water to quench David's thirst. David's response? He poured it out to the Lord.
Those of us from capitalist societies cringe at his wastefulness. The water came at such great sacrifice, at such enormous risk, that David could at least show his appreciation by drinking some of it! But David had a higher goal than quenching thirst. His desire was to offer the Lord whatever was most precious to him. And this water was precious. Three of his right-hand men had risked life and limb to get it, even though there were surely closer sources of water than the well at Bethlehem. They did it because they loved David. The water, therefore, was immediately one of David's most treasured possessions. And treasured possessions make the best offerings.
We could learn from that. We give generously to God at times, but we save our most treasured possessions for ourselves. The first 10 percent of our income is one thing; the precious items we secure with the rest of it are another. God loves expressions of sacrifice. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the love demonstrated. If we hold things tightly, we love less fully.
Consider the things we give God. Do we give Him not only the first of our incomes, time and talents, but also the best of them? Do the things we treasure become the things we most want to honor God with? When each of us survey our own individual domains, we will see things we hold dear and things that are expendable. Which do you give to God? Which do I give to God? Do we long to give Him what is most precious to us?
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Alone with Him
"Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed." (Luke 5:15-16)
If you've read a couple of my most recent posts, you might recognize that I've been pointing my posts more toward worship lately. The times we're alone with Christ are the times we worship Him best.
We're busy. It's a fact of life, especially in our culture. All of our modern time-saving technology hasn't solved our busyness for us. We're spread as thin as ever.
At the same time, we're called to be Christlike. Jesus' image is imprinted in our spirits so we will one day be like Him. In some respects, if we are disciples at any level, we already are like Him. And we know, when we read His Word, that we are to take our cues from Him. That means that when the Word tells us He would withdraw to lonely places to pray, we know we are to do the same. Christlikeness means being like Christ.
What are we to do when our culture, our work, even our friends and families dictate against an attribute of Jesus? Are we to follow our culture or follow Christ? On the surface, it's an easy question. When we try to apply the answer, it isn't. Getting away to pray is next to impossible, especially getting away often. The demands of life compete against the demands of Jesus, and we far too often choose the former. It's easier.
But it won't get us where God wants us to be. The bulk of discipleship is to be learned in community, but there are some aspects of it that we can only get when we and God are alone together. Sometimes that can happen in a brief morning devotional, but there are other times when the Spirit wants to teach us a deeper lesson or perhaps simply to have a longer time of fellowship with us. That can't happen unless, from time to time - as often as possible, in fact - we get alone with God.
If getting away with God in a secluded place is not part of your regular discipleship, start thinking how you might change that. Plan a time to do it. If it seems impossible because of work or family demands, ask God to help you see when it could happen and to help arrange the details - who will cover for you, where it might be, and so on. Remember that He is even more interested in your rendezvous than you are. In Jesus, He gave us that truth: Worship involves solitude with Him.
"The more a man loves Christ, the more he delights to be with Christ alone. Lovers love to be alone." - Thomas Benton Brooks
If you've read a couple of my most recent posts, you might recognize that I've been pointing my posts more toward worship lately. The times we're alone with Christ are the times we worship Him best.
We're busy. It's a fact of life, especially in our culture. All of our modern time-saving technology hasn't solved our busyness for us. We're spread as thin as ever.
At the same time, we're called to be Christlike. Jesus' image is imprinted in our spirits so we will one day be like Him. In some respects, if we are disciples at any level, we already are like Him. And we know, when we read His Word, that we are to take our cues from Him. That means that when the Word tells us He would withdraw to lonely places to pray, we know we are to do the same. Christlikeness means being like Christ.
What are we to do when our culture, our work, even our friends and families dictate against an attribute of Jesus? Are we to follow our culture or follow Christ? On the surface, it's an easy question. When we try to apply the answer, it isn't. Getting away to pray is next to impossible, especially getting away often. The demands of life compete against the demands of Jesus, and we far too often choose the former. It's easier.
But it won't get us where God wants us to be. The bulk of discipleship is to be learned in community, but there are some aspects of it that we can only get when we and God are alone together. Sometimes that can happen in a brief morning devotional, but there are other times when the Spirit wants to teach us a deeper lesson or perhaps simply to have a longer time of fellowship with us. That can't happen unless, from time to time - as often as possible, in fact - we get alone with God.
If getting away with God in a secluded place is not part of your regular discipleship, start thinking how you might change that. Plan a time to do it. If it seems impossible because of work or family demands, ask God to help you see when it could happen and to help arrange the details - who will cover for you, where it might be, and so on. Remember that He is even more interested in your rendezvous than you are. In Jesus, He gave us that truth: Worship involves solitude with Him.
"The more a man loves Christ, the more he delights to be with Christ alone. Lovers love to be alone." - Thomas Benton Brooks
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Holy Fear
"Blessed are those who fear the LORD, who walk in his ways. ... Thus is the man blessed who fears the LORD. May the LORD bless you from Zion all the days of your life; may you see the prosperity of Jerusalem, and may you live to see your children's children." (Psa. 128:1, 4-6)
Fear of the Lord is not a popular subject. Modern revisionists have dismissed Bible verses that speak of fearing God and have adapted hymns that once praised it. God, we are told, is love - an entirely biblical idea; and love, we are told, tolerates anything and everything our heart desires - an entirely unbiblical idea. So while the Bible tells us to fear God, society says He's completely harmless and tame, and will pat us on the back for whatever we do.
But we know better. Fear is appropriate when we come into God's presence. It isn't a fear that dreads impending judgment - perfect love casts that out (1 John 4:18) - but a fear that is overwhelmed with something so awesomely greater than ourselves. If the sight of the Grand Canyon or Niagara Falls can make us tremble, as the power of natural forces can do, the sight of supernatural power is even more terrifying. A quick survey of Isaiah's call, the disciples' frequent reaction to Jesus' miracles, and John's vision on Patmos will confirm it: God is worthy of our fear.
That's important to remember because the fear of God - not just a healthy respect for Him - will constantly remind us that we live sacred lives in a sacred presence. We are always, in a sense, on holy ground. The God who has redeemed us has come to dwell within us, and we can never take sin, obedience, or even life itself casually again. The knowledge of the Holy One is a traumatic experience with powerful results. The presence of God changes us.
That's why this psalm tells us that those who fear the Lord are blessed - happy, fulfilled, complete. A sacred awareness of our lives as redeemed servants of the most high God will keep us focused on reality. It will change our behavior and our hearts in remarkable ways. It will keep us believing, praying, and loving because the majesty of the Creator overwhelms us with faith, hope, and love. The psalm is a promise: Blessing and prosperity come to those who do not take God casually.
"The fear of God kills all other fears." - Hugh Black
Fear of the Lord is not a popular subject. Modern revisionists have dismissed Bible verses that speak of fearing God and have adapted hymns that once praised it. God, we are told, is love - an entirely biblical idea; and love, we are told, tolerates anything and everything our heart desires - an entirely unbiblical idea. So while the Bible tells us to fear God, society says He's completely harmless and tame, and will pat us on the back for whatever we do.
But we know better. Fear is appropriate when we come into God's presence. It isn't a fear that dreads impending judgment - perfect love casts that out (1 John 4:18) - but a fear that is overwhelmed with something so awesomely greater than ourselves. If the sight of the Grand Canyon or Niagara Falls can make us tremble, as the power of natural forces can do, the sight of supernatural power is even more terrifying. A quick survey of Isaiah's call, the disciples' frequent reaction to Jesus' miracles, and John's vision on Patmos will confirm it: God is worthy of our fear.
That's important to remember because the fear of God - not just a healthy respect for Him - will constantly remind us that we live sacred lives in a sacred presence. We are always, in a sense, on holy ground. The God who has redeemed us has come to dwell within us, and we can never take sin, obedience, or even life itself casually again. The knowledge of the Holy One is a traumatic experience with powerful results. The presence of God changes us.
That's why this psalm tells us that those who fear the Lord are blessed - happy, fulfilled, complete. A sacred awareness of our lives as redeemed servants of the most high God will keep us focused on reality. It will change our behavior and our hearts in remarkable ways. It will keep us believing, praying, and loving because the majesty of the Creator overwhelms us with faith, hope, and love. The psalm is a promise: Blessing and prosperity come to those who do not take God casually.
"The fear of God kills all other fears." - Hugh Black
Friday, December 10, 2010
Dependence
"Our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he shows us his mercy." (Psa. 123:2)
I've been camping out in Psalms lately. And tonight, I've been thinking a lot about trust and dependence on God - about letting go and trusting that God will finish what He started. And that it will be good no matter what.
Think about this: You've asked God something, and you have waited for His answer. It hasn't come yet, or perhaps it hasn't come in the form you wanted. The natural human tendency, in such cases, is to think to yourself, "God must want me to work this out on my own." And you begin crossing that very fine line between expectant faith and willful self-assertion. When you do, you may get results - some sort of resolution to your problem. But it won't be God's resolution if it didn't come from Him.
That's a common problem in the life of faith. We trust God, but when He delays His intervention in our lives, we start making assumptions. Perhaps He wanted us to fend for ourselves, or perhaps He simply said no to our request and we missed it. So we act. We take our eyes off of His provision and put them on whatever we manage ourselves. It's a subtle shift with dramatic implications. Soon we're living on our own, only occasionally acknowledging the God we know is up there, though we're not sure where.
Psalm 123 tells us the right attitude. As a servant looks to his master - for everything, in its time - and as a maid looks to her mistress, so we are to look to God. Our eyes are to stay on Him. If He gives us what we expect, we have it. If He doesn't, we don't. There are no alternatives, no plan B's, no going back to the drawing board. If we truly depend on God, we depend only on Him and not on any other. Not even ourselves.
Trust and dependence are single-minded attitudes. If we have them, we have pinned all our hopes on this God, and whatever He does for us, that's what we have. He isn't the first resort before we move on to second, third, and last resorts; He isn't the first bank to which we apply for a loan, or the first school to which we apply for admission, with backup choices waiting just in case. No, He's it. All there is. The trusting heart will wait because it believes there are no other options. And in the end, that's the heart that will be shown mercy.
"What is more elevating and transporting than the generosity of heart which risks everything on God's Word?" - John Henry Newman
I've been camping out in Psalms lately. And tonight, I've been thinking a lot about trust and dependence on God - about letting go and trusting that God will finish what He started. And that it will be good no matter what.
Think about this: You've asked God something, and you have waited for His answer. It hasn't come yet, or perhaps it hasn't come in the form you wanted. The natural human tendency, in such cases, is to think to yourself, "God must want me to work this out on my own." And you begin crossing that very fine line between expectant faith and willful self-assertion. When you do, you may get results - some sort of resolution to your problem. But it won't be God's resolution if it didn't come from Him.
That's a common problem in the life of faith. We trust God, but when He delays His intervention in our lives, we start making assumptions. Perhaps He wanted us to fend for ourselves, or perhaps He simply said no to our request and we missed it. So we act. We take our eyes off of His provision and put them on whatever we manage ourselves. It's a subtle shift with dramatic implications. Soon we're living on our own, only occasionally acknowledging the God we know is up there, though we're not sure where.
Psalm 123 tells us the right attitude. As a servant looks to his master - for everything, in its time - and as a maid looks to her mistress, so we are to look to God. Our eyes are to stay on Him. If He gives us what we expect, we have it. If He doesn't, we don't. There are no alternatives, no plan B's, no going back to the drawing board. If we truly depend on God, we depend only on Him and not on any other. Not even ourselves.
Trust and dependence are single-minded attitudes. If we have them, we have pinned all our hopes on this God, and whatever He does for us, that's what we have. He isn't the first resort before we move on to second, third, and last resorts; He isn't the first bank to which we apply for a loan, or the first school to which we apply for admission, with backup choices waiting just in case. No, He's it. All there is. The trusting heart will wait because it believes there are no other options. And in the end, that's the heart that will be shown mercy.
"What is more elevating and transporting than the generosity of heart which risks everything on God's Word?" - John Henry Newman
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Proud Weakness, Humble Strength
"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. ... The LORD tears down the proud man's house but he keeps the widow's boundaries intact." (Pro. 11:2, 15:25)
I was walking through a bookstore in town the other day. I normally don't even bother with this section, but while moseying, I happened down what I call the "self-help" aisle. God has been really pushing wisdom for me lately, and I just happened to think about one of my favorite verses (Pro. 11:2), and how it applied to our need to better ourselves.
The self-improvement section is almost always the hottest corner of the bookstore. Why? Because it is human nature to build ourselves up. We want more security, more education, better skills, more income, stable mental health, stronger relationships, deeper passions, more adventure, and a higher standard of living. And God has even put those basic impulses into our hearts.
We might be surprised then to find out that God always opposes our most natural strategy for growth. We're into self-improvement, with an emphasis on the "self." We want to be stronger, better, smarter, and richer - ourselves. And we always try to attain our status with personal strategies and hard work. Does God oppose strategy and work? Hardly. He just hates the pride that those things foster.
There is a remarkable contrast in this proverb. The proud man has a house. It's likely gorgeous, or at least very sturdy. The walls are thick, the decor is stylish, and the construction is solid. How do we know? Because he is proud; proud people don't settle for second best. The widow, on the other hand, may not have much of a house. She may not have walls around her property. There's no security system, no guards, nothing to stop anyone from taking what little she has. The proud man is insulated, but the widow is completely vulnerable. He is the epitome of strength, and she is the epitome of weakness. So which one is more secure? According to this proverb, she is. The proud man's thick walls will be torn down by God Himself. The widow's naked boundaries will be guarded by God Himself. Yes, God chooses sides.
Why, when we're guaranteed such divine strength in our vulnerability, do we almost always opt for more of our own "strength"? Are we just too proud to be dependent? We can have either our self-sufficiency or God's sufficiency. Having both is not an option. This is not a difficult question: Which would you prefer?
I was walking through a bookstore in town the other day. I normally don't even bother with this section, but while moseying, I happened down what I call the "self-help" aisle. God has been really pushing wisdom for me lately, and I just happened to think about one of my favorite verses (Pro. 11:2), and how it applied to our need to better ourselves.
The self-improvement section is almost always the hottest corner of the bookstore. Why? Because it is human nature to build ourselves up. We want more security, more education, better skills, more income, stable mental health, stronger relationships, deeper passions, more adventure, and a higher standard of living. And God has even put those basic impulses into our hearts.
We might be surprised then to find out that God always opposes our most natural strategy for growth. We're into self-improvement, with an emphasis on the "self." We want to be stronger, better, smarter, and richer - ourselves. And we always try to attain our status with personal strategies and hard work. Does God oppose strategy and work? Hardly. He just hates the pride that those things foster.
There is a remarkable contrast in this proverb. The proud man has a house. It's likely gorgeous, or at least very sturdy. The walls are thick, the decor is stylish, and the construction is solid. How do we know? Because he is proud; proud people don't settle for second best. The widow, on the other hand, may not have much of a house. She may not have walls around her property. There's no security system, no guards, nothing to stop anyone from taking what little she has. The proud man is insulated, but the widow is completely vulnerable. He is the epitome of strength, and she is the epitome of weakness. So which one is more secure? According to this proverb, she is. The proud man's thick walls will be torn down by God Himself. The widow's naked boundaries will be guarded by God Himself. Yes, God chooses sides.
Why, when we're guaranteed such divine strength in our vulnerability, do we almost always opt for more of our own "strength"? Are we just too proud to be dependent? We can have either our self-sufficiency or God's sufficiency. Having both is not an option. This is not a difficult question: Which would you prefer?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Easy Way vs. God's Way
"There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death." (Pro. 14:12)
The Easy Way
"In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as he saw fit." (Jud. 21:25)
When given a choice between an easy option and a difficult one, which are we more likely to select? All other things being equal, the easy one. But all other things are not equal. Our choices have far-reaching ramifications, and God usually has a preference in them. And, not surprisingly to us, His will has little to do with what's easy.
The United States Declaration of Independence asserts our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That's ingrained in us. We are not often encouraged to do difficult things unless the rewards are great - and clear to our senses. No, more often we prefer the path of least resistance. We'll work for a self-serving cause, or even a selfless cause we feel passionately about. But we do not see God's benefits easily. We are unaware of His rewards, unfamiliar with His Kingdom's ways, and often unconcerned with the glory of His name. We are creatures of the easy way.
That's a natural tendency of a fallen humanity, and cultural ideals and elders who know better try to train us otherwise. But, like the Israelites in one terribly lawless period, everyone does as he or she sees fit (Jud. 21:25). We forget that God never asked us to do what seems right in our own eyes; He asks us to do what is right in His eyes. Before the Holy Spirit lovingly invades our lives, we have no spiritual discernment and are guided by impure minds. At the time, that seems like a satisfying independence. But in truth, it's a scary way to live.
Consider God's ways with those in the Bible. If difficulties indicated being out of God's will, Paul had most certainly gone astray. (His hardships are listed in 2 Cor. 6:4-10.) If obedience were always an easy decision, Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac was pointless. No, our God calls us to hard things. We don't like that, but we need to get used to it. It's a temporary but certain component of the Kingdom of God: The way that seems right often isn't.
God's Way
"This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live." (Deut. 30:19)
The way of human ingenuity and discernment, according to the Bible, leads to death. This verse is often applied to salvation, but it is much farther-reaching than that. It applies to all of our choices. We are confronted with constant decisions between self-will and God's will. And the choices may be much more subtle than that: the easy way vs. the hard way, small compromises vs. absolute truth, or any other such confusing fork in the road. We don't realize the gravity of our direction. Man's way leads to death, while God's way leads to . . . well, death.
Have you considered that? If we serve ourselves and cling to our false values, we will die. If we submit to Jesus, we must die. But the outcome is not as uniform as it seems. This world offers us "life" and then death - forever. God offers us "death" and then life - forever. Fools choose the "life" of this world, the "life" of the party, the "life" of freedom from all responsibility. The wise choose God. Yes, that means a cross now - a daily cross, a painful cross, a difficult path of aversion to our own wills and submission to God's. But in the end, it leads to life.
God is constantly calling us into His will. We're afraid of Him. We've been convinced by a hostile world and a lying enemy that God's will involves untold sacrifice and pain without a corresponding benefit. We think it's all pain, no gain - or a lot of pain with very uncertain gain. We just can't see the blessing beyond the cross.
But do you think you have a real alternative? That cross we carry may be painful and sacrificial - it is not the easy way. But it's the only way. The alternative is to live outside the will of God, which equals a thousand deaths, each a thousand times worse than the blessed life of submission to the compassionate Lord. What "life" are we embracing when we opt for self-will? A momentary sense of satisfaction, perhaps. But that won't last. God's Kingdom will. It's where life will live forever.
"Carry the cross patiently and with perfect submission, and in the end it shall carry you." - Thomas à Kempis
The Easy Way
"In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as he saw fit." (Jud. 21:25)
When given a choice between an easy option and a difficult one, which are we more likely to select? All other things being equal, the easy one. But all other things are not equal. Our choices have far-reaching ramifications, and God usually has a preference in them. And, not surprisingly to us, His will has little to do with what's easy.
The United States Declaration of Independence asserts our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That's ingrained in us. We are not often encouraged to do difficult things unless the rewards are great - and clear to our senses. No, more often we prefer the path of least resistance. We'll work for a self-serving cause, or even a selfless cause we feel passionately about. But we do not see God's benefits easily. We are unaware of His rewards, unfamiliar with His Kingdom's ways, and often unconcerned with the glory of His name. We are creatures of the easy way.
That's a natural tendency of a fallen humanity, and cultural ideals and elders who know better try to train us otherwise. But, like the Israelites in one terribly lawless period, everyone does as he or she sees fit (Jud. 21:25). We forget that God never asked us to do what seems right in our own eyes; He asks us to do what is right in His eyes. Before the Holy Spirit lovingly invades our lives, we have no spiritual discernment and are guided by impure minds. At the time, that seems like a satisfying independence. But in truth, it's a scary way to live.
Consider God's ways with those in the Bible. If difficulties indicated being out of God's will, Paul had most certainly gone astray. (His hardships are listed in 2 Cor. 6:4-10.) If obedience were always an easy decision, Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac was pointless. No, our God calls us to hard things. We don't like that, but we need to get used to it. It's a temporary but certain component of the Kingdom of God: The way that seems right often isn't.
God's Way
"This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live." (Deut. 30:19)
The way of human ingenuity and discernment, according to the Bible, leads to death. This verse is often applied to salvation, but it is much farther-reaching than that. It applies to all of our choices. We are confronted with constant decisions between self-will and God's will. And the choices may be much more subtle than that: the easy way vs. the hard way, small compromises vs. absolute truth, or any other such confusing fork in the road. We don't realize the gravity of our direction. Man's way leads to death, while God's way leads to . . . well, death.
Have you considered that? If we serve ourselves and cling to our false values, we will die. If we submit to Jesus, we must die. But the outcome is not as uniform as it seems. This world offers us "life" and then death - forever. God offers us "death" and then life - forever. Fools choose the "life" of this world, the "life" of the party, the "life" of freedom from all responsibility. The wise choose God. Yes, that means a cross now - a daily cross, a painful cross, a difficult path of aversion to our own wills and submission to God's. But in the end, it leads to life.
God is constantly calling us into His will. We're afraid of Him. We've been convinced by a hostile world and a lying enemy that God's will involves untold sacrifice and pain without a corresponding benefit. We think it's all pain, no gain - or a lot of pain with very uncertain gain. We just can't see the blessing beyond the cross.
But do you think you have a real alternative? That cross we carry may be painful and sacrificial - it is not the easy way. But it's the only way. The alternative is to live outside the will of God, which equals a thousand deaths, each a thousand times worse than the blessed life of submission to the compassionate Lord. What "life" are we embracing when we opt for self-will? A momentary sense of satisfaction, perhaps. But that won't last. God's Kingdom will. It's where life will live forever.
"Carry the cross patiently and with perfect submission, and in the end it shall carry you." - Thomas à Kempis
Thursday, November 25, 2010
The Joy of Gratitude
"Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done. ... Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice. Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. Remember what wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced." (Psa. 105:1, 3-5)
First of all, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!! Now, to the meat:
The hearts of those who seek the Lord are often tentative and fretful. Why do we approach God this way? We're not sure of how we'll be received. We know He is loving, but we also know He is holy. We know He is near, but we also know He is utterly transcendent, completely different from what we can imagine. We know that He is light, but we also know that "clouds and thick darkness surround him" (Psa. 97:2). Everyone who ever got a glimpse of Him really couldn't explain it to others very well. The mystery is too great. So we sometimes seek God with a little fear or a little pessimism. We're not sure what we'll find on the other side of the mystery.
Psalm 105 gives us other instructions. Yes, He is mysterious, shrouded in transcendence, incomprehensible in His holiness. But we can still approach Him with joy. We can rejoice because we know that everything He does is good. It may be hard and it may be confusing, but it will be good. God never spurns those who approach Him with an elementary understanding of who He is.
How does this help us? Our natural tendency, like Adam and Eve, is to hide from God. We don't necessarily sit behind the bushes hoping He won't discover us, but mentally we're not entirely open to Him. We dress up our prayers to sound right to His ears, we dress up our deeds to appear worthy before Him, and we dress up our worship to appeal to His glory.
In doing so, we sometimes hide things. We don't come to Him boldly, as the writer of Hebrews encourages us to do ("Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Heb. 4:16). We're spiritual actors when we don't need to be. We underestimate His mercies. We're not quite sure who He is.
Gratitude reminds us never to underestimate Him. It reminds us of what He has done, what He has forgiven, and what He has promised. It acknowledges who He is. And it sends us into His presence with joy.
"The best way to show my gratitude to God is to accept everything, even my problems, with joy." - Mother Teresa
First of all, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!! Now, to the meat:
The hearts of those who seek the Lord are often tentative and fretful. Why do we approach God this way? We're not sure of how we'll be received. We know He is loving, but we also know He is holy. We know He is near, but we also know He is utterly transcendent, completely different from what we can imagine. We know that He is light, but we also know that "clouds and thick darkness surround him" (Psa. 97:2). Everyone who ever got a glimpse of Him really couldn't explain it to others very well. The mystery is too great. So we sometimes seek God with a little fear or a little pessimism. We're not sure what we'll find on the other side of the mystery.
Psalm 105 gives us other instructions. Yes, He is mysterious, shrouded in transcendence, incomprehensible in His holiness. But we can still approach Him with joy. We can rejoice because we know that everything He does is good. It may be hard and it may be confusing, but it will be good. God never spurns those who approach Him with an elementary understanding of who He is.
How does this help us? Our natural tendency, like Adam and Eve, is to hide from God. We don't necessarily sit behind the bushes hoping He won't discover us, but mentally we're not entirely open to Him. We dress up our prayers to sound right to His ears, we dress up our deeds to appear worthy before Him, and we dress up our worship to appeal to His glory.
In doing so, we sometimes hide things. We don't come to Him boldly, as the writer of Hebrews encourages us to do ("Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Heb. 4:16). We're spiritual actors when we don't need to be. We underestimate His mercies. We're not quite sure who He is.
Gratitude reminds us never to underestimate Him. It reminds us of what He has done, what He has forgiven, and what He has promised. It acknowledges who He is. And it sends us into His presence with joy.
"The best way to show my gratitude to God is to accept everything, even my problems, with joy." - Mother Teresa
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Anatomy of a Surrender: Faith
"Since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God." (2 Cor. 7:1)
So I know it's been a couple days since I last wrote, but I wanted to write this "two-part" post where I kind of started at a beginning and ended with a certain destination. It just took me a couple days to figure out how to do that.
The flesh-life and the faith-life stand in stark contrast to one another. One sends us in search of the things we think will give us enjoyment, security, and love. The other sends us to God. Those two paths are so similar in their agenda that we get them confused often. Sometimes we even think God gave us our idols to comfort us. Maybe He did, but that was before we began to depend on them. Now they must go.
But those two paths are so different in direction that they cannot, under any circumstances, coexist. We will choose one or the other. As surely as we can't drive on two roads at once, we can't pursue God and our idolatry at the same time. To embrace one is to reject the other. We cannot worship God as an add-on to all the comforts, pleasures, securities, and emotional dependencies we've built our lives on. They must be dethroned and God must reign. It's only right.
Faith can grasp that and let go of everything but God. People, places, possessions, pastimes - they are wonderful gifts from our Father, but they are not our treasures. He is. Only He can be. No other treasure is appropriate, and no other treasure will fulfill. That's the conviction of biblical faith. God is worth everything.
Faith has the power to surrender all to Jesus, not just during the closing hymn at church but on Mondays at work or on Saturdays at home. Faith is wise enough to see through the idols we've constructed and to know how empty they are. Faith is discerning enough to understand: No matter how hard it seems, obedience is always the right choice, the way to receive God's blessing, and the thing that will satisfy us most. God has designed us that way. When we try to satisfy ourselves with other things, we are reaching in the wrong direction and falling for a lie. The faith-life experiences God's best - at all costs.
"I do not want merely to possess faith; I want a faith that possesses me." - Charles Kingsley
So I know it's been a couple days since I last wrote, but I wanted to write this "two-part" post where I kind of started at a beginning and ended with a certain destination. It just took me a couple days to figure out how to do that.
The flesh-life and the faith-life stand in stark contrast to one another. One sends us in search of the things we think will give us enjoyment, security, and love. The other sends us to God. Those two paths are so similar in their agenda that we get them confused often. Sometimes we even think God gave us our idols to comfort us. Maybe He did, but that was before we began to depend on them. Now they must go.
But those two paths are so different in direction that they cannot, under any circumstances, coexist. We will choose one or the other. As surely as we can't drive on two roads at once, we can't pursue God and our idolatry at the same time. To embrace one is to reject the other. We cannot worship God as an add-on to all the comforts, pleasures, securities, and emotional dependencies we've built our lives on. They must be dethroned and God must reign. It's only right.
Faith can grasp that and let go of everything but God. People, places, possessions, pastimes - they are wonderful gifts from our Father, but they are not our treasures. He is. Only He can be. No other treasure is appropriate, and no other treasure will fulfill. That's the conviction of biblical faith. God is worth everything.
Faith has the power to surrender all to Jesus, not just during the closing hymn at church but on Mondays at work or on Saturdays at home. Faith is wise enough to see through the idols we've constructed and to know how empty they are. Faith is discerning enough to understand: No matter how hard it seems, obedience is always the right choice, the way to receive God's blessing, and the thing that will satisfy us most. God has designed us that way. When we try to satisfy ourselves with other things, we are reaching in the wrong direction and falling for a lie. The faith-life experiences God's best - at all costs.
"I do not want merely to possess faith; I want a faith that possesses me." - Charles Kingsley
Friday, November 19, 2010
Anatomy of a Surrender: Idolatry
"...What fellowship can light have with darkness? ... What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols? For we are the temple of the living God. ...Let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God." (2 Cor. 6:14, 16, 7:1)
Paul points out the obvious conflict between light and darkness to urge the Corinthians to disassociate from corrupting influences. The principle applies to our social relationships, but it also applies to the struggles within our hearts. If light and darkness do not mix within the church, which is the temple of God collectively, they do not mix within ourselves, who as individuals are the building blocks of that temple. We cannot entertain elements of the Kingdom of light and elements of the kingdom of darkness simultaneously and expect God to bear fruit in us. He wants purity.
That's a problem for every human being who has ever lived. We aren't pure. Long after we've made that landmark decision to follow Jesus, we still have internal struggles with sin and obedience. The decision was right, but the follow-through proves difficult. And it's the follow-through that makes the difference between unusual blessing and mediocrity. We cannot be mature Christians until the initial decision to let Jesus be our Lord actually becomes a way of life. We cannot make a commitment to light while maintaining our grip on darkness. We must surrender ourselves.
Nearly every Christian has remnants of darkness that cloud his or her discipleship. We like to call them character flaws or weaknesses of the flesh. In reality, they are idols. They may range from the alarming addictions of temper, lusts, and obsessive greed to the relatively minor flaws of bad diets, time mismanagement, and mild obsessions with hobbies. Regardless of their severity, they are our battlegrounds. They are points of conflict between us and our Creator. They test us on whether we will, or will not, obey.
All Christians have had their struggles with idolatry. Many of those struggles rage today. Some of them rage within your heart. The issue is not whether they are big or little sins; the issue is whether we trust God enough to do what He tells us, even in the small things. Choosing our will over His, at any level, is idolatry.
Paul points out the obvious conflict between light and darkness to urge the Corinthians to disassociate from corrupting influences. The principle applies to our social relationships, but it also applies to the struggles within our hearts. If light and darkness do not mix within the church, which is the temple of God collectively, they do not mix within ourselves, who as individuals are the building blocks of that temple. We cannot entertain elements of the Kingdom of light and elements of the kingdom of darkness simultaneously and expect God to bear fruit in us. He wants purity.
That's a problem for every human being who has ever lived. We aren't pure. Long after we've made that landmark decision to follow Jesus, we still have internal struggles with sin and obedience. The decision was right, but the follow-through proves difficult. And it's the follow-through that makes the difference between unusual blessing and mediocrity. We cannot be mature Christians until the initial decision to let Jesus be our Lord actually becomes a way of life. We cannot make a commitment to light while maintaining our grip on darkness. We must surrender ourselves.
Nearly every Christian has remnants of darkness that cloud his or her discipleship. We like to call them character flaws or weaknesses of the flesh. In reality, they are idols. They may range from the alarming addictions of temper, lusts, and obsessive greed to the relatively minor flaws of bad diets, time mismanagement, and mild obsessions with hobbies. Regardless of their severity, they are our battlegrounds. They are points of conflict between us and our Creator. They test us on whether we will, or will not, obey.
All Christians have had their struggles with idolatry. Many of those struggles rage today. Some of them rage within your heart. The issue is not whether they are big or little sins; the issue is whether we trust God enough to do what He tells us, even in the small things. Choosing our will over His, at any level, is idolatry.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Hardship Happens
"Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. ... Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed." (Heb. 12:7, 12-13)
I hadn't really intended on writing anything today. However, the Lord spoke to me this morning about hardship and the good that comes from it. Lately, I've had several friends who have gone through some hard times, whether it's been a depression, a deep hopelessness, or even just feeling like they're stuck in a funk with no way out.
Here's how it happens: trials come, and we plead for relief. Circumstances oppress, and we pray for deliverance. Health, relationships, work, and just about everything else in our lives grow difficult, and we ask God to straighten them out. We don't like the pressures of life, and we lift every anxious thought to God, as we should. But we forget a guiding principle: Hardship is part of the program. It grows us up into maturity. There are things that God wants to do with us that cannot be done in a perfect environment.
We view discipline as God's remedial recourse for a Christian who has gone far astray. But it is more universal than we like to think. It comes not only to those who have failed, but to those whom God is preparing for greater success. It's what a father does for his children, and it's what our Father does for us. Only those who are already perfect can avoid the trials that God allows - which means no one can. The trials will come, and God will let them stay for a while.
We don't like pain. We ask God to take away every reminder that we live in a broken world, but He won't do it. We will live out our days with some scars, or sometimes even with open wounds. We cannot become ministers of His grace otherwise. We can't even learn it for ourselves until He puts us in great need of it. If we are to represent our merciful Father in a broken world, we must actually live in that broken world. We must know the needs that require mercy, and we must know them from experience. There is no other way.
As finite and imperfect human beings, we constantly ask God to clean up every messy area of our lives, and to brighten every dark corner and dress up every shabby appearance. That's okay; our concerns are His concerns. But don't expect perfection. The perfect world we crave is for a future glory, not for now. Ease and comfort are not usually His prescription for us, because they will not prepare us for that future glory. No, God will leave us reminders of brokenness to serve as reminders of His grace. Endure those reminders well. Your Father loves you.
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." - E. H. Chapin
I hadn't really intended on writing anything today. However, the Lord spoke to me this morning about hardship and the good that comes from it. Lately, I've had several friends who have gone through some hard times, whether it's been a depression, a deep hopelessness, or even just feeling like they're stuck in a funk with no way out.
Here's how it happens: trials come, and we plead for relief. Circumstances oppress, and we pray for deliverance. Health, relationships, work, and just about everything else in our lives grow difficult, and we ask God to straighten them out. We don't like the pressures of life, and we lift every anxious thought to God, as we should. But we forget a guiding principle: Hardship is part of the program. It grows us up into maturity. There are things that God wants to do with us that cannot be done in a perfect environment.
We view discipline as God's remedial recourse for a Christian who has gone far astray. But it is more universal than we like to think. It comes not only to those who have failed, but to those whom God is preparing for greater success. It's what a father does for his children, and it's what our Father does for us. Only those who are already perfect can avoid the trials that God allows - which means no one can. The trials will come, and God will let them stay for a while.
We don't like pain. We ask God to take away every reminder that we live in a broken world, but He won't do it. We will live out our days with some scars, or sometimes even with open wounds. We cannot become ministers of His grace otherwise. We can't even learn it for ourselves until He puts us in great need of it. If we are to represent our merciful Father in a broken world, we must actually live in that broken world. We must know the needs that require mercy, and we must know them from experience. There is no other way.
As finite and imperfect human beings, we constantly ask God to clean up every messy area of our lives, and to brighten every dark corner and dress up every shabby appearance. That's okay; our concerns are His concerns. But don't expect perfection. The perfect world we crave is for a future glory, not for now. Ease and comfort are not usually His prescription for us, because they will not prepare us for that future glory. No, God will leave us reminders of brokenness to serve as reminders of His grace. Endure those reminders well. Your Father loves you.
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." - E. H. Chapin
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Spiritual Fervor
"Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord." (Rom. 12:11)
As I've been studying in Romans lately, I've been reading Romans 12:9-13 over and over. There are so many truths you can gather from just those four verses. I was reading it yesterday, and this verse pretty much hit me in the face like a nine-pound sledgehammer.
Jesus once rebuked a church for its lukewarmness. The Laodiceans were neither hot nor cold, and the language Jesus used to describe His reaction was graphic and blunt. It nauseated Him (Revelation 3:15-16). Spiritual apathy is far from the heart of God.
Several times in the Old Testament - Isaiah, in particular - it is said that God will accomplish His will with zeal. He is a zealous God, and there is nothing lukewarm about Him. He is violently opposed to sin. He is passionately loving toward those who trust Him. His holiness, His compassion, His mercy, His provision, His protection - all of His attributes are portrayed in the Bible as complete. He is not somewhat loving, partially holy, mostly omniscient, or sort of wise. Everything He is, He is in the extreme.
We are His children. It would not make sense for God to give His children a spirit different from His own. We cannot envision Him as passionate and zealous and remain apathetic ourselves. If He is fervent, we must be fervent. If He serves zealously, we must serve zealously. Jesus' love led Him to wash dirty feet and it took Him to the Cross. Will ours? The Holy Spirit sent Paul all around the Roman Empire against all kinds of opposition. Would He not give us that same drive? The early believers died in fires and coliseums for their faith. Would we?
How would you characterize your level of zeal? Does it drive you to pursue God's Kingdom and His righteousness with a passion? If He dwells within you and your fellowship with Him is deep, it will. It is not possible to be powerfully filled with the Holy Spirit and yet to be lukewarm in our love or our service. His Spirit and our apathy cannot coexist in the same place; there is no fellowship between them. As we're fond of saying, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The extreme God will have extreme children.
As I've been studying in Romans lately, I've been reading Romans 12:9-13 over and over. There are so many truths you can gather from just those four verses. I was reading it yesterday, and this verse pretty much hit me in the face like a nine-pound sledgehammer.
Jesus once rebuked a church for its lukewarmness. The Laodiceans were neither hot nor cold, and the language Jesus used to describe His reaction was graphic and blunt. It nauseated Him (Revelation 3:15-16). Spiritual apathy is far from the heart of God.
Several times in the Old Testament - Isaiah, in particular - it is said that God will accomplish His will with zeal. He is a zealous God, and there is nothing lukewarm about Him. He is violently opposed to sin. He is passionately loving toward those who trust Him. His holiness, His compassion, His mercy, His provision, His protection - all of His attributes are portrayed in the Bible as complete. He is not somewhat loving, partially holy, mostly omniscient, or sort of wise. Everything He is, He is in the extreme.
We are His children. It would not make sense for God to give His children a spirit different from His own. We cannot envision Him as passionate and zealous and remain apathetic ourselves. If He is fervent, we must be fervent. If He serves zealously, we must serve zealously. Jesus' love led Him to wash dirty feet and it took Him to the Cross. Will ours? The Holy Spirit sent Paul all around the Roman Empire against all kinds of opposition. Would He not give us that same drive? The early believers died in fires and coliseums for their faith. Would we?
How would you characterize your level of zeal? Does it drive you to pursue God's Kingdom and His righteousness with a passion? If He dwells within you and your fellowship with Him is deep, it will. It is not possible to be powerfully filled with the Holy Spirit and yet to be lukewarm in our love or our service. His Spirit and our apathy cannot coexist in the same place; there is no fellowship between them. As we're fond of saying, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The extreme God will have extreme children.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A New Culture
"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality." (Rom. 12:9-13)
I read this illustration the other day, and thought it was the perfect representation of how we are born as new creations and how, as hard as it is, we are to give our all to God: A man went to live in a foreign country. He loved it. He wanted to apply for citizenship, and having to real ties to his former country, he began to live "like the natives." He adopted the dress and habits of his new culture. He began to learn the language. He refused to eat food from his former diet and dined exclusively on the cuisine of his adopted homeland. He wanted no visual reminders of his past and embraced all the customs of his present and future. He established a new identity.
That's what God tells us to do. We have left the kingdom of darkness and been adopted into the Kingdom of light. We are to put off the clothing of the old nature and live in the Spirit of the new. We are conforming to a different culture and being shaped into a different nature. The old has passed away; all things have become new.
When Paul tells us to hate what is evil and cling to what is good, he is not giving us friendly advice. He is using the graphic images to define our transition. We are to "turn in horror from wickedness" (v. 9, AMP), loathing any semblance of ungodliness. The deeds of darkness are no longer appropriate in our new Kingdom; they do not fit into this culture. And then we are to cling to what is good - embrace it, desperately grab hold of it, never let it go. It is to be our obsession, of a sort. We are to pursue godliness with unbridled zeal.
Few Christians make such a dramatic transition, but those who do can testify to the rest of us that it's a greater blessing to make radical changes than to make slow, imperceptible ones. Sanctification is a lifelong process, but blessed are those who are on the fast track. They are quicker candidates for usefulness in the Kingdom, they are greater testimonies to the power of God, and they are less likely to fade away into the abandonment of lukewarmness. Real godliness is radical.
We all go through spiritual ruts every now and then. Hate what is evil and cling to what is good. Let sin horrify you, and embrace the culture of the Kingdom of blazing light. Total immersion is always the best way to fit in.
"He that sees the beauty of holiness ... sees the greatest and most important thing in the world." - Jonathan Edwards
I read this illustration the other day, and thought it was the perfect representation of how we are born as new creations and how, as hard as it is, we are to give our all to God: A man went to live in a foreign country. He loved it. He wanted to apply for citizenship, and having to real ties to his former country, he began to live "like the natives." He adopted the dress and habits of his new culture. He began to learn the language. He refused to eat food from his former diet and dined exclusively on the cuisine of his adopted homeland. He wanted no visual reminders of his past and embraced all the customs of his present and future. He established a new identity.
That's what God tells us to do. We have left the kingdom of darkness and been adopted into the Kingdom of light. We are to put off the clothing of the old nature and live in the Spirit of the new. We are conforming to a different culture and being shaped into a different nature. The old has passed away; all things have become new.
When Paul tells us to hate what is evil and cling to what is good, he is not giving us friendly advice. He is using the graphic images to define our transition. We are to "turn in horror from wickedness" (v. 9, AMP), loathing any semblance of ungodliness. The deeds of darkness are no longer appropriate in our new Kingdom; they do not fit into this culture. And then we are to cling to what is good - embrace it, desperately grab hold of it, never let it go. It is to be our obsession, of a sort. We are to pursue godliness with unbridled zeal.
Few Christians make such a dramatic transition, but those who do can testify to the rest of us that it's a greater blessing to make radical changes than to make slow, imperceptible ones. Sanctification is a lifelong process, but blessed are those who are on the fast track. They are quicker candidates for usefulness in the Kingdom, they are greater testimonies to the power of God, and they are less likely to fade away into the abandonment of lukewarmness. Real godliness is radical.
We all go through spiritual ruts every now and then. Hate what is evil and cling to what is good. Let sin horrify you, and embrace the culture of the Kingdom of blazing light. Total immersion is always the best way to fit in.
"He that sees the beauty of holiness ... sees the greatest and most important thing in the world." - Jonathan Edwards
Monday, November 8, 2010
Authentic Living
"The LORD detests the sacrifice of the wicked, but the prayer of the upright pleases him. The LORD detests the way of the wicked but he loves those who pursue righteousness." (Prov. 15:8-9)
God has put order and design into creation. He has woven His own character into it. The winds of the world blow according to His plan. The currents of the sea flow in ordered cycles. The river of life gushes in one direction, and the direction is toward Him. Order, purpose, a plan. Our God is a God of righteousness.
That's the problem with sin. It goes against the flow, drives against the wind, swims against the currents. It does not recognize the character of the Compassionate in the details of the cosmos. It corrupts and obscures the knowledge of the Holy in the heartbeat of the world. The pulse of mankind races and staggers at ungodly rates and rhythms. Rebellion has violated the very character of creation, contradicted the very logic of the Logos. It is an affront to the foundation of wisdom on which this earth was laid. God detests it.
Our treacherous, treasonous departure from the order of His handiwork has no remedy apart from a completely new creation. So God spoke Jesus into a virgin's womb and began a new order of things. The new creation was incorruptible by sin and unconquerable by death. And the Spirit of the new creation is put into us by the simple act of believing it is true and of relying on its worth.
That's why God loves those who pursue righteousness. They are demonstrating a love for the rhyme and reason by which all things are established. We cannot truly have such a love unless He gives it, but the re-creation always does. God puts within us a mind for wisdom, a heart for passion, and a spirit for the purity of His Kingdom. Our newborn instincts drive us right along with the winds and the currents of His plan.
I struggle (as I'm sure you do) with stubborn disobedience. Let it go and flee into the heart of God. Go with His flow. Know Him and love Him. Let that knowledge and love shape you. God delights in such a pursuit. It fits Him perfectly.
God has put order and design into creation. He has woven His own character into it. The winds of the world blow according to His plan. The currents of the sea flow in ordered cycles. The river of life gushes in one direction, and the direction is toward Him. Order, purpose, a plan. Our God is a God of righteousness.
That's the problem with sin. It goes against the flow, drives against the wind, swims against the currents. It does not recognize the character of the Compassionate in the details of the cosmos. It corrupts and obscures the knowledge of the Holy in the heartbeat of the world. The pulse of mankind races and staggers at ungodly rates and rhythms. Rebellion has violated the very character of creation, contradicted the very logic of the Logos. It is an affront to the foundation of wisdom on which this earth was laid. God detests it.
Our treacherous, treasonous departure from the order of His handiwork has no remedy apart from a completely new creation. So God spoke Jesus into a virgin's womb and began a new order of things. The new creation was incorruptible by sin and unconquerable by death. And the Spirit of the new creation is put into us by the simple act of believing it is true and of relying on its worth.
That's why God loves those who pursue righteousness. They are demonstrating a love for the rhyme and reason by which all things are established. We cannot truly have such a love unless He gives it, but the re-creation always does. God puts within us a mind for wisdom, a heart for passion, and a spirit for the purity of His Kingdom. Our newborn instincts drive us right along with the winds and the currents of His plan.
I struggle (as I'm sure you do) with stubborn disobedience. Let it go and flee into the heart of God. Go with His flow. Know Him and love Him. Let that knowledge and love shape you. God delights in such a pursuit. It fits Him perfectly.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Just Like Jesus
"We know that we have come to know him if we obey his commands. The man who says, "I know him," but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him. But if anyone obeys his word, God's love is truly made complete in him. Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did." (1 John 2:3-6)
It seems obvious, but somehow we miss this truth. We who claim salvation by faith in Jesus - that we are filled with the Holy Spirit of God and worship our Father in spirit and in truth - are often remarkably unlike our Savior.
What causes such incongruity in our lives? Do we want only the benefits of salvation without its responsibilities? Do we grab the "free gift" of grace while forgetting the cross-carrying side of discipleship? Whatever our reason, we are not alone. Every religion has adherents who claim to follow its precepts but are noticeably indifferent to them. Christians are adept at such games as well. We fool ourselves into thinking that agreement with the gospel equals living it. But it doesn't.
Perhaps, as John wrote this sentence, he was recalling the sharp words of Jesus when He asked His disciples a penetrating question: "Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?" (Luke 6:46) John had seen crowds surround the miracle-working Jesus with admiration and even worship, and he had also seen them walk away when the teaching got tough. Are we only miracle seekers as well? Do we seek a salvation that doesn't disrupt our lives? Do we claim to live in Him and yet not live like Him?
First John was written to help believers know whether their faith was genuine or not. High on the list of indicators for authenticity is a consistent lifestyle. John tells us, in essence, that there is no such thing as an un-Christlike Christian. He acknowledges our imperfection and our need to confess, of course, but he never implies that we can claim saving faith without a serious regard for the way we live. We must be like Him. Students resemble their teachers. Servants resemble their masters. Children resemble their parents. And Christians resemble Christ. It's a given.
Devote all diligence to this truth. The watching world is skeptical of the faith because it has seen un-Christlike "Christians." God's Word calls His witnesses to be like Him.
"A Christian's life should be nothing but a visible representation of Christ." - Thomas Brooks
It seems obvious, but somehow we miss this truth. We who claim salvation by faith in Jesus - that we are filled with the Holy Spirit of God and worship our Father in spirit and in truth - are often remarkably unlike our Savior.
What causes such incongruity in our lives? Do we want only the benefits of salvation without its responsibilities? Do we grab the "free gift" of grace while forgetting the cross-carrying side of discipleship? Whatever our reason, we are not alone. Every religion has adherents who claim to follow its precepts but are noticeably indifferent to them. Christians are adept at such games as well. We fool ourselves into thinking that agreement with the gospel equals living it. But it doesn't.
Perhaps, as John wrote this sentence, he was recalling the sharp words of Jesus when He asked His disciples a penetrating question: "Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?" (Luke 6:46) John had seen crowds surround the miracle-working Jesus with admiration and even worship, and he had also seen them walk away when the teaching got tough. Are we only miracle seekers as well? Do we seek a salvation that doesn't disrupt our lives? Do we claim to live in Him and yet not live like Him?
First John was written to help believers know whether their faith was genuine or not. High on the list of indicators for authenticity is a consistent lifestyle. John tells us, in essence, that there is no such thing as an un-Christlike Christian. He acknowledges our imperfection and our need to confess, of course, but he never implies that we can claim saving faith without a serious regard for the way we live. We must be like Him. Students resemble their teachers. Servants resemble their masters. Children resemble their parents. And Christians resemble Christ. It's a given.
Devote all diligence to this truth. The watching world is skeptical of the faith because it has seen un-Christlike "Christians." God's Word calls His witnesses to be like Him.
"A Christian's life should be nothing but a visible representation of Christ." - Thomas Brooks
Monday, November 1, 2010
Wisdom Through Fellowship
"I am a friend to all who fear you, to all who follow your precepts." (Psa. 119:63)
We like to think of our relationship with God as a highly personal matter involving no one but ourselves and Him. But God will not work that way. He calls us into community. The learning that we do must be done in community. The wisdom we acquire is imparted partly through fellowship. The truths we speak are meant to edify others as well as ourselves. Receiving the mind of Christ requires living in the body of Christ.
As we become steeped in the wisdom of God, we will find ourselves in tune with others who are steeped in His wisdom. It is more than a common interest; it is a spiritual bond. To receive His mind is to receive His Spirit, and to receive His Spirit is to have fellowship with one another. Why? Because God has poured out His Spirit on many members of one body. He has distributed His gifts widely so that, if we want to know Him in fullness, we must depend on one another. The Three-in-One is communal, and His people must be people of community. There is no way to be well-rounded in His truths without fellowship.
But that's a problem for many of us. Sometimes it's hard to see Christ in the body of Christ. Seekers are often turned off from God because of the people who represent Him. Though He dwells in us, we often do not let Him dwell visibly. These clearly earthen vessels often hide their treasure within an opaque crust of sin. The mind of God is sometimes obscured.
Don't idealize the church. It is made of redeemed, although flawed, people in a process of transformation. But don't underestimate it, either. God really dwells there. His wisdom is too great to be completely absorbed by a solitary mind, so He has spread it among many. The body of Christ is the physical presence of Jesus in this world. Do you really want to learn the mind of God? Then we need each other. It is in His Word, written on our hearts, and cultivated in the fellowship of His people.
We like to think of our relationship with God as a highly personal matter involving no one but ourselves and Him. But God will not work that way. He calls us into community. The learning that we do must be done in community. The wisdom we acquire is imparted partly through fellowship. The truths we speak are meant to edify others as well as ourselves. Receiving the mind of Christ requires living in the body of Christ.
As we become steeped in the wisdom of God, we will find ourselves in tune with others who are steeped in His wisdom. It is more than a common interest; it is a spiritual bond. To receive His mind is to receive His Spirit, and to receive His Spirit is to have fellowship with one another. Why? Because God has poured out His Spirit on many members of one body. He has distributed His gifts widely so that, if we want to know Him in fullness, we must depend on one another. The Three-in-One is communal, and His people must be people of community. There is no way to be well-rounded in His truths without fellowship.
But that's a problem for many of us. Sometimes it's hard to see Christ in the body of Christ. Seekers are often turned off from God because of the people who represent Him. Though He dwells in us, we often do not let Him dwell visibly. These clearly earthen vessels often hide their treasure within an opaque crust of sin. The mind of God is sometimes obscured.
Don't idealize the church. It is made of redeemed, although flawed, people in a process of transformation. But don't underestimate it, either. God really dwells there. His wisdom is too great to be completely absorbed by a solitary mind, so He has spread it among many. The body of Christ is the physical presence of Jesus in this world. Do you really want to learn the mind of God? Then we need each other. It is in His Word, written on our hearts, and cultivated in the fellowship of His people.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Perspective
"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? You...crowned him with glory and honor." (Psa. 8:3-5)
If there's anything our generation lacks in wisdom, it's perspective. Sin has always distorted our thoughts, making us larger than we ought to be and making God smaller than He is. As a result, our problems seem bigger than God, our plans seem better than His will, and our faulty logic makes more sense to us than His infallible Word.
What can correct us? What can bring us back into the right perspective? This psalm offers a good approach. All it takes is for us to consider the way things really are. Consider the vastness of God's work. Consider the frailty of our flesh. When we see ourselves relative to God, we, along with David in this psalm, are amazed that God is even mindful of us. Such a perspective reminds us constantly of grace: that we are made by grace, saved by grace, sustained by grace, and completely dependent on grace. The majesty of God's name and the glory and honor with which He has crowned His fallen creatures are mind-boggling. What a merciful condescension! The infinite, almighty, eternal God - the One who holds vast universes in the palm of His hand - has cared for pitifully small, broken human beings. He has even crowned us with honor. What a staggering contrast of proportions! A glimpse of it will deepen our perspective.
Understanding the vastness of God and the finiteness of humanity brings us back to sanity. Our problems become smaller than God, our plans bow to His will, and our faulty logic submits to His Word. Order is restored.
Has our perspective become distorted? Do our problems seem huge and our God small? Do we prefer our plans over His will and His Word? We should probably spend some time "considering." Contemplate His handiwork. Know our place in His creation. Observe the contrast between the majesty of the Almighty and the neediness of the weak. See the marvels of His grace. Let's let ourselves be trained in such thoughts. Let's let God shape our perspective.
If there's anything our generation lacks in wisdom, it's perspective. Sin has always distorted our thoughts, making us larger than we ought to be and making God smaller than He is. As a result, our problems seem bigger than God, our plans seem better than His will, and our faulty logic makes more sense to us than His infallible Word.
What can correct us? What can bring us back into the right perspective? This psalm offers a good approach. All it takes is for us to consider the way things really are. Consider the vastness of God's work. Consider the frailty of our flesh. When we see ourselves relative to God, we, along with David in this psalm, are amazed that God is even mindful of us. Such a perspective reminds us constantly of grace: that we are made by grace, saved by grace, sustained by grace, and completely dependent on grace. The majesty of God's name and the glory and honor with which He has crowned His fallen creatures are mind-boggling. What a merciful condescension! The infinite, almighty, eternal God - the One who holds vast universes in the palm of His hand - has cared for pitifully small, broken human beings. He has even crowned us with honor. What a staggering contrast of proportions! A glimpse of it will deepen our perspective.
Understanding the vastness of God and the finiteness of humanity brings us back to sanity. Our problems become smaller than God, our plans bow to His will, and our faulty logic submits to His Word. Order is restored.
Has our perspective become distorted? Do our problems seem huge and our God small? Do we prefer our plans over His will and His Word? We should probably spend some time "considering." Contemplate His handiwork. Know our place in His creation. Observe the contrast between the majesty of the Almighty and the neediness of the weak. See the marvels of His grace. Let's let ourselves be trained in such thoughts. Let's let God shape our perspective.
Friday, October 22, 2010
How Bad Do You Want It?
This is something that my good friend, Blair, wrote. It's something I've been guilty of (as most of us have). But I saw it as a charge, a challenge, and (with her blessing) just wanted to share it:
It's been a long time since I've written. It had to be that way so I could blow off some steam, figure things out, sort out my thoughts. For months and months now, I have struggled with being single, being lonely, and learning to trust God to be my safe place. I have become tough and independent and strong and wise. I have buried myself in mountains of work and church and leisure activities, trips with friends, volunteering, dating... I have been running. And why not? It's what I do best.
I have never felt closer to God and still farther away in all my life. Sometimes I get so righteous, wondering why God is still withholding something so precious to me when I'm trying my best to do things the right way (and for what it's worth, I've tried doing things the wrong way, too, with no different results). And then I feel guilty and throw myself into work at the church and into doing the right things and being on good behavior, thinking that more religion is just what I need. And I couldn't be more wrong.
I don't need more religion. I need more revival. And isn't that true for all of us? As Christians, we like the warm fuzzy feeling we get from going to church and singing some songs and listening intently to a sermon, sometimes even going so far as to scribble a few notes down on a scrap piece of paper that we stuff away in the 3rd chapter of the book of John and never read again. We attend on Sunday mornings on our best behavior, saying all the right things, praying for revival, and then go home. We pat ourselves on the back for being such good, obedient Christians. We mean well, don't we? Yet I've never seen good intentions set a man free.
I am convinced now more than ever that what's wrong with America and with the churches in America and with the Christians in America is not the economy. It's not politics. It's not poor schools or high taxes. It's not gambling. It's not drinking and drugs. It's not trade policies, wars, or child abuse. It's the APATHY of the Christians in America.
What has happened to the power of God? Did we stop believing in it? Did we stop claiming it? There is nothing more frustrating to me right now than the people of God trying to do the work of God without the power of God! How much longer can we go on like this?! How many more empty prayers can we lift up, asking God to send revival to us but never once truly committing to what it takes to do that? Asking God to revive our churches and restore our country isn't enough! It's not enough just to say the right things and play the right parts and I AM FURIOUS! I. HAVE. HAD. ENOUGH.
We are called to be above reproach, yet we spend countless hours entrenched in judgment of others who don't measure up to standards we feel like God would approve of. We get our feelings hurt if someone sits in our seat or if the pastor doesn't shake our hand or if we don't like the music. We would rather complain and bellyache about what's wrong with the people of the church instead of doing the one thing we're called to do - love them. Unconditionally. No matter what.
See, it doesn't matter to Jesus who someone is or who they were. It only matters to Him who they could be. He sees past the past, so I can't understand why Christians can't do the same. Quit the complaining and the judgment and just accept people for who they are - warts and all. We can't expect that God is going to rain power and revival down on us by sitting in a service on Sunday, seething with disappointment or judgment or worse - self-righteousness. He's not going to love you any more because you showed up or brought your Bible. And how quickly most of us have forgotten where we came from ourselves.
Addiction. Bitterness. Anger. Self-righteousness. Complacency. Adultery. Lying. Cheating. Stealing. Coveting. Disrepect. Disenchantment. Malice. Rudeness, lewdness, and crudeness. Jesus saves. So why are we so quick to judge those we deem "not good enough?" Is it because our reliance on religion has replaced our need for revival? How bad do you want it?
My dad taught me a long time ago that whenever you want something badly enough, you'll do just about whatever it takes to get it. If you want a new car, you save. If you want a new job, you schmooze. If you want a new girlfriend, you pursue. But how do we ask God for revival? By robbing Him of His tithes, by disappointing Him with lackluster worship, and by forgetting the very mess He rescued us from in the first place.
It's time to make up our minds, folks. We can't move forward by straddling the fence and we can't reach people for Jesus by pretending to be what we're not. We can't complete our destiny by divorcing our past. Either we want it or we don't. It's that simple.
The next time you're in church on a Sunday morning and you stand to sing another song or sit down to listen to another sermon, maybe you should start to remember. Remember who He is. Remember what He's done. And then ask yourself... how bad do you want it?
- Blair Davis
- Blair Davis
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The Pleasure of God
"I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory. Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you. On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me." (Psa. 63:2-8)
When we speak of learning God's wisdom and having the mind of Christ, it often sounds like we're sitting in a sterile classroom environment. We assume that we're being mentally trained in a new way of life. We are, but it's not in a cold, calculated transfer of information; it's a warm, wonderful learning experience, a hand-in-hand adventure with a loving Father who wants us to be like Him.
With God, familiarity does not breed contempt. It breeds passion and pleasure. We can dispense with the idea that we serve a cold, hard master. We can let go of the image of the ever-unsatisfied holiness of our Creator. He has satisfied His holy requirements Himself in the person of Jesus. What's left for us is an affectionate Father who laughs when we laugh and cries when we cry. The more we get to know Him, the more we come to love Him. It is, of course, a holy and respectful kind of love - He is entirely above us and worthy of our awe. But there is a warmth to Him that many people never feel. And we are called to feel it deeply.
How would we characterize our individual relationships with God? Cold and sterile? Distant and frustrating? It need not be any of these. It can actually be - dare I suggest it? - fun.
Yes, the wisdom of God - His mind, His ways, His character - can be beautiful and charming. He is not the cruel killjoy we often make Him out to be. And that's the great tragedy of sin: It fails to understand the amazing implications of knowing Him. It turns Him into someone He's not.
Learning the wisdom of God is not just an intellectual pursuit. It is a heartfelt pleasure in His personality. The presence of the Almighty can be an emotionally satisfying affection. His character is lovely, His words are charming. Abandon the image of the stern, distant God. His wrath toward us, though entirely legitimate, was poured out on Jesus. It has been fully satisfied. Our only response is to be fully satisfied in Him.
"We never better enjoy ourselves than when we most enjoy God." - Benjamin Whichcote
When we speak of learning God's wisdom and having the mind of Christ, it often sounds like we're sitting in a sterile classroom environment. We assume that we're being mentally trained in a new way of life. We are, but it's not in a cold, calculated transfer of information; it's a warm, wonderful learning experience, a hand-in-hand adventure with a loving Father who wants us to be like Him.
With God, familiarity does not breed contempt. It breeds passion and pleasure. We can dispense with the idea that we serve a cold, hard master. We can let go of the image of the ever-unsatisfied holiness of our Creator. He has satisfied His holy requirements Himself in the person of Jesus. What's left for us is an affectionate Father who laughs when we laugh and cries when we cry. The more we get to know Him, the more we come to love Him. It is, of course, a holy and respectful kind of love - He is entirely above us and worthy of our awe. But there is a warmth to Him that many people never feel. And we are called to feel it deeply.
How would we characterize our individual relationships with God? Cold and sterile? Distant and frustrating? It need not be any of these. It can actually be - dare I suggest it? - fun.
Yes, the wisdom of God - His mind, His ways, His character - can be beautiful and charming. He is not the cruel killjoy we often make Him out to be. And that's the great tragedy of sin: It fails to understand the amazing implications of knowing Him. It turns Him into someone He's not.
Learning the wisdom of God is not just an intellectual pursuit. It is a heartfelt pleasure in His personality. The presence of the Almighty can be an emotionally satisfying affection. His character is lovely, His words are charming. Abandon the image of the stern, distant God. His wrath toward us, though entirely legitimate, was poured out on Jesus. It has been fully satisfied. Our only response is to be fully satisfied in Him.
"We never better enjoy ourselves than when we most enjoy God." - Benjamin Whichcote
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Deception's Promise and Defeat
The Promise
Jeremiah 6:13-15
Jeremiah was given a difficult assignment. He was called to preach destruction to a people who would never believe him. He knew up front that his message would fail. Other prophets would succeed with their false message. But God told Jeremiah to preach the truth anyway.
We live in an age of acceptance. Anything goes. Morality, we're told, is relative; truth is too complicated to pin down, commitment is defined by the mood of the moment, and there are many different paths to "God." Tolerance is a code word meaning, "Don't preach to me. I've got not intention of changing." The false prophets of our age have a clear, persistent message: "Peace, peace." But there is no peace.
How we wish peace would come. We pray to the Prince of Peace and ask Him to rule our lives. He does, and He will. But He will fulfill the message He preached long ago in Galilee and Judea: God will judge the human revolt, and Jesus is the only way to escape the judgment. And that's not a popular message in an age of acceptance. Nothing will bring out intolerance in the "tolerant" ones like a message of exclusive redemption. But like Jeremiah, Christendom is faced with a choice: Preach the truth, even where it goes unheeded, or lie about the condition our race is in and the judgment that awaits it - all for the sake of "peace."
Deceptions abound in our world. Most of the effective ones sound pleasant to our ears; otherwise, they would not deceive us. God's Word sounds pleasant, too, but only to repentant ears. To the pride of self-sufficiency - the drug of choice for the human ego - His Word is detested. It is as thoroughly rejected as Jeremiah was. But it is true. Our generation has brought significant challenges to our faith. Our beliefs are not for the faint of heart. But as Isaiah promised, God's truth is the only water that quenches thirst and the only bread that is filling (Isa. 55:1-3).
The Defeat
Jeremiah 17:5-13
Not only can we be deceived by the false prophets of our age, we can also be deceived by our own hearts. We often embrace lies if they are emotionally satisfying, never discerning the final result of believing them. God's wisdom takes a backseat to our affections when our affections have not been rooted in Him. The fact of the heart's treachery is a huge affront to our ego. It's a tragic affront to our Father.
Such is the nature of human wisdom. It is dark and deceptive, shifty and shallow, misdirected and myopic. It rejects the present reality of eternity for the future hope of personal glory. It builds on shifting sand. And, according to God's Word in Jeremiah, it is beyond cure!
How tragic. How scary. How can the God of hope give us such a hopeless word? How can the promise of salvation be so unpromising? How can we continue to read the Bible after we've come across this desperate declaration? How can we be redeemed?
The answer is glorious. God promises later in Jeremiah to give His people a new heart (24:7). So what if our hearts are beyond cure? They are not beyond resurrection. Our dead hearts are not reformed or healed; they are raised to new life. They are replaced with ones that are real. God says it even more precisely in Ezekiel: "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" (36:26).
Only God can understand our hearts, and His assessment is utterly depressing if we do not know the rest of His plan. But He who discerns our deepest thoughts and most obscure deceptions (v. 10) offers us His pure and truthful Spirit to replace the corruption of our flesh. These dreaded prophecies do not end with dread, and the wisdom of God does not end with death. Those who embrace it find life - answers now, direction today, and character always.
Jeremiah 6:13-15
Jeremiah was given a difficult assignment. He was called to preach destruction to a people who would never believe him. He knew up front that his message would fail. Other prophets would succeed with their false message. But God told Jeremiah to preach the truth anyway.
We live in an age of acceptance. Anything goes. Morality, we're told, is relative; truth is too complicated to pin down, commitment is defined by the mood of the moment, and there are many different paths to "God." Tolerance is a code word meaning, "Don't preach to me. I've got not intention of changing." The false prophets of our age have a clear, persistent message: "Peace, peace." But there is no peace.
How we wish peace would come. We pray to the Prince of Peace and ask Him to rule our lives. He does, and He will. But He will fulfill the message He preached long ago in Galilee and Judea: God will judge the human revolt, and Jesus is the only way to escape the judgment. And that's not a popular message in an age of acceptance. Nothing will bring out intolerance in the "tolerant" ones like a message of exclusive redemption. But like Jeremiah, Christendom is faced with a choice: Preach the truth, even where it goes unheeded, or lie about the condition our race is in and the judgment that awaits it - all for the sake of "peace."
Deceptions abound in our world. Most of the effective ones sound pleasant to our ears; otherwise, they would not deceive us. God's Word sounds pleasant, too, but only to repentant ears. To the pride of self-sufficiency - the drug of choice for the human ego - His Word is detested. It is as thoroughly rejected as Jeremiah was. But it is true. Our generation has brought significant challenges to our faith. Our beliefs are not for the faint of heart. But as Isaiah promised, God's truth is the only water that quenches thirst and the only bread that is filling (Isa. 55:1-3).
The Defeat
Jeremiah 17:5-13
Not only can we be deceived by the false prophets of our age, we can also be deceived by our own hearts. We often embrace lies if they are emotionally satisfying, never discerning the final result of believing them. God's wisdom takes a backseat to our affections when our affections have not been rooted in Him. The fact of the heart's treachery is a huge affront to our ego. It's a tragic affront to our Father.
Such is the nature of human wisdom. It is dark and deceptive, shifty and shallow, misdirected and myopic. It rejects the present reality of eternity for the future hope of personal glory. It builds on shifting sand. And, according to God's Word in Jeremiah, it is beyond cure!
How tragic. How scary. How can the God of hope give us such a hopeless word? How can the promise of salvation be so unpromising? How can we continue to read the Bible after we've come across this desperate declaration? How can we be redeemed?
The answer is glorious. God promises later in Jeremiah to give His people a new heart (24:7). So what if our hearts are beyond cure? They are not beyond resurrection. Our dead hearts are not reformed or healed; they are raised to new life. They are replaced with ones that are real. God says it even more precisely in Ezekiel: "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" (36:26).
Only God can understand our hearts, and His assessment is utterly depressing if we do not know the rest of His plan. But He who discerns our deepest thoughts and most obscure deceptions (v. 10) offers us His pure and truthful Spirit to replace the corruption of our flesh. These dreaded prophecies do not end with dread, and the wisdom of God does not end with death. Those who embrace it find life - answers now, direction today, and character always.
Friday, October 8, 2010
A Holy Discontentment
"For it is we who are the circumcision, we who worship by the Spirit of God, who glory in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh... But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the suprassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. ... I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Phi. 3:3, 7-8, 10-11)
One of the very best indicators of the reality and depth and vitality of your relationship with Christ and mine is the issue of what we are content with and what we are discontent with in our lives. My answer to that tremendously important question is this: Be content with the gifts God has given you. Be discontent with the current state of your spiritual life. Be content, be happily, peacefully, and gratefully satisfied with any and every gift that our sovereign God has chosen to give you in his wisdom and love. Be discontent, zealously discontent, with your knowledge and experience of God—with the intensity with which you worship his majesty, with the depth and breadth with which you understand his truth revealed in Scripture, with the purity and holiness with which you seek his righteousness in your life, with the zeal and determination and drive with which you pursue his kingdom and its advance.
Perhaps a better term would be "holy dissatisfaction," for what I am talking about is a restless dissatisfaction with the current state of our walk with God that does not lead us into grumbling or coveting. It does not lead us into fretfulness or anxiety or hopelessness or fear. Rather this holy discontent, this holy dissatisfaction will lead us to a true humility and brokenness before the majestic and holy God whom we know so little due to our sin, and to an unquenchable thirst and a zealous desire to know and experience more of this God to the end that, in Paul's words, we might be "filled with all the fullness of God" (Eph. 3:19). That's what I long for in my own life and that's what I pray God will pour out on you all as well in great abundance.
Now this holy discontentment should be experienced in regard to the depth and vitality and richness of other relationships in our lives as well—with our marriages; with our relationships with our parents and our children; with the depth of fellowship and community among Christian brothers and sisters, in a cell group, for example; with the sincerity and fervency and practicality with which we love our neighbor, both friend and foe, as ourselves. But for us as Christians, the primary relationship in any of our lives must be with the Lord, and it is in terms of this relationship that our holy discontentment must be expressed most profoundly. That's where we see Paul's discontent in Philippians 3.
Paul's dissatisfaction came from his ability to look at himself accurately and honestly. Paul was humble enough to recognize the imperfections and sins that existed within his own being. May God pour out a spirit of humility on each of us so we too could heartily admit our own sin and weakness and imperfection. Take a long look at yourselves, brothers and sisters, in the mirror of the Word. Seasons of biblically saturated introspection are good for all of us. Now this introspection, if it is accurate and perceptive and done in integrity, will be humbling for our souls, but it will be very good for us in the long run. It will be good because a humble and accurate view of ourselves in all of our sin and imperfection is the first step in developing a holy discontentment.
There is always more of Christ to know and experience.
One of the very best indicators of the reality and depth and vitality of your relationship with Christ and mine is the issue of what we are content with and what we are discontent with in our lives. My answer to that tremendously important question is this: Be content with the gifts God has given you. Be discontent with the current state of your spiritual life. Be content, be happily, peacefully, and gratefully satisfied with any and every gift that our sovereign God has chosen to give you in his wisdom and love. Be discontent, zealously discontent, with your knowledge and experience of God—with the intensity with which you worship his majesty, with the depth and breadth with which you understand his truth revealed in Scripture, with the purity and holiness with which you seek his righteousness in your life, with the zeal and determination and drive with which you pursue his kingdom and its advance.
Perhaps a better term would be "holy dissatisfaction," for what I am talking about is a restless dissatisfaction with the current state of our walk with God that does not lead us into grumbling or coveting. It does not lead us into fretfulness or anxiety or hopelessness or fear. Rather this holy discontent, this holy dissatisfaction will lead us to a true humility and brokenness before the majestic and holy God whom we know so little due to our sin, and to an unquenchable thirst and a zealous desire to know and experience more of this God to the end that, in Paul's words, we might be "filled with all the fullness of God" (Eph. 3:19). That's what I long for in my own life and that's what I pray God will pour out on you all as well in great abundance.
Now this holy discontentment should be experienced in regard to the depth and vitality and richness of other relationships in our lives as well—with our marriages; with our relationships with our parents and our children; with the depth of fellowship and community among Christian brothers and sisters, in a cell group, for example; with the sincerity and fervency and practicality with which we love our neighbor, both friend and foe, as ourselves. But for us as Christians, the primary relationship in any of our lives must be with the Lord, and it is in terms of this relationship that our holy discontentment must be expressed most profoundly. That's where we see Paul's discontent in Philippians 3.
Paul's dissatisfaction came from his ability to look at himself accurately and honestly. Paul was humble enough to recognize the imperfections and sins that existed within his own being. May God pour out a spirit of humility on each of us so we too could heartily admit our own sin and weakness and imperfection. Take a long look at yourselves, brothers and sisters, in the mirror of the Word. Seasons of biblically saturated introspection are good for all of us. Now this introspection, if it is accurate and perceptive and done in integrity, will be humbling for our souls, but it will be very good for us in the long run. It will be good because a humble and accurate view of ourselves in all of our sin and imperfection is the first step in developing a holy discontentment.
There is always more of Christ to know and experience.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Peace Like a River
"If only you had paid attention to my commands, your peace would have been like a river, your righteousness like the waves of the sea." (Isa. 48:18)
If only. Those two words are small in their grammatical placement but enormous in their tragic implications. They mean that things could have been different. Much different. They mean that if the response of God's people had been other than it was, much heartache could have been avoided. Blessing would have flowed, but it didn't. If only.
Like Isaiah, we've spoken them, too. Everyone has regrets. That's part of living in a fallen world. We know if we had been more diligent and faithful, our lives today could be radically different than they turned out. Even if we're happy right now, we wonder what could have been and what would have been. Why? Because sooner or later we come to a melancholy realization: Life can always be better.
We seek the God of comfort to tell us why bad things have happened - why we're in debt, why we lost our job, why our family isn't a happy one, why our dreams aren't fulfilled. But deep down we know. It isn't because God let us down; it's because we let Him down. We didn't live up to His instructions. That dreaded rebellious streak that we all seem to have has led us in futile directions contrary to the explicit teaching of our Maker. We don't know what we were thinking when we went away from Him, but we want to come back. His plan is better; we know that now. We want to be restored to a place of peace like a river and righteousness like the sea.
That's the beauty of the gospel of grace. It never puts us in an unredeemable position. Whenever we say, "If only," God says, "Now you can." Maybe there are lost years, but they are past. God can redeem them for a bountiful future. The important thing is that we've learned that His voice is not demanding for His own ego but insistent for our own good. We can follow Him with trust that His way leads to peace and righteousness. We must follow Him with that trust. If we can, we'll be blessed. If only.
If only. Those two words are small in their grammatical placement but enormous in their tragic implications. They mean that things could have been different. Much different. They mean that if the response of God's people had been other than it was, much heartache could have been avoided. Blessing would have flowed, but it didn't. If only.
Like Isaiah, we've spoken them, too. Everyone has regrets. That's part of living in a fallen world. We know if we had been more diligent and faithful, our lives today could be radically different than they turned out. Even if we're happy right now, we wonder what could have been and what would have been. Why? Because sooner or later we come to a melancholy realization: Life can always be better.
We seek the God of comfort to tell us why bad things have happened - why we're in debt, why we lost our job, why our family isn't a happy one, why our dreams aren't fulfilled. But deep down we know. It isn't because God let us down; it's because we let Him down. We didn't live up to His instructions. That dreaded rebellious streak that we all seem to have has led us in futile directions contrary to the explicit teaching of our Maker. We don't know what we were thinking when we went away from Him, but we want to come back. His plan is better; we know that now. We want to be restored to a place of peace like a river and righteousness like the sea.
That's the beauty of the gospel of grace. It never puts us in an unredeemable position. Whenever we say, "If only," God says, "Now you can." Maybe there are lost years, but they are past. God can redeem them for a bountiful future. The important thing is that we've learned that His voice is not demanding for His own ego but insistent for our own good. We can follow Him with trust that His way leads to peace and righteousness. We must follow Him with that trust. If we can, we'll be blessed. If only.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Timing
"Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD." (Psa. 27:14)
Why does the Bible so insist on our waiting? We are given instruction after instruction to "wait on God." There is story after story about someone who wanted to rush Him - Abraham, Saul, Peter, and many, many more. Why are we always being told - not so subtly, either - to slow down?
Because our timing is almost invariably faster that God's. His agenda for a situation includes deep workings and intricate details. We just aim for superficial symptoms. He intends to grind His grain very, very fine - an excruciating work on our character that will not let coarseness remain. Or, to use another metaphor, He heats His ore long and hot, removing not just the impurities that can be seen with the naked eye, but all that exist. We usually don't care about such thoroughness. We want to get out of our difficult situation quickly or to achieve our successes suddenly. For us, time is of the essence. For God, time is essential.
A direct correlation to the wisdom we learn from God is the patience our hearts can tolerate. Foolishness is impatient. Wisdom knows the God who redeems us and can look patiently with hope toward His deliverance and His victory. We don't have to know how things will turn out; we know the God who is sovereign over the things.
So, what does that mean at a practical level? It means that answers to prayers often seem delayed in our own minds but are decisive in God's. It means that deliverance often seem slow to us, but to God it is already accomplished. It means that when we act on our impulses, we're violating His patient plans. It means that when our blood pressure is rising and our palms are sweating, God's voice is always saying, "Be still. Settle down. I am on My throne."
Can you hear Him? If you're in a rush, probably not. But how many times was Jesus in a rush? How often does the Word describe God as panicked? How many people who have invested their lives in Him have been let down in the end? Relax. Wait. Be strong and take heart.
Why does the Bible so insist on our waiting? We are given instruction after instruction to "wait on God." There is story after story about someone who wanted to rush Him - Abraham, Saul, Peter, and many, many more. Why are we always being told - not so subtly, either - to slow down?
Because our timing is almost invariably faster that God's. His agenda for a situation includes deep workings and intricate details. We just aim for superficial symptoms. He intends to grind His grain very, very fine - an excruciating work on our character that will not let coarseness remain. Or, to use another metaphor, He heats His ore long and hot, removing not just the impurities that can be seen with the naked eye, but all that exist. We usually don't care about such thoroughness. We want to get out of our difficult situation quickly or to achieve our successes suddenly. For us, time is of the essence. For God, time is essential.
A direct correlation to the wisdom we learn from God is the patience our hearts can tolerate. Foolishness is impatient. Wisdom knows the God who redeems us and can look patiently with hope toward His deliverance and His victory. We don't have to know how things will turn out; we know the God who is sovereign over the things.
So, what does that mean at a practical level? It means that answers to prayers often seem delayed in our own minds but are decisive in God's. It means that deliverance often seem slow to us, but to God it is already accomplished. It means that when we act on our impulses, we're violating His patient plans. It means that when our blood pressure is rising and our palms are sweating, God's voice is always saying, "Be still. Settle down. I am on My throne."
Can you hear Him? If you're in a rush, probably not. But how many times was Jesus in a rush? How often does the Word describe God as panicked? How many people who have invested their lives in Him have been let down in the end? Relax. Wait. Be strong and take heart.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Grace Amazing
So God laid this on my heart this morning: what is the true meaning of amazing Grace? It's how a person manifests their favor on, or pardons, someone else. But that's just normal grace. That can be granted from anyone at anytime. It's an earthly grace. Now, granted, I know grace is appreciated (in most cases) by whoever receives it. But it still falls short of Heaven. An earthly grace is granted by humans, who, by the fall, are laced throughout with a sinful nature. And humans, made in God's image, can possess the mercy to grant grace because God the Father does. But it's still human - it's not holy. Can you even begin to imagine - REALLY imagine - what a holy Grace would feel like? Some have felt it before. "We have done so not according to wordly wisdom but according to God's grace." (2 Cor. 1:12)
There's only one place to get grace like that: from a Holy God. A holy Grace is what you get when an invalid is made whole, when the very thing that caused your fears is taken away, it's what leads you when you need a way to get where you're going and then home again. I know that, several times in the past, I've been so caught up in myself that I didn't know up from down, black from white. I get lost in my despair and everything is dark. That's when, without any options or knowing which direction to turn, that same holy Grace has stepped in and brought me safe thus far, and has my fears relieved, and has led me home so that now I see. "But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them - yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me." (1 Cor. 15:10)
I also realized how easy it is to take Grace for granted. When we're raised in a Christian home and brought up knowing what to believe and what to say and how to act, it gets easy to fall into a routine of just following through with those things when we're supposed to, and all that "stuff" just becomes commonplace. We forget what Grace feels like. There is a grave danger in that. When we forget Grace, we fall away from Grace.
But here's the paradox - it's because of Grace that Jesus brought us back from a fall from Grace. "But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it." (Eph. 4:7) No matter what we've done or how black our sinful natures are, God grants us the Grace to return to Him. As finite humans, we tend to rebel and do what we want to do. And it's when we come back to the throne, and we offer ourselves and our sins to Him that we find Grace again. Some call it the song of the redeemed. Some choose the title "Amazing Grace." Either way, it is amazing and it wants us. You have a place in Grace.
"For it is by grace you have been saved..." (Eph 2:8)
Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
There's only one place to get grace like that: from a Holy God. A holy Grace is what you get when an invalid is made whole, when the very thing that caused your fears is taken away, it's what leads you when you need a way to get where you're going and then home again. I know that, several times in the past, I've been so caught up in myself that I didn't know up from down, black from white. I get lost in my despair and everything is dark. That's when, without any options or knowing which direction to turn, that same holy Grace has stepped in and brought me safe thus far, and has my fears relieved, and has led me home so that now I see. "But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them - yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me." (1 Cor. 15:10)
I also realized how easy it is to take Grace for granted. When we're raised in a Christian home and brought up knowing what to believe and what to say and how to act, it gets easy to fall into a routine of just following through with those things when we're supposed to, and all that "stuff" just becomes commonplace. We forget what Grace feels like. There is a grave danger in that. When we forget Grace, we fall away from Grace.
But here's the paradox - it's because of Grace that Jesus brought us back from a fall from Grace. "But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it." (Eph. 4:7) No matter what we've done or how black our sinful natures are, God grants us the Grace to return to Him. As finite humans, we tend to rebel and do what we want to do. And it's when we come back to the throne, and we offer ourselves and our sins to Him that we find Grace again. Some call it the song of the redeemed. Some choose the title "Amazing Grace." Either way, it is amazing and it wants us. You have a place in Grace.
"For it is by grace you have been saved..." (Eph 2:8)
Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
- John Newton (1725-1807)
Monday, September 27, 2010
Heart of a Servant
"...the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Matt. 20:28)
I was going to type out this whole long soapbox - correction: I HAD typed out this whole long soapbox on having the heart of a servant. However, I have since decided to let the Holy Bible speak for itself. Therefore, I give you the 4 Servant Songs. They're pretty long (especially the last one), so I understand if you don't feel like sitting through them. If you don't, though, you're short-changing yourself. It's nitty-gritty, bare-boned gospel (in the OT), and it's GOOD! The 4 Servant Songs:
The first Servant Song:
"'Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him and he will bring justice to the nations. He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth. In his law the islands will put their hope.' This is what God the Lord says - he who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and all that comes out of it, who gives breath to its people, and life to those who walk on it: 'I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.'" (Isa. 42:1-7)
The second Servant Song:
"Listen to me, you islands, hear this, you distant nations: Before I was born the Lord called me; from my birth he has made mention of my name. He made my mouth like a sharpened sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me into a polished arrow and concealed me in his quiver. He said to me, 'You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will display my splendor.' But I said, 'I have labored to no purpose; I have spent my strength in vain and for nothing. Yet what is due me is in the Lord's hand, and my reward is with my God.' And now the Lord says - he who formed me in the womb to be his servant to bring Jacob back to him and gather Israel to himself, for I am honored in the eyes of the Lord and my God has been my strength - he says: 'It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.' This is what the Lord says - the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel - to him who was despised and abhorred by the nation, to the servant of rulers: 'Kings will see you and rise up, princes will see and bow down, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.'" (Isa. 49:1-6)
The third Servant Song:
"The Sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue, to know the word that sustains the weary. He wakens me morning by morning, wakens my ear to listen like one being taught. The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears, and I have not been rebellious; I have not drawn back. I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting. Because the Sovereign Lord helps me, I will not be disgraced. Therefore have I set my face like flint, and I know I will not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near. Who then will bring charges against me? Let us face each other! Who is my accuser? Let him confront me! It is the Sovereign Lord who helps me. Who is he that will condemn me? They will all wear out like a garment; the moths will eat them up." (Isa. 50:4-9)
The fourth Servant Song:
"See, my servant will act wisely; he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted. Just as there were many who were appalled at him - his appearance was so disfigured and his form marred beyond human likeness - so will he sprinkle many nations, and kings will shut their mouths because of him. For what they were not told, they will see, and what they have not heard, they will understand. Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And who can speak of his descendants? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was stricken. He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth. Yet it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the Lord makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." (Isa. 52:13-53:12)
Now do you see why it's so important for us to die to ourselves and be a servant to someone else?
Man, I could preach a whole sermon on this.....
I was going to type out this whole long soapbox - correction: I HAD typed out this whole long soapbox on having the heart of a servant. However, I have since decided to let the Holy Bible speak for itself. Therefore, I give you the 4 Servant Songs. They're pretty long (especially the last one), so I understand if you don't feel like sitting through them. If you don't, though, you're short-changing yourself. It's nitty-gritty, bare-boned gospel (in the OT), and it's GOOD! The 4 Servant Songs:
The first Servant Song:
"'Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him and he will bring justice to the nations. He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth. In his law the islands will put their hope.' This is what God the Lord says - he who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and all that comes out of it, who gives breath to its people, and life to those who walk on it: 'I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.'" (Isa. 42:1-7)
The second Servant Song:
"Listen to me, you islands, hear this, you distant nations: Before I was born the Lord called me; from my birth he has made mention of my name. He made my mouth like a sharpened sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me into a polished arrow and concealed me in his quiver. He said to me, 'You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will display my splendor.' But I said, 'I have labored to no purpose; I have spent my strength in vain and for nothing. Yet what is due me is in the Lord's hand, and my reward is with my God.' And now the Lord says - he who formed me in the womb to be his servant to bring Jacob back to him and gather Israel to himself, for I am honored in the eyes of the Lord and my God has been my strength - he says: 'It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.' This is what the Lord says - the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel - to him who was despised and abhorred by the nation, to the servant of rulers: 'Kings will see you and rise up, princes will see and bow down, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.'" (Isa. 49:1-6)
The third Servant Song:
"The Sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue, to know the word that sustains the weary. He wakens me morning by morning, wakens my ear to listen like one being taught. The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears, and I have not been rebellious; I have not drawn back. I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting. Because the Sovereign Lord helps me, I will not be disgraced. Therefore have I set my face like flint, and I know I will not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near. Who then will bring charges against me? Let us face each other! Who is my accuser? Let him confront me! It is the Sovereign Lord who helps me. Who is he that will condemn me? They will all wear out like a garment; the moths will eat them up." (Isa. 50:4-9)
The fourth Servant Song:
"See, my servant will act wisely; he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted. Just as there were many who were appalled at him - his appearance was so disfigured and his form marred beyond human likeness - so will he sprinkle many nations, and kings will shut their mouths because of him. For what they were not told, they will see, and what they have not heard, they will understand. Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And who can speak of his descendants? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was stricken. He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth. Yet it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the Lord makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors." (Isa. 52:13-53:12)
Now do you see why it's so important for us to die to ourselves and be a servant to someone else?
Man, I could preach a whole sermon on this.....
Love Them.
Ok, so I know I haven't done this in a while, but I'm gonna try another soapbox. I'm gonna start with the bottom line: love them. We are called to love. Have you ever been driving and found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs at another driver who cut you off or just won't drive fast enough? Or found yourself talking about or making fun of someone behind their back? We like to express ourselves in the most effective way possible. Sometimes we express frustration through a visible show of anger. Sometimes we express humor at the expense of someone else's dignity. Please don't misunderstand me - by no means am I claiming that just because we do these things, we do not love someone. We are simply choosing to express these different emotions rather than what we should be portraying - love. However, if we do not show them we love them, what proof is there for them to believe otherwise?
The word "love," or any form of it (loves, loved, etc.), is mentioned in the NIV Bible 697 times; in the KJV 442 times. If something is mentioned that many times in the Bible, shouldn't we pay attention to it? It's as hard for me as it is for anybody, especially in my profession. Both of these examples have been my downfall, and I know I deserve nothing less than hell for it. It's hard for me to die to myself and let Christ express His love for another person through me. I don't want to let go of myself because of what it might mean to my "social image," either at work or my day-to-day life or, even worse, at church. It's sad. It really is sad that I can't live outside of myself and let Elyon take me away.
The beauty of all this is that "we love because He first loved us" (1 John 4:19). Did you get that? HE first loved US. We were brought to life by HIS hand. If it weren't for God's love, we wouldn't even have the ability to love. That being said, it is really our inherent duty as Christians and really as creations to love. Not because, in our sinful nature, we want to. No, in our sinful nature there is nothing but death and hate. No, we are CALLED to love. It is a commandment. "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." (1 Cor. 13:13)
My point is this: it is our obligation to love. That is the internal battle you see inside the little boy at the lunch table. He sees the class outcast sitting at a table by himself and is not sure whether or not to go sit with him. When did it become social taboo to outwardly love someone? We were created out of love. By God's grace, for those who accept Him, we get to die in love. We know that, because He loved us, we have some inate sense of love and how we're supposed to love. But because we're human, we get in the way of ourselves. Our own selfish convenience can sometimes overshadow love.
God sent His only son out of love. Jesus Christ died for me out of love. His is a holy Love, and it is the perfect example of the love we are to express. Because He died for my sake, shouldn't I at least die to myself for the sake of someone else? Wouldn't that be a true witness? By simply being creations of a Holy God, don't they deserve that much?
"If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." (1 Cor. 13:3)
The word "love," or any form of it (loves, loved, etc.), is mentioned in the NIV Bible 697 times; in the KJV 442 times. If something is mentioned that many times in the Bible, shouldn't we pay attention to it? It's as hard for me as it is for anybody, especially in my profession. Both of these examples have been my downfall, and I know I deserve nothing less than hell for it. It's hard for me to die to myself and let Christ express His love for another person through me. I don't want to let go of myself because of what it might mean to my "social image," either at work or my day-to-day life or, even worse, at church. It's sad. It really is sad that I can't live outside of myself and let Elyon take me away.
The beauty of all this is that "we love because He first loved us" (1 John 4:19). Did you get that? HE first loved US. We were brought to life by HIS hand. If it weren't for God's love, we wouldn't even have the ability to love. That being said, it is really our inherent duty as Christians and really as creations to love. Not because, in our sinful nature, we want to. No, in our sinful nature there is nothing but death and hate. No, we are CALLED to love. It is a commandment. "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." (1 Cor. 13:13)
My point is this: it is our obligation to love. That is the internal battle you see inside the little boy at the lunch table. He sees the class outcast sitting at a table by himself and is not sure whether or not to go sit with him. When did it become social taboo to outwardly love someone? We were created out of love. By God's grace, for those who accept Him, we get to die in love. We know that, because He loved us, we have some inate sense of love and how we're supposed to love. But because we're human, we get in the way of ourselves. Our own selfish convenience can sometimes overshadow love.
God sent His only son out of love. Jesus Christ died for me out of love. His is a holy Love, and it is the perfect example of the love we are to express. Because He died for my sake, shouldn't I at least die to myself for the sake of someone else? Wouldn't that be a true witness? By simply being creations of a Holy God, don't they deserve that much?
"If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." (1 Cor. 13:3)
First, Kingdom and righteousness, and then...
Have you ever been blindsided by something so big and blunt and obvious that you don't know how you didn't see it before? And the fact that you're so relieved you now see it completely outweighs the fact that it was so big and blunt and obvious in the first place?
After being buried in Matthew 6 for a week, God has completely changed the way I see my relationship with Him. Sometimes we wander and we wonder for so long that we forget what that relationship feels like and we forget what on earth it is that we're doing. And then suddenly, that void is there again, but you don't notice it getting bigger and bigger because you fill up every minute with stuff. One thing I've learned in the past week is that God has a unique way of blindsiding each of us to bring us back. It can be anything from a relationship here on earth to an obsession to nothing at all.
I'll speak from the point of view of the obsession, because that was my bait. After thinking and plotting and worrying for days on end, God finally stepped on my brain and said to me, "STOP!" That's when the question to end all questions occurred to me - how different would my life be if only I obsessed about my relationship with Yahweh like I obsessed about my obsession? The conviction was evident and the answer was obvious.
THE POINT: It goes straight back to the spiritual warfare. Satan is constantly trying to grapple and paw at us until all we see is what he wants us to see. God puts these incredible and fascinating things in our lives, but then we have a tendency to become enraptured by them. Satan sees that inflamed desire and tries to take advantage of it by feeding it to us until it pushes Jesus Christ out of our lives. That's where Matthew 6:33 comes in. "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well."
Whatever the reason, once you start to seek his kingdom and his righteousness first, the rest of your life will fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. You begin to either develop or renew a relationship with the Creator. Even if you feel yourself beginning to drift, ask yourself that same question I had to face: how different would my life be if only I obsessed about my relationship with Yahweh like I obsessed about my obsession?
When it comes to Christ, obsession is a two-way street, so get moving.
After being buried in Matthew 6 for a week, God has completely changed the way I see my relationship with Him. Sometimes we wander and we wonder for so long that we forget what that relationship feels like and we forget what on earth it is that we're doing. And then suddenly, that void is there again, but you don't notice it getting bigger and bigger because you fill up every minute with stuff. One thing I've learned in the past week is that God has a unique way of blindsiding each of us to bring us back. It can be anything from a relationship here on earth to an obsession to nothing at all.
I'll speak from the point of view of the obsession, because that was my bait. After thinking and plotting and worrying for days on end, God finally stepped on my brain and said to me, "STOP!" That's when the question to end all questions occurred to me - how different would my life be if only I obsessed about my relationship with Yahweh like I obsessed about my obsession? The conviction was evident and the answer was obvious.
THE POINT: It goes straight back to the spiritual warfare. Satan is constantly trying to grapple and paw at us until all we see is what he wants us to see. God puts these incredible and fascinating things in our lives, but then we have a tendency to become enraptured by them. Satan sees that inflamed desire and tries to take advantage of it by feeding it to us until it pushes Jesus Christ out of our lives. That's where Matthew 6:33 comes in. "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well."
Whatever the reason, once you start to seek his kingdom and his righteousness first, the rest of your life will fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. You begin to either develop or renew a relationship with the Creator. Even if you feel yourself beginning to drift, ask yourself that same question I had to face: how different would my life be if only I obsessed about my relationship with Yahweh like I obsessed about my obsession?
When it comes to Christ, obsession is a two-way street, so get moving.
Where the Passion is
It's time for me to try this whole blog thing again. Spiritual warfare is worse in these days than it has ever been. I know I'm not an expert on the subject; and if I were to go into it alone, I would fall down lifeless. But sometimes you can affect someone's life so much, or allow the Holy Spirit's majesty to shine from your core so much, that Satan himself feels threatened. And I know this is a loaded topic - so much so that people either don't want to think about it, or they're simply not prepared for it. You can do everything right, and you still feel so discouraged, like nothing you've done has been worth it.
Well here's the kicker: the smallest seed is more than worth it. God has promised us that He will never let us get to that point where we just can't handle a burden. "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." - 1 Cor. 10:13. Satan knows that. That's why he attacks before people ever get a chance to plant that seed. Then it goes unnoticed, and no one ever thinks about it again. But he doesn't let up. Lucifer keeps piling it on so that we will never again be able to find that seed. That's where encouragement comes in.
God has given us His Word, as well as His church, for guidance and encouragement. Whatever question you have, you can find the answer by reading. We have friends and a faith family to lift us up; to say, "I love you no matter what. Through Jesus Christ you are a good person, and He does good things with you." Everyday we walk through a battle zone, and everyday someone is lost to the battle zone. God puts our friends in the right place at the right time to tell us what we need to hear. They're our "out." Not one who has ever put his faith in Christ Jesus has been lost to the battle zone. You can find solace in knowing that the battle has already been won, and those who trust in Jesus Christ alone are on the winning side. You don't have to worry about it, because the victory's already been claimed.
We are Christians. Therefore it is our birthright that we be persecuted for our faith. So I say bring it on! Because knowing what I know about God's promise to give us an "out," no amount of persecution could ever strike me down. "I will never leave you nor forsake you." - Jos. 1:5.
And that is where the Passion is.
Well here's the kicker: the smallest seed is more than worth it. God has promised us that He will never let us get to that point where we just can't handle a burden. "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." - 1 Cor. 10:13. Satan knows that. That's why he attacks before people ever get a chance to plant that seed. Then it goes unnoticed, and no one ever thinks about it again. But he doesn't let up. Lucifer keeps piling it on so that we will never again be able to find that seed. That's where encouragement comes in.
God has given us His Word, as well as His church, for guidance and encouragement. Whatever question you have, you can find the answer by reading. We have friends and a faith family to lift us up; to say, "I love you no matter what. Through Jesus Christ you are a good person, and He does good things with you." Everyday we walk through a battle zone, and everyday someone is lost to the battle zone. God puts our friends in the right place at the right time to tell us what we need to hear. They're our "out." Not one who has ever put his faith in Christ Jesus has been lost to the battle zone. You can find solace in knowing that the battle has already been won, and those who trust in Jesus Christ alone are on the winning side. You don't have to worry about it, because the victory's already been claimed.
We are Christians. Therefore it is our birthright that we be persecuted for our faith. So I say bring it on! Because knowing what I know about God's promise to give us an "out," no amount of persecution could ever strike me down. "I will never leave you nor forsake you." - Jos. 1:5.
And that is where the Passion is.
A Simple Prayer
Lord, help me to fill my life with things holy instead of those things that cause me to look away from my need for You - that cause me to look away from You. You are everything in and around me. You saturate the very earth I walk on and You are in every breath I breathe. You are the reason for all the good things in my life, and for all the bad - and for that I thank you. Father, reach down in me and pull out my soul to make it a mirror of Your character. Without You I have nothing, I do nothing, I say nothing, I am nothing. Yahweh, please don't change only my core - also change my thoughts, my mind, my face. Let me know you in a deeper way - a way in which I drown in You, in which You are the only thing I can breathe into my lungs. Majesty, only You can fill my hunger. Engulf me. Saturate me. I love you.
Desperately Your servant
Desperately Your servant
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