"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
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
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.
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