Jesus was born in a stable in Bethlehem. It was hidden - nobody was expecting or preparing for it. Mary and Joseph had no reservation. They burst upon the scene..."any room?" That any child would emerge in such circumstances would be stressful to any parent who hopes for better. But for God's promised child? Jesus is the "light of the world" (John 8:12). Yet, Chesterton described the setting and occasion of his birth as "beneath the floor of the world", by which I think he meant that, other than a few shepherds and wise men from the east, the whole world neglected to look for him there.
We also neglect to look for Jesus in the right place in our hearts. The place we need to look is often the place we would most want to forget. For us, this is the most obstinate part of our heart, where we store our idols, the one part of our life we hold back from God, even if we were otherwise the picture of perfection. It is the place where we feel we need Christ least. Without surrendering here, we still haven't surrendered. But we rarely know it exists. We overlook it, in the same way the world overlooked Bethlehem 2000 years ago. It is the "dark stable" of our heart. It is where Christ comes to us, but we don't notice.
A word about the word "dark". Christ's stable in Bethlehem was dark. It was nighttime. Sleepytime. But the stable in our heart is spiritually dark. It is the same darkness that Jesus talked about before he went to the cross - "the hour of darkness" - when Satan arms himself with all of his power to go up against Jesus. It is at that hour, when Satan is at his mightiest and when Christ is at his weakest, that our victory is won. The darkness has exhausted itself and has ended. In Christ's resurrection, the light of the world has filled our lives with the same light.
And yet we who are in Christ are simultaneously justified and sinners. We have the fullness of his life. Yet, we will do what we can to resist him. We still hide from God, and we must look to Christ and find our true life in him or else we will lose it. This "dark stable" is where we must look. Where is that? The one place we don't want to look. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the renowned German pastor noted for his opposition to the Nazis, knew how we deceive ourselves: "The word of forgiveness is invariably a concrete word for concrete sins. If I do not want to hear it concretely because I want to retain this part of my life for myself, I cannot hear the word of forgiveness at all. For every other area in my life I soon turn the Word of God into a drug - and one soon tires of drugs as a rule. The grace of God becomes, in the end, reduced to the grace I grant myself." (Spiritual Care, p. 33, underlinings mine)
"This part of my life." As we look for meaning this Christmas in events, parties, the giving and receiving of gifts, traveling, and meals, where aren't we looking? When Jesus was born, everyone was looking to power and might to give meaning. Where weren't they looking? I pray we will have a chance this Advent to come to a place of perfect humility to receive Jesus Christ anew into our lives. And I pray his perfect light will be cast into every corner of our hearts.
1) What parts of your day are you glad, and even excited to give to God?
2) What parts of your day are you unwilling to share with him?
3) I invite you to "come clean" with God today. Try reading Psalm 80 and praying a prayer like it to get to a deeper part of yourself. Then, as you reflect on all God has done for you, I invite you to look at Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 5:17-21. Jesus has taken on all our burdens. His gift to us is that we might become the righteousness of God.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Does Prayer Change Things? (Reflection on 9/15 message)
Jesus told us to expect prayer to change things. Sunday's message spoke deeply to me about how Jesus clearly expected prayer to bring change, and taught us to expect the same.
Perhaps this was the atmosphere of Jesus' prayers - he expected change. And then he lived out his prayers. He prayed with deep intimacy with a powerful God. Then he lived in a deep intimacy with a powerful God. The disciples recognized that as the man prayed, so he lived. Wading into deeper waters in our prayer life with God will bring us deeper into a God-filled life.
Pastor Francis Chan talks about a memory from camp early in his life. Waking up to have a quiet time with God, he saw the camp speaker across a field. Noticing the speaker was having his own quiet time with God, Francis became convinced for the first time that "he probably talks to God differently than I do." He realized that there are degrees of intimacy with God.
I have been with people who are much more conversational with God than I am. I have been with people who have a deep stillness that pervades their lives and also their prayer lives. I feel as Francis did: "this person talks to God differently than I do." And I realize that there's another degree of intimacy with God ahead of me.
This is not about who God likes better. In Christ, salvation has been made available for all. We often feel that others have it easier than we do when it comes to God. It is much more likely that we are on a level playing field with God and he doesn't have 'favorites.' What I mean is that some people really do know the God they are talking to! It seems there are degrees of intimacy with God.
One way to put this is that most of us pray as though God hasn't really done anything until he begins by giving me the very thing I am asking for right now. You may know the feeling. Instinctively, I cry out to God, but am deeply suspicious that he won't answer my prayer - "well, he's never really given me anything before!" "Well, maybe if I make some kind of deal with him"...and so on. But what about what God has already done? I don't mean just for myself as in just counting my blessings. I am referring to the story of salvation the Bible tells. The next degree of intimacy from expecting God to start doing something for me is to ask what has God already done. The next degree of intimacy is to pray to God what we read in Scripture.
For instance, when Jesus dies, he says the words, "It is finished." (John 19:30). What does he mean by that? His life, his work, his ministry - we would have a hard time limiting the scope of these, his last words. Our prayer shouldn't limit them either. I'm not just saying we should be thankful for what we already have. My point is this: how does knowing what God has already given us shape what we desire and want now? How would we pray if we knew what Jesus meant when he said "it is finished?
I don't think we would pray less. I think we would pray more. I don't think we would be more satisfied with things as they are. I think we would get hungrier to see more of God, and to see more justice, mercy, and peace. The reason I think this is because when we pray as though Jesus' work really is finished, then it reminds us that God wins. We aren't fighting a losing battle with him. The cross (and resurrection) is D-Day for the ultimate victory that God will have at the end. Remembering this victory lends expectation, excitement, and eagerness to my dull prayers.
This isn't a ticket to being happy in the midst of sad times. This is a dark and sinful world. However, it is a clue as to how Acts 5:41 could possibly happen: "The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name." Who would ever rejoice at that? The answer is: people who pray to God all the more because they see the work that God has already finished.
1) What prayer are you still waiting for God to answer?
2) How might thinking of Jesus' last words - "it is finished" - affect the way you pray to God? What is 'finished' about what Jesus has done for you?
Perhaps this was the atmosphere of Jesus' prayers - he expected change. And then he lived out his prayers. He prayed with deep intimacy with a powerful God. Then he lived in a deep intimacy with a powerful God. The disciples recognized that as the man prayed, so he lived. Wading into deeper waters in our prayer life with God will bring us deeper into a God-filled life.
Pastor Francis Chan talks about a memory from camp early in his life. Waking up to have a quiet time with God, he saw the camp speaker across a field. Noticing the speaker was having his own quiet time with God, Francis became convinced for the first time that "he probably talks to God differently than I do." He realized that there are degrees of intimacy with God.
I have been with people who are much more conversational with God than I am. I have been with people who have a deep stillness that pervades their lives and also their prayer lives. I feel as Francis did: "this person talks to God differently than I do." And I realize that there's another degree of intimacy with God ahead of me.
This is not about who God likes better. In Christ, salvation has been made available for all. We often feel that others have it easier than we do when it comes to God. It is much more likely that we are on a level playing field with God and he doesn't have 'favorites.' What I mean is that some people really do know the God they are talking to! It seems there are degrees of intimacy with God.
One way to put this is that most of us pray as though God hasn't really done anything until he begins by giving me the very thing I am asking for right now. You may know the feeling. Instinctively, I cry out to God, but am deeply suspicious that he won't answer my prayer - "well, he's never really given me anything before!" "Well, maybe if I make some kind of deal with him"...and so on. But what about what God has already done? I don't mean just for myself as in just counting my blessings. I am referring to the story of salvation the Bible tells. The next degree of intimacy from expecting God to start doing something for me is to ask what has God already done. The next degree of intimacy is to pray to God what we read in Scripture.
For instance, when Jesus dies, he says the words, "It is finished." (John 19:30). What does he mean by that? His life, his work, his ministry - we would have a hard time limiting the scope of these, his last words. Our prayer shouldn't limit them either. I'm not just saying we should be thankful for what we already have. My point is this: how does knowing what God has already given us shape what we desire and want now? How would we pray if we knew what Jesus meant when he said "it is finished?
I don't think we would pray less. I think we would pray more. I don't think we would be more satisfied with things as they are. I think we would get hungrier to see more of God, and to see more justice, mercy, and peace. The reason I think this is because when we pray as though Jesus' work really is finished, then it reminds us that God wins. We aren't fighting a losing battle with him. The cross (and resurrection) is D-Day for the ultimate victory that God will have at the end. Remembering this victory lends expectation, excitement, and eagerness to my dull prayers.
This isn't a ticket to being happy in the midst of sad times. This is a dark and sinful world. However, it is a clue as to how Acts 5:41 could possibly happen: "The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name." Who would ever rejoice at that? The answer is: people who pray to God all the more because they see the work that God has already finished.
1) What prayer are you still waiting for God to answer?
2) How might thinking of Jesus' last words - "it is finished" - affect the way you pray to God? What is 'finished' about what Jesus has done for you?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Worth Waiting For (Reflection on July 21 Message)
The Apostle John loved to talk about 'light' and 'darkness'. Here are a few examples. "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:5) "...God is light, in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin." (1 John 1:5-7)
Light and darkness are ways for John to talk about God's incomparable goodness and the evil that is the result of sin in the world.
I guess I've always struggled with this idea. Of course, walking in light means following Jesus, but don't we all walk in darkness some time - even a lot of the time? How does the all-or-nothing vision of light and darkness leave any room for the Christian, who is simultaneously light and darkness - a sinner and justified in Christ?
I was up early this morning to pray - seated on Jess' and my back porch. The world outside was dark and quiet except for the jarring hum of someone's air conditioning unit getting started. I was waiting for a sense of dependence on the Lord; waiting for a moment of realization that I need the Lord so much more than any of the other things I think I need this early in the day. Every few minutes I noticed that the sky had grown a little brighter since I last looked.
I thought about light and darkness and about the Apostle John. He talked a lot about light and darkness. I wondered if he liked to get up early and watch the sunrise. Did what he saw there of light and darkness remind him of the way God works?
As I watched the dawning of a new day, two things occurred to me. The first is that the light really does drive the darkness away. The shadows flee from daylight. The second thing I noticed is that this happens slowly. Every few minutes there's a little more light. The sky is more blue. The grass is more green. The clouds are more white. My porch rug is more...well, whatever that color is, and everything is less black. This happens gradually, even slowly.
Light drives out darkness in our lives in this way too. Through faith in Christ's victory over death, the light has dawned in our lives. Everywhere in our minds, hearts, and actions where we allow that light to take center stage, it drives out all darkness. They can't co-exist. But this also happens gradually. It happens over time. We have to be patient.
I think this also connects to God's word to us on Sunday and throughout the series on the fruit of the Spirit. Galatians 5:22-23 talks about love, joy, peace, patience, etc. as the fruit of the one Holy Spirit. If he lives inside us - and if you are in Christ, he does - then we already have all of these qualities listed growing inside of us. We aren't missing any. But among them is 'patience'. We still have to wait for something. We are filled with light through the Holy Spirit's presence within us. He unites us to Christ in his death and resurrection so that we are like him. But that light drives out the darkness gradually. It takes place over time. I think that is why, among so many other virtues, the Spirit fills us with patience. We are given patience with ourselves and with our rate of spiritual growth. We are also given patience to see the work that God is doing in us all the time.
Light has dawned in Christ. Let the Holy Spirit do his work of driving out the darkness in your life one minute, one day, one month, one year at a time.
1) Do you sometimes wish the full light of day would arrive quicker in your life? In other words, do you become impatient with your growth in Christ-likeness?
2) When has your patience been most tested with God and his new life for you? What have you done to find peace in the waiting?
Light and darkness are ways for John to talk about God's incomparable goodness and the evil that is the result of sin in the world.
I guess I've always struggled with this idea. Of course, walking in light means following Jesus, but don't we all walk in darkness some time - even a lot of the time? How does the all-or-nothing vision of light and darkness leave any room for the Christian, who is simultaneously light and darkness - a sinner and justified in Christ?
I was up early this morning to pray - seated on Jess' and my back porch. The world outside was dark and quiet except for the jarring hum of someone's air conditioning unit getting started. I was waiting for a sense of dependence on the Lord; waiting for a moment of realization that I need the Lord so much more than any of the other things I think I need this early in the day. Every few minutes I noticed that the sky had grown a little brighter since I last looked.
I thought about light and darkness and about the Apostle John. He talked a lot about light and darkness. I wondered if he liked to get up early and watch the sunrise. Did what he saw there of light and darkness remind him of the way God works?
As I watched the dawning of a new day, two things occurred to me. The first is that the light really does drive the darkness away. The shadows flee from daylight. The second thing I noticed is that this happens slowly. Every few minutes there's a little more light. The sky is more blue. The grass is more green. The clouds are more white. My porch rug is more...well, whatever that color is, and everything is less black. This happens gradually, even slowly.
Light drives out darkness in our lives in this way too. Through faith in Christ's victory over death, the light has dawned in our lives. Everywhere in our minds, hearts, and actions where we allow that light to take center stage, it drives out all darkness. They can't co-exist. But this also happens gradually. It happens over time. We have to be patient.
I think this also connects to God's word to us on Sunday and throughout the series on the fruit of the Spirit. Galatians 5:22-23 talks about love, joy, peace, patience, etc. as the fruit of the one Holy Spirit. If he lives inside us - and if you are in Christ, he does - then we already have all of these qualities listed growing inside of us. We aren't missing any. But among them is 'patience'. We still have to wait for something. We are filled with light through the Holy Spirit's presence within us. He unites us to Christ in his death and resurrection so that we are like him. But that light drives out the darkness gradually. It takes place over time. I think that is why, among so many other virtues, the Spirit fills us with patience. We are given patience with ourselves and with our rate of spiritual growth. We are also given patience to see the work that God is doing in us all the time.
Light has dawned in Christ. Let the Holy Spirit do his work of driving out the darkness in your life one minute, one day, one month, one year at a time.
1) Do you sometimes wish the full light of day would arrive quicker in your life? In other words, do you become impatient with your growth in Christ-likeness?
2) When has your patience been most tested with God and his new life for you? What have you done to find peace in the waiting?
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Strangers or Family? (Reflection on June 9 Message)
Hearing Jeff reflect on his time in China reminded me of other great, but unlikely friendships that developed in Christ. I remember going to Mexico on a mission trip two years ago. Jessica went too, as did three other families with their children. We spent time with a small Mexican Presbyterian church everyday. One day we went to the beach. Another day we played football (not our football, but the world's football - soccer). We talked about sharing the good news of Jesus with young people. Strangers became family. We had never met them before. By the end of the week, we were in a church member's home for dinner. This member, a baker by profession, had baked us a magnificent cake. Our families all intermingled. New-born Mexican babies were being cradled by kids from Indiana. I remember wondering to myself, "How does this happen? How is it that this is so much better than a vacation? And why is it when I meet new people in the U.S. that we're not having cake together before the week is done?" Strangers become family. But why does it happen when it does, and why doesn't it happen when we want it to?
Let me answer by way of Sunday's passage. The passage is about prayer. "Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should." (Colossians 4:2-4). Paul is the great spiritual leader - the apostle. The Colossians he writes to are probably new believers. Common sense tells us that God will listen to Paul. Military folks know about a chain of command. But even generals have to limit who has input, who they listen to. God has the ability to hear everyone. This is God's greatness - "He is not like us humans with our limited capacity, our inability to give full attention to many people at one time. He is all-knowing, all-seeking, ever-present, able to focus with love on each one of us individually. God shows no favoritism, for each of His children is a favorite." (Warren and Ruth Myers, Experiencing God's Attributes, 23)
We all want to be the general sometimes. I'm sure Paul had his moments of wanting to be the one in charge. But he knew God. God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - eternally loving one another. We aren't God. But in thinking we are, we have turned in on ourselves. "Me, me, me!" cries each person's heart in this world. But in Christ, God has turned his enemies into friends, strangers into family. The self-oriented, sin nature is put to death. God is holy, loving, and relational to his core. Knowing him, raised to new life in him, we become like him - rejoicing in growing new relationships. Strangers aren't really strangers, for in Christ, we are no longer strangers to God. Enemies aren't really enemies, for in Christ, we are no longer God's enemies.
Relationships take time. Paul mentions 11 names in the letter's last section. The Paul-Colossae connection isn't a simple friendship or an acquaintence. It is more like a web - each strand connecting to many people. Why do some relationships grow and others don't? Trace the web. How far back does it go? And is it built on Christ? Back to Mexico - my team was eating cake in someone's home. But it wasn't because we all make friends easy. Years of financial support, personal presence, and prayer had built this relationship. Our Mexican friends didn't know us. But they knew the ones we represented. Every relationship we have should likewise be built on Christ so that we all grow in a holy, outward love together. It starts with what is true about God in Scripture: We can know him. Through Christ, we can dwell in his holy presence. Through his Holy Spirit, we can grow in Christ's likeness. Receive God. The desire of our Father is for us to know love. Having made us family through Jesus' death and resurrection, he will not forsake the rest of the work of making us feel at home.
1) We were once enemies of God. Through Jesus, we are now family. Enemies to family - how do you describe how close our relationship is with God?
2) In this world, unfortunately, even families are subject to the pervasive effects of sin. How does the notion of being a part of God's family give us strength for our difficult, strained relationships?
3) Think of the people the last question brought to mind for you and pray for them.
Let me answer by way of Sunday's passage. The passage is about prayer. "Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should." (Colossians 4:2-4). Paul is the great spiritual leader - the apostle. The Colossians he writes to are probably new believers. Common sense tells us that God will listen to Paul. Military folks know about a chain of command. But even generals have to limit who has input, who they listen to. God has the ability to hear everyone. This is God's greatness - "He is not like us humans with our limited capacity, our inability to give full attention to many people at one time. He is all-knowing, all-seeking, ever-present, able to focus with love on each one of us individually. God shows no favoritism, for each of His children is a favorite." (Warren and Ruth Myers, Experiencing God's Attributes, 23)
We all want to be the general sometimes. I'm sure Paul had his moments of wanting to be the one in charge. But he knew God. God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - eternally loving one another. We aren't God. But in thinking we are, we have turned in on ourselves. "Me, me, me!" cries each person's heart in this world. But in Christ, God has turned his enemies into friends, strangers into family. The self-oriented, sin nature is put to death. God is holy, loving, and relational to his core. Knowing him, raised to new life in him, we become like him - rejoicing in growing new relationships. Strangers aren't really strangers, for in Christ, we are no longer strangers to God. Enemies aren't really enemies, for in Christ, we are no longer God's enemies.
Relationships take time. Paul mentions 11 names in the letter's last section. The Paul-Colossae connection isn't a simple friendship or an acquaintence. It is more like a web - each strand connecting to many people. Why do some relationships grow and others don't? Trace the web. How far back does it go? And is it built on Christ? Back to Mexico - my team was eating cake in someone's home. But it wasn't because we all make friends easy. Years of financial support, personal presence, and prayer had built this relationship. Our Mexican friends didn't know us. But they knew the ones we represented. Every relationship we have should likewise be built on Christ so that we all grow in a holy, outward love together. It starts with what is true about God in Scripture: We can know him. Through Christ, we can dwell in his holy presence. Through his Holy Spirit, we can grow in Christ's likeness. Receive God. The desire of our Father is for us to know love. Having made us family through Jesus' death and resurrection, he will not forsake the rest of the work of making us feel at home.
1) We were once enemies of God. Through Jesus, we are now family. Enemies to family - how do you describe how close our relationship is with God?
2) In this world, unfortunately, even families are subject to the pervasive effects of sin. How does the notion of being a part of God's family give us strength for our difficult, strained relationships?
3) Think of the people the last question brought to mind for you and pray for them.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Don't Forget to Put Your Clothes On (Reflection on May 26 Message)
One of the questions I've puzzled with is why doesn't God just zap us and make us perfect? When we see a spot on the floor, we spray it with some 409, and wipe it clean. It's clean, simple, and easy. God's way of cleansing us seems to have been the total opposite. From the hymn, How Great Thou Art, "And when I think that God his Son not sparing, sent Him to die - I scarce can take it in." Why is the means of God's righteousness transferral so devastating that God's own Son died for us?
Perhaps its one thing to clean the surface of a floor. But to clean a human soul is a completely different story. Like apples and oranges. A spot on the surface of the floor is fairly simple. If there was something awry with the foundation of the floor, or even of the house itself, the matter would be different. This is more like what is wrong with humanity. We may often look good on the outside, but what is inside is absolutely killing us. We are complex spiritual beings - made to know one another deeply, reading immense significance in the smallest glance, becoming terribly offended by words that aren't spoken to us. Part of sin's devastation is that if we see it too clearly, despair can ensue. We know that the problems of our lives and communities are too great for us. We can be tempted to give up and become cynical. And when this happens to someone spiritually, they are like a plant that has died. Pretty soon, what happens inside makes its way through the whole plant. We stop caring. We sit around. We don't build ourselves up physically, intellectually, or emotionally. Parts of our lives that are only a part - our jobs for instance - can become our only focus.
I think the best way to put it is that while we are procrastinators - running from the problem areas of our lives where we meet resistance - God is not. When His creation went astray, He didn't avoid us, finding solace in some other cosmic wonder that hadn't fallen into disarray. He worked to redeem our life in our life. Not away from our world, but right in the middle. In his death, he carries the weight and the guilt of all of our original sin. In our baptisms, we are baptized into the death and burial of Jesus Christ. He rises from the grave. We do too. It seems nothing has really changed. In fact, everything has. Through faith in Christ, we have also risen from the grave with him. At this point, in answer to the question, "why didn't God just zap us and make us instantaneously perfect so we don't have to screw up and learn things the hard way anymore?", God is interested in more than our cleanliness. Eternal life is more than a long life. It is a good life. Righteousness is more than the absence of sin. It is a life where the full, dazzling array of God-likeness is shining out of our lives through our united-to-Christ hearts.
Thank God this is already ours in Christ! This keeps us from the mistake of thinking God expects us to earn his favor. We can live freely, trusting in his love. But there's more. With that assurance, we learn. We develop discipline. We grow. Because salvation isn't only a new status. It is a relationship. This is what we were made for. Out of this relationship with Christ, our other relationships are all healed.
This is so liberating. We want to know God loves us. And we want to know that we can become more like Christ with each passing day. This is why Paul's passage in 3:12-17 is such good news. With our lives united to Christ through the Holy Spirit, we can stock the virtues of Christ in our lives, as in a wardrobe and we can wear them everyday.
Reflection Questions:
1) Verse 12 mentions compassion, humility, meekness, and patience. Which of these is most lacking for you in your daily life?
2) Do you see this quality in Christ's life? Think about how freely it is on display in his life to glorify God. Ask him in prayer for this quality to grow in your life.
Perhaps its one thing to clean the surface of a floor. But to clean a human soul is a completely different story. Like apples and oranges. A spot on the surface of the floor is fairly simple. If there was something awry with the foundation of the floor, or even of the house itself, the matter would be different. This is more like what is wrong with humanity. We may often look good on the outside, but what is inside is absolutely killing us. We are complex spiritual beings - made to know one another deeply, reading immense significance in the smallest glance, becoming terribly offended by words that aren't spoken to us. Part of sin's devastation is that if we see it too clearly, despair can ensue. We know that the problems of our lives and communities are too great for us. We can be tempted to give up and become cynical. And when this happens to someone spiritually, they are like a plant that has died. Pretty soon, what happens inside makes its way through the whole plant. We stop caring. We sit around. We don't build ourselves up physically, intellectually, or emotionally. Parts of our lives that are only a part - our jobs for instance - can become our only focus.
I think the best way to put it is that while we are procrastinators - running from the problem areas of our lives where we meet resistance - God is not. When His creation went astray, He didn't avoid us, finding solace in some other cosmic wonder that hadn't fallen into disarray. He worked to redeem our life in our life. Not away from our world, but right in the middle. In his death, he carries the weight and the guilt of all of our original sin. In our baptisms, we are baptized into the death and burial of Jesus Christ. He rises from the grave. We do too. It seems nothing has really changed. In fact, everything has. Through faith in Christ, we have also risen from the grave with him. At this point, in answer to the question, "why didn't God just zap us and make us instantaneously perfect so we don't have to screw up and learn things the hard way anymore?", God is interested in more than our cleanliness. Eternal life is more than a long life. It is a good life. Righteousness is more than the absence of sin. It is a life where the full, dazzling array of God-likeness is shining out of our lives through our united-to-Christ hearts.
Thank God this is already ours in Christ! This keeps us from the mistake of thinking God expects us to earn his favor. We can live freely, trusting in his love. But there's more. With that assurance, we learn. We develop discipline. We grow. Because salvation isn't only a new status. It is a relationship. This is what we were made for. Out of this relationship with Christ, our other relationships are all healed.
This is so liberating. We want to know God loves us. And we want to know that we can become more like Christ with each passing day. This is why Paul's passage in 3:12-17 is such good news. With our lives united to Christ through the Holy Spirit, we can stock the virtues of Christ in our lives, as in a wardrobe and we can wear them everyday.
Reflection Questions:
1) Verse 12 mentions compassion, humility, meekness, and patience. Which of these is most lacking for you in your daily life?
2) Do you see this quality in Christ's life? Think about how freely it is on display in his life to glorify God. Ask him in prayer for this quality to grow in your life.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Following the Rules (May 12 Message)
When Christian philosopher Dallas Willard died last week, I enjoyed reading remembrances from individuals whose lives had been touched by his ministry. One of them recalled how Willard believed that there were four great questions that human beings must answer: 1) what is reality? 2) What is the good life? 3) Who is a good person? 4) How do you become a good person?
People will give radically different answers beginning with question 1, depending on whether the God of the Bible exists. Tim Keller writes in his book, Every Good Endeavor: "If the God of the Bible exists, and there is a True Reality beneath and behind this one, and this life is not the only life, then every good endeavor, even the simplest ones, pursued in response to God's calling, can matter forever." (Keller, 29)
If this is true, then what has God told us of the good life? The good life is to obey God and to keep covenant with him. Exodus 20:1-17 shows what God commands of his covenant partner, Israel: having no other Gods but He alone, not making a physical image of God for the purposes of worship, not making wrongful use of the Lord's name, remembering the sabbath day, honoring mother and father, no murder, no adultery, no stealing, no bearing false witness, and no coveting anything belonging to your neighbor. This was summarized later by Jesus as "love God...love your neighbor." This is the good life.
Who is the good person? Clearly the one who does the whole law. But what does that look like? Author A.J. Jacobs tried this and wrote a book about it - The Year of Living Biblically. Somehow this experiment seems more like running an especially good marathon or staying faithful to your diet. Is there more to it than personal performance? Some say that good intention is all God is really looking for. He'll grade on a curve if he sees we're really trying and not messing around too much. But this doesn't take God's holiness very seriously. As the Apostle Peter writes in his letter, "As he who calls you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct." We should take it seriously. But how seriously can we take it without becoming legalistic?
I think the quote Jenn included in the bulletin from former MPC pastor, Jack Watson, is very helpful in pointing us through this gridlock. "There are many in our society today who hardly are in danger of seeking to live too rigorous a life, who certainly are not addicted to rules and regulations in abundance. There is much all around us that is not too tight, but too loose. But it is nevertheless a fact that I am sure we have all encountered that many need to be freed from the tyranny of a rigid religion...we are freed from all false ties, including ourselves, so that we may be firmly bound to Christ."
Indeed, there is much around us that is too loose. And there is no refuge in what is too tight. Being bound to Jesus Christ is our only refuge. Neither holding tightly to rules nor insisting that they don't apply is the mark of a good person. With Martin Luther, we say, "Of myself, I have no righteousness. But I have another." We can't be good people. Created very good in Genesis 2 - we were very bad by Genesis 3. Jesus? He is very good. Proclaiming, healing, raising from the dead, storytelling, debating. As the people of the Decapolis put it, "he does all things well." He even dies well. One of the first Christians is the Roman centurion who, upon seeing Christ crucified, calls out "Surely this man was the Son of God."
Keller's point still stands from the beginning. If the God of the Bible is real, the good life and the good person are both shown to us in the law-fulfilling, God-glorifying life of Jesus - a life that was bulls-eye precise with regard to holiness and grace alike, and with regard to the latter, generous, spacious, and abundant. He is both the good life and the good person.
What about the fourth question? If he is both, how do we become like Jesus? Much of human wisdom insists that we can become good and wise people and not think much about God. We all have wandering eyes and wandering minds that will find goodness all over the place and not connect it with God. But for each of us, for all that we have, the time will come, maybe today and maybe next week, maybe decades from now, the question will come - "do you love this more than me?" And whether it is our spouse, our son, our daughter, or our own concept of goodness, of wisdom, of what God owes us or of what we owe God, we will have to answer, even if we choose not to give any answer at all, that will be our answer. The opportunity, from my experience, seems to be this: if we merely choose to allow him, Jesus will make us like himself. It will take a long time. It won't be easy. It will often feel like we are really walking to the cross with him. Jesus has done the rest of it once and for all, if we will only take stock of our heart and allow the master to work.
1) I took awhile to write this, but I invite you to take just a few minutes: how would you answer Willard's four great questions?
People will give radically different answers beginning with question 1, depending on whether the God of the Bible exists. Tim Keller writes in his book, Every Good Endeavor: "If the God of the Bible exists, and there is a True Reality beneath and behind this one, and this life is not the only life, then every good endeavor, even the simplest ones, pursued in response to God's calling, can matter forever." (Keller, 29)
If this is true, then what has God told us of the good life? The good life is to obey God and to keep covenant with him. Exodus 20:1-17 shows what God commands of his covenant partner, Israel: having no other Gods but He alone, not making a physical image of God for the purposes of worship, not making wrongful use of the Lord's name, remembering the sabbath day, honoring mother and father, no murder, no adultery, no stealing, no bearing false witness, and no coveting anything belonging to your neighbor. This was summarized later by Jesus as "love God...love your neighbor." This is the good life.
Who is the good person? Clearly the one who does the whole law. But what does that look like? Author A.J. Jacobs tried this and wrote a book about it - The Year of Living Biblically. Somehow this experiment seems more like running an especially good marathon or staying faithful to your diet. Is there more to it than personal performance? Some say that good intention is all God is really looking for. He'll grade on a curve if he sees we're really trying and not messing around too much. But this doesn't take God's holiness very seriously. As the Apostle Peter writes in his letter, "As he who calls you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct." We should take it seriously. But how seriously can we take it without becoming legalistic?
I think the quote Jenn included in the bulletin from former MPC pastor, Jack Watson, is very helpful in pointing us through this gridlock. "There are many in our society today who hardly are in danger of seeking to live too rigorous a life, who certainly are not addicted to rules and regulations in abundance. There is much all around us that is not too tight, but too loose. But it is nevertheless a fact that I am sure we have all encountered that many need to be freed from the tyranny of a rigid religion...we are freed from all false ties, including ourselves, so that we may be firmly bound to Christ."
Indeed, there is much around us that is too loose. And there is no refuge in what is too tight. Being bound to Jesus Christ is our only refuge. Neither holding tightly to rules nor insisting that they don't apply is the mark of a good person. With Martin Luther, we say, "Of myself, I have no righteousness. But I have another." We can't be good people. Created very good in Genesis 2 - we were very bad by Genesis 3. Jesus? He is very good. Proclaiming, healing, raising from the dead, storytelling, debating. As the people of the Decapolis put it, "he does all things well." He even dies well. One of the first Christians is the Roman centurion who, upon seeing Christ crucified, calls out "Surely this man was the Son of God."
Keller's point still stands from the beginning. If the God of the Bible is real, the good life and the good person are both shown to us in the law-fulfilling, God-glorifying life of Jesus - a life that was bulls-eye precise with regard to holiness and grace alike, and with regard to the latter, generous, spacious, and abundant. He is both the good life and the good person.
What about the fourth question? If he is both, how do we become like Jesus? Much of human wisdom insists that we can become good and wise people and not think much about God. We all have wandering eyes and wandering minds that will find goodness all over the place and not connect it with God. But for each of us, for all that we have, the time will come, maybe today and maybe next week, maybe decades from now, the question will come - "do you love this more than me?" And whether it is our spouse, our son, our daughter, or our own concept of goodness, of wisdom, of what God owes us or of what we owe God, we will have to answer, even if we choose not to give any answer at all, that will be our answer. The opportunity, from my experience, seems to be this: if we merely choose to allow him, Jesus will make us like himself. It will take a long time. It won't be easy. It will often feel like we are really walking to the cross with him. Jesus has done the rest of it once and for all, if we will only take stock of our heart and allow the master to work.
1) I took awhile to write this, but I invite you to take just a few minutes: how would you answer Willard's four great questions?
Thursday, May 9, 2013
What Are You Full Of? (Reflection on May 5 Message)
I've been reading a book called Miraculous Movements. It is about Muslims in Africa who have confessed Jesus to be Lord. New Christians spend hours together in prayer. Hours. How do they do this? Don't they get distracted and bored? Everytime I picture them gathering in someone's home for hours on end in prayer, I struggle to wrap my head around it.
Jesus' last words to his disciples before he ascended to heaven were these: "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matt. 28:18-20) Reading about Muslims becoming Christ-followers teaches me this: they are doing this, and they are doing it by praying 600% more than I do.
Our hearts are stubborn. This is why Paul preached to the heart in his letter, going after the astrologies and deceitful philosophies that had the Colossians by the throat. This is why Kevin preached to our hearts, going after the materialistic hearts we all have.
Good heart-preaching reveals our idols. The light shines on us. We are guilty. We are too proud, selfish, arrogant, and busy. But we are this way because we have deeper needs. We are ashamed, fearful, confused, and inadequate. Heart-preaching doesn't allow us to merely "be ourselves." It clears the way and allows us to be honest with God. Maybe for the first time in our lives, we can be completely honest with him about how much we need him.
If we are still interested in keeping control of our own lives, honesty won't be a priority. But if we start to get real with God, Colossians 2:9-15 has the strength to get us over that hill. Because we shouldn't be afraid of becoming nothing. In our sin and transgressions, we already are. But Christ nailed it to the cross. (2:14). When the world mocked him for becoming nothing and dying for us, he rose from the grave, showing these impressive rulers and authorities to be ridiculous. In emptying ourselves, we become full through Christ.
Dallas Willard died yesterday. He was a great Christian philosopher, often quoted by Kevin in the pulpit. I absolutely devoured his massive tome, The Divine Conspiracy over the summer. In the last day, I have enjoyed reading what many wise Christians loved about Dallas. Here is one that I've been thinking a lot about:
"[Willard's] books all call out, in one way or another: Come on over. It's going to be okay to die first. You have to do it, and you can do it. Not even Jesus got a resurrection without a death, and he'll be at your side when you surrender your old life. Trust me on this. If you die with Jesus Christ, God will walk you out of your tomb into a life of incomparable joy and purpose inside his boundless and competent love."
Faith is all about surrender. It is not easy. It is not something we can do on our own. We need God. We need each other. We need heart preaching. Above all, we need the Gospel. Paul is telling us, "you can't just decide to be better. Christ is your good, your better, and your best. He is the death of the old you and the new birth of the real, eternal you. It is no longer you who live. Christ lives in you."
1) When was the last time you surrendered everything in your life to Christ? What did that mean for you at the time (was it really hard?) What has it meant for you since?
2) Who is the person in your life most in need of this kind of surrender? Ask God to give you the resolve to pray for this person until he or she is able to give control to God.
Jesus' last words to his disciples before he ascended to heaven were these: "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matt. 28:18-20) Reading about Muslims becoming Christ-followers teaches me this: they are doing this, and they are doing it by praying 600% more than I do.
Our hearts are stubborn. This is why Paul preached to the heart in his letter, going after the astrologies and deceitful philosophies that had the Colossians by the throat. This is why Kevin preached to our hearts, going after the materialistic hearts we all have.
Good heart-preaching reveals our idols. The light shines on us. We are guilty. We are too proud, selfish, arrogant, and busy. But we are this way because we have deeper needs. We are ashamed, fearful, confused, and inadequate. Heart-preaching doesn't allow us to merely "be ourselves." It clears the way and allows us to be honest with God. Maybe for the first time in our lives, we can be completely honest with him about how much we need him.
If we are still interested in keeping control of our own lives, honesty won't be a priority. But if we start to get real with God, Colossians 2:9-15 has the strength to get us over that hill. Because we shouldn't be afraid of becoming nothing. In our sin and transgressions, we already are. But Christ nailed it to the cross. (2:14). When the world mocked him for becoming nothing and dying for us, he rose from the grave, showing these impressive rulers and authorities to be ridiculous. In emptying ourselves, we become full through Christ.
Dallas Willard died yesterday. He was a great Christian philosopher, often quoted by Kevin in the pulpit. I absolutely devoured his massive tome, The Divine Conspiracy over the summer. In the last day, I have enjoyed reading what many wise Christians loved about Dallas. Here is one that I've been thinking a lot about:
"[Willard's] books all call out, in one way or another: Come on over. It's going to be okay to die first. You have to do it, and you can do it. Not even Jesus got a resurrection without a death, and he'll be at your side when you surrender your old life. Trust me on this. If you die with Jesus Christ, God will walk you out of your tomb into a life of incomparable joy and purpose inside his boundless and competent love."
Faith is all about surrender. It is not easy. It is not something we can do on our own. We need God. We need each other. We need heart preaching. Above all, we need the Gospel. Paul is telling us, "you can't just decide to be better. Christ is your good, your better, and your best. He is the death of the old you and the new birth of the real, eternal you. It is no longer you who live. Christ lives in you."
1) When was the last time you surrendered everything in your life to Christ? What did that mean for you at the time (was it really hard?) What has it meant for you since?
2) Who is the person in your life most in need of this kind of surrender? Ask God to give you the resolve to pray for this person until he or she is able to give control to God.
Monday, April 15, 2013
"For the Saints" (Reflection on April 7 Message)
Hezekiah was one of the bright lights among the dim bulbs of Israel and Judah's kings. An account of him begins in 2 Chronicles 29. Right from the get-go, he whips everybody involved in temple worship into shape: "Listen to me, Levites! Sanctify yourselves, and sanctify the house of the Lord, the God of your ancestors, and carry out the filth from the holy place."
We all have places that we keep holy and undefiled. It may be your hour at church. Or time with your spouse at the end of the day. Maybe it is a long commute, or when you have a mid-afternoon cup of coffee. It is quiet, peaceful, and empty. At the same time, it is a time to be filled again with reflection, prayer, sorrow, or joy. When we neglect this holy place, our lives are depleted of any sense of God, of gratitude and dependence, and we begin to shoulder more and more responsibility for everything and everyone in our lives.
As we began our study of Paul's letter to the Colossians, Jessica reminded us of something powerful. We may struggle to guard our holy places and quiet times. But in Christ, we are a holy place constantly under his care. God doesn't only come to us in peaceful mini-sabbaths. He lives in us now. He isn't only with you when you watch a sunset or when you pray. He has made you a holy place. You are the temple. All of the Old Testament proclaims this good news of Jesus Christ. It is in the tabernacle of Exodus. It is in the temple of 2 Chronicles. God's presence with us, and in us, is fulfilled in Jesus Christ once and for all. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews gasps at this: "For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. And the Holy Spirit also testifies to us, for after saying, "This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds," he also adds, "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more." (Hebrews 10:14-17)
For the Saints. As we begin this series that will lead us through June, how should we respond to this? First, that which is for the saints is more than a piece of mail from the Apostle Paul. It is the gift of sanctification - of constant union with our Lord Jesus that will extend beyond the grave. Second, we can ask God that our sanctification will bear fruit. As Peter puts it, we are sanctified by the Spirit "to be obedient to Jesus Christ." (1 Pet. 1:2) Who can you forgive today? Who can you have compassion on? Whose day do you have the best chance of improving? What burdens can you lay down right now? May we realize that sanctified people have an abundantly loving God - there isn't a whole lot we need to cling to or protect.
Reflection Questions:
1) In his book, The Shack, William Paul Young writes that "freedom is an incremental process." Name a person, discipline, memory, or something in your life that makes you a little more free each day to be Christ's servant.
2) When is your quiet time when you can be with God one on one? What are the greatest threats to this time and how can you take greater steps to protect it?
We all have places that we keep holy and undefiled. It may be your hour at church. Or time with your spouse at the end of the day. Maybe it is a long commute, or when you have a mid-afternoon cup of coffee. It is quiet, peaceful, and empty. At the same time, it is a time to be filled again with reflection, prayer, sorrow, or joy. When we neglect this holy place, our lives are depleted of any sense of God, of gratitude and dependence, and we begin to shoulder more and more responsibility for everything and everyone in our lives.
As we began our study of Paul's letter to the Colossians, Jessica reminded us of something powerful. We may struggle to guard our holy places and quiet times. But in Christ, we are a holy place constantly under his care. God doesn't only come to us in peaceful mini-sabbaths. He lives in us now. He isn't only with you when you watch a sunset or when you pray. He has made you a holy place. You are the temple. All of the Old Testament proclaims this good news of Jesus Christ. It is in the tabernacle of Exodus. It is in the temple of 2 Chronicles. God's presence with us, and in us, is fulfilled in Jesus Christ once and for all. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews gasps at this: "For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. And the Holy Spirit also testifies to us, for after saying, "This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds," he also adds, "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more." (Hebrews 10:14-17)
For the Saints. As we begin this series that will lead us through June, how should we respond to this? First, that which is for the saints is more than a piece of mail from the Apostle Paul. It is the gift of sanctification - of constant union with our Lord Jesus that will extend beyond the grave. Second, we can ask God that our sanctification will bear fruit. As Peter puts it, we are sanctified by the Spirit "to be obedient to Jesus Christ." (1 Pet. 1:2) Who can you forgive today? Who can you have compassion on? Whose day do you have the best chance of improving? What burdens can you lay down right now? May we realize that sanctified people have an abundantly loving God - there isn't a whole lot we need to cling to or protect.
Reflection Questions:
1) In his book, The Shack, William Paul Young writes that "freedom is an incremental process." Name a person, discipline, memory, or something in your life that makes you a little more free each day to be Christ's servant.
2) When is your quiet time when you can be with God one on one? What are the greatest threats to this time and how can you take greater steps to protect it?
Thursday, April 11, 2013
From the Tomb (Reflections on Easter Message)
One image that will stay with me from Sunday's Easter message is that of Kevin in the Mandarin Cemetery. I was there for the first time on Sunday morning for the sunrise Easter service, so I can picture it in my mind. I can see him walking through, looking at the graveposts, reading poignant memories, and also smiling at the earthy humor in the face of death.
Laughter is the most wonderful thing in the world. I wish it permeated my life constantly. But I fear the ways that humor can demean us. I can think of two. It can be used to 1) make myself seem better than others. This is the humor we call "ridiculing", that allows me to put others down. It can also be used to 2) distract myself from real life. This is the kind of humor that my parents had to warn me about growing up, the type of humor that can get out of hand, that gets too silly - the product of too much TV or sugar. When we become too wary of these distortions of humor though, we can sometimes go too far in the other direction. We can become too serious, and feel guilty about deep enjoyment and the rich laughter that comes with it.
I think of a scene in Wm. Paul Young's novel, The Shack. The book is a fictional account of a man named Mack who has suffered the tragic loss of his daughter, and who has a transforming encounter with the triune God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Mack has just spent an evening with Jesus looking at the stars on the dock and the two begin to laugh. "It was infectious, and Mack found himself swept along, from somewhere deep inside. He had not laughed from down there in a long time. Jesus reached over and hugged him, shaking from his own spasms of mirth, and Mack felt more clean and alive and well than he had since...well, he couldn't remember when.
"Eventually, they both calmed again and the night's quiet asserted itself once more. It seemed that even the frogs had called it quits. Mack lay there realizing that he was now feeling guilty about enjoying himself, about laughing...
"Jesus?" he whispered as his voice choked. "I feel so lost."
"A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn't let go. "I know, Mack. But it's not true. I am with you and I'm not lost. I'm sorry it feels that way, but hear me clearly. You are not lost." (Young, 114)
Mack is actually with Jesus and he feels lost. We see him, know him, and believe that he is alive in us through the Holy Spirit only by faith. We certainly will also feel lost sometimes. But this passage reminds me of the Easter truth that Kevin preached. Because of what Christ has done for us and in us, our lives aren't tragic anymore. They are comedy - a divine comedy. There is a happy ending. One day, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Revelation 21:4)
What does Easter mean? It means Jesus has turned our tragedy into comedy. I hope we don't only think this, or know this. I hope we can feel this. I pray that the gospel will delight us so much that we will laugh, from way deep inside, with spasms of mirth, infectious laughter that is clean and alive.
Reflection Questions:
1) I remember turning in my senior project at the end of college and laughing with delight. I could hardly believe I'd finally finished it! When have you laughed with total delight?
2) During Holy Week and Easter, when did you experience the most wonder and delight in what Christ has done for us?
Laughter is the most wonderful thing in the world. I wish it permeated my life constantly. But I fear the ways that humor can demean us. I can think of two. It can be used to 1) make myself seem better than others. This is the humor we call "ridiculing", that allows me to put others down. It can also be used to 2) distract myself from real life. This is the kind of humor that my parents had to warn me about growing up, the type of humor that can get out of hand, that gets too silly - the product of too much TV or sugar. When we become too wary of these distortions of humor though, we can sometimes go too far in the other direction. We can become too serious, and feel guilty about deep enjoyment and the rich laughter that comes with it.
I think of a scene in Wm. Paul Young's novel, The Shack. The book is a fictional account of a man named Mack who has suffered the tragic loss of his daughter, and who has a transforming encounter with the triune God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Mack has just spent an evening with Jesus looking at the stars on the dock and the two begin to laugh. "It was infectious, and Mack found himself swept along, from somewhere deep inside. He had not laughed from down there in a long time. Jesus reached over and hugged him, shaking from his own spasms of mirth, and Mack felt more clean and alive and well than he had since...well, he couldn't remember when.
"Eventually, they both calmed again and the night's quiet asserted itself once more. It seemed that even the frogs had called it quits. Mack lay there realizing that he was now feeling guilty about enjoying himself, about laughing...
"Jesus?" he whispered as his voice choked. "I feel so lost."
"A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn't let go. "I know, Mack. But it's not true. I am with you and I'm not lost. I'm sorry it feels that way, but hear me clearly. You are not lost." (Young, 114)
Mack is actually with Jesus and he feels lost. We see him, know him, and believe that he is alive in us through the Holy Spirit only by faith. We certainly will also feel lost sometimes. But this passage reminds me of the Easter truth that Kevin preached. Because of what Christ has done for us and in us, our lives aren't tragic anymore. They are comedy - a divine comedy. There is a happy ending. One day, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Revelation 21:4)
What does Easter mean? It means Jesus has turned our tragedy into comedy. I hope we don't only think this, or know this. I hope we can feel this. I pray that the gospel will delight us so much that we will laugh, from way deep inside, with spasms of mirth, infectious laughter that is clean and alive.
Reflection Questions:
1) I remember turning in my senior project at the end of college and laughing with delight. I could hardly believe I'd finally finished it! When have you laughed with total delight?
2) During Holy Week and Easter, when did you experience the most wonder and delight in what Christ has done for us?
Monday, March 18, 2013
Reflection on "God's Voice in Difficult People" (March 17 message)
As I listen to a sermon, my thoughts will sometimes lead me to think about myself. A memory will be stirred, and I will spend some time in the place and time that has come to center stage again. Other times, I'll be led deeper into one of the Scriptures. "Wow", I'll think, "that piece of text from the Bible is just like something I experienced the other day!" OK, I'll admit it - I suppose my attention drifts to something else pretty often! But whether I'm led by the Lord or not, whether I am directed or whether I am drifting, something begins to happen when I hear a sermon. It is good to pay attention to what is happening while we listen to sermons.
This is particularly the case for a sermon about how God speaks to us through difficult people. Not only those who make our lives difficult at their own fault, but those who criticize us and are correct in doing so! Ouch! As Kevin spoke about these people, I began to think of memories that I instinctively "run" from. That is, my mind gets as far away from there as possible!
But the sermon was not intended to leave me there with those voices and reliving the pain. It was intended to help me hear God's word of grace in them so I could grow. Kevin's example of Abraham Lincoln and his adversary-turned-advisor Edwin Stanton was a great encouragement to me. Throughout Stanton's life, as a leader and as Lincoln's secretary of war, he was a critic of Lincoln. But Lincoln respected him. He didn't "run" from him. He thought he could benefit from such criticism. As such, we remember Lincoln, a man who among many other strengths, had the gift of being able to receive criticism well.
How was this gracious to me? It was gracious because the worst thing that can happen is that I would run from pain, difficult questions, the truth, and criticism in search of God. This is because I won't find God there. God has come to me in Jesus Christ through his cross. It is there that I meet God. And the cross is the place where my sin is paid for, the place where God's son died for me, the place where my idea that I can save myself, be admirable, noble, and great all by myself is exposed as a big, fat lie. Dorothy Sayers wrote, "God was executed by people painfully like us, in a society very similar to our own - in the over-ripeness of the most splendid and sophisticated Empire the world has ever seen." The cross is so much worse than criticism. Even if we begin to think about what Jesus went through on the cross, we can't help but admit how repugnant and unpleasant it would be. If I can't even face criticism - good, godly, soul-refining criticism, as from a loving parent - how on earth can I face the cross? And here's the grace. God already faced it. Instead of the cross that would finally punish sin and death in me, I freely receive the reputation and character of Jesus given to me. Instead of the curse, we receive glory. Instead of condemnation, we are lifted up into eternal favor.
What a stunning honor we have received from God! This is what gives Christians the courage to face their toughest criticism with humility, grace, and humor. It is because they have been given Christ's eternal life in spite of even worse things only they know about themselves!
Reflection Questions:
1) Did any painful memories of criticism surface during the sermon?
2) What gives these memories their painful edge - the person who said it? the way it was said? or perhaps you desperately hoped it wasn't true?
3) When we become Christians, we are "born again", made new in Christ. This means we receive Christ's unblemished character, totally undeserved on our part. How might this give you strength to face criticism with courage?
This is particularly the case for a sermon about how God speaks to us through difficult people. Not only those who make our lives difficult at their own fault, but those who criticize us and are correct in doing so! Ouch! As Kevin spoke about these people, I began to think of memories that I instinctively "run" from. That is, my mind gets as far away from there as possible!
But the sermon was not intended to leave me there with those voices and reliving the pain. It was intended to help me hear God's word of grace in them so I could grow. Kevin's example of Abraham Lincoln and his adversary-turned-advisor Edwin Stanton was a great encouragement to me. Throughout Stanton's life, as a leader and as Lincoln's secretary of war, he was a critic of Lincoln. But Lincoln respected him. He didn't "run" from him. He thought he could benefit from such criticism. As such, we remember Lincoln, a man who among many other strengths, had the gift of being able to receive criticism well.
How was this gracious to me? It was gracious because the worst thing that can happen is that I would run from pain, difficult questions, the truth, and criticism in search of God. This is because I won't find God there. God has come to me in Jesus Christ through his cross. It is there that I meet God. And the cross is the place where my sin is paid for, the place where God's son died for me, the place where my idea that I can save myself, be admirable, noble, and great all by myself is exposed as a big, fat lie. Dorothy Sayers wrote, "God was executed by people painfully like us, in a society very similar to our own - in the over-ripeness of the most splendid and sophisticated Empire the world has ever seen." The cross is so much worse than criticism. Even if we begin to think about what Jesus went through on the cross, we can't help but admit how repugnant and unpleasant it would be. If I can't even face criticism - good, godly, soul-refining criticism, as from a loving parent - how on earth can I face the cross? And here's the grace. God already faced it. Instead of the cross that would finally punish sin and death in me, I freely receive the reputation and character of Jesus given to me. Instead of the curse, we receive glory. Instead of condemnation, we are lifted up into eternal favor.
What a stunning honor we have received from God! This is what gives Christians the courage to face their toughest criticism with humility, grace, and humor. It is because they have been given Christ's eternal life in spite of even worse things only they know about themselves!
Reflection Questions:
1) Did any painful memories of criticism surface during the sermon?
2) What gives these memories their painful edge - the person who said it? the way it was said? or perhaps you desperately hoped it wasn't true?
3) When we become Christians, we are "born again", made new in Christ. This means we receive Christ's unblemished character, totally undeserved on our part. How might this give you strength to face criticism with courage?
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Reflection on "A Dishonest Manager" (March 10 Message)
As Kevin has preached these past several weeks, the texts don't seem to get any easier. We looked at how God comes to us in pain last week - "Don't Waste Your Suffering". And two days ago, we read Jesus' parable of the dishonest manager, in which Jesus tells a story of a master who fires his dishonest manager, but then professes admiration of him after the manager cuts several deals which cheat the master out of up to half of what people actually owe him. He praises the guy. He praises him for being shrewd, but what about his dishonesty? Did Jesus really tell that story?...
I find it interesting to look back at the series title - "How God Comes to Us". Truth, Suffering, Shrewdness. It is interesting because I bet if I asked the average person how God comes to them, they would tell me about the beach, their kids, the mountains, acts of random kindness - you know, things everybody likes. I believe God comes to me in those things too. But it challenges me to think how God comes to me in these other ways.
I feel delight in a kind person, and I think "Surely if I feel this way, then how does God feel?" I magnify my own emotions and feelings and think, "That must be what God is like." I watch a sunrise out my window early in the morning or I look at a flower with perfect symmetry and dazzling purple splashed across it and I think, "God made that!" I think these wonderful things make me feel close to God. But if someone asked God, "when did you feel close to Chris?", I somehow doubt that my nice thoughts would be able to compete with meaningful action. "I felt close to Chris when he faced the truth...and then when he called out to me and relied on me entirely when he saw how people suffer around the world and in his town...and when he took steps to pursue excellence in what he does so that people would think of me when they see him." I think God would feel close to me in these ways.
Sometimes, my wife and I ask each other, "When did you feel close to God" or "What was the best part of your day?" before we go to sleep. Often, I get to tell her that something she did or said made me feel close to God. If it really was some other moment, sometimes I'll cheat and use two so she knows I was thankful for her...just being honest! But I sometimes feel as though I honestly was closest to God when something really difficult happened that made me turn to him. That always surprises me a little. Shouldn't I feel closest to God in the good times?
But God didn't come into the world to congratulate us on how well we were doing. He came to save us from eternal peril and to make a way to new life. That way is a person. Through Jesus Christ, we know that God loves us because he gave his Son to give his life for us. To know him is pure joy, but it is also humbling because he becomes our Lord, and this means we aren't Lord. We may be most in key with the Lord when we feel closest to him in the hardest parts of our day.
Reflection Questions:
1) What was the highlight of your day?
2) Now, when did you feel closest to God today? And when do you think God felt closest to you?
I find it interesting to look back at the series title - "How God Comes to Us". Truth, Suffering, Shrewdness. It is interesting because I bet if I asked the average person how God comes to them, they would tell me about the beach, their kids, the mountains, acts of random kindness - you know, things everybody likes. I believe God comes to me in those things too. But it challenges me to think how God comes to me in these other ways.
I feel delight in a kind person, and I think "Surely if I feel this way, then how does God feel?" I magnify my own emotions and feelings and think, "That must be what God is like." I watch a sunrise out my window early in the morning or I look at a flower with perfect symmetry and dazzling purple splashed across it and I think, "God made that!" I think these wonderful things make me feel close to God. But if someone asked God, "when did you feel close to Chris?", I somehow doubt that my nice thoughts would be able to compete with meaningful action. "I felt close to Chris when he faced the truth...and then when he called out to me and relied on me entirely when he saw how people suffer around the world and in his town...and when he took steps to pursue excellence in what he does so that people would think of me when they see him." I think God would feel close to me in these ways.
Sometimes, my wife and I ask each other, "When did you feel close to God" or "What was the best part of your day?" before we go to sleep. Often, I get to tell her that something she did or said made me feel close to God. If it really was some other moment, sometimes I'll cheat and use two so she knows I was thankful for her...just being honest! But I sometimes feel as though I honestly was closest to God when something really difficult happened that made me turn to him. That always surprises me a little. Shouldn't I feel closest to God in the good times?
But God didn't come into the world to congratulate us on how well we were doing. He came to save us from eternal peril and to make a way to new life. That way is a person. Through Jesus Christ, we know that God loves us because he gave his Son to give his life for us. To know him is pure joy, but it is also humbling because he becomes our Lord, and this means we aren't Lord. We may be most in key with the Lord when we feel closest to him in the hardest parts of our day.
Reflection Questions:
1) What was the highlight of your day?
2) Now, when did you feel closest to God today? And when do you think God felt closest to you?
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Reflection on "Can You Handle the Truth?" (February 24 message)
"You can't handle the truth!" The colonel in A Few Good Men yells this line as though the truth could absolutely squash this pesky prosecuting attorney. But the truth he unveils - about his compliance in the wrongful death of two young men - squashes him instead. I wonder what he was thinking. Did he confuse his own high ranking with that of the judge? Did he think that higher rank and more experience make us more qualified to handle condemning truth? Either way, for all he claimed to know about truth, it proved to be way more than even he could handle. Poor Jack.
Poor us too. The bad news for him is hardly any better for us. Truth is one of those imposing words. It will show me what I'm made of, but not in a way that will make me better. R.R. Reno is a rock-climber and a theology professor. In an essay about rock climbing, he shares about climbing down a steep rock face. The great terror facing him and his friend is described as the bergschrund, a yawning crevasse at the base of a mountain. "The glacier below moaned like a despairing prisoner kept in the deepest dungeon of a distant fortress. A quite real chunk of ice broke free a couple hundred feet to our right and dropped with a roar into the gaping moat below...as I leaned out and went over the edge I could see into the dark depths of the bergschrund. It was filled with the debris of ice blocks that had avalanched from above." (75) Truth seems to me like bergschrund. Merciless. You fall into its arms and it will not catch you. In fact, the faster you fall into it, the more messed up you'll be. Shattered on the rocks of the truth.
Who can handle truth? Who is good enough to deal it out to the rest of us? In an op-ed piece in the New York Times, a list was made of prominent political men for whom the pursuit of truth and right and wrong in politics did not protect them from failures of truth within their own marriages. It was a long list. Various reports surrounding abuse scandals in general and specifically with the Scottish cardinal's resignation this week remind us that people are good at keeping one another's secrets. It is no wonder that Pilate in bewilderment asked Jesus, "what is truth?" What else is it, indeed, than a yawning pit we try our best to avoid?
Of course, this is no secret to the Scriptures. "If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?" (Psalm 130:3) But there is a humility here that is not terrified of being broken by the truth. What if we didn't hate the truth and try our best to avoid it, but delighted to make it known? Jesus says, "Everyone on the side of truth listens to me." I'll be the first to admit that I'm scared to face the truth. OK, actually that's a lie. Maybe I'd be the third or fourth person to admit that. I'd much prefer a few people to admit that before I step forward to admit it. But if Christians pretend they are anything other than wretched sinners saved only by the mercy and grace of God, the true love of God is not being shown. What is being communicated is still a works-based, "try and pull it together" confidence in ourselves, and not in God. Instead, we can pray, "Tell me the truth, God. Tell me the truth about my sin, how deep and wide it is. Don't hide any of it from me. But show me how enormous the gospel is, how it swallows up evil and death and makes all things new. Tell me the truth about both."
Frankly, it isn't an easy prayer to pray, is it? Truth hurts. But the good news is that Christ knows it hurts. He was in the garden the night before he died, praying that there might be some other way humanity could be redeemed other than the cross. And he gladly went and finished it all, claiming God's victory over all sin and evil. He handled the truth that we couldn't. He fell into the yawning crevasse - the bergschrund - that would have broken us instead. And if we love Jesus for doing this for us, he will lead us beyond whatever hard truths we have to face in this world - whether it is about our health, relationships, manners, habits, or anything else. They don't have to cripple us anymore. The truth has been handled. The judge himself has taken our sentence for us. Nothing remains but to pledge our love and devotion to Christ - and in doing so we leap high over every dark bergschrund that remains beneath us.
1) When was a time that the truth made you so happy you could rejoice? When was a time when you wished the truth wasn't really true?
2) Blaise Pascal once said, "unless we love the truth, we cannot know it." How do you think loving the truth helps us to actually know it?
3) What is something 'true' you could tell somebody that would absolutely make their day?
Poor us too. The bad news for him is hardly any better for us. Truth is one of those imposing words. It will show me what I'm made of, but not in a way that will make me better. R.R. Reno is a rock-climber and a theology professor. In an essay about rock climbing, he shares about climbing down a steep rock face. The great terror facing him and his friend is described as the bergschrund, a yawning crevasse at the base of a mountain. "The glacier below moaned like a despairing prisoner kept in the deepest dungeon of a distant fortress. A quite real chunk of ice broke free a couple hundred feet to our right and dropped with a roar into the gaping moat below...as I leaned out and went over the edge I could see into the dark depths of the bergschrund. It was filled with the debris of ice blocks that had avalanched from above." (75) Truth seems to me like bergschrund. Merciless. You fall into its arms and it will not catch you. In fact, the faster you fall into it, the more messed up you'll be. Shattered on the rocks of the truth.
Who can handle truth? Who is good enough to deal it out to the rest of us? In an op-ed piece in the New York Times, a list was made of prominent political men for whom the pursuit of truth and right and wrong in politics did not protect them from failures of truth within their own marriages. It was a long list. Various reports surrounding abuse scandals in general and specifically with the Scottish cardinal's resignation this week remind us that people are good at keeping one another's secrets. It is no wonder that Pilate in bewilderment asked Jesus, "what is truth?" What else is it, indeed, than a yawning pit we try our best to avoid?
Of course, this is no secret to the Scriptures. "If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?" (Psalm 130:3) But there is a humility here that is not terrified of being broken by the truth. What if we didn't hate the truth and try our best to avoid it, but delighted to make it known? Jesus says, "Everyone on the side of truth listens to me." I'll be the first to admit that I'm scared to face the truth. OK, actually that's a lie. Maybe I'd be the third or fourth person to admit that. I'd much prefer a few people to admit that before I step forward to admit it. But if Christians pretend they are anything other than wretched sinners saved only by the mercy and grace of God, the true love of God is not being shown. What is being communicated is still a works-based, "try and pull it together" confidence in ourselves, and not in God. Instead, we can pray, "Tell me the truth, God. Tell me the truth about my sin, how deep and wide it is. Don't hide any of it from me. But show me how enormous the gospel is, how it swallows up evil and death and makes all things new. Tell me the truth about both."
Frankly, it isn't an easy prayer to pray, is it? Truth hurts. But the good news is that Christ knows it hurts. He was in the garden the night before he died, praying that there might be some other way humanity could be redeemed other than the cross. And he gladly went and finished it all, claiming God's victory over all sin and evil. He handled the truth that we couldn't. He fell into the yawning crevasse - the bergschrund - that would have broken us instead. And if we love Jesus for doing this for us, he will lead us beyond whatever hard truths we have to face in this world - whether it is about our health, relationships, manners, habits, or anything else. They don't have to cripple us anymore. The truth has been handled. The judge himself has taken our sentence for us. Nothing remains but to pledge our love and devotion to Christ - and in doing so we leap high over every dark bergschrund that remains beneath us.
1) When was a time that the truth made you so happy you could rejoice? When was a time when you wished the truth wasn't really true?
2) Blaise Pascal once said, "unless we love the truth, we cannot know it." How do you think loving the truth helps us to actually know it?
3) What is something 'true' you could tell somebody that would absolutely make their day?
Thursday, February 21, 2013
"How God Comes to Us" (Reflection on 2/17 Message)
Joy in the midst of sorrow. Hope in the midst of despair. Remembering the mountain-top in the midst of the valley. To be mindful and expectant of supernatural realities in the midst of everyday life. A woman saying, "I want to give all the glory to God" as she emerges from the cruiseline disaster. Isn't this "glass half full" perspective what we're looking for in the Christian life?
After Peter, John, and James experienced the glory of Jesus Christ, and they were returning down the mountain, Jesus told them not to tell about this until after he was raised from the dead. (Matthew 17:9). In Luke, the disciples simply don't tell anyone. In Matthew and also in Mark, it's at Jesus' request.
In Mark, as in the other gospels, the Father himself speaks and tells the disciples to listen to Jesus. This was a peak moment for me during Kevin's sermon - to ponder a holy, almighty God's pleasure in this man Jesus, his Son - and to imagine a thing so wonderful as that. And the Father says, "Listen to him!" The NIV translates this phrase in Matthew and Mark with an exclamation point! In the whole Bible, what do you think are the urgent, exclamation point moments for God? This is one of them: "listen to him!"
God says listen to Jesus, but the first thing Jesus says is, "Don't tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." It is the first thing he says, and already, I bet the disciples didn't want to listen to this. I would want to tell everybody about it, the way Peter eventually does in 2 Peter 1:12! I can imagine having an amazing experience and wanting to give the glory to God, and I don't think I'd understand if Jesus then said, "The time isn't right. Don't tell anybody yet. People will get the wrong idea."
Joy in the midst of sorrow. We want our Christian life to express this. And Jesus knows this will only be a reality for us through his cross. He says don't talk about this until I'm raised from the dead. He's telling us not to leave the ingredient of suffering and death out of the recipe of our rejoicing. They go together. The cross is where Jesus makes us like himself. Without it, the transfiguration would have been a nice experience but nothing more. Through the cross, Jesus makes us like himself - dead to sin, raised to new life. And God the Father speaks over us, "This is my beloved child!" Over us. Without the cross, we are just observers of an amazing mountain-top scene. Through the cross, we become participants in it. And we don't leave it behind. It goes with us everywhere.
People gave glory to God even though they were in a terrible situation on a cruise ship. Unless they were psychic, I don't think they knew this was going to happen. And we don't know what's going to happen to us today. Kevin said that the news world loves bad news. I agree. But the world is also aching and longing to know that people can go through hellish experiences and that even though the body suffers, the soul can still thrive. As Christians, we know what this is like because we know about the cross.
1) Is there anyone you admire for the way they've endured something difficult?
2) What is a difficult struggle you've been through? How did you get through it?
3) How is Jesus' cross a comfort to you in your hardships?
After Peter, John, and James experienced the glory of Jesus Christ, and they were returning down the mountain, Jesus told them not to tell about this until after he was raised from the dead. (Matthew 17:9). In Luke, the disciples simply don't tell anyone. In Matthew and also in Mark, it's at Jesus' request.
In Mark, as in the other gospels, the Father himself speaks and tells the disciples to listen to Jesus. This was a peak moment for me during Kevin's sermon - to ponder a holy, almighty God's pleasure in this man Jesus, his Son - and to imagine a thing so wonderful as that. And the Father says, "Listen to him!" The NIV translates this phrase in Matthew and Mark with an exclamation point! In the whole Bible, what do you think are the urgent, exclamation point moments for God? This is one of them: "listen to him!"
God says listen to Jesus, but the first thing Jesus says is, "Don't tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." It is the first thing he says, and already, I bet the disciples didn't want to listen to this. I would want to tell everybody about it, the way Peter eventually does in 2 Peter 1:12! I can imagine having an amazing experience and wanting to give the glory to God, and I don't think I'd understand if Jesus then said, "The time isn't right. Don't tell anybody yet. People will get the wrong idea."
Joy in the midst of sorrow. We want our Christian life to express this. And Jesus knows this will only be a reality for us through his cross. He says don't talk about this until I'm raised from the dead. He's telling us not to leave the ingredient of suffering and death out of the recipe of our rejoicing. They go together. The cross is where Jesus makes us like himself. Without it, the transfiguration would have been a nice experience but nothing more. Through the cross, Jesus makes us like himself - dead to sin, raised to new life. And God the Father speaks over us, "This is my beloved child!" Over us. Without the cross, we are just observers of an amazing mountain-top scene. Through the cross, we become participants in it. And we don't leave it behind. It goes with us everywhere.
People gave glory to God even though they were in a terrible situation on a cruise ship. Unless they were psychic, I don't think they knew this was going to happen. And we don't know what's going to happen to us today. Kevin said that the news world loves bad news. I agree. But the world is also aching and longing to know that people can go through hellish experiences and that even though the body suffers, the soul can still thrive. As Christians, we know what this is like because we know about the cross.
1) Is there anyone you admire for the way they've endured something difficult?
2) What is a difficult struggle you've been through? How did you get through it?
3) How is Jesus' cross a comfort to you in your hardships?
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Reflection on "A Familiar Story" (February 7 message)
Checklists. Do you make them? Do you like to cross off the tasks that you've completed? A checklist points me in the direction of a day well-lived.
But do you ever keep checklists for people? Me neither. But sometimes I suspect I have a hidden checklist in my heart that helps me to keep track of people I will help and people I won't help. It gets worse. I suspect that the list keeps me from helping anybody.
Jeff read from Luke 10:25-37 - the story of the Good Samaritan. The story is of a man who wants to know if Jesus really takes the Jewish law seriously. What Jesus understands is that this man - this "expert in the law" thinks himself competent not only to know the law but to accomplish it. "Loving God and loving neighbor is just a matter of will power! Set your mind to it, stay focused, and we can all do it." So Jesus tells him what he'd like to hear. "You are correct." But then he adds "Do this and you will live." This makes the man think a little. "Who is my neighbor?" He asks Jesus. The text says he is trying to justify himself.
He's makes checklists too. Some people make the list and are counted as "neighbors". Others aren't. And aren't we like this too? This checklist matched up very well with mine.
1) I'm not bound to help the needy; only the destitute. I meet poor people with nice TV's. Surely they are doing well enough and don't need my help.
2) I barely have enough for my own needs and for my family's needs. I really don't have anything to spare.
3) So many people are just ill-tempered and ungrateful, no matter what you give them!
4) I'm not going to help people who are in poverty by their own foolishness; worse, many are violent and I could be opening myself to harm in providing meaningful help.
This isn't my checklist. This is a list that 18th century pastor Jonathan Edwards compiled from discussions with his parishioners' struggles with the Good Samaritan scripture. I read about it in Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice: How God's Grace Makes Us Just. He describes everything I'm writing here in more detail. Seriously. The whole next paragraph is 100% from his 4th chapter. So it isn't mine, but I realize I have one just like it.
Could God have made a list like this one? Sure. He might have picked those among us more in need of grace - but as sinners we all need it. He might not have wasted his wealth on us and kept it for himself - but he was rich in love toward us instead. Ill-tempered, ungrateful, foolish, selfish, and violent. Guilty, guilty, guilty, etc. Jesus used the example of a Samaritan because Jews hated Samaritans back then. But when the expert hears the story he can't help but acknowledge that even if he didn't like Samaritans, he would be grateful for the mercy the Samaritan provided in the story. So it is with God. We are sinners. We loathe God. We don't like it when he meddles. We don't like his authority. We don't like to give him credit that we can take ourselves. We don't love him, and we don't love our neighbors. But he found us on the roadside half-dead, and he didn't keep walking. Though the Good Samaritan gave his time, energy, resources, Jesus is the Great Samaritan who gives his whole life. Rather than make a list of ways to ignore, exclude, and leave us to our own devices, he gives us his own goodness at no cost to us but at total cost to himself - his own life.
Don't misunderstand me. We need guidelines to know how to give meaningful aid to people. But as for me, I have a hard heart. I deliberately walked away from someone near me in the Walmart parking lot yesterday because I thought he might ask me for money. Even as I walked away, I could hear what I expect was the Holy Spirit speaking to my hard, but not totally deaf heart - "Who do you think you are, Chris? Have I not given you way more than the little you are afraid this man will ask of you? Have I not made you rich in love - just like myself?"
Join me in identifying your checklist and then getting rid of it. If we think it is the way to real neighbor love, we are kidding ourselves. C.S. Lewis once compared us to "an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." The answer isn't in our list, because we don't have what it takes for real neighbor love. Jesus does and gives it to us - real joy, real grace...and real neighborly love.
...it almost makes me want to hop in my car and drive to Walmart!
But do you ever keep checklists for people? Me neither. But sometimes I suspect I have a hidden checklist in my heart that helps me to keep track of people I will help and people I won't help. It gets worse. I suspect that the list keeps me from helping anybody.
Jeff read from Luke 10:25-37 - the story of the Good Samaritan. The story is of a man who wants to know if Jesus really takes the Jewish law seriously. What Jesus understands is that this man - this "expert in the law" thinks himself competent not only to know the law but to accomplish it. "Loving God and loving neighbor is just a matter of will power! Set your mind to it, stay focused, and we can all do it." So Jesus tells him what he'd like to hear. "You are correct." But then he adds "Do this and you will live." This makes the man think a little. "Who is my neighbor?" He asks Jesus. The text says he is trying to justify himself.
He's makes checklists too. Some people make the list and are counted as "neighbors". Others aren't. And aren't we like this too? This checklist matched up very well with mine.
1) I'm not bound to help the needy; only the destitute. I meet poor people with nice TV's. Surely they are doing well enough and don't need my help.
2) I barely have enough for my own needs and for my family's needs. I really don't have anything to spare.
3) So many people are just ill-tempered and ungrateful, no matter what you give them!
4) I'm not going to help people who are in poverty by their own foolishness; worse, many are violent and I could be opening myself to harm in providing meaningful help.
This isn't my checklist. This is a list that 18th century pastor Jonathan Edwards compiled from discussions with his parishioners' struggles with the Good Samaritan scripture. I read about it in Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice: How God's Grace Makes Us Just. He describes everything I'm writing here in more detail. Seriously. The whole next paragraph is 100% from his 4th chapter. So it isn't mine, but I realize I have one just like it.
Could God have made a list like this one? Sure. He might have picked those among us more in need of grace - but as sinners we all need it. He might not have wasted his wealth on us and kept it for himself - but he was rich in love toward us instead. Ill-tempered, ungrateful, foolish, selfish, and violent. Guilty, guilty, guilty, etc. Jesus used the example of a Samaritan because Jews hated Samaritans back then. But when the expert hears the story he can't help but acknowledge that even if he didn't like Samaritans, he would be grateful for the mercy the Samaritan provided in the story. So it is with God. We are sinners. We loathe God. We don't like it when he meddles. We don't like his authority. We don't like to give him credit that we can take ourselves. We don't love him, and we don't love our neighbors. But he found us on the roadside half-dead, and he didn't keep walking. Though the Good Samaritan gave his time, energy, resources, Jesus is the Great Samaritan who gives his whole life. Rather than make a list of ways to ignore, exclude, and leave us to our own devices, he gives us his own goodness at no cost to us but at total cost to himself - his own life.
Don't misunderstand me. We need guidelines to know how to give meaningful aid to people. But as for me, I have a hard heart. I deliberately walked away from someone near me in the Walmart parking lot yesterday because I thought he might ask me for money. Even as I walked away, I could hear what I expect was the Holy Spirit speaking to my hard, but not totally deaf heart - "Who do you think you are, Chris? Have I not given you way more than the little you are afraid this man will ask of you? Have I not made you rich in love - just like myself?"
Join me in identifying your checklist and then getting rid of it. If we think it is the way to real neighbor love, we are kidding ourselves. C.S. Lewis once compared us to "an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." The answer isn't in our list, because we don't have what it takes for real neighbor love. Jesus does and gives it to us - real joy, real grace...and real neighborly love.
...it almost makes me want to hop in my car and drive to Walmart!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Something Greater...
As I read through Matthew 12, I am amazed at the authority with which Jesus speaks. His authority, which is noted by the people at the end of Jesus' Great Sermon (Matt. 5-7), is the reason they follow him. It's part of what gives Jesus his wow-factor. But it isn't as though he just walks up to people, whoever they are, and just says, "Hey! I'm great." Not at all. On the contrary, there is almost a hiddenness to his glory. He heals people of all their diseases, and then orders them "not to make him known." (12:16) We are told this is to fulfill Isaiah's prophecy of God's true servant, who "will not wrangle or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets" (12:19; Isaiah 42:1-4)
Matthew 12 gives us a picture of the greatness of Jesus as he explained it to people on a daily basis.
In conversation with Pharisees, he tells them a story about temple priests who break the sabbath and punctuates his point - "I tell you, something greater than the temple is here." As they belly-ache about how he doesn't toe the line on their particular sabbath observances, he tells them a story about David taking bread, and closes with "the Son of Man is lord of the sabbath." Later, they ask Jesus for a sign of who he is. He warns them that the Ninevites received Jonah, and now the Pharisees are in trouble because "see, something greater than Jonah is here." Likewise, he warns them that the queen of the South, or Sheba (Yemen in today's map) visited Solomon and was amazed at his wisdom. She will stand in judgment over this generation, Jesus says, because "see, something greater than Solomon is here!" (12:42)
The intensity of the back-and-forth exchanges between Jesus and these people captures our attention. It is easy to overlook what Jesus is saying about himself. Greater than Jonah, Solomon, the temple, the Sabbath? How much greater? How "great" are you? No wonder these strict monotheists wanted to "destroy him" (12:14)
I think of something Scottish pastor and theologian P.T. Forsyth wrote in 1909. "All the great Christian teachers impress us with the fact that their teaching is far ahead of their experience, and that they built better than they knew. Even Paul preached a Gospel greater than anything he attained in his own soul...whereas our impression of Christ is just the converse...He received from none the Gospel he spoke. He found it in himself. Indeed it was himself. He only preached the true relation between God and man because he incarnated it, and because he established it."
Christ is something greater. To Jonah, Solomon, the temple, P.T. Forsyth would add the Apostle Paul and every Christian teacher. What can we add to this list today? Because here is what this means today:
First, everything good in this world, I mean that is truly good, is shaped by the Word of God. Jesus himself is the Word of God. Even you and me, to the extent that we are "good trees" that bear "good fruit" (12:33) it is because Jesus created us anew in his death and resurrection. So let's give thanks and speak to him face to face - our God in the flesh, greater than all he has created.
Secondly, know that he is God. It is common to read something like this: "Jesus is humble, so he would never say that we was greater than the gods of other religions." This would be a far different Jesus than we are seeing in Matthew 12 or any other part of the Bible. Yes, Jesus was humble - the humble servant who "will not wrangle or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets." He was humble in that he was really human, just like each of us. Not God merely masquerading as a human. But also "something greater than..." He is also God, the only God. The same Jesus who claims to be "something greater" in Matthew 12 claims to have "power over everything in heaven and on earth by Matthew 28. With his Father and his Spirit who lives within us, Jesus is God - not like us at all - who came down and became like us in every way so he could bring us to himself. We are greater, because something greater than us is here. Very good news, because all that he is, anything that he claims to be - this is the gift he gives to us. For he gives us himself.
Matthew 12 gives us a picture of the greatness of Jesus as he explained it to people on a daily basis.
In conversation with Pharisees, he tells them a story about temple priests who break the sabbath and punctuates his point - "I tell you, something greater than the temple is here." As they belly-ache about how he doesn't toe the line on their particular sabbath observances, he tells them a story about David taking bread, and closes with "the Son of Man is lord of the sabbath." Later, they ask Jesus for a sign of who he is. He warns them that the Ninevites received Jonah, and now the Pharisees are in trouble because "see, something greater than Jonah is here." Likewise, he warns them that the queen of the South, or Sheba (Yemen in today's map) visited Solomon and was amazed at his wisdom. She will stand in judgment over this generation, Jesus says, because "see, something greater than Solomon is here!" (12:42)
The intensity of the back-and-forth exchanges between Jesus and these people captures our attention. It is easy to overlook what Jesus is saying about himself. Greater than Jonah, Solomon, the temple, the Sabbath? How much greater? How "great" are you? No wonder these strict monotheists wanted to "destroy him" (12:14)
I think of something Scottish pastor and theologian P.T. Forsyth wrote in 1909. "All the great Christian teachers impress us with the fact that their teaching is far ahead of their experience, and that they built better than they knew. Even Paul preached a Gospel greater than anything he attained in his own soul...whereas our impression of Christ is just the converse...He received from none the Gospel he spoke. He found it in himself. Indeed it was himself. He only preached the true relation between God and man because he incarnated it, and because he established it."
Christ is something greater. To Jonah, Solomon, the temple, P.T. Forsyth would add the Apostle Paul and every Christian teacher. What can we add to this list today? Because here is what this means today:
First, everything good in this world, I mean that is truly good, is shaped by the Word of God. Jesus himself is the Word of God. Even you and me, to the extent that we are "good trees" that bear "good fruit" (12:33) it is because Jesus created us anew in his death and resurrection. So let's give thanks and speak to him face to face - our God in the flesh, greater than all he has created.
Secondly, know that he is God. It is common to read something like this: "Jesus is humble, so he would never say that we was greater than the gods of other religions." This would be a far different Jesus than we are seeing in Matthew 12 or any other part of the Bible. Yes, Jesus was humble - the humble servant who "will not wrangle or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets." He was humble in that he was really human, just like each of us. Not God merely masquerading as a human. But also "something greater than..." He is also God, the only God. The same Jesus who claims to be "something greater" in Matthew 12 claims to have "power over everything in heaven and on earth by Matthew 28. With his Father and his Spirit who lives within us, Jesus is God - not like us at all - who came down and became like us in every way so he could bring us to himself. We are greater, because something greater than us is here. Very good news, because all that he is, anything that he claims to be - this is the gift he gives to us. For he gives us himself.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
A Miracle Hidden Within Us
The coffee pot is sputtering. The scent fills the air. I sit in our family room and pray. I am doing next to nothing, but trying to be present to the one who made all things. He cares about who and what I do today. He has given gifts of new life and a new heart. I want to understand what they are, what they mean for me, and what use they might have in the world today.
God is my Father. He has orchestrated all things - sent his Son to become human, sent his Spirit to bind me to him, and acts mightily in and through every moment of my life to bind me closer in relationship to his fullness.
Jesus is my brother, my friend, my God. He is the one who meets me in the pit of my own sin when I confess to him. He is there everytime - at the cross. When I can't even remember all that I might possibly have to leave at the cross, I am still comforted, because he has already removed all of it. Through baptism, I am buried with him. I have died in him. Everything I fear the most has already been faced by Jesus on my behalf - death, yes, but also sin-death - the one that comes as payment for sin, for Paul writes, "the wages of sin is death." This, too, has come to pass.
The sun hasn't even risen yet today. But my Lord has. Jesus rose from the grave. Through faith, I rise with him to a new day, a new life, that I can't even begin to comprehend. The new life I imagine in heaven - this is real right now.
I can't quite believe it! Its too wonderful. In a few hours, the world will be so normal, so ordinary. Could it really be true? Only in him. Only in Christ. I have to figure out a way to keep my eyes on him today, not out of fear. I am convinced at least of this - that God is merciful beyond what I can imagine. But I have to figure out a way because I love him, because I want to be with him.
Do you ever wonder why it is that your brain is so powerful, so amazing in all that it does - and yet it doesn't seem to understand itself? Or that your heart, which sends vital, nutrient-rich blood all over your body, doesn't send a message to your brain each day of how important its work is? These are hidden miracles within us. So it is, I think, with the new heart and the new mind through the Holy Spirit's presence in us. Hidden, alive, working - God lives within you. Where will we be led today?
Too much for us to handle on a Wednesday morning in January? Perhaps! But it is still early. The day has not quite begun yet. I have a fighting chance of being like King David - "The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear?" (Psalm 27:1)
God, it is written in 1 Peter 1:12 that angels long to understand what it is you have done in crucifying us in the death of your Son and raising us to life in him. Angels long to know and feel what it is that is taking place in our lives. Give us eyes to see each other today as children of the Father, dearly loved and treasured - to live a peaceful but busy day, content with you.
God is my Father. He has orchestrated all things - sent his Son to become human, sent his Spirit to bind me to him, and acts mightily in and through every moment of my life to bind me closer in relationship to his fullness.
Jesus is my brother, my friend, my God. He is the one who meets me in the pit of my own sin when I confess to him. He is there everytime - at the cross. When I can't even remember all that I might possibly have to leave at the cross, I am still comforted, because he has already removed all of it. Through baptism, I am buried with him. I have died in him. Everything I fear the most has already been faced by Jesus on my behalf - death, yes, but also sin-death - the one that comes as payment for sin, for Paul writes, "the wages of sin is death." This, too, has come to pass.
The sun hasn't even risen yet today. But my Lord has. Jesus rose from the grave. Through faith, I rise with him to a new day, a new life, that I can't even begin to comprehend. The new life I imagine in heaven - this is real right now.
I can't quite believe it! Its too wonderful. In a few hours, the world will be so normal, so ordinary. Could it really be true? Only in him. Only in Christ. I have to figure out a way to keep my eyes on him today, not out of fear. I am convinced at least of this - that God is merciful beyond what I can imagine. But I have to figure out a way because I love him, because I want to be with him.
Do you ever wonder why it is that your brain is so powerful, so amazing in all that it does - and yet it doesn't seem to understand itself? Or that your heart, which sends vital, nutrient-rich blood all over your body, doesn't send a message to your brain each day of how important its work is? These are hidden miracles within us. So it is, I think, with the new heart and the new mind through the Holy Spirit's presence in us. Hidden, alive, working - God lives within you. Where will we be led today?
Too much for us to handle on a Wednesday morning in January? Perhaps! But it is still early. The day has not quite begun yet. I have a fighting chance of being like King David - "The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear?" (Psalm 27:1)
God, it is written in 1 Peter 1:12 that angels long to understand what it is you have done in crucifying us in the death of your Son and raising us to life in him. Angels long to know and feel what it is that is taking place in our lives. Give us eyes to see each other today as children of the Father, dearly loved and treasured - to live a peaceful but busy day, content with you.
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