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?
Monday, March 18, 2013
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?
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