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.
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