Some of you read this story in one of our recent family updates. But, for those of you who don't get our updates, I wanted to post it to the blog for your reading enjoyment:
Crystelle (our 6 year-old) and I planted strawberries in a planter box on our balcony back in April. For nearly two months, nothing happened. Then, sometime in early June, a little sprout popped its head up out of the soil. A few weeks later, a second sprout popped out. Although we were excited to have some evidence of life, we didn't have much hope that we'd actually have strawberries by the end of the summer.
As the summer weeks passed by, we watched these little guys grow into small plants, and our hopes started to grow along with them. Then, in August, one of the plants flowered, and by the end of August, we could see the evidence of our first little strawberry beginning to emerge. We couldn't believe it! We were so excited! As the strawberry grew, two other buds appeared and gave way to two little green strawberry babies.
The first week of September, our first strawberry began to turn red. We were ecstatic! We might actually get to eat a strawberry from our own strawberry plant. For those of you who know anything about Annie and my gardening skills, you will understand why this seemed like such a phenomenon to us. We have never planted anything that has ever lived long enough to yield an edible product!
One week later, we were having breakfast and Crystelle said, "Look dad! The strawberry looks ready to eat!" I took a closer look and, sure enough, that strawberry was plump and ripe and tempting. Still, I could see one little spot where it was a tad bit pink, and so I said, "Let's give it one more day. We'll divide it up tomorrow morning at breakfast." Everyone was excited about the idea of dividing this tiny strawberry among the 5 of us!
That afternoon, we were coming home from school and one of the neighbor boys who is in Micah's class, Théo, asked if he could come over to play. I told his dad that we could keep Théo at our place until about 6 P.M. So, we headed for our apartment and the boys immediately got into superhero dress-ups. I sat down at my desk to go through some mail, and everything seemed to be going fine until Micah came running into my room shouting, "Théo ate the strawberry!"
My initial shock turned to a brief moment of internal rage, which then yielded itself to a helpless and profound sadness. As I made my way through the apartment to the balcony, I could see Théo with a big grin on his face and a bit of strawberry juice streaming down his chin. Crystelle came running. She took one look at the strawberry plant that was now void of its treasure (Théo had also picked the next largest strawberry on the plant leaving only one little green strawberry clinging for dear life) and she burst into tears.
I didn't know what to do or what to say. I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry with Crystelle. Instead I just held her in my arms for awhile as my body temperature cooled back down to normal, and as the violent thunder storm in my head dissipated. I gently explained to Théo, who was very confused about what the problem was, why Crystelle was crying. He shrugged his shoulders and ran off to find a nerf sword with which to attack Micah, who was dressed up as Mr. Incredible.
A few hours later, as I recounted the story to Annie, we had a good laugh together over how much that little strawberry meant to our family. The loss of that little strawberry was like the death of a family pet. It was tragic in a way that, to some, might seem absurd. But it had been a little object of hope for us through the summer months. We had talked about it, dreamed about it, watched its birth and growth with great interest, and anticipated its ripening as much as we might anticipate the coming of a birthday or the visit of a dear family member.
In a split second, this little treasure had been violently picked and popped into the mouth of a 4 year-old boy that had no idea of its immense value and importance. Our family would not have simply eaten that little strawberry. We would have ceremoniously partaken of it as the achievement of a once-thought unachievable goal.
Fortunately, in the wake of this mindless and heinous act, one surviving strawberry was left. Even as I type, it is ripening on the vine. It should only be a matter of days now before we painstakingly remove it from its housing, carefully divide it into tiny morcels, and consume it together in celebration of our accomplishment. And this week, we are receiving no visitors!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
God told me . . .
I learned a hard but important lesson this week that I wanted to pass on.
I have always been bugged by the phrase, “God told me . . .” Some Christians use this phrase quite often, and I have found myself wondering what makes them so sure that they are hearing from God. The vast majority of the time, when people say that God told them something, they do not mean that God spoke audibly to them. Neither do they mean that God’s written Word communicated some important truth or message. Rather, they are usually referring to an impression or feeling, a thought or idea; some sense that a message has come to them from God by way of their sentiments or their intellect, often providing specific guidance relating to some decision or problem or life experience.
Although I do believe that impressions like these are one of the many ways that God may communicate with His children, the fact that they are entirely subjective makes me cautious about placing much weight upon them if they are not confirmed and reinforced through other more solid sources of wisdom (God’s Word, godly counselors, etc.). In other words, I don’t think that an idea or feeling that may have come from the Lord should ever be the primary basis for decisions that I make or for advice that I give.
With that being said, I must confess that I recently made the mistake of placing too much weight on an impression that I believed had come from the Lord. Here’s what happened:
For several weeks I had been praying about what next steps to take with a friend that I am discipling. Spiritually, he has been stuck in a rut for a very long time, unable to make much progress or experience much victory. One particular morning, I had spent an extended period of time praying over him and his family. During this prayer time, I felt that the Lord gave me a clear idea of what I should do next with this friend. The plan included several very concrete elements that seemed to have been simply laid out before me as I prayed. This doesn’t happen very often for me, and I was really excited at what seemed to be the Lord’s obvious leading in response to my prayers.
Several days later, I met with my friend and his wife to tell them about what had happened. With a great deal of enthusiasm, I described how I had been praying for them, and how I sensed that the Lord had given me insight regarding our next steps. I clearly expressed the fact that this could simply be my own active imagination, and I asked them to pray about the project that I had presented in order to determine whether or not they felt it was from the Lord. At the same time, in describing the project, I talked about my own “conviction” that this was from God and that He had responded to my prayers.
Within two days, I received a phone call from my friend confirming that he wanted to move forward with the plan. Over the next few weeks, as we followed through on what we had decided to do, I could sense an increasing unease in my friend regarding one particular aspect of the project: a fast that we had committed to do once a week for three months. When he started to express uncertainty about whether the fast was a good idea, I confidently referred back to the “clear” guidance that “we” had received at the outset, and encouraged him to persevere in “obedience” to the Lord’s “leading.”
He started to seek out counsel from several leaders in the church to see what they thought about the fast we were doing. All of them expressed some hesitations about it, given my friend’s instability and his psychological condition (he is bipolar). My initial response to this was a rather prideful frustration over the fact that these men were clearly not being sensitive to the Spirit and were simply basing their responses on worldly logic.
It wasn’t until several mornings ago, when I met with my friend for a time of prayer, that I started to realize what I had actually been doing. As we talked through our perspectives on what was happening, he took me back to the initial meeting when I presented the “vision” that I felt I had received. He reminded me of certain words that I used, and of the enthusiasm with which I spoke. It was convincing. It was hard to disagree with. He didn’t have any better ideas, so, why not?
Without realizing it at the time, what I had communicated to my friend in that initial presentation was: God told me! What choice did he have but to go along with it? How do you disagree with someone who has heard from God?
And there, I think, is the major danger with that phrase . . . with that concept, whether overtly stated or merely implied. The only rock solid source of divine inspiration that we have today is God’s written Word. The words of the Bible are the only words that I can communicate to someone else with absolute certainty of their divine origin. Outside of God’s written Word, all other messages, impressions, sentiments, feelings, ideas, revelations, visions and dreams must be treated with a healthy skepticism given the reality of our sinful nature, the subtle influence of worldly thinking, and the interference of spiritual enemies.
When we do feel convinced that we have “heard from God” in a way that does not flow directly from His written Word, I think it is important to avoid communicating that which we have received to others in a way that suggests it carries some exceptional spiritual weight or authority. Rather, I think it should be submitted with great humility and caution to godly brothers and sisters who may either help confirm or reject the validity of the message in accordance with the clear teaching of God’s Word.
Unfortunately today, the excesses of certain branches of the charismatic and pentecostal movement with regard to the role of the Spirit and the use of what some refer to as “prophetic words” has caused more conservative branches of the Church to completely reject the idea that God’s Spirit might speak to His children in any way other than directly through the written Word. Although, as I mentioned above, I do believe that the Spirit of God does speak to and guide us in a wide variety of ways that are always consistent with His written Word, it is because of such excesses that I think we need to be particularly vigilant and cautious in our handling of any source of guidance that does not directly flow from the inspired Word of God.
I have always been bugged by the phrase, “God told me . . .” Some Christians use this phrase quite often, and I have found myself wondering what makes them so sure that they are hearing from God. The vast majority of the time, when people say that God told them something, they do not mean that God spoke audibly to them. Neither do they mean that God’s written Word communicated some important truth or message. Rather, they are usually referring to an impression or feeling, a thought or idea; some sense that a message has come to them from God by way of their sentiments or their intellect, often providing specific guidance relating to some decision or problem or life experience.
Although I do believe that impressions like these are one of the many ways that God may communicate with His children, the fact that they are entirely subjective makes me cautious about placing much weight upon them if they are not confirmed and reinforced through other more solid sources of wisdom (God’s Word, godly counselors, etc.). In other words, I don’t think that an idea or feeling that may have come from the Lord should ever be the primary basis for decisions that I make or for advice that I give.
With that being said, I must confess that I recently made the mistake of placing too much weight on an impression that I believed had come from the Lord. Here’s what happened:
For several weeks I had been praying about what next steps to take with a friend that I am discipling. Spiritually, he has been stuck in a rut for a very long time, unable to make much progress or experience much victory. One particular morning, I had spent an extended period of time praying over him and his family. During this prayer time, I felt that the Lord gave me a clear idea of what I should do next with this friend. The plan included several very concrete elements that seemed to have been simply laid out before me as I prayed. This doesn’t happen very often for me, and I was really excited at what seemed to be the Lord’s obvious leading in response to my prayers.
Several days later, I met with my friend and his wife to tell them about what had happened. With a great deal of enthusiasm, I described how I had been praying for them, and how I sensed that the Lord had given me insight regarding our next steps. I clearly expressed the fact that this could simply be my own active imagination, and I asked them to pray about the project that I had presented in order to determine whether or not they felt it was from the Lord. At the same time, in describing the project, I talked about my own “conviction” that this was from God and that He had responded to my prayers.
Within two days, I received a phone call from my friend confirming that he wanted to move forward with the plan. Over the next few weeks, as we followed through on what we had decided to do, I could sense an increasing unease in my friend regarding one particular aspect of the project: a fast that we had committed to do once a week for three months. When he started to express uncertainty about whether the fast was a good idea, I confidently referred back to the “clear” guidance that “we” had received at the outset, and encouraged him to persevere in “obedience” to the Lord’s “leading.”
He started to seek out counsel from several leaders in the church to see what they thought about the fast we were doing. All of them expressed some hesitations about it, given my friend’s instability and his psychological condition (he is bipolar). My initial response to this was a rather prideful frustration over the fact that these men were clearly not being sensitive to the Spirit and were simply basing their responses on worldly logic.
It wasn’t until several mornings ago, when I met with my friend for a time of prayer, that I started to realize what I had actually been doing. As we talked through our perspectives on what was happening, he took me back to the initial meeting when I presented the “vision” that I felt I had received. He reminded me of certain words that I used, and of the enthusiasm with which I spoke. It was convincing. It was hard to disagree with. He didn’t have any better ideas, so, why not?
Without realizing it at the time, what I had communicated to my friend in that initial presentation was: God told me! What choice did he have but to go along with it? How do you disagree with someone who has heard from God?
And there, I think, is the major danger with that phrase . . . with that concept, whether overtly stated or merely implied. The only rock solid source of divine inspiration that we have today is God’s written Word. The words of the Bible are the only words that I can communicate to someone else with absolute certainty of their divine origin. Outside of God’s written Word, all other messages, impressions, sentiments, feelings, ideas, revelations, visions and dreams must be treated with a healthy skepticism given the reality of our sinful nature, the subtle influence of worldly thinking, and the interference of spiritual enemies.
When we do feel convinced that we have “heard from God” in a way that does not flow directly from His written Word, I think it is important to avoid communicating that which we have received to others in a way that suggests it carries some exceptional spiritual weight or authority. Rather, I think it should be submitted with great humility and caution to godly brothers and sisters who may either help confirm or reject the validity of the message in accordance with the clear teaching of God’s Word.
Unfortunately today, the excesses of certain branches of the charismatic and pentecostal movement with regard to the role of the Spirit and the use of what some refer to as “prophetic words” has caused more conservative branches of the Church to completely reject the idea that God’s Spirit might speak to His children in any way other than directly through the written Word. Although, as I mentioned above, I do believe that the Spirit of God does speak to and guide us in a wide variety of ways that are always consistent with His written Word, it is because of such excesses that I think we need to be particularly vigilant and cautious in our handling of any source of guidance that does not directly flow from the inspired Word of God.
Monday, September 8, 2008
arrogance and assurance
I think it is easy to get arrogance and assurance mixed up. While arrogance is clearly the fruit of pride, assurance sprouts from a different root. And although God is clearly opposed to arrogance and pride in all of their forms, God’s Word portrays assurance as something to be desired and displayed by His beloved. It would be helpful to examine all of the occurences of the word “assurance” in the Bible, but I simply want to whet your appetite by looking at one from the book of Hebrews:
Hebrews 10:19-23
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great high priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.
The author of this passage gives three exhortations (let us . . . let us . . . let us) that are rooted in two profound truths (since we . . . since we).
SINCE WE have confidence to enter the holy place
by the blood of Jesus
by the new and living way opened through the curtain.
SINCE WE have a great high priest over the house of God.
The two truths here are really one and the same, and might be stated this way:
SINCE WE HAVE JESUS!!!
LET US draw near
With a true heart in full assurance of FAITH.
LET US hold fast
The confession of our HOPE without wavering.
LET US consider
How to stir up one another to LOVE and good works.
Since we have Jesus let us draw near. It is interesting to consider the relationship between the three words that are linked to this idea of drawing near. We draw near to our God, entering the holy place with CONFIDENCE, with a true heart in full ASSURANCE of FAITH. Condidence, assurance, faith.
Since we have Jesus let us hold fast. This command adds to our list the idea of an UNWAVERING HOPE. Confidence, assurance, faith, unwavering hope. In the following chapter of Hebrews, chapter 11, the author defines FAITH as the ASSURANCE of things HOPED for, the CONVICTION of (or we might say CONFIDENCE in) things not seen. So, we might say that faith, assurance, and confidence or conviction in this context are all synonyms. They are all manifestations of a muscle-bound hope in Jesus.
What happens when Christians characterized by this muscle-bound hope in Jesus that we call assurance, or faith, or confidence, or conviction spend time together? They stir one another up!
Since we have Jesus let us consider how to stir one another up to LOVE and good works. When you put a bunch of Christians filled with muscle-bound hope in Jesus into the same pot and stir them up, you end up with a tasty delicacy of love and good works.
Unfortunately, I think that we are often afraid to walk in the assurance, faith, and confidence that are ours in Christ, particularly when spending time with other Christians. We don’t want to come off as arrogant or proud. We don’t want to seem “super-spiritual” or “holier than thou.” And so, we shy away from spiritual topics. We hesitate to speak about our love for the Lord, or the truths that we are discovering in His Word, or the fruit that He is bearing in our lives. And the result is that much of our “Christian” fellowship is actually quite fleshly. It doesn’t smell much like Christ at all.
When brothers and sisters in Christ succeed in distinguishing between a sinful arrogance and a saintly assurance in Christ, genuine spiritual community results, and this always overflows into love and good works. We let our love for the Lord spill over in our interactions with one another. We boldly point one another to the cross again and again. We willingly open God’s Word together, and gladly receive whatever instruction and insight that springs forth. We graciously rebuke sinful behavior in one another, sharpening eachother as iron sharpens iron. We spur eachother on to righteousness and justice.
I don’t know about you, but I am hungry for time with faith-filled men and women whose confidence is not in the flesh (arrogance) but in the grace and power of Christ (assurance). May I be filled with the Spirit of Christ today such that I will walk in the assurance that He gives me, and spur others around me on to do the same. Amen.
Hebrews 10:19-23
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great high priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.
The author of this passage gives three exhortations (let us . . . let us . . . let us) that are rooted in two profound truths (since we . . . since we).
SINCE WE have confidence to enter the holy place
by the blood of Jesus
by the new and living way opened through the curtain.
SINCE WE have a great high priest over the house of God.
The two truths here are really one and the same, and might be stated this way:
SINCE WE HAVE JESUS!!!
LET US draw near
With a true heart in full assurance of FAITH.
LET US hold fast
The confession of our HOPE without wavering.
LET US consider
How to stir up one another to LOVE and good works.
Since we have Jesus let us draw near. It is interesting to consider the relationship between the three words that are linked to this idea of drawing near. We draw near to our God, entering the holy place with CONFIDENCE, with a true heart in full ASSURANCE of FAITH. Condidence, assurance, faith.
Since we have Jesus let us hold fast. This command adds to our list the idea of an UNWAVERING HOPE. Confidence, assurance, faith, unwavering hope. In the following chapter of Hebrews, chapter 11, the author defines FAITH as the ASSURANCE of things HOPED for, the CONVICTION of (or we might say CONFIDENCE in) things not seen. So, we might say that faith, assurance, and confidence or conviction in this context are all synonyms. They are all manifestations of a muscle-bound hope in Jesus.
What happens when Christians characterized by this muscle-bound hope in Jesus that we call assurance, or faith, or confidence, or conviction spend time together? They stir one another up!
Since we have Jesus let us consider how to stir one another up to LOVE and good works. When you put a bunch of Christians filled with muscle-bound hope in Jesus into the same pot and stir them up, you end up with a tasty delicacy of love and good works.
Unfortunately, I think that we are often afraid to walk in the assurance, faith, and confidence that are ours in Christ, particularly when spending time with other Christians. We don’t want to come off as arrogant or proud. We don’t want to seem “super-spiritual” or “holier than thou.” And so, we shy away from spiritual topics. We hesitate to speak about our love for the Lord, or the truths that we are discovering in His Word, or the fruit that He is bearing in our lives. And the result is that much of our “Christian” fellowship is actually quite fleshly. It doesn’t smell much like Christ at all.
When brothers and sisters in Christ succeed in distinguishing between a sinful arrogance and a saintly assurance in Christ, genuine spiritual community results, and this always overflows into love and good works. We let our love for the Lord spill over in our interactions with one another. We boldly point one another to the cross again and again. We willingly open God’s Word together, and gladly receive whatever instruction and insight that springs forth. We graciously rebuke sinful behavior in one another, sharpening eachother as iron sharpens iron. We spur eachother on to righteousness and justice.
I don’t know about you, but I am hungry for time with faith-filled men and women whose confidence is not in the flesh (arrogance) but in the grace and power of Christ (assurance). May I be filled with the Spirit of Christ today such that I will walk in the assurance that He gives me, and spur others around me on to do the same. Amen.
Monday, August 11, 2008
sticks and stones
I was reminded recently that I still foolishly believe in my own ability to right societal wrongs by taking justice into my hands. Although the lesson left me scraped and bruised (literally), I'm sure it is one that I won't soon forget.
I was jogging along a path for bikers and runners last week when I heard the sound of a dirtbike coming my way. Motorized vehicles are normally not allowed on this path for safety reasons, and I could feel the anger rising in me at the fact that yet another young punk had decided to break the law and put people at risk.
For some reason, I made a split second decision to do something about it and placed myself in the middle of the path as the biker raced toward me. I put my hands out motioning for him to slow down, which of course, he did not. He sped right past me, close enough for us to brush shoulders, and kicked his foot out just a tad bit too late to actually hurt me. He turned back and flicked me off with a universal sign of disapproval before carrying on with his ride.
With heart racing and still feeling in a bit of a huff over the encounter, I continued my run. I must admit that several times in the minutes that followed, I imagined various aggressive and even violent scenarios in which I replayed the clash, mostly to my own advantage. I was surprised at how quickly my mind got carried away with my emotions, and how creatively it conjured up alternative courses of action.
And then I noticed him. A young man, around 17 or 18, possibly of North African or Arab descent, standing at a junction in the road ahead. He was holding a large, sharpened stone in his hand, and was clearly waiting for someone. As it turned out, that someone was me. It was my dirtbiker friend.
I slowed down as he came toward me, and said to him in French, "You're the guy on the dirtbike." He tried to conceal the stone, and actually claimed that he had a knife in his pocket. He began screaming at me, threatening to kill me, and eventually holding the stone up as if he was going to strike me. He wanted to know why I had gotten in his way, why I had "attacked" him. "No one does that to me," he shouted several times.
The rage that he displayed undoubtedly had far deeper roots than our brief encounter on the trail, but I was now its object; I had made myself an excuse for the unleashing of a pent up storm. I could tell that he wanted very much to strike me, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to do it. He told me to apologize, which I did, and then he seemed ready to leave me alone.
Then it happened again. That sense of need to right a wrong, to take justice into my own hands, kicked in. As he walked away I foolishly said, "I was wrong, and what I did was stupid, but you were wrong too." Well that pushed him over the edge. He came at me with a fury that I have never encountered before in my life. Still unable to bring himself to strike me with the stone, he began kicking me and screaming at me to leave, which I was more than glad to do.
But as I turned to walk away, he just kept kicking me. Twice. Three times. A fourth time even harder than before. And with this last kick, I turned as he was extending his foot for a fifth blow. I grabbed hold of his foot and took him down to the ground. For a brief moment we fought for the stone that he still clutched in his hands. I succeeded at dislodging it from his grasp and tossed it far from us.
By this time, several of his relatives had driven up and were yelling at us to stop. I let him go and he immediately raced over to them to explain that I had attacked him. He went looking for his stone as one of the ladies yelled at me to run away . . . advice that I readily accepted.
When I finally got home, I noticed the deep gashes on my knee and the scrapes on my arm. I could feel my heart pumping inside of me as I replayed the event over and over in my mind. Who would believe that I had just been in a fight with a teen-age dirtbiker? The absurdity of it was almost laughable. I imagined one of his family members walking into our church some Sunday morning when I was in the pulpit giving the message and saying, "that's the guy that attacked our boy!"
In the days that followed, I asked the Lord about what I could learn from this humiliating experience. I knew for sure that He was very pleased that my pride had taken such a beating, but with the pleasure of a loving Daddy who wants His child to learn a hard lesson that he refuses to learn.
The idea that has come to mind again and again is that no form of violence or aggression will ever succeed at bringing about justice. Justice is the work of the Lord. My decision to confront that young man physically was taken as a sign of aggression, and it failed to accomplish the desired purpose. Actually, it simply made matters worse, inviting an aggressive and violent response.
In the past few days, I have thanked the Lord for the limited consequences of this lesson in lowliness, knowing that a different set of circumstances could have produced a far more painful and perhaps enduring result.
Interestingly, a few days ago, I was at the church praying when a man came in carrying a piece of metal pipe. I was the only person at the church at the time, and the man was clearly angry. I quickly prayed for grace and for the Lord's peace, and then approached the man to find out what was up. He had come to "regulate" a conflict he had had with a member of the church, and he showed me his metal pipe.
I could sense the peace of the Lord flowing through me in this moment as I talked the situation through with the man. We even opened God's Word together and read from the book of Galatians. Part way through our discussion, he put his metal pipe away and said, "I think I had better get rid of this thing."
It was truly a joy to be used as an instrument of God's peace, and I sensed the Lord redeeming my previous encounter through this experience.
The gospel calls us to radical acts of social justice, but I am of the opinion that these will never require aggression or hostility of any kind. Although they may put us in danger, it will not be because someone feels physically threatened by us. Following Jesus will inevitably bring us into conflict with others, but if we suffer, let us suffer for doing good (not for being foolish as I was). This calls to mind a passage from 1 Peter, with which I will close:
Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler (maybe I would have fit into this category). Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name . . . Therefore let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good (I Peter 4:12-16, 19).
I was jogging along a path for bikers and runners last week when I heard the sound of a dirtbike coming my way. Motorized vehicles are normally not allowed on this path for safety reasons, and I could feel the anger rising in me at the fact that yet another young punk had decided to break the law and put people at risk.
For some reason, I made a split second decision to do something about it and placed myself in the middle of the path as the biker raced toward me. I put my hands out motioning for him to slow down, which of course, he did not. He sped right past me, close enough for us to brush shoulders, and kicked his foot out just a tad bit too late to actually hurt me. He turned back and flicked me off with a universal sign of disapproval before carrying on with his ride.
With heart racing and still feeling in a bit of a huff over the encounter, I continued my run. I must admit that several times in the minutes that followed, I imagined various aggressive and even violent scenarios in which I replayed the clash, mostly to my own advantage. I was surprised at how quickly my mind got carried away with my emotions, and how creatively it conjured up alternative courses of action.
And then I noticed him. A young man, around 17 or 18, possibly of North African or Arab descent, standing at a junction in the road ahead. He was holding a large, sharpened stone in his hand, and was clearly waiting for someone. As it turned out, that someone was me. It was my dirtbiker friend.
I slowed down as he came toward me, and said to him in French, "You're the guy on the dirtbike." He tried to conceal the stone, and actually claimed that he had a knife in his pocket. He began screaming at me, threatening to kill me, and eventually holding the stone up as if he was going to strike me. He wanted to know why I had gotten in his way, why I had "attacked" him. "No one does that to me," he shouted several times.
The rage that he displayed undoubtedly had far deeper roots than our brief encounter on the trail, but I was now its object; I had made myself an excuse for the unleashing of a pent up storm. I could tell that he wanted very much to strike me, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to do it. He told me to apologize, which I did, and then he seemed ready to leave me alone.
Then it happened again. That sense of need to right a wrong, to take justice into my own hands, kicked in. As he walked away I foolishly said, "I was wrong, and what I did was stupid, but you were wrong too." Well that pushed him over the edge. He came at me with a fury that I have never encountered before in my life. Still unable to bring himself to strike me with the stone, he began kicking me and screaming at me to leave, which I was more than glad to do.
But as I turned to walk away, he just kept kicking me. Twice. Three times. A fourth time even harder than before. And with this last kick, I turned as he was extending his foot for a fifth blow. I grabbed hold of his foot and took him down to the ground. For a brief moment we fought for the stone that he still clutched in his hands. I succeeded at dislodging it from his grasp and tossed it far from us.
By this time, several of his relatives had driven up and were yelling at us to stop. I let him go and he immediately raced over to them to explain that I had attacked him. He went looking for his stone as one of the ladies yelled at me to run away . . . advice that I readily accepted.
When I finally got home, I noticed the deep gashes on my knee and the scrapes on my arm. I could feel my heart pumping inside of me as I replayed the event over and over in my mind. Who would believe that I had just been in a fight with a teen-age dirtbiker? The absurdity of it was almost laughable. I imagined one of his family members walking into our church some Sunday morning when I was in the pulpit giving the message and saying, "that's the guy that attacked our boy!"
In the days that followed, I asked the Lord about what I could learn from this humiliating experience. I knew for sure that He was very pleased that my pride had taken such a beating, but with the pleasure of a loving Daddy who wants His child to learn a hard lesson that he refuses to learn.
The idea that has come to mind again and again is that no form of violence or aggression will ever succeed at bringing about justice. Justice is the work of the Lord. My decision to confront that young man physically was taken as a sign of aggression, and it failed to accomplish the desired purpose. Actually, it simply made matters worse, inviting an aggressive and violent response.
In the past few days, I have thanked the Lord for the limited consequences of this lesson in lowliness, knowing that a different set of circumstances could have produced a far more painful and perhaps enduring result.
Interestingly, a few days ago, I was at the church praying when a man came in carrying a piece of metal pipe. I was the only person at the church at the time, and the man was clearly angry. I quickly prayed for grace and for the Lord's peace, and then approached the man to find out what was up. He had come to "regulate" a conflict he had had with a member of the church, and he showed me his metal pipe.
I could sense the peace of the Lord flowing through me in this moment as I talked the situation through with the man. We even opened God's Word together and read from the book of Galatians. Part way through our discussion, he put his metal pipe away and said, "I think I had better get rid of this thing."
It was truly a joy to be used as an instrument of God's peace, and I sensed the Lord redeeming my previous encounter through this experience.
The gospel calls us to radical acts of social justice, but I am of the opinion that these will never require aggression or hostility of any kind. Although they may put us in danger, it will not be because someone feels physically threatened by us. Following Jesus will inevitably bring us into conflict with others, but if we suffer, let us suffer for doing good (not for being foolish as I was). This calls to mind a passage from 1 Peter, with which I will close:
Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler (maybe I would have fit into this category). Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name . . . Therefore let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good (I Peter 4:12-16, 19).
power from on high
I wanted to pass on the lyrics to a song that I wrote several months ago. I still don't like the melody, which is why you won't find a link to me singing it on Youtube. But, I have often been encouraged by the lyrics and so decided to post them for the benefit of any who might stumble across them.
Chorus
There is power from on high
For those who are lowly
The children who know me
And look for my return
How I love to supply
The humble who hear me
The faithful who fear me
With that for which they yearn
Oh, when will you learn
To wait for power from on high?
Verse 1
Though I'm leaving you now, don't be troubled
For I go to prepare you a place
When I come back our joy will be doubled
Once again we will see face to face
In the meantime I'm sending a Helper
Who will guide you and teach you the truth
When you're lost look to Him and find shelter
He will come make His dwelling in you
Yes, He will come make His dwelling in you
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Now I send you like sheep into danger
Where the wolves wait to wrip you apart
In this world you are aliens and strangers
So above all you must guard your heart
If you ask me I'll clothe you in armor
With a breastplate, a belt, and some boots
I will give you a shield and a helmet
And the sword of the Spirit of truth
You'll need the sword of the Spirit of truth
Bridge
And if you wait for my Spirit and walk in my Word
You may ask what you wish and you will be heard
If you wait for my Spirit and walk in my Word
You may ask what you wish and you will be heard
Repeat Chorus
Chorus
There is power from on high
For those who are lowly
The children who know me
And look for my return
How I love to supply
The humble who hear me
The faithful who fear me
With that for which they yearn
Oh, when will you learn
To wait for power from on high?
Verse 1
Though I'm leaving you now, don't be troubled
For I go to prepare you a place
When I come back our joy will be doubled
Once again we will see face to face
In the meantime I'm sending a Helper
Who will guide you and teach you the truth
When you're lost look to Him and find shelter
He will come make His dwelling in you
Yes, He will come make His dwelling in you
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Now I send you like sheep into danger
Where the wolves wait to wrip you apart
In this world you are aliens and strangers
So above all you must guard your heart
If you ask me I'll clothe you in armor
With a breastplate, a belt, and some boots
I will give you a shield and a helmet
And the sword of the Spirit of truth
You'll need the sword of the Spirit of truth
Bridge
And if you wait for my Spirit and walk in my Word
You may ask what you wish and you will be heard
If you wait for my Spirit and walk in my Word
You may ask what you wish and you will be heard
Repeat Chorus
Saturday, June 21, 2008
a word from the gospel coalition
This morning I was profoundly encouraged and challenged as I read over several documents produced by the "Gospel Coalition." Convinced that you will be equally blessed if you take the time to peruse their web site, I wanted to give you the link so you can check it out:
http://www.thegospelcoalition.org/
Below is a brief excerpt from a section of the Theological Vision for Ministry, entitled, "In what ways is the gospel unique?" Several statements here struck me in light of my previous post. For those that might be interested, an earlier section of this same document, entitled, "How should we respond to the cultural crisis of truth?" engages the common accusation of "arrogance" that I recently touched on.
To give a little context, this passage treats, in light of the gospel, the limitations of both religion or moralism (traditions and practices that are not rooted in and flowing from a right understanding and application of the gospel) and irreligion or secularism (a way of thinking and living that excludes God and His revelation). The language is a bit dense, but worth the multiple readings that may be necessary for proper digestion.
The text:
This gospel fills Christians with humility and hope, meekness and boldness, in a unique way. The biblical gospel differs markedly from traditional religions as well as from secularism. Religions operate on the principle: “I obey, therefore I am accepted,” but the gospel principle is: “I am accepted through Christ, therefore I obey.” So the gospel differs from both irreligion and religion. You can seek to be your own “lord and savior” by breaking the law of God, but you can also do so by keeping the law in order to earn your salvation.
Irreligion and secularism tend to inflate self-encouraging, uncritical, “self-esteem”; religion and moralism crush people under guilt from ethical standards that are impossible to maintain. The gospel, however, humbles and affirms us at the same time, since, in Christ, each of us is simultaneously just, and a sinner still. At the same time, we are more flawed and sinful than we ever dared believe, yet we are more loved and accepted than we ever dared hope.
Secularism tends to make people selfish and individualistic. Religion and morality in general tend to make people tribal and self-righteous toward other groups (since their salvation has, they think, been earned by their achievement). But the gospel of grace, centered on a man dying for us while we were his enemies, removes self-righteousness and selfishness and turns its members to serve others both for the temporal flourishing of all people, especially the poor, and for their salvation. It moves us to serve others irrespective of their merits, just as Christ served us (Mark 10:45).
Secularism and religion conform people to behavioral norms through fear (of consequences) and pride (a desire for self-aggrandizement). The gospel moves people to holiness and service out of grateful joy for grace, and out of love of the glory of God for who he is in himself.
http://www.thegospelcoalition.org/
Below is a brief excerpt from a section of the Theological Vision for Ministry, entitled, "In what ways is the gospel unique?" Several statements here struck me in light of my previous post. For those that might be interested, an earlier section of this same document, entitled, "How should we respond to the cultural crisis of truth?" engages the common accusation of "arrogance" that I recently touched on.
To give a little context, this passage treats, in light of the gospel, the limitations of both religion or moralism (traditions and practices that are not rooted in and flowing from a right understanding and application of the gospel) and irreligion or secularism (a way of thinking and living that excludes God and His revelation). The language is a bit dense, but worth the multiple readings that may be necessary for proper digestion.
The text:
This gospel fills Christians with humility and hope, meekness and boldness, in a unique way. The biblical gospel differs markedly from traditional religions as well as from secularism. Religions operate on the principle: “I obey, therefore I am accepted,” but the gospel principle is: “I am accepted through Christ, therefore I obey.” So the gospel differs from both irreligion and religion. You can seek to be your own “lord and savior” by breaking the law of God, but you can also do so by keeping the law in order to earn your salvation.
Irreligion and secularism tend to inflate self-encouraging, uncritical, “self-esteem”; religion and moralism crush people under guilt from ethical standards that are impossible to maintain. The gospel, however, humbles and affirms us at the same time, since, in Christ, each of us is simultaneously just, and a sinner still. At the same time, we are more flawed and sinful than we ever dared believe, yet we are more loved and accepted than we ever dared hope.
Secularism tends to make people selfish and individualistic. Religion and morality in general tend to make people tribal and self-righteous toward other groups (since their salvation has, they think, been earned by their achievement). But the gospel of grace, centered on a man dying for us while we were his enemies, removes self-righteousness and selfishness and turns its members to serve others both for the temporal flourishing of all people, especially the poor, and for their salvation. It moves us to serve others irrespective of their merits, just as Christ served us (Mark 10:45).
Secularism and religion conform people to behavioral norms through fear (of consequences) and pride (a desire for self-aggrandizement). The gospel moves people to holiness and service out of grateful joy for grace, and out of love of the glory of God for who he is in himself.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
arrogance and "the only way"
I recently spoke with a dear friend from high school who I respect enormously even though she continues to reject the idea of a personal God. Over the years, we have had many profound conversations about faith and philosophy. Each of them ends the same way: we agree to disagree.
In this most recent interaction, she brought up the Christian claim of “exclusivity”: the idea that salvation is found in no one but Jesus. Like the vast majority of postmodern thinkers, she finds this assertion to be disgustingly arrogant. And I must admit that, at first glance (as well as at second, third and fourth glance), the Christian belief that Christ is the “only way” to be reconciled to God smells like a superiority complex: we’ve got the truth . . . you don’t . . . so if you’ll just think like us, you’ll be alright.
Isn’t it contradictory for men and women who are called to lowliness and humility to accept a belief that fuels arrogance and superiority? Lowliness and superiority, humility and arrogance are mutually exclusive. And there is no question that belief in the uniqueness of Christ has fueled attitudes of arrogance and superiority in a substantial number of Western Christians. The stench of pride permeates much of what we hear from Christians on television, on the radio and on the internet: we’ve got it . . . you don’t . . . get with it!! And no place reeks more with the putrid odor of pride than the Christian blogosphere (if you don’t spend much time reading Christian blogs like mine, I recommend that you continue to keep your distance . . . it can honestly be a nauseating experience).
So what do we make of this dilemma? Does the ample evidence of arrogance in Christians suggest that there is something flawed in the doctrine of salvation by faith in Christ alone? I honestly don’t think that it does. Rather, I think that the arrogance that manifests itself in many of us is the result of a misunderstanding and misapplication of this precious truth. And unfortunately, our mistake makes it very difficult for the world around us to digest what it is that we have to offer.
And what do we have to offer? We offer the idea that there is a God who exists . . . a God who is there (as Francis Schaeffer puts it). This God has a personality, a character that is on certain levels knowable, and on other levels beyond comprehension. We believe that God has chosen to reveal His character, His nature to mankind through the wonders of His creation, as well as through written texts that we call scripture. These texts have been compiled in a book that we call the Bible. Through the Bible, we believe that God shows us not only who He is, but what He wants. He explains why He created us and what the purpose is behind our story.
Now, if I sat down and came up with my own concept of a deity, wrote a book about it, and submitted it to the world as the exclusive truth about the one and only God, this would undoubtedly be arrogant. But, if I am exposed to this book called the Bible, which was written by many different people in many different places over the course of many centuries and yet still presents a unified vision of a God who claims to love people like me and to want a relationship with them, a God who claims to have a purpose and goal for their lives . . . and if I choose to believe that what this book says is true and to live according to what it says rather than to live however I want, then this would be anything but arrogant. Foolish maybe, but not arrogant. Naïve perhaps, but not arrogant.
If I believe the Bible when it tells me that I am helpless to rescue myself from the flawed nature of this world and that I need God’s help in order to be saved, then this is anything but arrogant. If I believe the Bible when it tells me that God showed mankind His love by coming to earth in the form of a man and living among us, and dying on a cross to pay the penalty for our rebellion against Him, and rising again from the dead in order to defeat the power that sin and death once held over us, then this might border on insanity, but it is not arrogant.
When I tell others that God wants a relationship with them and that He has made a way for such a relationship to take place if they will only believe, this may be complete nonsense, but it is not arrogant. When I say that God invites all who trust in Him for salvation to spend eternity with Him, and that this invitation requires nothing of us but simple faith in His promise, this may be a pipe-dream, but it is not arrogant.
The point that I am trying to make is that the idea that there is one God who has expressed Himself to the world through one Book (though divine truths can be found all over the place), and who has chosen to save the world through one historic event, and who invites all of mankind to receive salvation by taking one simple step of faith may be entirely ludicrous, but it is not arrogant. Nothing about this belief elevates the individual who believes it. In fact, everything about it lowers, even humiliates the believer.
If you believe the Bible, then you accept that in your strongest moments, you are actually very weak. If you believe the Bible, then you accept that your most intelligent thoughts are actually quite foolish. If you believe the Bible, then you accept that your best effort to earn for yourself a safe place in the afterlife won’t get you anywhere. If you believe the Bible, then you accept the fact that you need God, and that you are lost on your own.
A right understanding and application of the truths of the Bible should always humble and lower us. These truths pour cold water on the fires of arrogance and superiority that tend to burn in our hearts. Christians who believe the Bible should be the most humble men and women on earth, because they know that this God is usually most appealing to the poor, the marginal, the weak, the helpless, the outsider, the reject, the good-for-nothing. Choosing to follow this God will place me right alongside of such people, and will help me to see, in case I hadn’t seen it already, that I am one of them.
Although that may sound depressing, it is actually incredibly liberating. Once I realize that I am nothing, I can make room for this God who is everything to come and fill my life from head to toe with His grace and power. And the joy and satisfaction that accompanies the life lived with a daily filling of this God’s grace and power is truly indescribable.
Unfortunately, there are many people out there who claim to be Christians, who claim to love God and His Word, who claim to follow Jesus, but whose lives show little or no evidence of the impact of the humbling, lowering truths of God’s Word. But I would like to suggest that those men and women who have been impacted by these truths, though they passionately proclaim the uniqueness of their God and Savior, are anything but arrogant.
In this most recent interaction, she brought up the Christian claim of “exclusivity”: the idea that salvation is found in no one but Jesus. Like the vast majority of postmodern thinkers, she finds this assertion to be disgustingly arrogant. And I must admit that, at first glance (as well as at second, third and fourth glance), the Christian belief that Christ is the “only way” to be reconciled to God smells like a superiority complex: we’ve got the truth . . . you don’t . . . so if you’ll just think like us, you’ll be alright.
Isn’t it contradictory for men and women who are called to lowliness and humility to accept a belief that fuels arrogance and superiority? Lowliness and superiority, humility and arrogance are mutually exclusive. And there is no question that belief in the uniqueness of Christ has fueled attitudes of arrogance and superiority in a substantial number of Western Christians. The stench of pride permeates much of what we hear from Christians on television, on the radio and on the internet: we’ve got it . . . you don’t . . . get with it!! And no place reeks more with the putrid odor of pride than the Christian blogosphere (if you don’t spend much time reading Christian blogs like mine, I recommend that you continue to keep your distance . . . it can honestly be a nauseating experience).
So what do we make of this dilemma? Does the ample evidence of arrogance in Christians suggest that there is something flawed in the doctrine of salvation by faith in Christ alone? I honestly don’t think that it does. Rather, I think that the arrogance that manifests itself in many of us is the result of a misunderstanding and misapplication of this precious truth. And unfortunately, our mistake makes it very difficult for the world around us to digest what it is that we have to offer.
And what do we have to offer? We offer the idea that there is a God who exists . . . a God who is there (as Francis Schaeffer puts it). This God has a personality, a character that is on certain levels knowable, and on other levels beyond comprehension. We believe that God has chosen to reveal His character, His nature to mankind through the wonders of His creation, as well as through written texts that we call scripture. These texts have been compiled in a book that we call the Bible. Through the Bible, we believe that God shows us not only who He is, but what He wants. He explains why He created us and what the purpose is behind our story.
Now, if I sat down and came up with my own concept of a deity, wrote a book about it, and submitted it to the world as the exclusive truth about the one and only God, this would undoubtedly be arrogant. But, if I am exposed to this book called the Bible, which was written by many different people in many different places over the course of many centuries and yet still presents a unified vision of a God who claims to love people like me and to want a relationship with them, a God who claims to have a purpose and goal for their lives . . . and if I choose to believe that what this book says is true and to live according to what it says rather than to live however I want, then this would be anything but arrogant. Foolish maybe, but not arrogant. Naïve perhaps, but not arrogant.
If I believe the Bible when it tells me that I am helpless to rescue myself from the flawed nature of this world and that I need God’s help in order to be saved, then this is anything but arrogant. If I believe the Bible when it tells me that God showed mankind His love by coming to earth in the form of a man and living among us, and dying on a cross to pay the penalty for our rebellion against Him, and rising again from the dead in order to defeat the power that sin and death once held over us, then this might border on insanity, but it is not arrogant.
When I tell others that God wants a relationship with them and that He has made a way for such a relationship to take place if they will only believe, this may be complete nonsense, but it is not arrogant. When I say that God invites all who trust in Him for salvation to spend eternity with Him, and that this invitation requires nothing of us but simple faith in His promise, this may be a pipe-dream, but it is not arrogant.
The point that I am trying to make is that the idea that there is one God who has expressed Himself to the world through one Book (though divine truths can be found all over the place), and who has chosen to save the world through one historic event, and who invites all of mankind to receive salvation by taking one simple step of faith may be entirely ludicrous, but it is not arrogant. Nothing about this belief elevates the individual who believes it. In fact, everything about it lowers, even humiliates the believer.
If you believe the Bible, then you accept that in your strongest moments, you are actually very weak. If you believe the Bible, then you accept that your most intelligent thoughts are actually quite foolish. If you believe the Bible, then you accept that your best effort to earn for yourself a safe place in the afterlife won’t get you anywhere. If you believe the Bible, then you accept the fact that you need God, and that you are lost on your own.
A right understanding and application of the truths of the Bible should always humble and lower us. These truths pour cold water on the fires of arrogance and superiority that tend to burn in our hearts. Christians who believe the Bible should be the most humble men and women on earth, because they know that this God is usually most appealing to the poor, the marginal, the weak, the helpless, the outsider, the reject, the good-for-nothing. Choosing to follow this God will place me right alongside of such people, and will help me to see, in case I hadn’t seen it already, that I am one of them.
Although that may sound depressing, it is actually incredibly liberating. Once I realize that I am nothing, I can make room for this God who is everything to come and fill my life from head to toe with His grace and power. And the joy and satisfaction that accompanies the life lived with a daily filling of this God’s grace and power is truly indescribable.
Unfortunately, there are many people out there who claim to be Christians, who claim to love God and His Word, who claim to follow Jesus, but whose lives show little or no evidence of the impact of the humbling, lowering truths of God’s Word. But I would like to suggest that those men and women who have been impacted by these truths, though they passionately proclaim the uniqueness of their God and Savior, are anything but arrogant.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
don't drink the water
Swimming in an ocean of visual temptation, I can’t help inhaling some water from time to time. The simple act of “breathing” as I swim opens the door for potentially poisonous “salt water” to enter my body. But, responding to the thirst that I sense mounting within me, should I open my mouth to drink deeply of this deadly water that surrounds me, I will find myself caught in a powerful whirlpool. The more I drink, the thirstier I get. And the thirstier I get, the more I drink until the excessive intake of salt floods my bloodstream and brings my life to a sudden end.
In an increasingly image-based and sex-driven culture, Christ-followers like me and you can’t help but be exposed to visual material that threatens our spiritual health. Unsurprisingly, when I have not been drinking deeply from the fresh Spring of Living Water, I am far more tempted to quench my soul thirst by opening my mouth wide and swallowing mouthfulls of this salty water that is so easily accessible.
Here in France, I am confronted by pictures of nearly nude people at every turn. It is honestly difficult for anyone but the blind to walk, bike or drive more than ten meters in the city without encountering bare bodies on display. So, each day as I leave my apartment building, even if it is only to walk 3 minutes to the bakery for bread, I am faced with a question: How much of the water am I going to drink? As I walk by that advertisement with the naked woman in the pharmacy window, will I drink deeply, or will I keep my mouth (read eyes) shut? As I pass the magazine stand with pornography on display, will I drink deeply, or will I keep my mouth shut? Should some new image that I’m not expecting catch me by surprise, will I drink deeply, or will I shut my mouth before any more salt water gets in?
I have found that the more free I am with my eyes as I make my way through the streets of Grenoble, the more bound I feel in my spirit. I have no reason to doubt the poisonous effects of this salt water on the state of my soul: I can sense them almost immediately when I give in to the temptation to drink.
Does this mean that I must walk around with a paranoia complex, afraid to look anywhere for fear that I might see something I shouldn’t? Not at all! As I mentioned above, inhaling some salt water from time to time is unavoidable simply by virtue of the fact that you need to breathe (read, you need to open your eyes to see where you are going). The question isn’t: Will I see anything that has the potential to tempt me to sin? The answer to that question is obvious: Of course I will! The real question is: How long am I going to leave my mouth open with my face in the water? How long am I going to let my eyes drink of each tempting image that they come across?
Summer time is upon us. And for men as well as women, this can be a season of spiritual slavery due to our culture’s preoccupation with sexy bodies and sexy clothes. We can be tempted to lust after a person. Or we can be tempted to lust after the sex-appeal that a person has (wishing we had the same). In either case, giving in to such temptation feeds our flesh and starves our spirit. Don’t understimate the poisonous effects of visual self-indulgence. And for God’s sake, don’t drink the water!
In an increasingly image-based and sex-driven culture, Christ-followers like me and you can’t help but be exposed to visual material that threatens our spiritual health. Unsurprisingly, when I have not been drinking deeply from the fresh Spring of Living Water, I am far more tempted to quench my soul thirst by opening my mouth wide and swallowing mouthfulls of this salty water that is so easily accessible.
Here in France, I am confronted by pictures of nearly nude people at every turn. It is honestly difficult for anyone but the blind to walk, bike or drive more than ten meters in the city without encountering bare bodies on display. So, each day as I leave my apartment building, even if it is only to walk 3 minutes to the bakery for bread, I am faced with a question: How much of the water am I going to drink? As I walk by that advertisement with the naked woman in the pharmacy window, will I drink deeply, or will I keep my mouth (read eyes) shut? As I pass the magazine stand with pornography on display, will I drink deeply, or will I keep my mouth shut? Should some new image that I’m not expecting catch me by surprise, will I drink deeply, or will I shut my mouth before any more salt water gets in?
I have found that the more free I am with my eyes as I make my way through the streets of Grenoble, the more bound I feel in my spirit. I have no reason to doubt the poisonous effects of this salt water on the state of my soul: I can sense them almost immediately when I give in to the temptation to drink.
Does this mean that I must walk around with a paranoia complex, afraid to look anywhere for fear that I might see something I shouldn’t? Not at all! As I mentioned above, inhaling some salt water from time to time is unavoidable simply by virtue of the fact that you need to breathe (read, you need to open your eyes to see where you are going). The question isn’t: Will I see anything that has the potential to tempt me to sin? The answer to that question is obvious: Of course I will! The real question is: How long am I going to leave my mouth open with my face in the water? How long am I going to let my eyes drink of each tempting image that they come across?
Summer time is upon us. And for men as well as women, this can be a season of spiritual slavery due to our culture’s preoccupation with sexy bodies and sexy clothes. We can be tempted to lust after a person. Or we can be tempted to lust after the sex-appeal that a person has (wishing we had the same). In either case, giving in to such temptation feeds our flesh and starves our spirit. Don’t understimate the poisonous effects of visual self-indulgence. And for God’s sake, don’t drink the water!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
chances are
Be gentle with the rude;
For chances are
Something painful sparked the mood.
Show kindness to the mean;
For chances are
Dark days are all they’ve seen.
And love the ones who hate;
For chances are
Their suffering has been great.
For if I see beyond the face
And read between the lines,
Then chances are I’ll give more grace
And see their sins are mine.
For chances are
Something painful sparked the mood.
Show kindness to the mean;
For chances are
Dark days are all they’ve seen.
And love the ones who hate;
For chances are
Their suffering has been great.
For if I see beyond the face
And read between the lines,
Then chances are I’ll give more grace
And see their sins are mine.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
yeah you!
I’m thinking about this speck in the eye again and its really bugging me. I’ve been studying the book of James with my wife and a couple of friends, and I was struck between the eyes (I’ve got a speck in one and a log in the other) by this statement in chapter 4:
“But you – who are you to judge your neighbor?”
I could see this big finger pointing right in my face . . . “yeah you!”
How easily I let myself off the hook on this judgment thing.
I don’t judge anybody . . . . . . . . “yeah right!”
I was on the phone a few nights ago with a friend who had been pretty angry with me over some comments I made last weekend. I had challenged him about some things in his life, and it didn’t go well. As we talked it through, I was still feeling justified in having confronted him, and was glad to hear that he was getting over his anger at me. But then, once again, I saw the finger and heard the words . . . “yeah you!”
What got me was when he said, “Nick, I wish you could come and spend just one day in my shoes.” Both he and I knew that it was impossible. But the statement resounded within me, like a gong that has just been struck with a big wooden hammer. I can’t spend a day or even a moment in his shoes. I don’t know what its like to be bipolar, or what its like to live with the unfortunate side-effects of mood stabilizing medication or anti-depressants. I have not lived through his life experiences, and am entirely unaware of the influence that they exercise over his thinking and his view of himself. I don’t interact with many of the people that he does, and am ignorant to the stresses and the joys that come from his relational network. I am clueless about the particular work that the Spirit of God is up to in his heart, and know very little about all the transforming work that has already taken place in him since he first believed in Christ for salvation.
BUT YOU – WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?!?!
Does this mean that there is no place for confronting one another in love? Not at all. We see much evidence of the biblical writers confronting people over sin, and even challenging professing believers to test themselves to see if they are in the faith. BUT! I am mindful of a passage that comes a bit earlier in James, chapter 2 verses 12 and 13, which says:
Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!
MERCY TRIUMPHS OVER JUDGEMENT! WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?
As I reflect on this striking statement, I am sobered by the realization that I engage in far more judgment that I would like to admit. Much of it will never escape my mouth, but it is there wallowing around in the mud-pits of my heart and mind. No doubt, it comes somewhat naturally to me and to most people, I would imagine. Often it can happen without any conscious mental effort on my part.
So what do I do about it? I need my Savior to come and bulldoze away the mud-pits so that judgmental thoughts have no place to wallow. I don’t want judgment to feel at home in my heart and mind. I want the Spirit of God to fill my heart with the fertile soil of His Word. I want the green pastures of God’s mercy to be widespread in my inner being, leaving no place for mud-loving creatures to settle down.
MERCY TRIUMPHS OVER JUDGEMENT!
. . . “yeah you!”
My God, I confess that I am prone to judgment. Forgive me for often forgetting that “there is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy.” Fill my heart and mind with your mercy, and may that mercy spill over into the lives of those who cross my path today. Amen.
“But you – who are you to judge your neighbor?”
I could see this big finger pointing right in my face . . . “yeah you!”
How easily I let myself off the hook on this judgment thing.
I don’t judge anybody . . . . . . . . “yeah right!”
I was on the phone a few nights ago with a friend who had been pretty angry with me over some comments I made last weekend. I had challenged him about some things in his life, and it didn’t go well. As we talked it through, I was still feeling justified in having confronted him, and was glad to hear that he was getting over his anger at me. But then, once again, I saw the finger and heard the words . . . “yeah you!”
What got me was when he said, “Nick, I wish you could come and spend just one day in my shoes.” Both he and I knew that it was impossible. But the statement resounded within me, like a gong that has just been struck with a big wooden hammer. I can’t spend a day or even a moment in his shoes. I don’t know what its like to be bipolar, or what its like to live with the unfortunate side-effects of mood stabilizing medication or anti-depressants. I have not lived through his life experiences, and am entirely unaware of the influence that they exercise over his thinking and his view of himself. I don’t interact with many of the people that he does, and am ignorant to the stresses and the joys that come from his relational network. I am clueless about the particular work that the Spirit of God is up to in his heart, and know very little about all the transforming work that has already taken place in him since he first believed in Christ for salvation.
BUT YOU – WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?!?!
Does this mean that there is no place for confronting one another in love? Not at all. We see much evidence of the biblical writers confronting people over sin, and even challenging professing believers to test themselves to see if they are in the faith. BUT! I am mindful of a passage that comes a bit earlier in James, chapter 2 verses 12 and 13, which says:
Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!
MERCY TRIUMPHS OVER JUDGEMENT! WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?
As I reflect on this striking statement, I am sobered by the realization that I engage in far more judgment that I would like to admit. Much of it will never escape my mouth, but it is there wallowing around in the mud-pits of my heart and mind. No doubt, it comes somewhat naturally to me and to most people, I would imagine. Often it can happen without any conscious mental effort on my part.
So what do I do about it? I need my Savior to come and bulldoze away the mud-pits so that judgmental thoughts have no place to wallow. I don’t want judgment to feel at home in my heart and mind. I want the Spirit of God to fill my heart with the fertile soil of His Word. I want the green pastures of God’s mercy to be widespread in my inner being, leaving no place for mud-loving creatures to settle down.
MERCY TRIUMPHS OVER JUDGEMENT!
. . . “yeah you!”
My God, I confess that I am prone to judgment. Forgive me for often forgetting that “there is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy.” Fill my heart and mind with your mercy, and may that mercy spill over into the lives of those who cross my path today. Amen.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
riding with Don Quixoté
Sometimes I feel like Sancho Panza, the mule-riding sidekick who serves as squire for the legendary Don Quixoté. For those who don’t know the story, Don Quixoté is the main character in a novel (written by Miguel de Cervantes) considered by many to be among the greatest works of Spanish literature in history. Don Quixoté is the fictional name taken on by a middle-aged gentleman from central Spain who, having become addicted to books about chivalry (knights in shining armor rescuing princesses who have been captured by dragons, and so on), decides to become a knight and ride around the country doing good and opposing evil. Sancho Panza is the ignorant peasant who agrees to go with him.
Quixoté and Panza end up trying to rescue people who are not in danger, mistakenly helping others who are bent on doing harm, and generally making complete fools of themselves. In perhaps the most famous scene of the novel, Don Quixoté becomes convinced that a cluster of windmills is actually a group of giants. He valiantly takes up his lance and attacks the unsuspecting windmills, hence the phrase, “tilting at windmills”(which means attacking imaginary enemies).
Poor Sancho Panza often finds himself oscillating back and forth between the “real” world, and the fictitious and fantastical world that emerges from Quixotés imagination. The story ends tragically with Quixoté returning home in complete disillusionment, with Panza desperately trying to keep the imaginary journey alive.
If I’m honest, I must admit that sometimes I feel like Sancho Panza. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in an imaginary world, engaging in absurd activities that have no significance other than that which emerges from my Master’s fancy (or worse yet, my own). I can feel like I’m following a lunatic (not a liar and not the Lord), with no idea of where I’m going or what will happen when I get there. Sometimes I can’t help but ask this Knight that I follow, “What planet are you on? What in the world are you thinking?” Sometimes I feel like I have followed a fool into a meaningless adventure, and that the real world is simply laughing at me as it passes me by.
A French author and philosopher named Albert Camus wrote extensively on what he called “the philosophy of the absurd.” He wrestled with the apparent “meaninglessness” and undeniable contradictions of life, while at the same time searching for some meaning that serves as a motivation to go on living. I have had to read several books by Camus as part of my French coursework, and I have been impacted by his portrayal of life’s absurdities. The truth is that our world, for all of its logic and order, is filled with apparent contradictions, with opposing realities that don’t make much sense. And there is reason to be really depressed, as was Camus (and as are most philosphers) for much of his life.
But in light of this absurdity that I can observe all around me and, at times, even in me, I find it fascinating that the Son of God didn’t come and straighten it all out. Instead, he himself entered into the absurdity, into the complete folly of this world; living a life that didn’t make any sense at all at the time when he lived it. I’m sure that the disciples could have found themselves relating to Sancho Panza as well, had they had opportunity to read the novel. Jesus often said and did things that probably seemed insane. Following him around must have felt like utter lunacy at times. And I’m sure that these men were regularly faced with the question: Is this real, or are we on a wild goose chase?
Perhaps surprisingly, I’m finding that the more I’m exposed to the absurdities of this world, particularly in the context of people’s lives, the more Jesus starts to make sense. Hanging out with my engineer neighbor, with his lovely wife and three kids, who lacks for nothing and is very pleased with the general course of his life, I find myself squirming to make sense of the claims of Christ as they apply to him. But sitting in the car across from a nearly homeless man in his mid-60s, who describes his life as “hell,” and who is trying to make sense of the downward spiral that he’s been in ever since the untimely death of his wife, I’m strangely comforted by the blatant folly of the Christian faith. A homeless Jesus who wandered the countryside with a rag-tag bunch of otherwise insignificant men and women, opposing the proud and giving grace to the humble, has something to offer this desperate friend.
Does that mean that Jesus is irrelevant for the rich and happy? Yes and no. The book of James tells us that God has chosen the poor to be rich in faith. Jesus suggested on numerous occasions that, in His kingdom, the poor and lowly (the have nots) are blessed while the rich and satisfied (the haves) are often excluded. But, when they encounter Jesus, the “haves” are often faced with an option. They can humbly hop on their mule and follow Jesus into the foolish way of faith. Or, they can proudly reject his way in preference for the apparent logic, order and sanity of the “real” world. Unfortunately, there are few from this category of people who are willing to exchange their worldly sanity for Christ’s absurdity. And, although the United States has succeeded in creating a very orderly and “sane” branch of Christianity where the “haves” can feel at home, this bares little resemblance to the scandalous, confusing, and insanely self-sacrificing road that Christ described as the “narrow way.”
In the end, I’ve got it way better than Sancho Panza. The wisdom of my Master’s foolish way proves itself again and again in my daily life. And although at times His apparent insanity can be confusing and disconcerting, I am finding that His promises are consistently true, and that His grace is sufficient for me.
In the face of what seems like folly, my Lord, when I’m tempted to turn away, give me grace to join the apostle Peter in saying: Where else can I go? You have the words of life.
Quixoté and Panza end up trying to rescue people who are not in danger, mistakenly helping others who are bent on doing harm, and generally making complete fools of themselves. In perhaps the most famous scene of the novel, Don Quixoté becomes convinced that a cluster of windmills is actually a group of giants. He valiantly takes up his lance and attacks the unsuspecting windmills, hence the phrase, “tilting at windmills”(which means attacking imaginary enemies).
Poor Sancho Panza often finds himself oscillating back and forth between the “real” world, and the fictitious and fantastical world that emerges from Quixotés imagination. The story ends tragically with Quixoté returning home in complete disillusionment, with Panza desperately trying to keep the imaginary journey alive.
If I’m honest, I must admit that sometimes I feel like Sancho Panza. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in an imaginary world, engaging in absurd activities that have no significance other than that which emerges from my Master’s fancy (or worse yet, my own). I can feel like I’m following a lunatic (not a liar and not the Lord), with no idea of where I’m going or what will happen when I get there. Sometimes I can’t help but ask this Knight that I follow, “What planet are you on? What in the world are you thinking?” Sometimes I feel like I have followed a fool into a meaningless adventure, and that the real world is simply laughing at me as it passes me by.
A French author and philosopher named Albert Camus wrote extensively on what he called “the philosophy of the absurd.” He wrestled with the apparent “meaninglessness” and undeniable contradictions of life, while at the same time searching for some meaning that serves as a motivation to go on living. I have had to read several books by Camus as part of my French coursework, and I have been impacted by his portrayal of life’s absurdities. The truth is that our world, for all of its logic and order, is filled with apparent contradictions, with opposing realities that don’t make much sense. And there is reason to be really depressed, as was Camus (and as are most philosphers) for much of his life.
But in light of this absurdity that I can observe all around me and, at times, even in me, I find it fascinating that the Son of God didn’t come and straighten it all out. Instead, he himself entered into the absurdity, into the complete folly of this world; living a life that didn’t make any sense at all at the time when he lived it. I’m sure that the disciples could have found themselves relating to Sancho Panza as well, had they had opportunity to read the novel. Jesus often said and did things that probably seemed insane. Following him around must have felt like utter lunacy at times. And I’m sure that these men were regularly faced with the question: Is this real, or are we on a wild goose chase?
Perhaps surprisingly, I’m finding that the more I’m exposed to the absurdities of this world, particularly in the context of people’s lives, the more Jesus starts to make sense. Hanging out with my engineer neighbor, with his lovely wife and three kids, who lacks for nothing and is very pleased with the general course of his life, I find myself squirming to make sense of the claims of Christ as they apply to him. But sitting in the car across from a nearly homeless man in his mid-60s, who describes his life as “hell,” and who is trying to make sense of the downward spiral that he’s been in ever since the untimely death of his wife, I’m strangely comforted by the blatant folly of the Christian faith. A homeless Jesus who wandered the countryside with a rag-tag bunch of otherwise insignificant men and women, opposing the proud and giving grace to the humble, has something to offer this desperate friend.
Does that mean that Jesus is irrelevant for the rich and happy? Yes and no. The book of James tells us that God has chosen the poor to be rich in faith. Jesus suggested on numerous occasions that, in His kingdom, the poor and lowly (the have nots) are blessed while the rich and satisfied (the haves) are often excluded. But, when they encounter Jesus, the “haves” are often faced with an option. They can humbly hop on their mule and follow Jesus into the foolish way of faith. Or, they can proudly reject his way in preference for the apparent logic, order and sanity of the “real” world. Unfortunately, there are few from this category of people who are willing to exchange their worldly sanity for Christ’s absurdity. And, although the United States has succeeded in creating a very orderly and “sane” branch of Christianity where the “haves” can feel at home, this bares little resemblance to the scandalous, confusing, and insanely self-sacrificing road that Christ described as the “narrow way.”
In the end, I’ve got it way better than Sancho Panza. The wisdom of my Master’s foolish way proves itself again and again in my daily life. And although at times His apparent insanity can be confusing and disconcerting, I am finding that His promises are consistently true, and that His grace is sufficient for me.
In the face of what seems like folly, my Lord, when I’m tempted to turn away, give me grace to join the apostle Peter in saying: Where else can I go? You have the words of life.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
get lost!
I am finding that the more consumed I am with myself, the more depressed I become. How does my auto-preoccupation manifest itself? Probably in many of the same ways yours does: uncertainties about what others think of ME, concerns about MY physical inadequacies, worries about MY future, comparisons with others who are superior to ME in some aspect of their life. Yuck! It makes me nauseous to think about how much I think about MYSELF!!
But even as I reach for the Pepto-Bismol, I have to pause and ask myself why this kind of ego-centrism makes me want to vomit. Afterall, isn’t life about self-gratification? Why wouldn’t it make me happy to do whatever makes me happy? If the advertisers and media gurus of this age have any wisdom to offer me at all, I should be thinking MORE about my own needs and desires, not LESS! I need to FIND myself, to figure out who I really am and what makes me tick so that I can be of some VALUE to this world.
Not surprisingly, the words of Jesus don’t fit well with a world characterized by auto-preoccupation. In the gospel of Mark, chapter 8, he scandalously calls his followers to a life characterized by auto-amnesia:
If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?
The key, according to Jesus, is to forget about yourself. Stop caring about what others think. Stop fretting about your appearance. Stop worrying about your future. Stop comparing yourself to others. The problem is that this is way easier said than done. Auto-preoccupation is entirely natural and highly encouraged in my neighborhood. Auto-amnesia is just plain extra-terrestrial. Who lives that way? Who thinks that way? What planet does Jesus think we’re on?
Back to the Pepto-Bismol. As normal as it may be, there is something sickening about ego-centrism. If we are honest with ourselves, the vast majority of us must admit that we suffer from the disease chronically. And if things are out of whack with us emotionally, pyschologically and maybe even physically, the Bible would seem to say: well duh! You weren’t meant to live with yourself at the center of your life!
So, if we buy into Jesus’ scandalous idea that denying self rather than indulging self, forgetting self rather than concentrating on self, losing self rather than trying with all our might to find self actually leads us to what we have been yearning for all along, how do we make the shift? How do we take up our cross and follow?
Having worked my way up to this crescendo, I want to apologize for the fact that I don’t have any easy aswers to the question. I feel like I am only beginning to see evidences of a shift from auto-preoccupation to auto-amnesia in my life. But, I can pass on a few beginner tricks that I’ve picked up so far.
First, I find that the more time I spend being occupied with the Lord in His Word and in prayer, the less occupied I am with myself through the course of the day. Nothing too earth-shattering there. The challenge, as we all know, is DOING IT!!
Second, I find that the more I look out for and celebrate the God-given qualities that can be observed in others (believers and unbelievers), the less I compare myself in unhealthy and self-centered ways to others.
Third, I find that the less I talk to others about my future plans and projects, and the more I entrust my next steps to the Lord in prayer, the less concerned I am about my future.
Fourth, I find that the more time I spend with people who don’t have very much, the more satisfied I am with what I have, and the less interested I am in having EVERYTHING that my next-door-neighbor has.
I imagine that some of you have found tricks that help you to “get lost” as well. I’d love for you to post them as comments to this blog so that we can all benefit from the wisdom that you have found.
But even as I reach for the Pepto-Bismol, I have to pause and ask myself why this kind of ego-centrism makes me want to vomit. Afterall, isn’t life about self-gratification? Why wouldn’t it make me happy to do whatever makes me happy? If the advertisers and media gurus of this age have any wisdom to offer me at all, I should be thinking MORE about my own needs and desires, not LESS! I need to FIND myself, to figure out who I really am and what makes me tick so that I can be of some VALUE to this world.
Not surprisingly, the words of Jesus don’t fit well with a world characterized by auto-preoccupation. In the gospel of Mark, chapter 8, he scandalously calls his followers to a life characterized by auto-amnesia:
If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?
The key, according to Jesus, is to forget about yourself. Stop caring about what others think. Stop fretting about your appearance. Stop worrying about your future. Stop comparing yourself to others. The problem is that this is way easier said than done. Auto-preoccupation is entirely natural and highly encouraged in my neighborhood. Auto-amnesia is just plain extra-terrestrial. Who lives that way? Who thinks that way? What planet does Jesus think we’re on?
Back to the Pepto-Bismol. As normal as it may be, there is something sickening about ego-centrism. If we are honest with ourselves, the vast majority of us must admit that we suffer from the disease chronically. And if things are out of whack with us emotionally, pyschologically and maybe even physically, the Bible would seem to say: well duh! You weren’t meant to live with yourself at the center of your life!
So, if we buy into Jesus’ scandalous idea that denying self rather than indulging self, forgetting self rather than concentrating on self, losing self rather than trying with all our might to find self actually leads us to what we have been yearning for all along, how do we make the shift? How do we take up our cross and follow?
Having worked my way up to this crescendo, I want to apologize for the fact that I don’t have any easy aswers to the question. I feel like I am only beginning to see evidences of a shift from auto-preoccupation to auto-amnesia in my life. But, I can pass on a few beginner tricks that I’ve picked up so far.
First, I find that the more time I spend being occupied with the Lord in His Word and in prayer, the less occupied I am with myself through the course of the day. Nothing too earth-shattering there. The challenge, as we all know, is DOING IT!!
Second, I find that the more I look out for and celebrate the God-given qualities that can be observed in others (believers and unbelievers), the less I compare myself in unhealthy and self-centered ways to others.
Third, I find that the less I talk to others about my future plans and projects, and the more I entrust my next steps to the Lord in prayer, the less concerned I am about my future.
Fourth, I find that the more time I spend with people who don’t have very much, the more satisfied I am with what I have, and the less interested I am in having EVERYTHING that my next-door-neighbor has.
I imagine that some of you have found tricks that help you to “get lost” as well. I’d love for you to post them as comments to this blog so that we can all benefit from the wisdom that you have found.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
grape juice in the gas tank
Although I know that what goes into my body, whether through my eyes or my ears or my mouth, exercises influence over my spiritual condition, I struggle sometimes to live as if I really believed that this were the case. What does that mean?
Let me start unpacking that statement by referring to Galatians 5:16 and 17, which says, “walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other to keep you from doing the things you want to do.” What is the evidence, then, that I am walking by the Spirit? The response to this question comes several verses later: I bear spiritual fruit. So, if I am not bearing fruit, I must ask myself what is wrong. Chances are good that I am living according to the flesh, which means that I am allowing myself to be controlled by my sinful passions and desires.
Self-control is the last fruit to appear on the list of spiritual fruit in Galatians 5:22-23, which is unfortunate because I think it can often take a back seat to other more prominent fruit like love, joy and peace. The reality is that, without self-control, I will find myself exercising very little spiritual authority; living a life with very little spiritual impact. If I am unable to control my fleshly desires, I will continually live according to the flesh rather than according to the Spirit. And a literal reading of Galatians 5:21 would suggest that, if I continue to live this way, I may not be in Christ.
So what does this look like in real life? Every day I am hungry; not just gastronomically but also spiritually, intellectually, emotionally and, yes, sexually. A variety of desires and urges jockey for position within me, crying out to be fed. It makes me think of a group of hungry piglets fighting to get to their mother’s teat. And the question that I am faced with is this: which desires do I feed and what do I feed them?
My response to this question will make the difference between a life lived in the Spirit and a life lived in the flesh today. It will also make the difference between a fruitful life and a fruitless life today. I might go one step further and say that it will make the difference between a genuinely joyful life and a regrettably joyless life today.
Three stumbling blocks among hundreds, if not thousands, manifest themselves quite regularly: the refrigerator, the television, and the internet. Each of these three pose powerful and dangerous threats to my spirit-life. Without daily access to a grace-based, Spirit-empowered self-control, I will turn to one or more of these objects to satisfy one or more of the fleshly cravings that grumble within me. Without daily access to this same self-control (or self-discipline) rooted in God’s grace and power, the hungry spirit within me will go unfed and will therefore be ineffective and unproductive in the spiritual realm.
Imagine that I decided to pour gallons of Welch’s White Grape Juice into the gas tank of my car rather than diesel fuel (most cars in France are diesel). The juice is clearer in color than the diesel fuel, it smells better and it tastes better, not to mention that it costs less. From a purely sensual and financial standpoint, the grape juice is a way better choice than the diesel fuel. The obvious problem is that the engine of my car won’t function on grape juice. It needs diesel fuel if I hope to get anywhere in it.
In light of this, shame on me for pouring the grape juice of excessive and unhealthy eating into my spiritual engine. Shame on me for pouring the grape juice of wasted time reading political news reports from the internet into my spiritual engine (I have become somewhat of a political junky since my departure from the US and I need deliverance). Shame on some of you for pouring the grape juice of mind-numbing and morally questionable television shows or movies or literature into your spiritual engines. Shame on some of you for pouring the grape juice of perverse internet material into your spiritual engines. Shame on all of us for trying to nurture ourselves on any fluid that simply satisfies the flesh while starving the spirit that our heavenly Father graciously brought to life within us.
Our spirits, the engines of our souls, must have the spiritual diesel fuel of God’s Word, extended periods of prayer, Spirit-filled fellowship with other believers, spontaneous expressions of thankfulness and praise, and good works of kindness and mercy toward others who are in need (among a host of other spiritually nurturing activities) in order for us to live spiritually fruitful lives that impact those around us to the glory of our Lord Jesus.
May God give us grace to abandon the cheap grape juice in exchange for the costly diesel fuel that we desperately need every day of our lives.
Let me start unpacking that statement by referring to Galatians 5:16 and 17, which says, “walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other to keep you from doing the things you want to do.” What is the evidence, then, that I am walking by the Spirit? The response to this question comes several verses later: I bear spiritual fruit. So, if I am not bearing fruit, I must ask myself what is wrong. Chances are good that I am living according to the flesh, which means that I am allowing myself to be controlled by my sinful passions and desires.
Self-control is the last fruit to appear on the list of spiritual fruit in Galatians 5:22-23, which is unfortunate because I think it can often take a back seat to other more prominent fruit like love, joy and peace. The reality is that, without self-control, I will find myself exercising very little spiritual authority; living a life with very little spiritual impact. If I am unable to control my fleshly desires, I will continually live according to the flesh rather than according to the Spirit. And a literal reading of Galatians 5:21 would suggest that, if I continue to live this way, I may not be in Christ.
So what does this look like in real life? Every day I am hungry; not just gastronomically but also spiritually, intellectually, emotionally and, yes, sexually. A variety of desires and urges jockey for position within me, crying out to be fed. It makes me think of a group of hungry piglets fighting to get to their mother’s teat. And the question that I am faced with is this: which desires do I feed and what do I feed them?
My response to this question will make the difference between a life lived in the Spirit and a life lived in the flesh today. It will also make the difference between a fruitful life and a fruitless life today. I might go one step further and say that it will make the difference between a genuinely joyful life and a regrettably joyless life today.
Three stumbling blocks among hundreds, if not thousands, manifest themselves quite regularly: the refrigerator, the television, and the internet. Each of these three pose powerful and dangerous threats to my spirit-life. Without daily access to a grace-based, Spirit-empowered self-control, I will turn to one or more of these objects to satisfy one or more of the fleshly cravings that grumble within me. Without daily access to this same self-control (or self-discipline) rooted in God’s grace and power, the hungry spirit within me will go unfed and will therefore be ineffective and unproductive in the spiritual realm.
Imagine that I decided to pour gallons of Welch’s White Grape Juice into the gas tank of my car rather than diesel fuel (most cars in France are diesel). The juice is clearer in color than the diesel fuel, it smells better and it tastes better, not to mention that it costs less. From a purely sensual and financial standpoint, the grape juice is a way better choice than the diesel fuel. The obvious problem is that the engine of my car won’t function on grape juice. It needs diesel fuel if I hope to get anywhere in it.
In light of this, shame on me for pouring the grape juice of excessive and unhealthy eating into my spiritual engine. Shame on me for pouring the grape juice of wasted time reading political news reports from the internet into my spiritual engine (I have become somewhat of a political junky since my departure from the US and I need deliverance). Shame on some of you for pouring the grape juice of mind-numbing and morally questionable television shows or movies or literature into your spiritual engines. Shame on some of you for pouring the grape juice of perverse internet material into your spiritual engines. Shame on all of us for trying to nurture ourselves on any fluid that simply satisfies the flesh while starving the spirit that our heavenly Father graciously brought to life within us.
Our spirits, the engines of our souls, must have the spiritual diesel fuel of God’s Word, extended periods of prayer, Spirit-filled fellowship with other believers, spontaneous expressions of thankfulness and praise, and good works of kindness and mercy toward others who are in need (among a host of other spiritually nurturing activities) in order for us to live spiritually fruitful lives that impact those around us to the glory of our Lord Jesus.
May God give us grace to abandon the cheap grape juice in exchange for the costly diesel fuel that we desperately need every day of our lives.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
umerited, conditional grace
The following is a selection of verses from Psalm 25 that I came across in John Piper's devotional book, A Godward Life (the words in italics are references to God's gracious help and the words in bold are conditions for receiving this grace):
Good and upright is the LORD;
Therefore He instructs sinners in the way.
He leads the humble in justice,
And He teaches the humble His way.
All the paths of the LORD are lovingkindness and truth
To those who keep His covenant and His testimonies.
For your name’s sake, O LORD,
Pardon my iniquity, for it is great.
Who is the man who fears the Lord?
He will instruct him in the way he should choose . . .
Turn to me and be gracious to me.
For I am lonely and afflicted . . .
Look upon my affliction and my trouble,
And forgive all my sins . . .
Guard my soul and deliver me;
Do not let me be ashamed, for I take refuge in You.
Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
For I wait for you.
In his meditation on this selection of verses from Psalm 25, John Piper points out that “all the forgiveness and help of God are gracious and unmerited . . . but they are not all unconditional.” The text speaks of God’s lovingkindness, His instruction, and His protection. But it makes it clear that these helps are given to “sinners” who keep His covenant, who walk in integrity and uprightness, who wait for the Lord, who take refuge in Him, who fear Him, and who are humble before Him.
So, as I seek the Lord for His blessing, I must also seek Him for grace to live the kind of life that He loves to bless.
Good and upright is the LORD;
Therefore He instructs sinners in the way.
He leads the humble in justice,
And He teaches the humble His way.
All the paths of the LORD are lovingkindness and truth
To those who keep His covenant and His testimonies.
For your name’s sake, O LORD,
Pardon my iniquity, for it is great.
Who is the man who fears the Lord?
He will instruct him in the way he should choose . . .
Turn to me and be gracious to me.
For I am lonely and afflicted . . .
Look upon my affliction and my trouble,
And forgive all my sins . . .
Guard my soul and deliver me;
Do not let me be ashamed, for I take refuge in You.
Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
For I wait for you.
In his meditation on this selection of verses from Psalm 25, John Piper points out that “all the forgiveness and help of God are gracious and unmerited . . . but they are not all unconditional.” The text speaks of God’s lovingkindness, His instruction, and His protection. But it makes it clear that these helps are given to “sinners” who keep His covenant, who walk in integrity and uprightness, who wait for the Lord, who take refuge in Him, who fear Him, and who are humble before Him.
So, as I seek the Lord for His blessing, I must also seek Him for grace to live the kind of life that He loves to bless.
Monday, January 28, 2008
the fight to forgive
Sometimes forgiveness can be a real fight. It is especially hard when the person who has wounded me either doesn’t recognize what they have done, or sees no need to seek forgiveness for it. But, even when the offender does ask for forgiveness, at times I find that it is not easy to genuinely grant it. Why is this? If a person has wronged me and then they look to make it right, why wouldn’t I simply be glad for the opportunity to forgive and move on?
One reason is that, deep down inside, as much as I may want to be restored to right relationship with the person who has hurt me, I also want justice. If I am honest, I must admit that part of the struggle to forgive is that it seems to circumvent the process of payback. You hurt me, and therefore, I want to hurt you back. I want you to feel the pain that I have felt. I want you to recognize how wrong you were in doing what you did or in saying what you said. I want the freedom to use words as my weapons of punishment, with the hope that the verbal lashing I give you will somehow satisfy my craving for justice.
It is amazing how many times I have found myself sliding into “payback”mode even after I have already said to a person, “I forgive you.” Sometimes within the same sentence I can do so. “I forgive you, even if I still have no idea how a nice person like you could have ever said something like that.” Such a sentence would suggest that I have lost the fight to forgive. I may have spoken the words, but I have come nowhere near embracing an attitude of forgiveness. I still want the debt to be repaid.
The rub with forgiveness is that, in order to truly forgive, I have to be willing to absorb in myself the pain of the offense. I must be willing to drop whatever right I feel that I have to repayment or revenge. I must accept the fact that I will never make this person understand what they really did to me, how deeply they hurt me, or how much they disappointed me. When portrayed in this way, forgiveness seems completely illogical; it seems to border on masochism. Why must I suffer while the “criminal” goes free? What pleasure is there for me in that? What benefit is there for me in that?
If it weren’t for the cross of Christ, I would be left with no basis for believing that there was any benefit or pleasure at all to be derived from forgiveness. But Jesus’ death teaches me something extraordinary. Hebrews 12 says that it was “for the joy set before him” that Jesus endured the cross. The cross is the ultimate example of someone absorbing within himself the crimes of another. The debt we owe the Lord could never be repaid, and he knew it. So, he extended forgiveness by way of the cross. This would seem like utter folly if the Bible didn’t clearly make an essential point: that it was this very act of absorbing the offense of his enemy that resulted in his victory, his glory, and his joy. And, I must add, it resulted in my (the offender's) deliverance and spiritual freedom.
Now, as a follower of Christ and child of God, I am invited to follow him as he leads me into victory, glory and joy. As it turns out, one of the great potential barriers to me in walking this path is the barrier of unforgiveness. I am occasionally faced with a difficult question: will I absorb the sin of another against me, fighting (if necessary) to arrive at a place of genuine forgiveness that seeks no repayment for the wrong committed? Or, will I reject the model of Christ, looking instead to the model of the world which suggests that I am better off getting my revenge (whether subtle or overt) whenever and however I can?
As hard as it may be for me to put into practice at times like now when I am faced with my own unwillingness to forgive someone who has wronged me, I am convinced that Jesus is right. I am convinced that his way is the best. I am convinced that my victory, glory and joy are rooted not in exacting repayment for debts, but in forgiving them. I am convinced that my decision to forgive has the potential to bring deliverance and spiritual freedom to my offender.
Lord, give me grace that I might fight the fight of forgiveness. Help me to put into action that which I have become convinced of in my heart. When the moment of decision comes, when I finally stand face to face with the one who hurt me, and the wrong is addressed (if ever that moment does come), empower me to extend grace and forgiveness and nothing more. And help me to do this regardless of how satisfied or unsatisfied I am with the offender’s words and attitude toward me. May my choice to forgive open the door for their delivrance and spiritual freedom. I pray this in the name of my Forgiver, Amen.
One reason is that, deep down inside, as much as I may want to be restored to right relationship with the person who has hurt me, I also want justice. If I am honest, I must admit that part of the struggle to forgive is that it seems to circumvent the process of payback. You hurt me, and therefore, I want to hurt you back. I want you to feel the pain that I have felt. I want you to recognize how wrong you were in doing what you did or in saying what you said. I want the freedom to use words as my weapons of punishment, with the hope that the verbal lashing I give you will somehow satisfy my craving for justice.
It is amazing how many times I have found myself sliding into “payback”mode even after I have already said to a person, “I forgive you.” Sometimes within the same sentence I can do so. “I forgive you, even if I still have no idea how a nice person like you could have ever said something like that.” Such a sentence would suggest that I have lost the fight to forgive. I may have spoken the words, but I have come nowhere near embracing an attitude of forgiveness. I still want the debt to be repaid.
The rub with forgiveness is that, in order to truly forgive, I have to be willing to absorb in myself the pain of the offense. I must be willing to drop whatever right I feel that I have to repayment or revenge. I must accept the fact that I will never make this person understand what they really did to me, how deeply they hurt me, or how much they disappointed me. When portrayed in this way, forgiveness seems completely illogical; it seems to border on masochism. Why must I suffer while the “criminal” goes free? What pleasure is there for me in that? What benefit is there for me in that?
If it weren’t for the cross of Christ, I would be left with no basis for believing that there was any benefit or pleasure at all to be derived from forgiveness. But Jesus’ death teaches me something extraordinary. Hebrews 12 says that it was “for the joy set before him” that Jesus endured the cross. The cross is the ultimate example of someone absorbing within himself the crimes of another. The debt we owe the Lord could never be repaid, and he knew it. So, he extended forgiveness by way of the cross. This would seem like utter folly if the Bible didn’t clearly make an essential point: that it was this very act of absorbing the offense of his enemy that resulted in his victory, his glory, and his joy. And, I must add, it resulted in my (the offender's) deliverance and spiritual freedom.
Now, as a follower of Christ and child of God, I am invited to follow him as he leads me into victory, glory and joy. As it turns out, one of the great potential barriers to me in walking this path is the barrier of unforgiveness. I am occasionally faced with a difficult question: will I absorb the sin of another against me, fighting (if necessary) to arrive at a place of genuine forgiveness that seeks no repayment for the wrong committed? Or, will I reject the model of Christ, looking instead to the model of the world which suggests that I am better off getting my revenge (whether subtle or overt) whenever and however I can?
As hard as it may be for me to put into practice at times like now when I am faced with my own unwillingness to forgive someone who has wronged me, I am convinced that Jesus is right. I am convinced that his way is the best. I am convinced that my victory, glory and joy are rooted not in exacting repayment for debts, but in forgiving them. I am convinced that my decision to forgive has the potential to bring deliverance and spiritual freedom to my offender.
Lord, give me grace that I might fight the fight of forgiveness. Help me to put into action that which I have become convinced of in my heart. When the moment of decision comes, when I finally stand face to face with the one who hurt me, and the wrong is addressed (if ever that moment does come), empower me to extend grace and forgiveness and nothing more. And help me to do this regardless of how satisfied or unsatisfied I am with the offender’s words and attitude toward me. May my choice to forgive open the door for their delivrance and spiritual freedom. I pray this in the name of my Forgiver, Amen.
Monday, January 21, 2008
pigs and pearls
Pigs are creatures that eat trash and wallow in mud.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
this evil day
Several weeks before the New Year, I started asking the Lord for a passage of Scripture to pray over myself in the coming year. In 2007, the verse was James 1: 19, “Know this my brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.” And over the course of the year, I saw the Lord targeting issues of anger in my life, as well as shedding light on my tendency to talk too much and to listen too little.
So once again, I asked the Lord to give me a glimpse of the refining work He wanted to do in me so that I could pray along with Him. Almost immediately a passage came to mind, and it stayed on my mind right up through the New Year. It is Ephesians 5:15-16, “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.” The key phrase that rings in my head almost daily is, “making the best use of the time . . . making the best use of the time.”
One thing that strikes me about this text is that it does not say, “making the best use of MY time.” I have been sobered over the past few weeks at how selfishly I handle THE time that has been given to me, as if it was MY time. The Lord has been gently reminding me that THE time belongs to Him; and that has implications for the way I go about the day, and the week, and the year.
I’m reminded of a passage earlier in Ephesians that says, “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” If I view THE time through the lens of lowliness, I realize that even before I was born, my Lord knew what He wanted to accomplish in and through me today. The day is not a blank slate waiting to be written on. The question is never, “What should I do today?” Rather, the day is a beautiful piece of poetry already composed for me by the Lover of my soul. The question is always, “What joyous work are you doing today, my Lord, that you invite me to join you in?”
As compelling as that image may be, I see two hindrances when it comes to putting it into practice. One is that I’m not sure I’m convinced that the Lord has specific works that He invites me to join Him in today. The second is that, even if He did, I’m not sure that He will show me what they are.
In light of this, I often find it easier to throw myself into the day, engaging in all kinds of activities in the hope that something will bear some fruit; that something will benefit the kingdom of God. But I’m caught up short when I read verse 17 of Ephesians 5, which says, “Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.”
Ah. What a fool I can be, running around like a bunch of squirrels in December (see previous blog entry if that image makes no sense to you). Again, what a fool I can be! Thinking that I am making the best use of the time, I actually waste all kinds of time and energy giving myself to activities and endeavors that may have no connection whatsoever to the will of God for me today. “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise . . . understand what the Lord’s will is.” But how do I do that?!?!
James chapter 1 is written to people who find themselves lost in the midst of trials. Chances are good that they have no idea what to do or where to turn. Why is this happening? Where is God in this? James encourages them to ask the Lord for wisdom: “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given to him.”
Although I am not fully convinced of it yet, I am starting to believe that the Lord invites me daily to come to Him for wisdom in making the best use of the time. I’m starting to believe that it is impossible for me to make the best use of the time unless I wait daily on the Lord for wisdom.
And, I’m starting to believe that it is a sign of true humility for me, not to simply dive into my day with no idea of where I’m going or what I’m doing; but rather, to quietly come before my Lord and ask Him to shine His light into the darkness of this evil day. Without the light of His wisdom guiding my steps, I will most certainly be swallowed by the evil day rather than walk victoriously through it.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
the oak and the squirrel
This morning I was thinking about a big oak tree that grew in the back yard of our old house in Michigan City, Indiana. Every Fall, this tree showered our yard, our neighbor’s yard, and the alley next to our house with acorns. A sizeable community of squirrels were the beneficiaries of this abundant harvest each year.
Today, I imagined that oak tree when she was just a young sapling. Not too many branches; not too many leaves; no acorns. I could hear the squirrels badgering her as they raced to and fro around her undeveloped trunk, preparing frantically for the long winter: “Don’t just stand there . . . do something! Winter is coming. You’re going to starve. You’ll never get anywhere like that. What are you waiting for?”
And then my mind shifts to another scene from the book of 2 Chronicles. A large army is bearing down on the small nation of Judah. King Jehoshaphat knows that the situation is hopeless. He calls the people of Judah together to seek the Lord, praying this prayer: “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” Then, the text says that all of Judah just stood there before the Lord with their little ones, their wives, and their children. They just stood there. I can hear the grumbling from the “squirrels” in the ranks: “Don’t just stand there . . . do something! The enemy is coming. We’re going to die. We’ll never win like this. What are we waiting for?”
But as they just stand there, waiting, the Lord sends His word through a prophet: “Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s. You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf.”
This statement is a bright yellow flashing arrow pointing me toward the gospel. It is, I think, the most essential message of the Bible: the battle belongs to the Lord. And yet, for some reason, it is the most difficult concept for me to truly grasp and apply.
Most of the time I find myself running around like a squirrel, looking for an acorn, carrying it to some hidden spot, stashing it there, and then racing off to start all over again. Motion . . . constant motion and activity. And all this while the oak just stands there . . . and grows bigger and stronger. Each year she spreads her branches wider, casting her harvest of acorns across an ever expanding territory. Who does the squirrel nourish? Himself and maybe his offspring. Who does the oak nourish? Countless numbers of creatures big and small; by just standing there.
As I enter 2008, I am praying Psalm 1 for myself: that, delighting in God’s word (His inspired, life-giving word that is revealed and applied in me by His indwelling Holy Spirit), I would be like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season.
Deliver me from the “squirrel-race,” gracious Father. Teach me that my work is to wait upon you, like an oak planted by a stream. Give me patience to stand firm and hold my position on the ground where you have planted me. Strengthen me to resist those voices that would rebuke me, mock me, ridicule me, threaten me, insult me into thinking that the battle is really mine; that it is up to me to produce the fruit; that it is up to me to change my own or someone else’s circumstances; that it is up to me to generate the plan; that it is up to me to supply the results. Convince me, merciful Father, that the battle is Yours. Teach me to let you fight for me. Teach me to wait for the fruit that you will surely bring forth in its season. Amen.
Today, I imagined that oak tree when she was just a young sapling. Not too many branches; not too many leaves; no acorns. I could hear the squirrels badgering her as they raced to and fro around her undeveloped trunk, preparing frantically for the long winter: “Don’t just stand there . . . do something! Winter is coming. You’re going to starve. You’ll never get anywhere like that. What are you waiting for?”
And then my mind shifts to another scene from the book of 2 Chronicles. A large army is bearing down on the small nation of Judah. King Jehoshaphat knows that the situation is hopeless. He calls the people of Judah together to seek the Lord, praying this prayer: “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” Then, the text says that all of Judah just stood there before the Lord with their little ones, their wives, and their children. They just stood there. I can hear the grumbling from the “squirrels” in the ranks: “Don’t just stand there . . . do something! The enemy is coming. We’re going to die. We’ll never win like this. What are we waiting for?”
But as they just stand there, waiting, the Lord sends His word through a prophet: “Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s. You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf.”
This statement is a bright yellow flashing arrow pointing me toward the gospel. It is, I think, the most essential message of the Bible: the battle belongs to the Lord. And yet, for some reason, it is the most difficult concept for me to truly grasp and apply.
Most of the time I find myself running around like a squirrel, looking for an acorn, carrying it to some hidden spot, stashing it there, and then racing off to start all over again. Motion . . . constant motion and activity. And all this while the oak just stands there . . . and grows bigger and stronger. Each year she spreads her branches wider, casting her harvest of acorns across an ever expanding territory. Who does the squirrel nourish? Himself and maybe his offspring. Who does the oak nourish? Countless numbers of creatures big and small; by just standing there.
As I enter 2008, I am praying Psalm 1 for myself: that, delighting in God’s word (His inspired, life-giving word that is revealed and applied in me by His indwelling Holy Spirit), I would be like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season.
Deliver me from the “squirrel-race,” gracious Father. Teach me that my work is to wait upon you, like an oak planted by a stream. Give me patience to stand firm and hold my position on the ground where you have planted me. Strengthen me to resist those voices that would rebuke me, mock me, ridicule me, threaten me, insult me into thinking that the battle is really mine; that it is up to me to produce the fruit; that it is up to me to change my own or someone else’s circumstances; that it is up to me to generate the plan; that it is up to me to supply the results. Convince me, merciful Father, that the battle is Yours. Teach me to let you fight for me. Teach me to wait for the fruit that you will surely bring forth in its season. Amen.
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