Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, . . . (Mark 10:21)
Jesus, looking at you, loved you and said . . .
What would He say? In the text above, Jesus says to the man that he needs to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and he would have treasure in heaven. Then Jesus said, “come, follow me.”
For this man, his stuff was the problem. His stuff was where he found security and comfort. His stuff mattered more to him than anything else. Jesus loved him enough to speak this truth. His stuff was keeping him from the kingdom of heaven. His stuff needed to go before this man could truly follow Jesus. And really, it wasn’t the stuff that was the problem, it was this man’s dependence on his stuff. He depended on inanimate objects for his comfort and security. And there Jesus stood in front of him, a living, breathing human being. What this man needed was Jesus – nothing else.
And for us, too, stuff is often one of the greatest challenges we face in following Jesus. Agree?
Have you ever been asked this question?
Your house is on fire. You have to get out. You can only grab three items. What do you take? What matters the most of all the “stuff” you have?
Let’s do it a different way.
You only have one life. What do you have to have to live this life? What are you dependent upon? What can’t you go with out?
We tend to be people who like the “both and” approach when it comes to questions like this. Especially those of us who live in affluence, we are tempted to rationalize our affluence and how it doesn’t hinder us from following Jesus. So we go with the “both and” approach. We can acquire basically whatever we want (within reason and if we can afford it) AND we can be a faithful follower of Jesus at the same time.
We want to follow Jesus and not give up our stuff. We want them both and we work hard to rationalize how we can have them both. “Stuff isn’t bad in and of itself – it’s the love of stuff, that’s bad. I don’t love my stuff like I love Jesus.” Really? How important is your stuff to you?
Do you see what happens to this man when he is forced to choose? He chooses his stuff over Jesus. He is saddened by Jesus’ words and probably will go look for another rabbi who will tell him what he wants to hear – probably a rabbi committed to his stuff, too.
Once Jesus says the well known words about it being pretty much impossible for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven – like a camel going through the eye of a needle impossible, they cry out, “Who then can be saved?” A good question with an even better response.
You can’t save yourself. It is impossible to “earn” your way. You can’t do it. But hear also what that means to this text. You can’t give up all your possessions. You can’t give your money to the poor. You can’t inherit your treasures in heaven. You can’t do it. You are mortal. You are human. You are sinful. You will choose your stuff.
BUT, it doesn’t have to be this way because all things are possible with God, not you. But, Jesus says, you have to follow me – just me. And if you follow me, Jesus says, I will help you give up your dependence on your stuff. I will help you see that what you need is me not more money or a new outfit or a new video system. You need me. And what you’ll find with me is sufficient. No, not just sufficient, it is abundant. Your cup will overflow. You’ll have to give some away because they’ll be too much for you to keep for yourself.
Jesus looks at you. He loves you. And He loves you enough to say, you need nothing else but me.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Unclean
The Pharisees were hung up on cleanliness. They kept tattling on the disciples for not following all of the man-made rules of cleanliness. “They didn’t wash their hands, Jesus.” “They ate with sinners, Jesus.” “They are not following the rules, Jesus.” “What are you going to do about it?”
Jesus responded with,
These people honor me with their lips but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men. You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men.
Mark 7:6b-8
We face some of the same challenges, don’t we? We are also tempted to hang on to the traditions of men at the expense of God. Sometimes we let our traditions rise above God’s direction or we elevate traditions of men and put them with commands of God.
But I want to talk about a specific area in this topic that is difficult to address. Not only do we get caught up in the traditions of men and judge those who don’t adhere to these traditions, but we also are tempted to see people who are different than us as unclean just because they are different.
We stereotype. We judge. We discriminate. We avoid. We actually act like some people are actually unclean and must be avoided or they will make us unclean.
Jesus touched a leper. Jesus associated with tax collectors and prostitutes. Jesus interacted Samaritans and Gentiles. Jesus even washed other peoples’ feet.
Are there people in your life who you treat or see as unclean? Is there any prejudice, racism, or discrimination in your life? What would happen if our church became ethnically diverse? What would happen if “sinners” started coming through our doors? What about people with AIDS? What about homosexuals? What about those who speak a different language? What about those who look and act differently than we do? How would we respond?
Is there such a thing as an untouchable in God’s eyes? What about in your eyes?
To Jesus, every person is a person. Every human He created, He created. His love for each one is the same.
Jesus responded with,
These people honor me with their lips but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men. You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men.
Mark 7:6b-8
We face some of the same challenges, don’t we? We are also tempted to hang on to the traditions of men at the expense of God. Sometimes we let our traditions rise above God’s direction or we elevate traditions of men and put them with commands of God.
But I want to talk about a specific area in this topic that is difficult to address. Not only do we get caught up in the traditions of men and judge those who don’t adhere to these traditions, but we also are tempted to see people who are different than us as unclean just because they are different.
We stereotype. We judge. We discriminate. We avoid. We actually act like some people are actually unclean and must be avoided or they will make us unclean.
Jesus touched a leper. Jesus associated with tax collectors and prostitutes. Jesus interacted Samaritans and Gentiles. Jesus even washed other peoples’ feet.
Are there people in your life who you treat or see as unclean? Is there any prejudice, racism, or discrimination in your life? What would happen if our church became ethnically diverse? What would happen if “sinners” started coming through our doors? What about people with AIDS? What about homosexuals? What about those who speak a different language? What about those who look and act differently than we do? How would we respond?
Is there such a thing as an untouchable in God’s eyes? What about in your eyes?
To Jesus, every person is a person. Every human He created, He created. His love for each one is the same.
Discernment & Humility - Smith
The following are quotes from Gordon T. Smith’s book, The Voice of Jesus. Note the interesting relationship found between discernment and humility. Can we really know the will of God if we continue in self-centeredness and self-exaltation? Can we really discern God’s will without humility?
Discernment, then, is not merely a matter of rational analysis, of weighing the pros and cons and seeking to respond with a biblically informed mind to the options we are facing. Neither is discernment a matter of pure revelation, what some call “a word from the Lord.” Rather, it is a way of knowing and seeing that is experienced as a profound interplay of intellect and emotion in which head and heart are informing and guiding each other. Discernment is a matter of attending to both the circumstances of our lives and the emotional contours of our hearts. (53)
(Jonathan) Edwards had a basic assumption that guided his investigation (of discernment): the real test of the validity of spiritual experience is the outcome – the fruit of the experience. For example, he stressed that if we feel grief for sin, it should result in a life that moves away from sin. If we have great joy in the midst of worship, it should lead to a life in which joy is more fundamental and central to our day-to-day experience. In other words, if God is truly present, personal and corporate transformation will occur. Edwards challenged the view that dramatic emotional experience meant that God was present and that transformation necessarily followed. What mattered was not the depth of emotion or feeling; the trust test was whether the experience led to genuine spiritual growth. (48)
Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant. Mark 10:43
Yet the wonder of Jesus’ words is that those who make a difference are those who have learned to give power away, to serve in such a way that others are enabled through that service to be all they are called to be. In other words, the genius of making a difference in our world is not through the exercise of power, and even less through the accumulation of power, but through the empowerment of others. We make a difference through service. (150-151)
Humility is critical. The Spiritual Exercises (by Ignatius) include a word that expresses the hope of humility for which we long: indifference. Holy indifference is not apathy; it is rather the inner posture of freedom, where we are able to say and feel that we are open to whatever God wills. If God gives wealth, this is good. If God withholds wealth, this too is good. If God grants us the position for which we have applied, that is good. If God grants it to another, this is good as well. We are indifferent. It is not that we do not care, but we have chosen to place our hopes and longings in God, and come what may, we will be content with how God provides. It also means that we will trust God to do His work in His time. (152)
On a basic level, humility includes an awareness of sin and the need for repentance. Humility also fosters a courageous self-disclosure and honesty with God and self. . . Further, a person of humility is disposed to the purposes and will of God. For (Charles) Wesley, without a fundamental humility or meekness, expressed in a submission of the spirit before the holiness and goodness of God, there can be no knowledge of God. This submission is the antithesis of self-exaltation and self-centeredness. (46)
Discernment, then, is not merely a matter of rational analysis, of weighing the pros and cons and seeking to respond with a biblically informed mind to the options we are facing. Neither is discernment a matter of pure revelation, what some call “a word from the Lord.” Rather, it is a way of knowing and seeing that is experienced as a profound interplay of intellect and emotion in which head and heart are informing and guiding each other. Discernment is a matter of attending to both the circumstances of our lives and the emotional contours of our hearts. (53)
(Jonathan) Edwards had a basic assumption that guided his investigation (of discernment): the real test of the validity of spiritual experience is the outcome – the fruit of the experience. For example, he stressed that if we feel grief for sin, it should result in a life that moves away from sin. If we have great joy in the midst of worship, it should lead to a life in which joy is more fundamental and central to our day-to-day experience. In other words, if God is truly present, personal and corporate transformation will occur. Edwards challenged the view that dramatic emotional experience meant that God was present and that transformation necessarily followed. What mattered was not the depth of emotion or feeling; the trust test was whether the experience led to genuine spiritual growth. (48)
Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant. Mark 10:43
Yet the wonder of Jesus’ words is that those who make a difference are those who have learned to give power away, to serve in such a way that others are enabled through that service to be all they are called to be. In other words, the genius of making a difference in our world is not through the exercise of power, and even less through the accumulation of power, but through the empowerment of others. We make a difference through service. (150-151)
Humility is critical. The Spiritual Exercises (by Ignatius) include a word that expresses the hope of humility for which we long: indifference. Holy indifference is not apathy; it is rather the inner posture of freedom, where we are able to say and feel that we are open to whatever God wills. If God gives wealth, this is good. If God withholds wealth, this too is good. If God grants us the position for which we have applied, that is good. If God grants it to another, this is good as well. We are indifferent. It is not that we do not care, but we have chosen to place our hopes and longings in God, and come what may, we will be content with how God provides. It also means that we will trust God to do His work in His time. (152)
On a basic level, humility includes an awareness of sin and the need for repentance. Humility also fosters a courageous self-disclosure and honesty with God and self. . . Further, a person of humility is disposed to the purposes and will of God. For (Charles) Wesley, without a fundamental humility or meekness, expressed in a submission of the spirit before the holiness and goodness of God, there can be no knowledge of God. This submission is the antithesis of self-exaltation and self-centeredness. (46)
I have it all together. Don't you?
I have it all together. Don’t you?
It’s true. I’ve got this life thing figured out. Even when difficult times come, I handle them. I keep the struggle to myself. I act like everything is OK. You don’t have to worry about me.
You may wonder how I do it. You may wonder how someone who claims to “need” Jesus has no need for anyone else. Well, I guess the truth is that I do need help, but I am not willing to run the risk of having you see me in a negative way. I’d rather you see the “fake” me than the “needy” me. The fake me has it all together and that is the person I want you to see – even though we both know it’s not true.
Part of the reason I may be this way is that is how I was raised. I grew up keeping my needs private. I grew up with the value of keeping the “stiff upper lip.” It may hurt, but you won’t see me cry. I may have needs, but I will not burden you with them. I’ll handle it. I’ll get by. It’s what you do.
It could also be because I’ve been hurt. I’ve opened myself up to others and shared my need only to have confidences broken and to be treated with pity not love. I’ve even had people reprimand me for not keeping it together. It’s not worth the hurt to admit the truth of my need. It’s much easier to let people see the fake me and distract myself with all sorts of activities so I don’t think much about it.
Where this gets a little dicey is in my family. I can’t put the fake me on with the kids. I may try for a while, but they know the truth. Same thing goes for my spouse. She knows the truth, although I’m pretty good at focusing on her faults in order to avoid confronting my own. She has her own set of issues, so I just think about how she needs to change. My family is in on the plan, though. They know how to act in public. They know what to say and not say to other people. They know how to look like everything is good and we are a family who has it together. Family issues are family issues and must be kept in the family. It is an important value I’ve instilled in my family.
Yep, I need Jesus, but that’s as far as I’m going to go in admitting any needs or weaknesses. And that’s why I am pretty silent when you ask me how you can pray for me. It is not near as hard expressing the needs of others and how you can pray for them, but admitting to you how I really need help and really need Jesus to intervene in my life, that’s a little too personal. I feel a little too vulnerable.
Plus, I have issues. I see things in me I don’t like – in fact, I even detest. I’m not proud of what I do at times or the things I allow in my mind. I can’t share that with you or anyone. What would you think? You would treat me different. There is too much internal shame already to run the risk of experiencing shame from you.
So I guess, no I know, I don’t have it all together. In fact, at times I feel like I’m falling apart. I know you are probably in the same boat. But I won’t admit it to you if you don’t admit it to me. Let’s make that pact and keep it. It’s easier that way.
Jesus says to Paul (and to us) in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10,
“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” (So Paul responds as we should) So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.
One of the most important phrases we say to God and to one another is “I need your help.” Because it’s true. I need your help.
It’s true. I’ve got this life thing figured out. Even when difficult times come, I handle them. I keep the struggle to myself. I act like everything is OK. You don’t have to worry about me.
You may wonder how I do it. You may wonder how someone who claims to “need” Jesus has no need for anyone else. Well, I guess the truth is that I do need help, but I am not willing to run the risk of having you see me in a negative way. I’d rather you see the “fake” me than the “needy” me. The fake me has it all together and that is the person I want you to see – even though we both know it’s not true.
Part of the reason I may be this way is that is how I was raised. I grew up keeping my needs private. I grew up with the value of keeping the “stiff upper lip.” It may hurt, but you won’t see me cry. I may have needs, but I will not burden you with them. I’ll handle it. I’ll get by. It’s what you do.
It could also be because I’ve been hurt. I’ve opened myself up to others and shared my need only to have confidences broken and to be treated with pity not love. I’ve even had people reprimand me for not keeping it together. It’s not worth the hurt to admit the truth of my need. It’s much easier to let people see the fake me and distract myself with all sorts of activities so I don’t think much about it.
Where this gets a little dicey is in my family. I can’t put the fake me on with the kids. I may try for a while, but they know the truth. Same thing goes for my spouse. She knows the truth, although I’m pretty good at focusing on her faults in order to avoid confronting my own. She has her own set of issues, so I just think about how she needs to change. My family is in on the plan, though. They know how to act in public. They know what to say and not say to other people. They know how to look like everything is good and we are a family who has it together. Family issues are family issues and must be kept in the family. It is an important value I’ve instilled in my family.
Yep, I need Jesus, but that’s as far as I’m going to go in admitting any needs or weaknesses. And that’s why I am pretty silent when you ask me how you can pray for me. It is not near as hard expressing the needs of others and how you can pray for them, but admitting to you how I really need help and really need Jesus to intervene in my life, that’s a little too personal. I feel a little too vulnerable.
Plus, I have issues. I see things in me I don’t like – in fact, I even detest. I’m not proud of what I do at times or the things I allow in my mind. I can’t share that with you or anyone. What would you think? You would treat me different. There is too much internal shame already to run the risk of experiencing shame from you.
So I guess, no I know, I don’t have it all together. In fact, at times I feel like I’m falling apart. I know you are probably in the same boat. But I won’t admit it to you if you don’t admit it to me. Let’s make that pact and keep it. It’s easier that way.
Jesus says to Paul (and to us) in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10,
“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” (So Paul responds as we should) So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.
One of the most important phrases we say to God and to one another is “I need your help.” Because it’s true. I need your help.
General Synod - RCA
General Synod is the annual Reformed Church in America denominational meeting. People from all over the United States come to discuss the business of the RCA. The meeting lasted for six days in Holland, MI, at DeVos Fieldhouse on the campus of Hope College and I was there – at least for most of it.
There were 242 delegates (those who could vote), a hundred or so corresponding delegates (those with voice but no vote), and denominational staff and guests. We hear reports, discuss, pray, and listen to a variety of people speak.
Honestly, I was not excited about going. I went in 2003 and did not have a great experience. I also was not looking forward to being away from my family. I went because it was in Holland and decided I would rather go here than to New York or Iowa. The classis was also having a hard time finding someone to go, so I went.
I’m glad I did. I can’t say every moment was pure joy. There were definitely parts of the experience that were tedious. Plus, when I first registered and was given the packet of materials, they also include a seat cushion. I did not see this as a good sign. And true to my assumption, we spent a lot of time in chairs. I could have used two seat cushions.
One of the reasons I’m glad I went was the encouragement I felt about the direction of the Reformed Church in America. They really have determined to focus in some very specific directions and are not only saying this with words but are backing it up with resources and attention. Churches are being revitalized. New churches are starting. There is a definite commitment to reaching outside of our four walls. I heard a lot of encouraging reports and participated in some stimulating discussion.
A few of the highlights:
1. Discussion about what it means to be “missional” and “Reformed” and whether or not these two are compatible.
2. Incredibly challenging and important conversation about racism with General Synod adopting in their “Our Call” a sixth component – end racism in the denomination.
3. Listening to Richard Mouw (president of Fuller Seminary) speak on the importance of being Reformed and its foundational vision of being “missional.”
4. Meeting some people from around the country.
5. Spending some time with a few friends in Holland / Grand Rapids.
6. Being reminded that Community Reformed Church is headed in the right direction in terms of reaching out to those outside of the church.
One thing I heard which I continue to wrestle with and have not determined what it means is a comment made by Denise Kingdom-Grier during a sermon she gave during morning worship. The following is a paraphrase of what I heard her say,
So often we try and reach out to people because we believe they need what we have. We give and serve because we have something to give that they need. But what we really need to do if we are to truly reach out to those in need is to do so out of our weakness and not from our strength. In essence, we ought to lead with our weakness and dependence not with some misconstrued belief that we have more to offer.
Because when we reach out in weakness, we truly connect with those in need because we are in need too.
This is a poor paraphrase of what she said, but it has challenged me. What does it mean to reach out in weakness? How do we lead with our need? I definitely don’t know the answer, but very much resonate with the idea that connections have in relationships when there is not hierarchy of need. When we present ourselves as having it all together and willing to sacrifice something we have for others, we construct barriers in relationships. We don’t have it all figured out. We don’t have it all together.
I’ll stop here. Please don’t hesitate to ask further questions if you are interested. There is a whole bunch of information about General Synod at the denominational web site: www.rca.org. I’d encourage you to read Wesley Granberg-Michaelson’s General Secretary’s address. It is worth reading.
There were 242 delegates (those who could vote), a hundred or so corresponding delegates (those with voice but no vote), and denominational staff and guests. We hear reports, discuss, pray, and listen to a variety of people speak.
Honestly, I was not excited about going. I went in 2003 and did not have a great experience. I also was not looking forward to being away from my family. I went because it was in Holland and decided I would rather go here than to New York or Iowa. The classis was also having a hard time finding someone to go, so I went.
I’m glad I did. I can’t say every moment was pure joy. There were definitely parts of the experience that were tedious. Plus, when I first registered and was given the packet of materials, they also include a seat cushion. I did not see this as a good sign. And true to my assumption, we spent a lot of time in chairs. I could have used two seat cushions.
One of the reasons I’m glad I went was the encouragement I felt about the direction of the Reformed Church in America. They really have determined to focus in some very specific directions and are not only saying this with words but are backing it up with resources and attention. Churches are being revitalized. New churches are starting. There is a definite commitment to reaching outside of our four walls. I heard a lot of encouraging reports and participated in some stimulating discussion.
A few of the highlights:
1. Discussion about what it means to be “missional” and “Reformed” and whether or not these two are compatible.
2. Incredibly challenging and important conversation about racism with General Synod adopting in their “Our Call” a sixth component – end racism in the denomination.
3. Listening to Richard Mouw (president of Fuller Seminary) speak on the importance of being Reformed and its foundational vision of being “missional.”
4. Meeting some people from around the country.
5. Spending some time with a few friends in Holland / Grand Rapids.
6. Being reminded that Community Reformed Church is headed in the right direction in terms of reaching out to those outside of the church.
One thing I heard which I continue to wrestle with and have not determined what it means is a comment made by Denise Kingdom-Grier during a sermon she gave during morning worship. The following is a paraphrase of what I heard her say,
So often we try and reach out to people because we believe they need what we have. We give and serve because we have something to give that they need. But what we really need to do if we are to truly reach out to those in need is to do so out of our weakness and not from our strength. In essence, we ought to lead with our weakness and dependence not with some misconstrued belief that we have more to offer.
Because when we reach out in weakness, we truly connect with those in need because we are in need too.
This is a poor paraphrase of what she said, but it has challenged me. What does it mean to reach out in weakness? How do we lead with our need? I definitely don’t know the answer, but very much resonate with the idea that connections have in relationships when there is not hierarchy of need. When we present ourselves as having it all together and willing to sacrifice something we have for others, we construct barriers in relationships. We don’t have it all figured out. We don’t have it all together.
I’ll stop here. Please don’t hesitate to ask further questions if you are interested. There is a whole bunch of information about General Synod at the denominational web site: www.rca.org. I’d encourage you to read Wesley Granberg-Michaelson’s General Secretary’s address. It is worth reading.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Grow in Grace
I can’t help but share these excerpts from Hannah Whitall Smith’s book, A Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life.
Grace. . . is the unhindered, wondrous, boundless love of God, poured out upon us in an infinite variety of ways without measure. Although we do not deserve it, grace comes from the measureless heart of love. (160)
Put together all the tenderest love you know, the deepest and strongest you have ever felt, heap upon it all the love of all the loving human hearts in the world, multiply it by infinity, and you will begin perhaps have some faint glimpse of the love and grace of God!
In order to grow in grace, the soul must be planted in the very heart of this divine love, enveloped by it, steeped in it. The soul must give itself to the joy of it, and must refuse to know anything else. Day by day the soul must entrust everything to the care of this divine love and must not doubt that all will be well ordered. (161)
. . . though we may work hard trying to make beautiful spiritual garments for ourselves, and though we may work hard in our efforts to gain spiritual growth, we shall accomplish nothing. For no man by taking thought can add one cubit to his stature, and no array of ours can ever equal the beautiful dress with which the great Husbandman (God) clothes the plants that grow in His garden of grace and under His fostering care.
If I could make each of my readers realize how utterly helpless we are in this matter of growing, I am convinced a large part of the strain would be taken out of many lives at once.
Imagine a child possessed of the worry that he would not grow unless he made some personal effort to do so. Suppose he tried to use a combination of ropes and pulleys to stretch himself up to the desired height. He might, it is true, spend his days and years in weary strain. There would be no changing the fact that “No man by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature.” His weary efforts would be only wasted, and might even actually hinder the long-awaited end.
Neither a child nor a lily is ever found doing such a vain and foolish thing as trying to grow. But I fear many of God’s children are doing exactly this foolish thing. They know that they ought to grow, and they feel within them an instinct that longs for growth. But instead of letting the divine Husbandman care for their growing, as it surely His business to do, they try to accomplish it themselves. Consequently, they waste their energies and find themselves not growing at all.
What we all need is to “consider the lilies of the field” and learn their secret. Grow, by all means, dear Christians, but grow in God’s way. See to it that you are planted in grace, and then let the divine Husbandman cultivate you in His own way and by His own means. Put yourselves out in the sunshine of His presence and let the dew of heaven come down upon you. See what the results will be. Leaves and flowers and fruit must come in their season, for your Husbandman is skillful and never fails in His harvesting. Only see to it that you do not hinder the shining of the Sun of Righteousness, or the falling of the dew from heaven. The thinnest covering may serve to keep off the sunshine and the dew, causing the plant to wither. So the slightest barrier between your soul and Christ may cause you to dwindle and fade as a plant in a cellar or under a bush. Keep the sky clear. Receive the blessed influences your divine Husbandman may bring to bear upon you. Bask in the sunshine of His love. Drink of the waters of His goodness. Keep your face upturned to Him as the flowers do the sun. Look, and your soul will live and grow. (162-164)
It is the great prerogative of your divine Husbandman that He is able to turn any soil, whatever it may be like, into the soil of grace, the moment we put our growing into His hands. He does not need to transplant us into a different field. Right where we are, with just the circumstances that surround us, He makes His sun to shine and His dew to fall upon us. He transforms the very things that were our greatest hindrances to the most blessed means of our growth. I don’t care what the circumstances may be, His wonder-working power can accomplish this. We must trust Him with it all. We can trust. And if He sends storms, or winds, or rains, or sunshine, all must be accepted at His hands with the most unwavering confidence that He who has undertaken to cultivate us and to bring us to maturity, knows the very best way of accomplishing His end. (165-166)
. . . what is needed for happy and effective service is simply to put your work into the Lord’s hands and leave it there. Do not take it to Him in prayer, saying, “Lord, guide me. Lord, give me wisdom. Lord, arrange for me,” and then rise from your knees, take the burden all back, and try to guide and arrange for yourself. Leave it with the Lord. (183)
If we are to walk as Christ walked, it must be in private as well as in public, at home as well as abroad. It must be every hour all day long, and not at stated periods or on certain fixed occasions. We must be Christlike everywhere and to all. It is in daily living that practical holiness can best show itself, and we may well question any “professions” that fail under this test of daily life.
An anxious Christian, a discouraged, gloomy Christian, a doubting Christian, a complaining Christian, an exacting Christian, a selfish Christian, a cruel, hard-hearted Christian, a self-indulgent Christian, a Christian with a sharp tongue or bitter spirit, may be a very earnest worker and have an honorable place in the Church. But, he or she is not a Christlike Christian, and knows nothing of the lessons of this book concerning the higher Christian life. (188)
I have noticed that wherever someone has been truly faithful following the Lord, several things have inevitably followed sooner or later. Meekness and quietness of spirit in time become characteristics of the daily life. A submissive acceptance of the will of God is shown as it comes in the hourly events of each day. There is a willingness in the believer whose life is in the hands of God to do or to suffer all the good pleasure of His will. There is sweetness when provoked. There is a calmness in the midst of turmoil. There is a yielding to the wishes of others, and an insensibility to slights and affronts. There is absence of worry or anxiety. There is deliverance from care and fear. . .
We see such Christians sooner or later laying aside thoughts of self and becoming full of consideration for others. They dress and live in simply healthful ways. They renounce self-indulgent habits and surrender all purely fleshly gratifications. Some helpful work for others is taken up, and useless occupations are dropped out of life. God’s glory, and the welfare of His creatures, become the absorbing delight of the soul. The voice is dedicated to Him, to be used in singing His praises. Money is placed at His disposal. The pen is dedicated to write for Him. The lips are dedicated to speak for Him. The hands and the feet are dedicated to do His bidding. Year after year such Christians are seen to grow more unworldly, serene, heavenly-minded, transformed, and more like Christ, until even their faces express so much of the beautiful, inward, divine life, that all who look at them can see that they live with Jesus. They are abiding in Him. (190)
Grace. . . is the unhindered, wondrous, boundless love of God, poured out upon us in an infinite variety of ways without measure. Although we do not deserve it, grace comes from the measureless heart of love. (160)
Put together all the tenderest love you know, the deepest and strongest you have ever felt, heap upon it all the love of all the loving human hearts in the world, multiply it by infinity, and you will begin perhaps have some faint glimpse of the love and grace of God!
In order to grow in grace, the soul must be planted in the very heart of this divine love, enveloped by it, steeped in it. The soul must give itself to the joy of it, and must refuse to know anything else. Day by day the soul must entrust everything to the care of this divine love and must not doubt that all will be well ordered. (161)
. . . though we may work hard trying to make beautiful spiritual garments for ourselves, and though we may work hard in our efforts to gain spiritual growth, we shall accomplish nothing. For no man by taking thought can add one cubit to his stature, and no array of ours can ever equal the beautiful dress with which the great Husbandman (God) clothes the plants that grow in His garden of grace and under His fostering care.
If I could make each of my readers realize how utterly helpless we are in this matter of growing, I am convinced a large part of the strain would be taken out of many lives at once.
Imagine a child possessed of the worry that he would not grow unless he made some personal effort to do so. Suppose he tried to use a combination of ropes and pulleys to stretch himself up to the desired height. He might, it is true, spend his days and years in weary strain. There would be no changing the fact that “No man by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature.” His weary efforts would be only wasted, and might even actually hinder the long-awaited end.
Neither a child nor a lily is ever found doing such a vain and foolish thing as trying to grow. But I fear many of God’s children are doing exactly this foolish thing. They know that they ought to grow, and they feel within them an instinct that longs for growth. But instead of letting the divine Husbandman care for their growing, as it surely His business to do, they try to accomplish it themselves. Consequently, they waste their energies and find themselves not growing at all.
What we all need is to “consider the lilies of the field” and learn their secret. Grow, by all means, dear Christians, but grow in God’s way. See to it that you are planted in grace, and then let the divine Husbandman cultivate you in His own way and by His own means. Put yourselves out in the sunshine of His presence and let the dew of heaven come down upon you. See what the results will be. Leaves and flowers and fruit must come in their season, for your Husbandman is skillful and never fails in His harvesting. Only see to it that you do not hinder the shining of the Sun of Righteousness, or the falling of the dew from heaven. The thinnest covering may serve to keep off the sunshine and the dew, causing the plant to wither. So the slightest barrier between your soul and Christ may cause you to dwindle and fade as a plant in a cellar or under a bush. Keep the sky clear. Receive the blessed influences your divine Husbandman may bring to bear upon you. Bask in the sunshine of His love. Drink of the waters of His goodness. Keep your face upturned to Him as the flowers do the sun. Look, and your soul will live and grow. (162-164)
It is the great prerogative of your divine Husbandman that He is able to turn any soil, whatever it may be like, into the soil of grace, the moment we put our growing into His hands. He does not need to transplant us into a different field. Right where we are, with just the circumstances that surround us, He makes His sun to shine and His dew to fall upon us. He transforms the very things that were our greatest hindrances to the most blessed means of our growth. I don’t care what the circumstances may be, His wonder-working power can accomplish this. We must trust Him with it all. We can trust. And if He sends storms, or winds, or rains, or sunshine, all must be accepted at His hands with the most unwavering confidence that He who has undertaken to cultivate us and to bring us to maturity, knows the very best way of accomplishing His end. (165-166)
. . . what is needed for happy and effective service is simply to put your work into the Lord’s hands and leave it there. Do not take it to Him in prayer, saying, “Lord, guide me. Lord, give me wisdom. Lord, arrange for me,” and then rise from your knees, take the burden all back, and try to guide and arrange for yourself. Leave it with the Lord. (183)
If we are to walk as Christ walked, it must be in private as well as in public, at home as well as abroad. It must be every hour all day long, and not at stated periods or on certain fixed occasions. We must be Christlike everywhere and to all. It is in daily living that practical holiness can best show itself, and we may well question any “professions” that fail under this test of daily life.
An anxious Christian, a discouraged, gloomy Christian, a doubting Christian, a complaining Christian, an exacting Christian, a selfish Christian, a cruel, hard-hearted Christian, a self-indulgent Christian, a Christian with a sharp tongue or bitter spirit, may be a very earnest worker and have an honorable place in the Church. But, he or she is not a Christlike Christian, and knows nothing of the lessons of this book concerning the higher Christian life. (188)
I have noticed that wherever someone has been truly faithful following the Lord, several things have inevitably followed sooner or later. Meekness and quietness of spirit in time become characteristics of the daily life. A submissive acceptance of the will of God is shown as it comes in the hourly events of each day. There is a willingness in the believer whose life is in the hands of God to do or to suffer all the good pleasure of His will. There is sweetness when provoked. There is a calmness in the midst of turmoil. There is a yielding to the wishes of others, and an insensibility to slights and affronts. There is absence of worry or anxiety. There is deliverance from care and fear. . .
We see such Christians sooner or later laying aside thoughts of self and becoming full of consideration for others. They dress and live in simply healthful ways. They renounce self-indulgent habits and surrender all purely fleshly gratifications. Some helpful work for others is taken up, and useless occupations are dropped out of life. God’s glory, and the welfare of His creatures, become the absorbing delight of the soul. The voice is dedicated to Him, to be used in singing His praises. Money is placed at His disposal. The pen is dedicated to write for Him. The lips are dedicated to speak for Him. The hands and the feet are dedicated to do His bidding. Year after year such Christians are seen to grow more unworldly, serene, heavenly-minded, transformed, and more like Christ, until even their faces express so much of the beautiful, inward, divine life, that all who look at them can see that they live with Jesus. They are abiding in Him. (190)
Self-Righteous Prayer?
I am discouragingly amazed how quickly my mind can focus on how other people need to change. I am amazed at how judgmental and self-righteous I can be. I see this tendency in me to think, “If only he or she or they would . . . . . .” And really, the conclusion of that phrase tends to all fall into the same category. “If only they would be more like me.”
I couch all these unhealthy ponderings under the category of “I just want them to grow and enjoy life more.” My self-righteousness is hidden behind the veil of compassion and sympathy. It is not true compassion I feel. It is veiled self-righteousness. I am disheartened by how much time and emotional energy I can invest in thinking about how others needs to change, how they just don’t get it, or how frustrating it is for me to live with them. I move from self-righteousness to self-pity. What a sad progression.
So here I am investing all sorts of time and energy into thinking about another person(s) in unhealthy ways. I argue with them in my minds. I think poor thoughts about them. And it consumes my day. It consumes my thoughts and emotions. I cannot do anything else. I am hindered by these unhealthy emotions.
Satan wins. This is his goal. I succumb to sin too easily.
God is helping me to see this tendency, to confess, and to respond in helpful and healthy ways. He is calling me – He is calling you – to pray. Now be careful about this. That tendency to be self-righteous can filter its way into our prayer life as well. We don’t really pray for the person, but we pray that this person would change so it would be easier for me. That is not the prayer I am talking about.
First, do you believe that God loves everyone unconditionally? Do you believe He looks with compassion upon every person including those who you struggle with?
If your answer is ‘yes’, then it is clear we should love them too. Now I know that doesn’t change your heart, but it is an important place to start, because here you recognize that your heart needs to change. If God loves them, so can I. Regardless of what they've done (or not done), God not only calls us to love them, He gives us the love so we can. And what also happens is that if we are unable to love, meaning to long for them to experience God’s love, we begin to see our own part of the problem. Something about us is keeping us from this love. This is a tough place to arrive at because as much energy as you’ve devoted in judging and pointing out the faults of another, you begin to see that your faults are a significant barrier to loving as God does. Maybe it comes from jealousy or insecurity or maybe there is bitterness that has been harbored and allowed to fester, or maybe it goes back to some experience in your past that you’ve never addressed – whatever it is, it must be dealt with (by God) before God’s love can be found in your love towards this person.
Second, know that you are not alone in this struggle. Know that God promises to help you overcome whatever it is that is keeping you from loving this person. See the compassion and love God extends to you – IN SPITE OF YOU. If God can love me, He can love you.
Finally, pray. Instead of letting the mind take you down that path of judgmentalness or self-righteousness, pray for this person. Place them in God’s hands. Pray blessing upon them. Pray they would experience and know of God’s love for them. Pray that God would help them to see Him. Pray that God would help your heart be changed toward them. Confess your sin of judgmentalness, bitterness, anger, self-righteousness, etc.
For me it seems, that in those places like this that are hard, God is doing His most important work on me. It is hard work. I don’t like it. But I need it.
“As Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd . . .” (Mark 6:34)
Selfish people were in that crowd. Self-righteous people were, too. People with unhealthy motives, people who doubted Jesus, people who just wanted to get something from Him. But Jesus responded with compassion not judgment, love not rebuke, and humility not pride. We’re in that crowd and so are those we struggle with. May we look upon all people in our lives with compassion, with an earnest desire for them to experience and know the love and compassion of Jesus Christ. May they see it and experience it in us.
I couch all these unhealthy ponderings under the category of “I just want them to grow and enjoy life more.” My self-righteousness is hidden behind the veil of compassion and sympathy. It is not true compassion I feel. It is veiled self-righteousness. I am disheartened by how much time and emotional energy I can invest in thinking about how others needs to change, how they just don’t get it, or how frustrating it is for me to live with them. I move from self-righteousness to self-pity. What a sad progression.
So here I am investing all sorts of time and energy into thinking about another person(s) in unhealthy ways. I argue with them in my minds. I think poor thoughts about them. And it consumes my day. It consumes my thoughts and emotions. I cannot do anything else. I am hindered by these unhealthy emotions.
Satan wins. This is his goal. I succumb to sin too easily.
God is helping me to see this tendency, to confess, and to respond in helpful and healthy ways. He is calling me – He is calling you – to pray. Now be careful about this. That tendency to be self-righteous can filter its way into our prayer life as well. We don’t really pray for the person, but we pray that this person would change so it would be easier for me. That is not the prayer I am talking about.
First, do you believe that God loves everyone unconditionally? Do you believe He looks with compassion upon every person including those who you struggle with?
If your answer is ‘yes’, then it is clear we should love them too. Now I know that doesn’t change your heart, but it is an important place to start, because here you recognize that your heart needs to change. If God loves them, so can I. Regardless of what they've done (or not done), God not only calls us to love them, He gives us the love so we can. And what also happens is that if we are unable to love, meaning to long for them to experience God’s love, we begin to see our own part of the problem. Something about us is keeping us from this love. This is a tough place to arrive at because as much energy as you’ve devoted in judging and pointing out the faults of another, you begin to see that your faults are a significant barrier to loving as God does. Maybe it comes from jealousy or insecurity or maybe there is bitterness that has been harbored and allowed to fester, or maybe it goes back to some experience in your past that you’ve never addressed – whatever it is, it must be dealt with (by God) before God’s love can be found in your love towards this person.
Second, know that you are not alone in this struggle. Know that God promises to help you overcome whatever it is that is keeping you from loving this person. See the compassion and love God extends to you – IN SPITE OF YOU. If God can love me, He can love you.
Finally, pray. Instead of letting the mind take you down that path of judgmentalness or self-righteousness, pray for this person. Place them in God’s hands. Pray blessing upon them. Pray they would experience and know of God’s love for them. Pray that God would help them to see Him. Pray that God would help your heart be changed toward them. Confess your sin of judgmentalness, bitterness, anger, self-righteousness, etc.
For me it seems, that in those places like this that are hard, God is doing His most important work on me. It is hard work. I don’t like it. But I need it.
“As Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd . . .” (Mark 6:34)
Selfish people were in that crowd. Self-righteous people were, too. People with unhealthy motives, people who doubted Jesus, people who just wanted to get something from Him. But Jesus responded with compassion not judgment, love not rebuke, and humility not pride. We’re in that crowd and so are those we struggle with. May we look upon all people in our lives with compassion, with an earnest desire for them to experience and know the love and compassion of Jesus Christ. May they see it and experience it in us.
Prayer - Crabb & Piper
Don’t skip this one. Prayer is the lifeblood of a believer. Read on and be encouraged.
From Larry Crabb’s book The Papa Prayer. . .
Efforts to worship God without first getting to know Him tend to reduce worship to mere appreciation when God cooperates with our agendas. And thanking God without true worship, without first being stunned that the holy God who has every right to abandon us instead draws us closer, leaves us still thinking that at least a few things ought to go our way. But when true worship is the spring from which gratitude flows, we take nothing for granted. . .
As we get to know God, worship Him, and thank Him in all things, our hearts go out to others, including rejecting spouses, irritating teenagers, and betraying friends. The mind of Christ takes over, and we become more concerned for others than for ourselves. We care more about their relationship with God than their impact on us. We want them to know God, worship Him, and live lives of gratitude to Him as we do. So we naturally turn to prayers of intercession. We pray on their behalf with selfless motives.
But if we intercede for others without attending to our own relationship with God, our intercession will have more to do with our well-being than with theirs. “God, change my spouse so I won’t hurt so much.” “Soften my child’s heart so I won’t be so worried.” “Change so-and-so in my small group so I’ll enjoy my involvement more.”
. . . “God, may my surgery go well, may I make more money, may I feel more energy, may I find more friends, but grant these personal comforts only if they will not interfere with but will rather enhance the formation of Christ in me.” (my emphasis)
Missionary and evangelist E. Stanley Jones wrote, “The first thing in prayer is to get God. If you get Him, everything else follows. Allow God to get at you, to invade you, to take possession of you. He then pours His very prayers through you. They are His prayers – God-inspired, and hence, God answered.”
Christian writer Ravi Zacharias put it this way: “Prayer is not the means of bringing our will to pass but the means by which He brings our will into line to gladly receive His will.”
. . . if we keep on believing that prayer is more about getting things than getting God, not only will we eventually get thoroughly confused when prayer doesn’t “work,” but talking to God will at some point feel boring as well. If we’re honest. (37)
The chief purpose of prayer is to get to know God, to deepen our relationship with Him, to nourish the life of God He’s already placed within us, and to do it all to satisfy His desire for relationship with us. (42)
And from John Piper’s book, Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist . . .
God aims to exalt Himself by working for those who wait for Him. Prayer is the essential activity of waiting for God – acknowledging our helplessness and His power, calling upon Him for help, seeking His counsel. . . Prayer is the antidote for the disease of self-confidence, which opposes God’s goal of getting glory by working for those who wait for Him. (170)
. . . God is not looking for people to work for Him, so much as He is looking for people who will let Him work for them. The gospel is not a help-wanted ad. Neither is the call to Christian service. On the contrary, the gospel commands us to give up and hang out a help-wanted sign (this is the basic meaning of prayer). Then the gospel promises that God will work for us if we do. He will not surrender the glory of being the Giver. (171)
The fullness of joy we seek is the joy of overflowing love to other people. No amount of getting can satisfy the soul until it overflows in giving. And no sacrifice will destroy the soul-delights of an obedient people on a mission of love from God, for which prayer is His strategic provision. So the reason we pray is “that our joy may be full.”
Fellowship with Jesus is essential to joy, but there is something about it that impels us outward, to share His life with others. A Christian can’t be happy and stingy: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Therefore, the second reason a life of prayer leads to fullness of joy is that it gives us the power to love. If the pump of love runs dry, it is because the pipe of prayer isn’t deep enough. (178)
In prayer we admit our poverty and God’s prosperity, our bankruptcy and His bounty, our misery and His mercy. Therefore, prayer highly exalts and glorifies God precisely by pursuing everything we long for in Him, and not in ourselves. “Ask, and you will receive . . . that the Father may be glorified in the Son and . . . that your joy may be full.” (182)
From Larry Crabb’s book The Papa Prayer. . .
Efforts to worship God without first getting to know Him tend to reduce worship to mere appreciation when God cooperates with our agendas. And thanking God without true worship, without first being stunned that the holy God who has every right to abandon us instead draws us closer, leaves us still thinking that at least a few things ought to go our way. But when true worship is the spring from which gratitude flows, we take nothing for granted. . .
As we get to know God, worship Him, and thank Him in all things, our hearts go out to others, including rejecting spouses, irritating teenagers, and betraying friends. The mind of Christ takes over, and we become more concerned for others than for ourselves. We care more about their relationship with God than their impact on us. We want them to know God, worship Him, and live lives of gratitude to Him as we do. So we naturally turn to prayers of intercession. We pray on their behalf with selfless motives.
But if we intercede for others without attending to our own relationship with God, our intercession will have more to do with our well-being than with theirs. “God, change my spouse so I won’t hurt so much.” “Soften my child’s heart so I won’t be so worried.” “Change so-and-so in my small group so I’ll enjoy my involvement more.”
. . . “God, may my surgery go well, may I make more money, may I feel more energy, may I find more friends, but grant these personal comforts only if they will not interfere with but will rather enhance the formation of Christ in me.” (my emphasis)
Missionary and evangelist E. Stanley Jones wrote, “The first thing in prayer is to get God. If you get Him, everything else follows. Allow God to get at you, to invade you, to take possession of you. He then pours His very prayers through you. They are His prayers – God-inspired, and hence, God answered.”
Christian writer Ravi Zacharias put it this way: “Prayer is not the means of bringing our will to pass but the means by which He brings our will into line to gladly receive His will.”
. . . if we keep on believing that prayer is more about getting things than getting God, not only will we eventually get thoroughly confused when prayer doesn’t “work,” but talking to God will at some point feel boring as well. If we’re honest. (37)
The chief purpose of prayer is to get to know God, to deepen our relationship with Him, to nourish the life of God He’s already placed within us, and to do it all to satisfy His desire for relationship with us. (42)
And from John Piper’s book, Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist . . .
God aims to exalt Himself by working for those who wait for Him. Prayer is the essential activity of waiting for God – acknowledging our helplessness and His power, calling upon Him for help, seeking His counsel. . . Prayer is the antidote for the disease of self-confidence, which opposes God’s goal of getting glory by working for those who wait for Him. (170)
. . . God is not looking for people to work for Him, so much as He is looking for people who will let Him work for them. The gospel is not a help-wanted ad. Neither is the call to Christian service. On the contrary, the gospel commands us to give up and hang out a help-wanted sign (this is the basic meaning of prayer). Then the gospel promises that God will work for us if we do. He will not surrender the glory of being the Giver. (171)
The fullness of joy we seek is the joy of overflowing love to other people. No amount of getting can satisfy the soul until it overflows in giving. And no sacrifice will destroy the soul-delights of an obedient people on a mission of love from God, for which prayer is His strategic provision. So the reason we pray is “that our joy may be full.”
Fellowship with Jesus is essential to joy, but there is something about it that impels us outward, to share His life with others. A Christian can’t be happy and stingy: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Therefore, the second reason a life of prayer leads to fullness of joy is that it gives us the power to love. If the pump of love runs dry, it is because the pipe of prayer isn’t deep enough. (178)
In prayer we admit our poverty and God’s prosperity, our bankruptcy and His bounty, our misery and His mercy. Therefore, prayer highly exalts and glorifies God precisely by pursuing everything we long for in Him, and not in ourselves. “Ask, and you will receive . . . that the Father may be glorified in the Son and . . . that your joy may be full.” (182)
Covenant Testimony
This article was written by Theda Williams.
“I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”
I sat quietly on the couch between my mom and dad. Since I was the youngest of five, this was my usual spot whenever the family was together. My brothers and sisters were all there as well, sitting in their designated places as we went through the frightening experience of “house visitation.” Two elders, or sometimes, (as in this case), an elder and the Pastor came to check on the spiritual well-being of each household within the church. My Pastor asked questions of everyone, right on down the line, and then he came to me. “Theda, do you love the Lord?” That was my question and I gave the answer he wanted when I squeaked out a “yes.”
Recently when I came to a Wednesday night prayer meeting, we were asked to sit in silence for what seemed to be a long time, and listen for God to speak to us. When I finally quieted my mind, I found myself, as Peter did, on the beach with Jesus. Jesus looked at me and asked me the same question that he asked Peter—the same question I had been asked as a child. “Do you love me?” The question is a simple one, but I suspect it’s one of the few questions in life that really matter.
My mother and my father both loved Jesus, as did my grandparents. In fact, I don’t know how far back I’d have to go to find the ancestors who started this all—maybe there was some big revival in the Netherlands hundreds of years ago. But I do know that faith in Jesus has been part of my family for many generations in the past and hopefully well into the future. As a child, I often wondered how I got to be so “lucky”, to be raised in a household that believed what seemed to be all the right stuff. Later, that lucky feeling changed to doubts and questions; and now I just feel “blessed.”
The word “covenant” as it relates to faith is a comfort for some, and a problem for others. Before we had our oldest child baptized, our pastor explained it to us this way. Growing up in a Christian home is like being given a check. This check may be worth a lot of money, but it is only when you endorse it that it really has any value. So, as a child growing up in the presence of God’s covenant, I still had to claim Him for myself, which I did at age 15. For me, that involved publicly confessing my faith in my church.
Yes, there are advantages to belonging to God’s covenant, but there are no special guarantees. My oldest brother decided not to claim God’s promises in his life. (At this point we might think that “5 out of 6” isn’t bad—but that’s not how God sees it. We can’t forget the shepherd leaving the ninety nine to go after the one, can we?)
I know now that the heritage of faith, the sense of covenant in my home, has also been a source of envy to some. I’ve thought a lot about that lately. But then, I imagine the excitement of being called by God to be the first in a long line of believers, as Abraham was. Abraham went on an adventure that I could never imagine. God’s call and God’s promise always started with an individual. In my family it started years ago. In your family, could it be you? How exciting would that be? Some of us have taken our faith for granted for so many years. Often I’ve prayed “restore to me the joy of my salvation” so that my faith would never grow stale or mundane.
So, we all have our place here; seekers, first time believers, and those who trace an ancestry of faith that goes way back. I thank God for that rich heritage. I’ve done my best to pass it on to my children. Last weekend, as I held my tiny grandson, I sang quiet songs of praise on his behalf, and whispered prayers in his ears—prayers that he too would understand God’s covenant with him and would someday claim his place as God’s child.
“I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”
I sat quietly on the couch between my mom and dad. Since I was the youngest of five, this was my usual spot whenever the family was together. My brothers and sisters were all there as well, sitting in their designated places as we went through the frightening experience of “house visitation.” Two elders, or sometimes, (as in this case), an elder and the Pastor came to check on the spiritual well-being of each household within the church. My Pastor asked questions of everyone, right on down the line, and then he came to me. “Theda, do you love the Lord?” That was my question and I gave the answer he wanted when I squeaked out a “yes.”
Recently when I came to a Wednesday night prayer meeting, we were asked to sit in silence for what seemed to be a long time, and listen for God to speak to us. When I finally quieted my mind, I found myself, as Peter did, on the beach with Jesus. Jesus looked at me and asked me the same question that he asked Peter—the same question I had been asked as a child. “Do you love me?” The question is a simple one, but I suspect it’s one of the few questions in life that really matter.
My mother and my father both loved Jesus, as did my grandparents. In fact, I don’t know how far back I’d have to go to find the ancestors who started this all—maybe there was some big revival in the Netherlands hundreds of years ago. But I do know that faith in Jesus has been part of my family for many generations in the past and hopefully well into the future. As a child, I often wondered how I got to be so “lucky”, to be raised in a household that believed what seemed to be all the right stuff. Later, that lucky feeling changed to doubts and questions; and now I just feel “blessed.”
The word “covenant” as it relates to faith is a comfort for some, and a problem for others. Before we had our oldest child baptized, our pastor explained it to us this way. Growing up in a Christian home is like being given a check. This check may be worth a lot of money, but it is only when you endorse it that it really has any value. So, as a child growing up in the presence of God’s covenant, I still had to claim Him for myself, which I did at age 15. For me, that involved publicly confessing my faith in my church.
Yes, there are advantages to belonging to God’s covenant, but there are no special guarantees. My oldest brother decided not to claim God’s promises in his life. (At this point we might think that “5 out of 6” isn’t bad—but that’s not how God sees it. We can’t forget the shepherd leaving the ninety nine to go after the one, can we?)
I know now that the heritage of faith, the sense of covenant in my home, has also been a source of envy to some. I’ve thought a lot about that lately. But then, I imagine the excitement of being called by God to be the first in a long line of believers, as Abraham was. Abraham went on an adventure that I could never imagine. God’s call and God’s promise always started with an individual. In my family it started years ago. In your family, could it be you? How exciting would that be? Some of us have taken our faith for granted for so many years. Often I’ve prayed “restore to me the joy of my salvation” so that my faith would never grow stale or mundane.
So, we all have our place here; seekers, first time believers, and those who trace an ancestry of faith that goes way back. I thank God for that rich heritage. I’ve done my best to pass it on to my children. Last weekend, as I held my tiny grandson, I sang quiet songs of praise on his behalf, and whispered prayers in his ears—prayers that he too would understand God’s covenant with him and would someday claim his place as God’s child.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Redeemer
I know that my redeemer lives. Job 19:25
This is an excerpt from the book, The Sermons of Jonathan Edwards: A Reader edited by Wilson H. Kimnach, Kenneth P. Minkema & Douglas A Sweeney.
He that can say, “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” he knows that his Redeemer is above all things for him. If he be persecuted, he knows that his Redeemer is above his persecutors. If he be tempted by the devil, and he sees that the powers of hell rage against him, he knows that his Redeemer is above all the devils in hell, and that he is able to deliver him from their hands. He knows that his foundation is sure and his refuge strong, and that his Redeemer is round about him as the mountains were round about Jerusalem, and that his name is a strong tower, and his salvation that is appointed for his walls and bulwarks is as mountains of brass.
If he has affliction in the world, and is in the midst of storms, he knows that his Redeemer is above the storms of the world, and can restrain them and quell them when he pleases. ‘Tis but for him to say “Peace, be still,” and all ‘tis calm. If he be tossed like a vessel on the tempestuous sea, he knows that his Redeemer is in the ship, and therefore knows he can’t sink.
If death approaches with its most grim and ghastly countenance, yet he knows that his Redeemer is above death, and therefore is not terrified with it, but can look upon it with a calm, pleasant countenance and say, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” [I Cor. 15:55-56].
He that can say, “I know that me Redeemer liveth,” he knows that he loves him and pities him under all suffering. He knows that he has loved him from eternity, and he knows that he still loves him, and will love him, to eternity. He knows that he is the object of the free and unchangeable love of his Redeemer. . .
He that can say, “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” he knows that his Redeemer will fulfill his promises to him. He finds in his Word many great and precious promises, and they are precious to him; he is persuaded of them and embraces them.
He knows that he will never leave him nor forsake him. . .
(149-150)
As long as the saints are at a loss whether Christ is their Redeemer or no, it tends to make ‘em afraid to take comfort. When they meet with texts of Scripture that hold forth the wonderful mercy and love of Christ to believers, they will be afraid to take the comfort of them, lest they should take that to themselves that don’t belong to ‘em. And if they do sometimes allow themselves to take comfort in them, then it [is] with restraint and fear, lest they do what they have no warrant for. They dare not so much as give God thanks for giving them an interest in Christ, though that be so much the greatest mercy that ever they received, for fear they should give God thanks for a mercy they never received. . .
(152)
. . . For what can be more joyful to a man than to know that he is safe from the dreadful eternal destruction that the greater part of the world are exposed to, to know that he is out of the reach of the sting of death and the power of hell, to know that there is a glorious almighty God, and this God is his God; to know that Christ is the judge of heaven and earth, and yet to know that He is the Redeemer; to know that there is a day of judgment, and also to know that they shall stand at the right hand of Christ; to know that there is a heaven of eternal glory, and to know that this is a kingdom prepared for them; to know that God has loved ‘em before the foundation of the world, that their names were written on Christ’s heart then, and that he died out of love to them and will love them to eternity?
(154)
Do you know that the Redeemer lives?
This is an excerpt from the book, The Sermons of Jonathan Edwards: A Reader edited by Wilson H. Kimnach, Kenneth P. Minkema & Douglas A Sweeney.
He that can say, “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” he knows that his Redeemer is above all things for him. If he be persecuted, he knows that his Redeemer is above his persecutors. If he be tempted by the devil, and he sees that the powers of hell rage against him, he knows that his Redeemer is above all the devils in hell, and that he is able to deliver him from their hands. He knows that his foundation is sure and his refuge strong, and that his Redeemer is round about him as the mountains were round about Jerusalem, and that his name is a strong tower, and his salvation that is appointed for his walls and bulwarks is as mountains of brass.
If he has affliction in the world, and is in the midst of storms, he knows that his Redeemer is above the storms of the world, and can restrain them and quell them when he pleases. ‘Tis but for him to say “Peace, be still,” and all ‘tis calm. If he be tossed like a vessel on the tempestuous sea, he knows that his Redeemer is in the ship, and therefore knows he can’t sink.
If death approaches with its most grim and ghastly countenance, yet he knows that his Redeemer is above death, and therefore is not terrified with it, but can look upon it with a calm, pleasant countenance and say, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” [I Cor. 15:55-56].
He that can say, “I know that me Redeemer liveth,” he knows that he loves him and pities him under all suffering. He knows that he has loved him from eternity, and he knows that he still loves him, and will love him, to eternity. He knows that he is the object of the free and unchangeable love of his Redeemer. . .
He that can say, “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” he knows that his Redeemer will fulfill his promises to him. He finds in his Word many great and precious promises, and they are precious to him; he is persuaded of them and embraces them.
He knows that he will never leave him nor forsake him. . .
(149-150)
As long as the saints are at a loss whether Christ is their Redeemer or no, it tends to make ‘em afraid to take comfort. When they meet with texts of Scripture that hold forth the wonderful mercy and love of Christ to believers, they will be afraid to take the comfort of them, lest they should take that to themselves that don’t belong to ‘em. And if they do sometimes allow themselves to take comfort in them, then it [is] with restraint and fear, lest they do what they have no warrant for. They dare not so much as give God thanks for giving them an interest in Christ, though that be so much the greatest mercy that ever they received, for fear they should give God thanks for a mercy they never received. . .
(152)
. . . For what can be more joyful to a man than to know that he is safe from the dreadful eternal destruction that the greater part of the world are exposed to, to know that he is out of the reach of the sting of death and the power of hell, to know that there is a glorious almighty God, and this God is his God; to know that Christ is the judge of heaven and earth, and yet to know that He is the Redeemer; to know that there is a day of judgment, and also to know that they shall stand at the right hand of Christ; to know that there is a heaven of eternal glory, and to know that this is a kingdom prepared for them; to know that God has loved ‘em before the foundation of the world, that their names were written on Christ’s heart then, and that he died out of love to them and will love them to eternity?
(154)
Do you know that the Redeemer lives?
Commitment
Once again, I find myself drawn to the words from the devotional Disciplines for an Inner Life by Bob & Michael Benson. It is a difficult book to find.
This abandonment is the very heart and essence of Christian prayer, and it has nothing in common with strategy and second-guessing. It is the pray-to-win mentality turned inside out, and yet it is not a pray-to-lose mentality. It is the prayer that has moved beyond intending, directing, steering, second-guessing God. It is the dancer moving completely in the rhythm of the partner, prayer that is utterly freeing because it is completely at one. Utterly beyond asking, beyond the anger that rattles heaven’s gate. Prayer that does not plead, wants nothing for itself but what God wants, it is the will-not-to-will, rooted in grace, that makes it possible to be abandoned, free, and then (by some further miracle) able to act with a semblance of coherence and freedom even when completely surrendered to and possessed by the loving will of God.
And it is this abandonment that is meant when we are told to drop our nets and follow him; to pause not to bury our dead fathers or tell our wives we will be traveling for a while; it is in this abandonment that we sell all.
- From Clinging – An Experience of Prayer by Emilie Griffin
Much depends upon making up your mind. The nature of the human animal, as you well know, is subject to suggestion; the feeling-nature, when left to human devices, is unprotected, easily dismayed, elated, bored, irritated. The mind is moved by noises, cold, heat, stupidities, a letter, the disloyalty of a friend. But when the mind is made up, all these challenges can be divinely met; you are not defenseless. You are only defenseless when you are spiritually asleep. Bring into focus your godhood, your divine manhood by saying, “I make up my mind to be in the light of faith always, while I talk to people, while I walk, while I eat, Wherever I go, into every house. I will use it against all alarms, I will dwell in his eternal patience, in God’s name I will be reborn!”
- From Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood, edited by Mary Strong
The battle is lost or won in the secret places of the will before God, never first in the external world. The Spirit of God apprehends me and I am obliged to get alone with God and fight the battle out before Him. Until this is done, I lose every time. The battle make take one minute or a year, that will depend on me, not on God; but it must be wrestled out alone before God, and I must resolutely go through the hell of renunciation before God. Nothing has any power over the man who has fought out the battle before God and won there.
If I say, “I will wait till I get into the circumstances and then put God to the test,” I shall find I cannot. I must get the thing settled between myself and God in the secret places of my soul where no stranger intermeddles, and then I can go forth with the certainty that the battle is won. Lose it there, and calamity and disaster and upset are sure as God’s decree. The reason the battle is not won is because I try to win it in the external world first. Get alone with God, fight it out before Him, settle the matter there once and for all.
In dealing with other people, the line to take is to push them to an issue of will. That is the way abandonment begins. Every now and again, not often, but sometimes, God brings us to a point of climax. That is the Great Divide in the life; from that point we either go towards a more and more dilatory and useless type of Christian life, or we become more and more ablaze for the glory of God.
- From My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers
This abandonment is the very heart and essence of Christian prayer, and it has nothing in common with strategy and second-guessing. It is the pray-to-win mentality turned inside out, and yet it is not a pray-to-lose mentality. It is the prayer that has moved beyond intending, directing, steering, second-guessing God. It is the dancer moving completely in the rhythm of the partner, prayer that is utterly freeing because it is completely at one. Utterly beyond asking, beyond the anger that rattles heaven’s gate. Prayer that does not plead, wants nothing for itself but what God wants, it is the will-not-to-will, rooted in grace, that makes it possible to be abandoned, free, and then (by some further miracle) able to act with a semblance of coherence and freedom even when completely surrendered to and possessed by the loving will of God.
And it is this abandonment that is meant when we are told to drop our nets and follow him; to pause not to bury our dead fathers or tell our wives we will be traveling for a while; it is in this abandonment that we sell all.
- From Clinging – An Experience of Prayer by Emilie Griffin
Much depends upon making up your mind. The nature of the human animal, as you well know, is subject to suggestion; the feeling-nature, when left to human devices, is unprotected, easily dismayed, elated, bored, irritated. The mind is moved by noises, cold, heat, stupidities, a letter, the disloyalty of a friend. But when the mind is made up, all these challenges can be divinely met; you are not defenseless. You are only defenseless when you are spiritually asleep. Bring into focus your godhood, your divine manhood by saying, “I make up my mind to be in the light of faith always, while I talk to people, while I walk, while I eat, Wherever I go, into every house. I will use it against all alarms, I will dwell in his eternal patience, in God’s name I will be reborn!”
- From Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood, edited by Mary Strong
The battle is lost or won in the secret places of the will before God, never first in the external world. The Spirit of God apprehends me and I am obliged to get alone with God and fight the battle out before Him. Until this is done, I lose every time. The battle make take one minute or a year, that will depend on me, not on God; but it must be wrestled out alone before God, and I must resolutely go through the hell of renunciation before God. Nothing has any power over the man who has fought out the battle before God and won there.
If I say, “I will wait till I get into the circumstances and then put God to the test,” I shall find I cannot. I must get the thing settled between myself and God in the secret places of my soul where no stranger intermeddles, and then I can go forth with the certainty that the battle is won. Lose it there, and calamity and disaster and upset are sure as God’s decree. The reason the battle is not won is because I try to win it in the external world first. Get alone with God, fight it out before Him, settle the matter there once and for all.
In dealing with other people, the line to take is to push them to an issue of will. That is the way abandonment begins. Every now and again, not often, but sometimes, God brings us to a point of climax. That is the Great Divide in the life; from that point we either go towards a more and more dilatory and useless type of Christian life, or we become more and more ablaze for the glory of God.
- From My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers
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