The main issue I have found in parenting is not trying to get my pre-teen to come out of their zombie state and do chores. It has not been trying to get my toddler to listen or in dealing with her new desire to wait till the last minute to go to the bathroom. No, the main issue I have in parenting is dealing with my own sin. And I'm specifically speaking of the sin of anger. As a father, I not only need to protect my children from the world, the devil, and their own sin, but the first order of business is protecting them from my sin.
It's very simple in the process of reprimanding our children for it to revert to anger and yelling. After the third, fourth, or more times of repeating ourselves, a calm response is hard to come by. There are two verses in particular that come to mind when I'm faced with this problem. One is Colossians 3:21: “Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.” The other is Ephesians 6:4: “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.”
What does it mean not to provoke our children? Colossians 3:21 has a more general provoking in view, as in simply to stir up, by one’s action, an emotion in someone else, and in this context, it’s plainly negative. “Do not stir up your children, lest they become discouraged” is to stir them up in an unhelpful, even sinful, way by sinning against them. It is misuse and abuse, in greater or lesser degree, of a father’s God-given role in the lives of his children. When we get angry and yell we are sinning against our children and showing them extreme emotion in resolving issues.
Ephesians 6:4, then, more specifically mentions provoking to anger. It is a warning against sinful fathers unjustly provoking their vulnerable children to (at least what begins as) righteous anger. Implications for fathers (and mothers with them), then, begin to become clear. We should not give our children any good reason to be angry. They may indeed get angry with us, as all sinners lash out against God’s own authority manifest in his appointees, but the charge to parents is not to give our children any just reason to be angry with us. And responding with anger and yelling the majority of the time is giving them just reason to respond in anger.
In other words, we should not sin against them, but treat them with Christian virtue; with as much kindness and respect as we treat any fellow adult in our lives, whether at work or at church or in the neighborhood. Having them as our children, instructed by the Lord to obey us, is patently no excuse for sinning against them. If anything, it is all the more reason to pursue every means possible, with God’s help, to treat them with the utmost Christian kindness and respect. We may even go so far as to say that our children, of all people, should be the ones we treat best, given their vulnerability and our vocation as parents, not the ones we treat worst. Which is a sobering calling. Sadly, the members of our own household are often the recipients of our poorest treatment. A wife is often the witness, and object, of her husband’s most unfiltered words and actions, and the children can be an even more troubling target. There’s more accountability and parity with a spouse who is a fellow adult, with more recourse for help, but children are in an especially defenseless situation.
So, Paul’s charge, general and specific, not to provoke our children, is in essence a penetrating warning not to abuse the remarkable stewardship God has given parents for the nurturing of their children. It is especially wicked to sin against our children, because they are our children and the very essence of our relationship with them is for their good and not their harm. The wakeup call for parents, and for fathers in particular; is that we are sinners too, adult sinners, and our sins have even greater repercussions than the missteps of our children, and tragically our children are frequently the victims of the dragon still within us. It’s not as if we’re sinners only in our relationships with other adults, and above the law when parenting our children. We are sinners in every facet, and often most dangerously so in our parenting.
Parenting is not first and foremost about our children’s sins. It is first about ours. Yes, our children are in need of our gentleness and careful attention to help remove the childhood specks from their eyes. And we first, and continually, need to remove the adult logs from ours, so we can genuinely help our children, and not harm them. Even more important than the work God is doing through us in parenting is the work he is doing in us while parenting. Even more, the work he is doing in us in this season of life is vital to our being a vessel of his work for our children.
"To live with Jesus is to live with the poor. To live with the poor is to live with Jesus."
True Change Ministries
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Our Face Reveals Our Heart
The cold dark prison cell was crowded with Romanian Christians who were determined to bring the light of Jesus into the darkness. One of these prisoners was a Jewish believer named Milan Haimovici.
One day, Milan began a discussion with another cell mate who was a great scientist but a godless man. Milan was not of the same intellectual and cultural level as the professor, but he told him about Jesus.The professor scorned him, "You are such a liar. Jesus lived two thousand years ago. How can you say that you walk and talk with him?"
Milan replied, "It is true that he died two thousand years ago, but he is also resurrected and is living even now." Then the professor challenged Milan, "Well, you say that he talks with you. What is the expression on his face?" Milan answered, "Sometimes he smiles at me."
"Such a lie," the professor laughed. "Show me how he smiles." Milan graciously conceded. He was only skin and bones, with dark circles around his eyes. He was missing teeth and was wearing a prisoner's uniform, but such a beautiful smile appeared on his lips. His dirty face shone. There was so much peace, so much contentment, and so much joy on his face. The godless professor bowed his head and admitted, "Sir you have seen Jesus."
A smile is a natural human expression of confidence, peace, and contentment. A smile during pain and suffering and even agony can give supernatural evidence of God. If Jesus Christ, God's own Son, is really living in our hearts, then some of us need to inform our faces of the good news! In church, we sometimes sing hymns like funeral dirges, our thoughts a thousand miles away from our words.
You would think that with knowing that He is alive, and that we are forgiven would provoke an instant joy in our heart. However, most of us are brought down by our daily worries, problems and tragedies. We should be smiling and glowing as we walk through our day. There is no worry, no problem, or no tragedy that should bring us down. There are three simple words to remember when our daily issues arise. And that is, "It Is Won!" The race has already been won! There is nothing that can stop you. We need to live life like it's already been conquered; because it has. Christ finished the race for us all. Now go live a life of completion and not defeat.
So what does your face reveal about your relationship with Jesus? Are you a witness to others who pass you by on the street? Do you attest to Christ's contentment in your heart? Or is your brow furrowed with worry and your lips constantly pursed? Ask God to help you be aware of your silent message and to fill you with his joy.
One day, Milan began a discussion with another cell mate who was a great scientist but a godless man. Milan was not of the same intellectual and cultural level as the professor, but he told him about Jesus.The professor scorned him, "You are such a liar. Jesus lived two thousand years ago. How can you say that you walk and talk with him?"
Milan replied, "It is true that he died two thousand years ago, but he is also resurrected and is living even now." Then the professor challenged Milan, "Well, you say that he talks with you. What is the expression on his face?" Milan answered, "Sometimes he smiles at me."
"Such a lie," the professor laughed. "Show me how he smiles." Milan graciously conceded. He was only skin and bones, with dark circles around his eyes. He was missing teeth and was wearing a prisoner's uniform, but such a beautiful smile appeared on his lips. His dirty face shone. There was so much peace, so much contentment, and so much joy on his face. The godless professor bowed his head and admitted, "Sir you have seen Jesus."
A smile is a natural human expression of confidence, peace, and contentment. A smile during pain and suffering and even agony can give supernatural evidence of God. If Jesus Christ, God's own Son, is really living in our hearts, then some of us need to inform our faces of the good news! In church, we sometimes sing hymns like funeral dirges, our thoughts a thousand miles away from our words.
You would think that with knowing that He is alive, and that we are forgiven would provoke an instant joy in our heart. However, most of us are brought down by our daily worries, problems and tragedies. We should be smiling and glowing as we walk through our day. There is no worry, no problem, or no tragedy that should bring us down. There are three simple words to remember when our daily issues arise. And that is, "It Is Won!" The race has already been won! There is nothing that can stop you. We need to live life like it's already been conquered; because it has. Christ finished the race for us all. Now go live a life of completion and not defeat.
So what does your face reveal about your relationship with Jesus? Are you a witness to others who pass you by on the street? Do you attest to Christ's contentment in your heart? Or is your brow furrowed with worry and your lips constantly pursed? Ask God to help you be aware of your silent message and to fill you with his joy.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Do We Have To Be Asked?
"Are you a Christian?" Three times the question was asked. Three times the answer was, "Yes." Three Christians were martyred. The Roman ruler Urbicus had no tolerance for Christians in A.D. 150.
Ptolemaeus had been accused of teaching that salvation comes through faith in Jesus Christ alone. He hated the deceit and ungodliness of the day. Therefore when Urbicus asked if he was a Christian, he could not lie. He had to stand for righteousness and boldly answer, "Yes." For this he was put in chains and beaten many times.
Again he was brought before Urbicus. Again he was only asked one question, "Are you a Christian?" Pain and suffering could not change reality. "Yes," Ptolemaeus answered again. Hearing of Ptolemaeus' arrests, an elderly man approached Urbicus and pleaded for his soul. "Why would you execute such a fine teacher? What benefit does it serve you or the emperor? He has broken no laws. He has only confessed to being a Christian."
Intrigued by the man's defense, he asked a single question. "Are you also a Christian?" The elderly man courageously stood his ground, "Yes I am." "Then you may join the teacher." If this was not enough, another man came forward with the same protest. Again the question was asked, "Are you a Christian?" The three children of God were executed for answering, "Yes."
The question is simple enough. "Are you a Christian?" It's direct. It's personal. It's a yes or no point of truth. Then what is difficult about the answer? The problem is not that Christians don't know how to answer. The real problem is that others aren't asking us the question often enough. We don't live in such a distinct way that anyone thinks to ask what is different about our lives. We must admit far too few people are asking us the question asked of Ptolemaeus. That is the real problem.
When is the last time your lifestyle piqued the interest of your coworker, friend, or neighbor enough for them to inquire about your faith? Jesus said in Matthew 5:13-16- “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet. “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that[a] they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.
Saying it means nothing without showing it. The life of a Christian is worthless if their life doesn't shine with the light of Christ. God's love and light should shine from our lives like a lighthouse beacon to the lost of this world. Without the light, you and those around you will crash into the jagged rocks. You know the answer, now live so that others will ask the question.
Ptolemaeus had been accused of teaching that salvation comes through faith in Jesus Christ alone. He hated the deceit and ungodliness of the day. Therefore when Urbicus asked if he was a Christian, he could not lie. He had to stand for righteousness and boldly answer, "Yes." For this he was put in chains and beaten many times.
Again he was brought before Urbicus. Again he was only asked one question, "Are you a Christian?" Pain and suffering could not change reality. "Yes," Ptolemaeus answered again. Hearing of Ptolemaeus' arrests, an elderly man approached Urbicus and pleaded for his soul. "Why would you execute such a fine teacher? What benefit does it serve you or the emperor? He has broken no laws. He has only confessed to being a Christian."
Intrigued by the man's defense, he asked a single question. "Are you also a Christian?" The elderly man courageously stood his ground, "Yes I am." "Then you may join the teacher." If this was not enough, another man came forward with the same protest. Again the question was asked, "Are you a Christian?" The three children of God were executed for answering, "Yes."
The question is simple enough. "Are you a Christian?" It's direct. It's personal. It's a yes or no point of truth. Then what is difficult about the answer? The problem is not that Christians don't know how to answer. The real problem is that others aren't asking us the question often enough. We don't live in such a distinct way that anyone thinks to ask what is different about our lives. We must admit far too few people are asking us the question asked of Ptolemaeus. That is the real problem.
When is the last time your lifestyle piqued the interest of your coworker, friend, or neighbor enough for them to inquire about your faith? Jesus said in Matthew 5:13-16- “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet. “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that[a] they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.
Saying it means nothing without showing it. The life of a Christian is worthless if their life doesn't shine with the light of Christ. God's love and light should shine from our lives like a lighthouse beacon to the lost of this world. Without the light, you and those around you will crash into the jagged rocks. You know the answer, now live so that others will ask the question.
Sunday, July 22, 2018
Bored Of Life
Summer is almost over and parents here in America know this as the season of boredom. The novelty of summer has worn off. Many fun things that were anticipated during the school year, have already been enjoyed. Free time has become routine. Our kids inform us that there’s “nothing” to do. This causes parental eye-rolls with statements to the effect, “We wish we had the luxury to be bored.”
But the truth is, we experience boredom too. It’s just that in our phase of life, boredom doesn’t take the form of “there’s nothing to do.” We have a constant never-ending list of responsibilities, obligations, tasks, and commitments. There’s always more to do than we can get done. Our boredom takes the form of a loss of joy.
Whatever boredom looks like at any particular moment, we need to pay attention to it. It’s telling us something important. What is boredom? Boredom is the condition of finding something or someone or some subject or some task or some event or perhaps most everything uninteresting. For example, when one of my kids says, “I’m bored; there’s nothing to do,” they don’t literally mean there’s nothing to do. They mean, “I can’t think of anything to do that interests me.” Which is why they tend not to make this statement to me because they know I’m likely to provide them something to do. Which will be something they’re not particularly interested in doing. This is why we can be very busy and very bored at the same time. Because boredom is not the opposite of busyness; it’s the opposite of interest.
You won't find the word “bored” in your English Bible. But you will find words like “slothful”, “sluggard”, “lazy”, and “idle”, and the Bible makes it clear that these are sinful character traits. So, is being bored the same thing as being slothful, sluggard, lazy, or idle? Not necessarily. There are many reasons we might feel a loss of joy: sleep deprivation, illness malaise, depression, grief, disappointment, etc. But it might be a momentary indulgence in slothfulness, or it might even be slothfulness wearing boredom as a disguise. The degree to which it’s sinful depends on what’s fueling it. But everyone experiences boredom with some regularity and, though we find it unpleasant, it doesn’t typically alarm us. But we think of “slothful” or “lazy” as something different, It's a habitual negative character trait which we would not attribute to everyone and which we see as damaging, even dangerous to the lazy person and those they affect. For example, a worker might be bored in his work, yet still work diligently. But a worker who’s lazy will work negligently, to the detriment of everyone else. A lazy person very rarely is honest enough to categorize himself as lazy and is more likely to refer to his experience as being “bored”. This shows that boredom doesn’t carry the same negative moral implications as laziness, at least in American society. But it’s just laziness wearing boredom as a disguise.
The point is we need an accurate diagnosis in order to effectively treat a disease. Boredom and laziness are not necessarily the same problem. We need to understand what boredom is telling us so we don’t fight boredom with the wrong treatment. So, what is boredom telling us? When we feel bored, we are essentially asking the question, “Where’s the joy?” Boredom is what our hunger for happiness feels like when we’ve momentarily lost sight of or confidence in what will satisfy it. And as such, it is a warning and an invitation. Think of boredom as a dashboard warning indicator that starts dinging. Something has caused your interest level to run low and it’s draining your joy. What is it? Perhaps it’s a physical or emotional health issue that needs care. Perhaps you’re being tempted to indulge laziness. Or perhaps, even more seriously, you’re indulging an idol of selfishness and you’re trying to drink from “broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jeremiah 2:13).
One of the great, appalling tragedies of selfishness is that the more we yield to it, the less capacity we have to enjoy anything else. Anything other than what we believe caters to our narrow personal preferences, enhances our personal reputations, and advances our personal interests. Whatever is making our boredom indicator ding, it is God’s merciful warning that something important requires our attention. But we can also think of boredom as God’s gracious invitation for us to explore and discover the spectrum of joy in the love for us that he has laced through the height and depth and length and breadth of his special and general revelation. If boredom is an expression of our happiness hunger, God extends to us this great invite: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1–2)
G.K. Chesterton said, “There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person”. When we feel disinterested, and it’s not a health issue or a more complex sin issue, we should not believe the deceptive mood that we’ve exhausted what interests us. We should assume we’re mentally and imaginatively out of shape, and we need to work out some more. The Bible is an inexhaustible treasure trove of truth, and the world and people around you are unfathomable oceans of wonder that God has given you to explore. Let boredom tell you the same thing that getting too winded on too few stairs tells you: you need to increase your capacity. Yes, it will take some hard work. Everything that’s worth anything always does.
Listen carefully to your boredom. It’s telling you something important. It’s a hunger for happiness. Don’t just feed it the junk food of easy entertainment and stimulation or the malnourished diet of selfish pursuits; unless slothfulness, chronic discontentment, and spiritual lukewarmness is what you’re aiming for. If you heed boredom’s warning, it will show you your broken joy cisterns. If you accept its invitation, it will lead you to where the true fountains of joy are found.
But the truth is, we experience boredom too. It’s just that in our phase of life, boredom doesn’t take the form of “there’s nothing to do.” We have a constant never-ending list of responsibilities, obligations, tasks, and commitments. There’s always more to do than we can get done. Our boredom takes the form of a loss of joy.
Whatever boredom looks like at any particular moment, we need to pay attention to it. It’s telling us something important. What is boredom? Boredom is the condition of finding something or someone or some subject or some task or some event or perhaps most everything uninteresting. For example, when one of my kids says, “I’m bored; there’s nothing to do,” they don’t literally mean there’s nothing to do. They mean, “I can’t think of anything to do that interests me.” Which is why they tend not to make this statement to me because they know I’m likely to provide them something to do. Which will be something they’re not particularly interested in doing. This is why we can be very busy and very bored at the same time. Because boredom is not the opposite of busyness; it’s the opposite of interest.
You won't find the word “bored” in your English Bible. But you will find words like “slothful”, “sluggard”, “lazy”, and “idle”, and the Bible makes it clear that these are sinful character traits. So, is being bored the same thing as being slothful, sluggard, lazy, or idle? Not necessarily. There are many reasons we might feel a loss of joy: sleep deprivation, illness malaise, depression, grief, disappointment, etc. But it might be a momentary indulgence in slothfulness, or it might even be slothfulness wearing boredom as a disguise. The degree to which it’s sinful depends on what’s fueling it. But everyone experiences boredom with some regularity and, though we find it unpleasant, it doesn’t typically alarm us. But we think of “slothful” or “lazy” as something different, It's a habitual negative character trait which we would not attribute to everyone and which we see as damaging, even dangerous to the lazy person and those they affect. For example, a worker might be bored in his work, yet still work diligently. But a worker who’s lazy will work negligently, to the detriment of everyone else. A lazy person very rarely is honest enough to categorize himself as lazy and is more likely to refer to his experience as being “bored”. This shows that boredom doesn’t carry the same negative moral implications as laziness, at least in American society. But it’s just laziness wearing boredom as a disguise.
The point is we need an accurate diagnosis in order to effectively treat a disease. Boredom and laziness are not necessarily the same problem. We need to understand what boredom is telling us so we don’t fight boredom with the wrong treatment. So, what is boredom telling us? When we feel bored, we are essentially asking the question, “Where’s the joy?” Boredom is what our hunger for happiness feels like when we’ve momentarily lost sight of or confidence in what will satisfy it. And as such, it is a warning and an invitation. Think of boredom as a dashboard warning indicator that starts dinging. Something has caused your interest level to run low and it’s draining your joy. What is it? Perhaps it’s a physical or emotional health issue that needs care. Perhaps you’re being tempted to indulge laziness. Or perhaps, even more seriously, you’re indulging an idol of selfishness and you’re trying to drink from “broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jeremiah 2:13).
One of the great, appalling tragedies of selfishness is that the more we yield to it, the less capacity we have to enjoy anything else. Anything other than what we believe caters to our narrow personal preferences, enhances our personal reputations, and advances our personal interests. Whatever is making our boredom indicator ding, it is God’s merciful warning that something important requires our attention. But we can also think of boredom as God’s gracious invitation for us to explore and discover the spectrum of joy in the love for us that he has laced through the height and depth and length and breadth of his special and general revelation. If boredom is an expression of our happiness hunger, God extends to us this great invite: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1–2)
G.K. Chesterton said, “There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person”. When we feel disinterested, and it’s not a health issue or a more complex sin issue, we should not believe the deceptive mood that we’ve exhausted what interests us. We should assume we’re mentally and imaginatively out of shape, and we need to work out some more. The Bible is an inexhaustible treasure trove of truth, and the world and people around you are unfathomable oceans of wonder that God has given you to explore. Let boredom tell you the same thing that getting too winded on too few stairs tells you: you need to increase your capacity. Yes, it will take some hard work. Everything that’s worth anything always does.
Listen carefully to your boredom. It’s telling you something important. It’s a hunger for happiness. Don’t just feed it the junk food of easy entertainment and stimulation or the malnourished diet of selfish pursuits; unless slothfulness, chronic discontentment, and spiritual lukewarmness is what you’re aiming for. If you heed boredom’s warning, it will show you your broken joy cisterns. If you accept its invitation, it will lead you to where the true fountains of joy are found.
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Your Focus Depends On Your Heart
Dumitru Bacu was a Christian prisoner during the 1950's and 1960's. Like so many others, his crime was simply being a Christian. Dumitru used his twenty years in prison to compose poetry of love to God. The poems were carefully written in small bars of soap or tapped through the walls in Morse code so that others could learn and pass them from cell to cell.
"The pain which weakened our bodies were not able to master our hearts," Bacu said after his release. "Instead of hate, we cultivated love, understanding, and wisdom." Here is one of his poems, composed in solitary confinement in a cell infested with rats, bedbugs, and lice.
Jesus appeared in my cell last night; He was tall; he was sad, but oh he was light. The moonbeams I treasured grew suddenly dim as, startled and happy, I looked upon him.He came and he stood by the mat where I tossed and silently showed what his sufferings cost.The scars were all there, in his hands and his feet, and a wound in his side where his heart did beat. He smiled, and was gone. And I fell on the stone and cried out, "Dear Jesus, don't leave me alone." Clutching the bars, I was pierced through the palms; blessed gift, blessed scars.
A dingy prison cell and the loss of basic freedoms aren't usually the stuff of poetic inspiration. Dumitru was able to turn his sufferings into opportunities to praise God and impact other people's lives for Christ. His sufferings paled to him when he considered what Christ had suffered on his behalf. Experiencing what Dumitru faced, many believers would feel frustrated or insulted, not inspired. Some would doubt that God cared about them at all. Composing lines of poetic praise to God would be about the farthest thing from their minds. Yet Dumitru focused on Christ instead of his cell, and he was filled with praise.
How do you react in times of suffering? When you are called to suffer, will you see obstacles to your happiness or opportunities to praise and serve God?
"The pain which weakened our bodies were not able to master our hearts," Bacu said after his release. "Instead of hate, we cultivated love, understanding, and wisdom." Here is one of his poems, composed in solitary confinement in a cell infested with rats, bedbugs, and lice.
Jesus appeared in my cell last night; He was tall; he was sad, but oh he was light. The moonbeams I treasured grew suddenly dim as, startled and happy, I looked upon him.He came and he stood by the mat where I tossed and silently showed what his sufferings cost.The scars were all there, in his hands and his feet, and a wound in his side where his heart did beat. He smiled, and was gone. And I fell on the stone and cried out, "Dear Jesus, don't leave me alone." Clutching the bars, I was pierced through the palms; blessed gift, blessed scars.
A dingy prison cell and the loss of basic freedoms aren't usually the stuff of poetic inspiration. Dumitru was able to turn his sufferings into opportunities to praise God and impact other people's lives for Christ. His sufferings paled to him when he considered what Christ had suffered on his behalf. Experiencing what Dumitru faced, many believers would feel frustrated or insulted, not inspired. Some would doubt that God cared about them at all. Composing lines of poetic praise to God would be about the farthest thing from their minds. Yet Dumitru focused on Christ instead of his cell, and he was filled with praise.
How do you react in times of suffering? When you are called to suffer, will you see obstacles to your happiness or opportunities to praise and serve God?
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Why Did Judas Carry The Moneybag?
Jesus put a thief in charge of his moneybag. Has that ever struck you as odd? Mary poured a year’s wages on Jesus’s feet, and Judas, saw Mary’s worshipful act as a huge waste, because “he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it” (John 12:6). But this fact raises the question: Why was Judas carrying the moneybag in the first place?
Jesus could have given the moneybag to Nathaniel, “an Israelite indeed, in whom there [was] no deceit” (John 1:47), or to John, “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 21:20), or to Levi, who had extensive financial experience (Luke 5:27). But he didn’t. Jesus chose Judas to be the treasurer of his itinerant nonprofit. One is tempted to offer the Lord some consulting on good stewardship. Donors were supporting this ministry financially (Luke 8:3), and Jesus appointed the one guy he knew was a “devil” (John 6:70) to manage the money. But this was not poor judgment on Jesus’s part. It was deliberate; Jesus knew Judas was pilfering. Why did Jesus allow it? I believe Jesus was putting his money where his mouth was.
Jesus had said, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where . . . thieves break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19–20). In letting Judas carry the moneybag, Jesus showed us by example what he meant. Jesus said, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). In Judas, Jesus showed us the heart-hardening, heart-blinding, heartbreaking end of treasuring the wrong thing.
And Jesus had said, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money” (Matthew 6:24). In Judas, Jesus showed us an alarming example of what loving money and hating God can look like. Shockingly, for quite a while loving money and hating God can actually look to others like devotion to God. This is what is unnerving about Judas.
For a long time, Judas’s reputation was as a student and close companion of Jesus. Judas lived with Jesus and the other eleven disciples for the better part of three years. He traveled long, dusty roads with these missionary comrades. He ate with them, sat around evening fires with them talking about the kingdom of God, and he prayed with them. He heard more of Jesus’s sermons than almost anybody. He received personal instruction from Jesus. He witnessed Jesus’s incredible miracles and saw the Father provide for their needs over and over again. All during the time Judas was part of the Twelve, he mostly said and outwardly performed the right things. It’s astonishing that none of Judas’s fellow disciples perceived his deceitfulness. Even when Jesus finally sent Judas off to carry out his betrayal, the others didn’t seem to suspect him (John 13:28–29). It was a stunning and grievous blow to them all when in the end he sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver (Matthew 26:15).
Judas’s masquerade is a lesson for us. Wolves can look and sound almost exactly like sheep. And sometimes Jesus, for his own reasons, allows the disguised wolves to live among the sheep for a long time and do great damage before their deception is exposed. When this happens, we must trust that the Lord knows what he’s doing. Judas reminds us that even ravaging wolves have a part to play in the drama of redemptive history. But in knowingly giving dishonest Judas the moneybag, Jesus specifically modeled for us where not to put our trust: money. Jesus trusted his Father, not money, to provide everything he needed to fulfill his calling. He slept in peace every night, knowing that Judas was embezzling. Judas, on the other hand, became the archetypal model of 1 Timothy 6:10: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.” In Judas’s example, Jesus warns us that the love of money can be so deceptive that we can wander to the point where we are willing to sell eternal Treasure for a handful of coins. The seductive power of wealth must make us tremble.
Not all parts of this story have direct application for us. Jesus doesn’t intend for us to follow his example in appointing thieves as treasurers. Only God is wise enough to do that. But Jesus does intend for us to follow his example in seeking the kingdom first, believing that all we need will be given to us by our Father (Matthew 6:33). His word to us is “fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). Our Father can easily out-give what any thief can steal.
Jesus could have given the moneybag to Nathaniel, “an Israelite indeed, in whom there [was] no deceit” (John 1:47), or to John, “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 21:20), or to Levi, who had extensive financial experience (Luke 5:27). But he didn’t. Jesus chose Judas to be the treasurer of his itinerant nonprofit. One is tempted to offer the Lord some consulting on good stewardship. Donors were supporting this ministry financially (Luke 8:3), and Jesus appointed the one guy he knew was a “devil” (John 6:70) to manage the money. But this was not poor judgment on Jesus’s part. It was deliberate; Jesus knew Judas was pilfering. Why did Jesus allow it? I believe Jesus was putting his money where his mouth was.
Jesus had said, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where . . . thieves break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19–20). In letting Judas carry the moneybag, Jesus showed us by example what he meant. Jesus said, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). In Judas, Jesus showed us the heart-hardening, heart-blinding, heartbreaking end of treasuring the wrong thing.
And Jesus had said, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money” (Matthew 6:24). In Judas, Jesus showed us an alarming example of what loving money and hating God can look like. Shockingly, for quite a while loving money and hating God can actually look to others like devotion to God. This is what is unnerving about Judas.
For a long time, Judas’s reputation was as a student and close companion of Jesus. Judas lived with Jesus and the other eleven disciples for the better part of three years. He traveled long, dusty roads with these missionary comrades. He ate with them, sat around evening fires with them talking about the kingdom of God, and he prayed with them. He heard more of Jesus’s sermons than almost anybody. He received personal instruction from Jesus. He witnessed Jesus’s incredible miracles and saw the Father provide for their needs over and over again. All during the time Judas was part of the Twelve, he mostly said and outwardly performed the right things. It’s astonishing that none of Judas’s fellow disciples perceived his deceitfulness. Even when Jesus finally sent Judas off to carry out his betrayal, the others didn’t seem to suspect him (John 13:28–29). It was a stunning and grievous blow to them all when in the end he sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver (Matthew 26:15).
Judas’s masquerade is a lesson for us. Wolves can look and sound almost exactly like sheep. And sometimes Jesus, for his own reasons, allows the disguised wolves to live among the sheep for a long time and do great damage before their deception is exposed. When this happens, we must trust that the Lord knows what he’s doing. Judas reminds us that even ravaging wolves have a part to play in the drama of redemptive history. But in knowingly giving dishonest Judas the moneybag, Jesus specifically modeled for us where not to put our trust: money. Jesus trusted his Father, not money, to provide everything he needed to fulfill his calling. He slept in peace every night, knowing that Judas was embezzling. Judas, on the other hand, became the archetypal model of 1 Timothy 6:10: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.” In Judas’s example, Jesus warns us that the love of money can be so deceptive that we can wander to the point where we are willing to sell eternal Treasure for a handful of coins. The seductive power of wealth must make us tremble.
Not all parts of this story have direct application for us. Jesus doesn’t intend for us to follow his example in appointing thieves as treasurers. Only God is wise enough to do that. But Jesus does intend for us to follow his example in seeking the kingdom first, believing that all we need will be given to us by our Father (Matthew 6:33). His word to us is “fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). Our Father can easily out-give what any thief can steal.
Monday, July 9, 2018
On The Fence
On our way to Florida there was a stretch of the road for 20-30 miles where there was a billboard every 15 feet on both sides of the highway. On the North bound side every billboard was for the Adult Mega Central Superstore. Once we got to the exit it was on, it was literally the size of a football stadium. On the South bound side every sign was for a website called I will return. Some of the signs were a little over the top but the point was obvious. In the middle it started off with a grass median where you could get from one side to the next easily. As we went further it went to a metal railing, then a concrete wall that slowly grew in height. At one point the wall was so high you couldn't see from one side to the next.
What made this scenery even more profound was that the clouds over the north side were pitch black while on the south side there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was like there was an invisible barrier that went from the ground completely into the sky. Once we were passed that store, the median went back to grass and the sky lightened again. Thirty or so miles down the road, the signs started again. North side were signs for a huge discount alcohol store while the website signs showed back up on the south side. As well, the barrier returned.
I thought it was a very profound sign that the two things that destroy people's lives, families, and marriages would be shown in such a contrast. You see, as we start out in life, we can cross the path very easily. But we also can fall back just as easy. As time passes, the fence begins to grow larger. We see the time passing but we can still see the other side, so we think there's still time to move. We even straddle the fence back and forth. But there comes a time when we've been in the dark so long that the wall has grown too tall and too strong to overcome, and it's too late.
People don't straddle the fence. Jesus said in Revelations 3:15-16; "I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth."
1 John 2:15-16 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life is not from the Father but is from the world. The things of this world and all its desires will entice you daily. They will distract you from the wall until it has grown to tall to conquer. But just know, as it is said in Joshua 1:9- Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Through it all He is with you. Though you may journey far into the dark, unable to even see a glimmer of that wall, His light can pierce through. But know this today; if you find yourself at the bottom of that wall looking up, and feel that there is no way you can climb up, cry out to Him. He's there waiting to stretch down His hand and pull you out of the darkness before the roaring waters overtake you.
What made this scenery even more profound was that the clouds over the north side were pitch black while on the south side there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was like there was an invisible barrier that went from the ground completely into the sky. Once we were passed that store, the median went back to grass and the sky lightened again. Thirty or so miles down the road, the signs started again. North side were signs for a huge discount alcohol store while the website signs showed back up on the south side. As well, the barrier returned.
I thought it was a very profound sign that the two things that destroy people's lives, families, and marriages would be shown in such a contrast. You see, as we start out in life, we can cross the path very easily. But we also can fall back just as easy. As time passes, the fence begins to grow larger. We see the time passing but we can still see the other side, so we think there's still time to move. We even straddle the fence back and forth. But there comes a time when we've been in the dark so long that the wall has grown too tall and too strong to overcome, and it's too late.
People don't straddle the fence. Jesus said in Revelations 3:15-16; "I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth."
1 John 2:15-16 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life is not from the Father but is from the world. The things of this world and all its desires will entice you daily. They will distract you from the wall until it has grown to tall to conquer. But just know, as it is said in Joshua 1:9- Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Through it all He is with you. Though you may journey far into the dark, unable to even see a glimmer of that wall, His light can pierce through. But know this today; if you find yourself at the bottom of that wall looking up, and feel that there is no way you can climb up, cry out to Him. He's there waiting to stretch down His hand and pull you out of the darkness before the roaring waters overtake you.
Saturday, July 7, 2018
Are You A Wedding Crasher?
In Matthew 22:1–14, Jesus tells a parable about a wedding feast. Unlike most wedding feasts, however, this one involves a king and his son, some ornery invitees, cold-blooded murder, the destruction of cities, and a ragtag group of afterthought guests. Most surprising of all is the end of the story. After all the guests have assembled, the king spots a man without a wedding garment and orders that he be shown the door. Actually, his words are more severe: “Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13). Granted, this ending adds some narrative kick to the parable, but is there more that Jesus wants us to see? Perhaps we should retrace our steps a little. This parable is the third installment in a series of rebukes directed toward the Jewish leaders. In the context, Jesus has been teaching in the temple following his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The chief priests and elders, rankled by his popularity with the people, interrupt his discourse and demand that he give one good reason why he has the right to open his mouth on their turf (Matthew 21:23). In response to them, Jesus tells the Jewish leaders, “the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people producing its fruits” (Matthew 21:43).
This prediction is illustrated in our parable as the original invited guests, representing the chief priests and Pharisees, lose their place at the royal buffet. The king then sends his servants to invite anyone who will come. The servants do just that, and Matthew notes that the newly invited guests are a motley crew, made up of “both bad and good” (22:10). This observation creates the tension that will be resolved in verses 11–14. As we’ve seen already, the king finds a man at the feast not wearing a wedding garment. Was this a special kind of tunic, fringed with lace, perhaps, and lined with pockets full of rice and birdseed for the newlyweds? Probably not. More likely, a wedding garment was a nice set of clothes used for special occasions. If this is the case, then the guest without a wedding garment is an under-dressed attendee, like a man appearing at a funeral in board shorts and flip-flops. The gesture would be offensive, a sign that the guest is oblivious to the significance of his invitation.
This explains the king’s swift action, and it brings us back to the point of the parable. Jesus had said that the kingdom would be taken away from the Jewish leaders and given to a people producing its fruits. The wedding feast is an open invitation, but there is a dress code. Everyone is welcome at the table, but the table changes us. Or, to keep with the imagery of the parable, it changes our clothes. If it doesn’t, then we aren’t truly guests. We’re wedding crashers, and our lot lies outside of the laughter and light. “Many are called,” says Jesus, “but few are chosen” (Matthew 22:14). From this parable, I think Jesus wants us to see three things. First, the gates of the kingdom are open wide. Salvation is not based on ethnicity, education, income bracket, popularity, ministry position, personality type, cultural savvy, athletic ability, or attractiveness. For this reason, we should be very careful not to assume that the people most fit for the kingdom are those who look most like us.
Second, though the gates of the kingdom are open wide, the kingdom still has gates and we must enter through them. The kingdom imposes conditions on us. We must bear its fruits. We have a particular kind of clothing to wear to the feast. In the words of Paul, we must put on, “as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility,” and the like (Colossians 3:12). A bitter and unforgiving heart is as much out of line for the Christian as a flip-flopping funeral-goer.
Finally, and we mustn’t miss this point, the kingdom of God is a feast. And we should act like it. God means to be enjoyed. He is the God of laughter, full bellies, and second helpings. In his presence, says David, there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11). Do you believe that? Then come. There’s a seat with your name on it.
This prediction is illustrated in our parable as the original invited guests, representing the chief priests and Pharisees, lose their place at the royal buffet. The king then sends his servants to invite anyone who will come. The servants do just that, and Matthew notes that the newly invited guests are a motley crew, made up of “both bad and good” (22:10). This observation creates the tension that will be resolved in verses 11–14. As we’ve seen already, the king finds a man at the feast not wearing a wedding garment. Was this a special kind of tunic, fringed with lace, perhaps, and lined with pockets full of rice and birdseed for the newlyweds? Probably not. More likely, a wedding garment was a nice set of clothes used for special occasions. If this is the case, then the guest without a wedding garment is an under-dressed attendee, like a man appearing at a funeral in board shorts and flip-flops. The gesture would be offensive, a sign that the guest is oblivious to the significance of his invitation.
This explains the king’s swift action, and it brings us back to the point of the parable. Jesus had said that the kingdom would be taken away from the Jewish leaders and given to a people producing its fruits. The wedding feast is an open invitation, but there is a dress code. Everyone is welcome at the table, but the table changes us. Or, to keep with the imagery of the parable, it changes our clothes. If it doesn’t, then we aren’t truly guests. We’re wedding crashers, and our lot lies outside of the laughter and light. “Many are called,” says Jesus, “but few are chosen” (Matthew 22:14). From this parable, I think Jesus wants us to see three things. First, the gates of the kingdom are open wide. Salvation is not based on ethnicity, education, income bracket, popularity, ministry position, personality type, cultural savvy, athletic ability, or attractiveness. For this reason, we should be very careful not to assume that the people most fit for the kingdom are those who look most like us.
Second, though the gates of the kingdom are open wide, the kingdom still has gates and we must enter through them. The kingdom imposes conditions on us. We must bear its fruits. We have a particular kind of clothing to wear to the feast. In the words of Paul, we must put on, “as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility,” and the like (Colossians 3:12). A bitter and unforgiving heart is as much out of line for the Christian as a flip-flopping funeral-goer.
Finally, and we mustn’t miss this point, the kingdom of God is a feast. And we should act like it. God means to be enjoyed. He is the God of laughter, full bellies, and second helpings. In his presence, says David, there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11). Do you believe that? Then come. There’s a seat with your name on it.
Thursday, July 5, 2018
Go Or No Go?
"They just can't do this," exclaimed William. "Can't you see how wrong this is?" "Look, most of the people in this town think it's the right thing to do," replied the exasperated government official.
"It's part of their religion." William questioned, "How is tying a living woman to her dead husband and burning them together the right thing to do?" With this, the official threw up his hands. "William," he answered, "one man alone can't change this. Just give it up and go back to tending your flock."
When his denomination said that "God alone" would convert heathens in pagan countries, William ignored them and embarked on one of the most successful missionary journeys in church history. In addition, he taught himself several languages and published a book that became the source for the modern missionary movement. He also translated the New Testament into thirty-four languages and the Old Testament into eight.
William Carey fought for years against the practice in India of burning wives alive with their dead husbands. Eventually, despite government opposition, he succeeded in getting the burnings banned. Carey spent his life as an innovator for Christ, facing hardship to make a difference. And he was known for encouraging others to "Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God."
William Carey did just that.
Most people fall into the following categories when it comes to sharing their faith: go-go, slow-go, and no-go. When Jesus calls Christians to go into the world and make disciples, some respond with great fervor. Like William Carey, they go and go for the gospel. Still others respond, but only halfheartedly, slowing down with age or the busyness of their schedule. Sadly, many believers are no-go Christians. They hear the command, but they figure that someone else will do it. Or that only some people are called to be missionaries. Charles Spurgeon once said, "Every Christian is either a missionary or an imposter."
It doesn't matter if you're called to a foreign nation, or the neighboring county. It doesn't matter if you're called to reach the heart of a terrorist, or the heart of a family member. All Christians are missionaries, or they're just playing a deadly game. Which category best describes your response to Jesus' call to evangelism? Ask God to renew a desire to share your faith with others. If you are expecting great things from his answer, then be prepared to attempt great things in His name.
"It's part of their religion." William questioned, "How is tying a living woman to her dead husband and burning them together the right thing to do?" With this, the official threw up his hands. "William," he answered, "one man alone can't change this. Just give it up and go back to tending your flock."
When his denomination said that "God alone" would convert heathens in pagan countries, William ignored them and embarked on one of the most successful missionary journeys in church history. In addition, he taught himself several languages and published a book that became the source for the modern missionary movement. He also translated the New Testament into thirty-four languages and the Old Testament into eight.
William Carey fought for years against the practice in India of burning wives alive with their dead husbands. Eventually, despite government opposition, he succeeded in getting the burnings banned. Carey spent his life as an innovator for Christ, facing hardship to make a difference. And he was known for encouraging others to "Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God."
William Carey did just that.
Most people fall into the following categories when it comes to sharing their faith: go-go, slow-go, and no-go. When Jesus calls Christians to go into the world and make disciples, some respond with great fervor. Like William Carey, they go and go for the gospel. Still others respond, but only halfheartedly, slowing down with age or the busyness of their schedule. Sadly, many believers are no-go Christians. They hear the command, but they figure that someone else will do it. Or that only some people are called to be missionaries. Charles Spurgeon once said, "Every Christian is either a missionary or an imposter."
It doesn't matter if you're called to a foreign nation, or the neighboring county. It doesn't matter if you're called to reach the heart of a terrorist, or the heart of a family member. All Christians are missionaries, or they're just playing a deadly game. Which category best describes your response to Jesus' call to evangelism? Ask God to renew a desire to share your faith with others. If you are expecting great things from his answer, then be prepared to attempt great things in His name.
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
Get Your Mind On Track
How are you feeling? What’s on your mind? These are very important questions, not just polite conversation starters. They’re questions we should ask ourselves (and others) frequently because they tell us what direction our train is heading. The train of the mind is linked together like this: the car of our thoughts is hitched to the car of our emotions, which is hitched to the car of our hope, which is hitched to the engine of our trust. Here’s how the train operates:
The engine that pulls our mind in a certain direction is trust (or belief or faith). And trust is always pulling us toward some trustworthy destination (something we’re believing). When I say “trustworthy” here, I mean that our mind believes it’s trustworthy or might be trustworthy. In reality, it could be completely false. But if our mind believes the destination is credible, our trust will pull in that direction. Hitched to the engine of trust is the car of hope. If the destination our trust engine is pulling toward promises a good future (near or distant), we feel hopeful. If the destination promises a bad future, we feel some measure of hopelessness (or hope deficit). Hitched to the car of our hope is the car of our dominant emotions. The measure of our hope is directly reflected in how we feel.
Hitched to the car of our dominant emotions is the car of our dominant conscious thoughts, the things that are occupying our minds at the moment. If we’re hopeful, our emotions are happy and expansive, which results in optimistic, forward-oriented, eager thoughts. If we feel hopeless, our thoughts are fearful, depressed, sad, pessimistic, defensive-oriented, apprehensive, etc.
We tend to “ride” (so to speak) in our emotions and thought cars. These are what we are most aware of most of the time. But what’s important to remember is that our dominant emotions and thoughts are not driving our train. They are being pulled. So, when we are struggling emotionally, when we, like Martha, are “anxious and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41), more often than not we have a directional problem. Our trust engine is pulling toward a troubling destination that for some reason we believe is trustworthy. We’re going down the wrong track. That’s why the Bible almost always addresses our emotional trouble by redirecting our minds toward the right objects of trust.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8) Two verses earlier Paul instructs us to “not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6). Then he instructs us to “let [our] requests be made known to God” because hope-saturated, heart-guarding peace results from trusting God’s promises, like “ask, and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7). And then in verse 8 he lists all these hopeful destinations and instructs us to “think about these things” (Philippians 4:8). In other words, the mind must be directed. If we want to be happy, our trust must have its sights set on the right destination. That’s why Bible reading, memorizing, and prayer are so important.
Prayerful Bible meditation directs our trust engine toward the right destinations (God’s promises, 2 Peter 1:4), which causes our hope to abound and us to experience “joy and peace in believing” (Romans 15:13). And this makes us more able to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). We’re completely wrongheaded whenever we lapse into thinking that private devotions somehow win us merit points with God. Devotions aren’t for impressing God or anybody else. They are for daily pointing us in the right direction and fueling the engine of our trust in God.
So, if you are struggling today, walk up the line of your train of thought. Where is your trust engine taking you? If you are on the wrong track, the Bible has provided you a track switcher: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:2). Set your mind on them and then “think about these things.”
It takes work to redirect your trust. Expect it to be a fight (1 Timothy 6:12). But it is very much worth the fight. It will direct your trust in a Faithful One (Hebrews 10:23), give you a hope that won’t disappoint (Romans 5:5), exchange anxiety for peaceful joy (Romans 15:13), and cause you to think clearly and faithfully (Romans 12:3).
The engine that pulls our mind in a certain direction is trust (or belief or faith). And trust is always pulling us toward some trustworthy destination (something we’re believing). When I say “trustworthy” here, I mean that our mind believes it’s trustworthy or might be trustworthy. In reality, it could be completely false. But if our mind believes the destination is credible, our trust will pull in that direction. Hitched to the engine of trust is the car of hope. If the destination our trust engine is pulling toward promises a good future (near or distant), we feel hopeful. If the destination promises a bad future, we feel some measure of hopelessness (or hope deficit). Hitched to the car of our hope is the car of our dominant emotions. The measure of our hope is directly reflected in how we feel.
Hitched to the car of our dominant emotions is the car of our dominant conscious thoughts, the things that are occupying our minds at the moment. If we’re hopeful, our emotions are happy and expansive, which results in optimistic, forward-oriented, eager thoughts. If we feel hopeless, our thoughts are fearful, depressed, sad, pessimistic, defensive-oriented, apprehensive, etc.
We tend to “ride” (so to speak) in our emotions and thought cars. These are what we are most aware of most of the time. But what’s important to remember is that our dominant emotions and thoughts are not driving our train. They are being pulled. So, when we are struggling emotionally, when we, like Martha, are “anxious and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41), more often than not we have a directional problem. Our trust engine is pulling toward a troubling destination that for some reason we believe is trustworthy. We’re going down the wrong track. That’s why the Bible almost always addresses our emotional trouble by redirecting our minds toward the right objects of trust.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8) Two verses earlier Paul instructs us to “not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6). Then he instructs us to “let [our] requests be made known to God” because hope-saturated, heart-guarding peace results from trusting God’s promises, like “ask, and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7). And then in verse 8 he lists all these hopeful destinations and instructs us to “think about these things” (Philippians 4:8). In other words, the mind must be directed. If we want to be happy, our trust must have its sights set on the right destination. That’s why Bible reading, memorizing, and prayer are so important.
Prayerful Bible meditation directs our trust engine toward the right destinations (God’s promises, 2 Peter 1:4), which causes our hope to abound and us to experience “joy and peace in believing” (Romans 15:13). And this makes us more able to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). We’re completely wrongheaded whenever we lapse into thinking that private devotions somehow win us merit points with God. Devotions aren’t for impressing God or anybody else. They are for daily pointing us in the right direction and fueling the engine of our trust in God.
So, if you are struggling today, walk up the line of your train of thought. Where is your trust engine taking you? If you are on the wrong track, the Bible has provided you a track switcher: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:2). Set your mind on them and then “think about these things.”
It takes work to redirect your trust. Expect it to be a fight (1 Timothy 6:12). But it is very much worth the fight. It will direct your trust in a Faithful One (Hebrews 10:23), give you a hope that won’t disappoint (Romans 5:5), exchange anxiety for peaceful joy (Romans 15:13), and cause you to think clearly and faithfully (Romans 12:3).
Sunday, July 1, 2018
The Miracle We Didn't Ask For
How often have we been in situations in our lives and we've prayed to be delivered from them with a miracle? But sometimes God doesn't answer our prayers exactly how we had envisioned them. Sometimes we get a resounding "NO". “No” was not the answer we wanted. We were looking for a miraculous answer to our prayer, a return to normalcy, relief from the pain. We wanted the kind of grace that would deliver us from our circumstances. God, in his mercy, offers his sustaining grace.
At first, we reject it as insufficient. We wanted deliverance. Not sustenance. We wanted the pain to stop, not to be held up through the pain. We are just like the children of Israel who rejoiced at God’s delivering grace in the parting of the Red Sea, but complained bitterly at his sustaining grace in the provision of manna. With every heartache we want a Red Sea miracle. A miracle that would astonish the world, reward us for our faithfulness, make our life glorious. We don’t want manna. But God knows better. Each day he continues to put manna before us. At first, we grumble. It seems like second best. It wasn’t the feast we envisioned. It was bland and monotonous. But after a while, we begin to taste the manna, embrace it, and savor its sweetness.
This manna, this sustaining grace, is what holds us up. It revives us when we are weak. It drives us to our knees. And unlike delivering grace which, once received, inadvertently moves us to greater independence from God, sustaining grace keeps us tethered to him. We need it every day. Like manna, it is new every morning. God has delivered us and answered some prayers with a resounding “yes” in jaw-dropping, supernatural ways. We look back at them with gratitude and awe. Yet after those prayers were answered, we go back to our everyday life, often less dependent on God. But the answers of “no” or “wait,” and those answered by imperceptible degrees over time, will do a far deeper work in our soul. They keep us connected to the Giver and not his gifts. They force us to seek him. And in seeking him, we will discover the intimacy of his fellowship. In the midst of our deepest pain, in the darkness, God’s presence will be unmistakable. Through excruciating struggles, he speaks to us. He comforts us through his word. He whispers to us in the dark, as we lie awake on our tear-stained pillow. He sings beautiful songs over us of his love.
At first, we just want the agony to go away. We don’t rejoice in the moment. We don’t rejoice at all. But as we cling to God and his promises, he sustains us. Joy is at first elusive. We have glimpses of delight, but it is mostly slow and incremental. Yet over time, we realize we have an inexplicable joy — not in our circumstances, but in the God who cares so fiercely for us. Eating the everyday, bland, sometimes unwelcome manna produces a joy beyond our wildest imaginings. We will find that this joy, which is often birthed out of suffering, can never be taken away; it only gets richer over time. Our circumstances cannot diminish it. It produces lasting fruit like endurance, character, and hope. It draws us to God in breathtaking ways. It achieves a weight of glory that is beyond all comparison.
I still pray earnestly for deliverance, for the many things I long to see changed, both in my life and in the world. That is right. It’s biblical. We need to bring our requests to God. But as much as I long for deliverance, for delivering grace, I see the exquisite blessing in sustaining grace. It’s not about getting what I want; it’s about God giving me what I desperately need: himself.
At first, we reject it as insufficient. We wanted deliverance. Not sustenance. We wanted the pain to stop, not to be held up through the pain. We are just like the children of Israel who rejoiced at God’s delivering grace in the parting of the Red Sea, but complained bitterly at his sustaining grace in the provision of manna. With every heartache we want a Red Sea miracle. A miracle that would astonish the world, reward us for our faithfulness, make our life glorious. We don’t want manna. But God knows better. Each day he continues to put manna before us. At first, we grumble. It seems like second best. It wasn’t the feast we envisioned. It was bland and monotonous. But after a while, we begin to taste the manna, embrace it, and savor its sweetness.
This manna, this sustaining grace, is what holds us up. It revives us when we are weak. It drives us to our knees. And unlike delivering grace which, once received, inadvertently moves us to greater independence from God, sustaining grace keeps us tethered to him. We need it every day. Like manna, it is new every morning. God has delivered us and answered some prayers with a resounding “yes” in jaw-dropping, supernatural ways. We look back at them with gratitude and awe. Yet after those prayers were answered, we go back to our everyday life, often less dependent on God. But the answers of “no” or “wait,” and those answered by imperceptible degrees over time, will do a far deeper work in our soul. They keep us connected to the Giver and not his gifts. They force us to seek him. And in seeking him, we will discover the intimacy of his fellowship. In the midst of our deepest pain, in the darkness, God’s presence will be unmistakable. Through excruciating struggles, he speaks to us. He comforts us through his word. He whispers to us in the dark, as we lie awake on our tear-stained pillow. He sings beautiful songs over us of his love.
At first, we just want the agony to go away. We don’t rejoice in the moment. We don’t rejoice at all. But as we cling to God and his promises, he sustains us. Joy is at first elusive. We have glimpses of delight, but it is mostly slow and incremental. Yet over time, we realize we have an inexplicable joy — not in our circumstances, but in the God who cares so fiercely for us. Eating the everyday, bland, sometimes unwelcome manna produces a joy beyond our wildest imaginings. We will find that this joy, which is often birthed out of suffering, can never be taken away; it only gets richer over time. Our circumstances cannot diminish it. It produces lasting fruit like endurance, character, and hope. It draws us to God in breathtaking ways. It achieves a weight of glory that is beyond all comparison.
I still pray earnestly for deliverance, for the many things I long to see changed, both in my life and in the world. That is right. It’s biblical. We need to bring our requests to God. But as much as I long for deliverance, for delivering grace, I see the exquisite blessing in sustaining grace. It’s not about getting what I want; it’s about God giving me what I desperately need: himself.
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