Maybe you've been curious (or, perhaps, not :) ) how my whole focus on humility is going so far this year. It's been a struggle, for sure. It's amazing how many corners of my life are infected with pride and how often I don't even put up a fight against it. It's been so valuable, though, to grow more conscious of this and to submit this area of my life in particular to God through prayer.
This week I was studying Philippians 2:1-11. Among other things, this passage spells out what our attitude should be, namely, that of Christ Jesus. If there was ever a person to have just cause for a sense of pride, for passing judgment, for championing self "rights" it was him - the King of the universe. But he didn't. He let all of that go. He limited himself to a state of humanity and, therefore, humility. He came to serve, not control. Love, not punish. Rescue, not condemn. And he desired for those of us who follow him to do the same. As Paul explains in Philippians: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests but also the interests of others." (vs. 3-4) How often do we operate under our own wants, desires, comfort? How easy is it to justify our perceived entitlement? It goes against the very grain of our human nature to put others first. Yet if we desire to witness unity and peace, it begins with ourselves. Our humility. Seeing others as worthy of preferential treatment and sacrificing our selfishness and vanity.
I have such a long way to go. But everyday I thank God for opening my eyes to this part of myself and ask him for the strength to kill this part of my sinful nature, replacing it more and more with His likeness.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Chains for Christ
Having never been incarcerated, enslaved, or in any other way physically restricted or imprisoned, I have often found it difficult to fully relate to Paul's predicament during which he wrote his letter to the Philippians. I mean, intellectually I get that he was in prison many times in his life and that this, for lack of a more eloquent term, sucks. Particularly during that time in the world's history when human rights weren't necessarily considered a given. But I think imprisonment could also be relatable in that it is figurative as well. Circumstances such as poverty, depression, illness, persecution - any number of evil things we face in this fallen world can trap us and threaten to break our spirit. So it is striking to read Philippians, then, in this light and see how in-line Paul's priorities are. His #1 concern is that the love of Christ is shown and the gospel of hope preached. He goes so far as to say, " Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel...and I will continue to rejoice." (Phil. 1:12, 18). Whatever the physical situation in his life, he understands that God can use them for His purposes and for the advancement of His name and glory, and this is his primary focus and joy.
Verse 12 stopped me in my tracks as I read it today. I asked myself, "Could I really be ok with ANYTHING happening to me, so long as it advanced the gospel?" The gut-wrenchingly honest answer to this question, in theory, is NO. I can't look down the road and say I would be ok with a terminal illness, decrease in income, something happening to one of my children, etc. etc. But in reality, who knows how I would respond in any of these or a number of other painful situations? I do know that, more and more, I realize the only good thing there is in this world is the love of Christ and the hope of salvation and eternity He gives. I know that everything in this world is touched by sin and is therefore fallen and full of pain. And so I surmise that I would cling to Him solely in the midst of any crisis. But, in the good and the bad, am I solely focused on Christ's love being shown and His message spread? Is that a priority for me? And can I look at the brokenness that is and will surely continue to come in my life as one of many platforms that can be used for God's glory? It is my prayer and desire that these things would be true of me. That I would always, ALWAYS "conduct [myself] in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ" (vs. 27) and would truly believe and live in such a way that "to live is Christ and to die is gain"(vs. 21).
Verse 12 stopped me in my tracks as I read it today. I asked myself, "Could I really be ok with ANYTHING happening to me, so long as it advanced the gospel?" The gut-wrenchingly honest answer to this question, in theory, is NO. I can't look down the road and say I would be ok with a terminal illness, decrease in income, something happening to one of my children, etc. etc. But in reality, who knows how I would respond in any of these or a number of other painful situations? I do know that, more and more, I realize the only good thing there is in this world is the love of Christ and the hope of salvation and eternity He gives. I know that everything in this world is touched by sin and is therefore fallen and full of pain. And so I surmise that I would cling to Him solely in the midst of any crisis. But, in the good and the bad, am I solely focused on Christ's love being shown and His message spread? Is that a priority for me? And can I look at the brokenness that is and will surely continue to come in my life as one of many platforms that can be used for God's glory? It is my prayer and desire that these things would be true of me. That I would always, ALWAYS "conduct [myself] in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ" (vs. 27) and would truly believe and live in such a way that "to live is Christ and to die is gain"(vs. 21).
Thursday, March 04, 2010
The Prodigal God
Though I rarely finish a book and don't at least REALLY like it, there are few that I would categorize as "life changing". Within that short list are the Bible, The Shack, and, most recently, The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller.
I don't have a birthdate, per se, for becoming a Christian. As far back as I can remember I have attended church, prayed within my home, been taught right and wrong, and believed that Jesus Christ came to this earth and died to pay the price for my sins. What I've never grasped, until I read this book, was exactly how high that price really was and what that says about the God I serve that I've always claimed to know. Even more, I was given a glimpse into who I am at my most basic, human level. Pretty wild and scary stuff.
If you are at all familiar with the Bible, you are probably familiar with the story of the prodigal son. Selfishly arrogant son asks Father for his share of the inheritance, leaves home and squanders said inheritance, skulks home starving and broken only to be unexpectedly received back into the loving arms of dad who proceeds to throw a really happening fiesta to celebrate. A beautiful picture of how God wants to welcome home all of his wayward children, right? Yes, but there's more to this story than meets the eye, as pointed out by Mr. Keller. What is overlooked is that there are actually two brothers rebelling against the father here. The obvious one is the child who left home and lived against his father's wishes, squandering what he had been given. The less obvious rebellion is that of the elder brother. While he sticks close to home, obedient to his father's commands, fulfilling all the obligations he feels are expected of him, his heart is still rooted in a place of selfishness. He is living out of duty, looking after his reputation and living for what he can get from his father - namely, his inheritance.
The title of the book comes from the meaning of the word, prodigal: to spend recklessly, until you have nothing left. God gave ALL that he had to reconcile His fallen creation, man, back to himself. "His reckless grace is our greatest hope." And who exactly was that sacrifice made for? Not just the overtly sinful, rebellious "younger brothers" of this world, but also those of us "elder brothers" - Pharisees in Jesus' day. Today it would be, well, me, for example. Who has always gone around following all the "shoulds", doing what I imagined was the right thing, dutifully obedient to good moral laws, even those laid out in the Bible. All the while judging the younger brothers of this world who just weren't as good. My heart attitude (and that of many of us in the church today) is to assume that if we follow the path of moral conformity, we are following Christ. But, as Timothy Keller so aptly says, " [We] can rebel against God and be alienated from Him either by breaking His rules or by keeping all of them diligently." By doing the latter, we try to become our own Savior and Lord, effectively saying we don't need God's free grace. The rules are enough.
Here is where I was hit deepest: "Religion operates on the principle that 'I obey - therefore I am accepted by God.' The basic operating principle of the gospel is 'I am accepted by God through the work of Jesus Christ -therefore, I obey." God's gift of grace is, yes, free. But not for Him. For Him it cost everything. He came and "[experienced] the exile that we deserve ". I have been living a life of "shoulds" - doing all the things that I believe God expects of a "good Christian". But all the while my heart has been in the entirely wrong place. A Pharisaical place. Now I desire to live each day, each moment in the light of the grace and love that I never fully understood before. I deeply desire for God to grow within my awakened heart the passion to bring His true message - that of hope and grace, love and acceptance - to all those who cross my path and don't yet know it.
So what does that look like? According to Keller "Behavioral compliance to rules without heart change will be superficial and fleeting." You know how we in the Christian circles are always bemoaning the fact that we constantly backslide in our walk with the Lord? How we can't seem to hang onto lasting change? I believe this is at the root of it. We are not truly grasping this grace that bought our freedom. This is where I have always grown stuck: "You cannot change such things through mere willpower, through learning Biblical principles and trying to carry them out. We can only change permanently as we take the gospel more deeply into our understanding and into our hearts. We must feed on the gospel, as it were, digesting it and making it part of ourselves."
Martin Luther says that even after you are converted by the gospel your heart will go back to operating on other principles unless you deliberately, repeatedly set it to gospel-mode. That being, living a life that responds to God's love for me. Living out of thankfulness and not duty. Immersing myself in His word so that I know Him more fully and can respond authentically.
I don't have a birthdate, per se, for becoming a Christian. As far back as I can remember I have attended church, prayed within my home, been taught right and wrong, and believed that Jesus Christ came to this earth and died to pay the price for my sins. What I've never grasped, until I read this book, was exactly how high that price really was and what that says about the God I serve that I've always claimed to know. Even more, I was given a glimpse into who I am at my most basic, human level. Pretty wild and scary stuff.
If you are at all familiar with the Bible, you are probably familiar with the story of the prodigal son. Selfishly arrogant son asks Father for his share of the inheritance, leaves home and squanders said inheritance, skulks home starving and broken only to be unexpectedly received back into the loving arms of dad who proceeds to throw a really happening fiesta to celebrate. A beautiful picture of how God wants to welcome home all of his wayward children, right? Yes, but there's more to this story than meets the eye, as pointed out by Mr. Keller. What is overlooked is that there are actually two brothers rebelling against the father here. The obvious one is the child who left home and lived against his father's wishes, squandering what he had been given. The less obvious rebellion is that of the elder brother. While he sticks close to home, obedient to his father's commands, fulfilling all the obligations he feels are expected of him, his heart is still rooted in a place of selfishness. He is living out of duty, looking after his reputation and living for what he can get from his father - namely, his inheritance.
The title of the book comes from the meaning of the word, prodigal: to spend recklessly, until you have nothing left. God gave ALL that he had to reconcile His fallen creation, man, back to himself. "His reckless grace is our greatest hope." And who exactly was that sacrifice made for? Not just the overtly sinful, rebellious "younger brothers" of this world, but also those of us "elder brothers" - Pharisees in Jesus' day. Today it would be, well, me, for example. Who has always gone around following all the "shoulds", doing what I imagined was the right thing, dutifully obedient to good moral laws, even those laid out in the Bible. All the while judging the younger brothers of this world who just weren't as good. My heart attitude (and that of many of us in the church today) is to assume that if we follow the path of moral conformity, we are following Christ. But, as Timothy Keller so aptly says, " [We] can rebel against God and be alienated from Him either by breaking His rules or by keeping all of them diligently." By doing the latter, we try to become our own Savior and Lord, effectively saying we don't need God's free grace. The rules are enough.
Here is where I was hit deepest: "Religion operates on the principle that 'I obey - therefore I am accepted by God.' The basic operating principle of the gospel is 'I am accepted by God through the work of Jesus Christ -therefore, I obey." God's gift of grace is, yes, free. But not for Him. For Him it cost everything. He came and "[experienced] the exile that we deserve ". I have been living a life of "shoulds" - doing all the things that I believe God expects of a "good Christian". But all the while my heart has been in the entirely wrong place. A Pharisaical place. Now I desire to live each day, each moment in the light of the grace and love that I never fully understood before. I deeply desire for God to grow within my awakened heart the passion to bring His true message - that of hope and grace, love and acceptance - to all those who cross my path and don't yet know it.
So what does that look like? According to Keller "Behavioral compliance to rules without heart change will be superficial and fleeting." You know how we in the Christian circles are always bemoaning the fact that we constantly backslide in our walk with the Lord? How we can't seem to hang onto lasting change? I believe this is at the root of it. We are not truly grasping this grace that bought our freedom. This is where I have always grown stuck: "You cannot change such things through mere willpower, through learning Biblical principles and trying to carry them out. We can only change permanently as we take the gospel more deeply into our understanding and into our hearts. We must feed on the gospel, as it were, digesting it and making it part of ourselves."
Martin Luther says that even after you are converted by the gospel your heart will go back to operating on other principles unless you deliberately, repeatedly set it to gospel-mode. That being, living a life that responds to God's love for me. Living out of thankfulness and not duty. Immersing myself in His word so that I know Him more fully and can respond authentically.
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