The reigns of the Old Testament kings are usually described by first of all telling if they did good or evil in the sight of the Lord, followed by an explanation. It has always intrigued me that so may of their epitaphs included the following types of comments:
-He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, except that he didn't tear down the alters of Baal, or the high places.
-He served the Lord like his father David, except that...
-He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, however...
-The high places, however, were not removed.
It seems that, though they loved God, they fell just short of living like their fathers did. These short-comings led to consequences that sometimes lasted for generations. I unconsciously find myself asking why, when they were just that close to being fully committed to Him, did they tolerate the "except that" and "however" actions in their lives? Then I hear the question whispered in my ear, "What about your life? What have you allowed in your life that would leave the footnote except that?"
Did I make an exception for:
-Not loving to the point of sacrifice and giving of myself, regardless of the cost.
-Not giving more in the way of finances, whether to others or the Lord.
-Caring so little about spiritual growth that reading, praying, pursuing wisdom was relegated to about #7 on my to-do list.
-Only trusting God till things got hard.
-Allowing myself to be lured by money.
-Allowing the cares of life to obscure my sight of a sovereign God.
It seems to me that my biggest struggle, and I think our culture's as well, is frenetic activity. Run, run, run. Rush here, rush there. Not enough hours in the day. My list of to-do lists. My concern that something will remain unfinished. (That one is guaranteed!) All of this is beyond being a mere footnote. And it's too important to read, agree with, and go on with no change in our actions. We must carve out time to STOP! To think about our actions and priorities.
Having said all of that, we will fail. We will fall short. We are undeniably human and frail. But we also need to take stock of our lives, and ask the Lord to show us where we are failing to be fully committed to Him. As the book of James points out, failing to do what we know we should do is sin. Join me in attempting to root out the "except-thats" in our lives.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Thursday, October 10, 2013
OLD FASHIONED WORDS
OLD FASHIONED WORDS
When I first heard of J.C. Ryle's book "Holiness", it sounded dry and theological. But it proved to be one of the most practical, meaningful, and motivating books I have ever read.
As I have mentioned before, the word holiness has all the allure of concrete. It is somewhat of an "old fashioned" word. (But so are gravity, oxygen, etc., you get the idea. Relevance and age don't seem to be mutually exclusive.) But if our God says "Be holy as I am holy", we have a responsibility to at least give it a bit of thought. Ryle shows it's importance, and gives us practical and challenging perspectives.
Words like sin and holiness have very little if any relevance in today's world outside of any discussion of faith. And therefore we hear phrases like "holier then thou", sometimes deserved, sometimes a smoke screen to put off having to think about God. But in response to that thinking, Ryle agrees, and says the following; "Sound doctrine is useless if not accompanied by a holy life...We want something more than generalities about holy living, which often prick no conscience and cause no offense...True holiness does not consist merely of believing and feeling, but of doing and bearing, and a practical exhibition of active and passive grace." James 1 is extremely practical in giving us more than, as Ryle calls it, generalities about holy living. Those specifics include humility, dealing with temptation and anger, and a statement that I think sums up what faith and holiness really should mean. James 1:22 "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." Doesn't get much more practical than that.
It seems to me that any definition of holiness needs to include what holiness is not. It is not perfection. It is not about comparison. It is not based on what others may think. It may be compared to health. I strive to be healthy, but will never be in perfect health. Comparatively, I am healthier than some, not as healthy as others. Others may think I take good care of my health, and some may not. Ultimately, my health is important primarily to me, just as striving to be holy is, except that my striving for holiness directly reflects on God, for good or for bad. We tend to think that if we are not perfectly holy, we dare not even use the word, though we have absolutely no problem talking about how to stay or become more healthy. The reality is that the pursuit of holiness is a reflection of spiritual health.
So holiness may be an old-fashioned word, but the need for it is as contemporary as it could possibly be.We could learn a lot by not equating "old fashioned" with "irrelevant".
When I first heard of J.C. Ryle's book "Holiness", it sounded dry and theological. But it proved to be one of the most practical, meaningful, and motivating books I have ever read.
As I have mentioned before, the word holiness has all the allure of concrete. It is somewhat of an "old fashioned" word. (But so are gravity, oxygen, etc., you get the idea. Relevance and age don't seem to be mutually exclusive.) But if our God says "Be holy as I am holy", we have a responsibility to at least give it a bit of thought. Ryle shows it's importance, and gives us practical and challenging perspectives.
Words like sin and holiness have very little if any relevance in today's world outside of any discussion of faith. And therefore we hear phrases like "holier then thou", sometimes deserved, sometimes a smoke screen to put off having to think about God. But in response to that thinking, Ryle agrees, and says the following; "Sound doctrine is useless if not accompanied by a holy life...We want something more than generalities about holy living, which often prick no conscience and cause no offense...True holiness does not consist merely of believing and feeling, but of doing and bearing, and a practical exhibition of active and passive grace." James 1 is extremely practical in giving us more than, as Ryle calls it, generalities about holy living. Those specifics include humility, dealing with temptation and anger, and a statement that I think sums up what faith and holiness really should mean. James 1:22 "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." Doesn't get much more practical than that.
It seems to me that any definition of holiness needs to include what holiness is not. It is not perfection. It is not about comparison. It is not based on what others may think. It may be compared to health. I strive to be healthy, but will never be in perfect health. Comparatively, I am healthier than some, not as healthy as others. Others may think I take good care of my health, and some may not. Ultimately, my health is important primarily to me, just as striving to be holy is, except that my striving for holiness directly reflects on God, for good or for bad. We tend to think that if we are not perfectly holy, we dare not even use the word, though we have absolutely no problem talking about how to stay or become more healthy. The reality is that the pursuit of holiness is a reflection of spiritual health.
So holiness may be an old-fashioned word, but the need for it is as contemporary as it could possibly be.We could learn a lot by not equating "old fashioned" with "irrelevant".
Sunday, September 29, 2013
WHEN "WHY" DOESN'T MATTER
Some final thoughts from Piper's Suffering and the Sovereignty of God.
Steve Saint, in his chapter in the above book, suggests there are four reasons for suffering.
1)Punishment for sin
2)To display God's power
3)To build perseverance and character in us
4)To keep us humble
As I read that, I was interested in my own reactions to it. I understand the first reason, as I am very aware of the wickedness of my own heart. I get the second as well, as a sovereign God's right to receive the glory due Him. I just flat don't like #3 & #4. In my own great wisdom, I see them as less valid reasons to endure pain and heartache. Why is this? In part I think it is because I somehow assume that I can gain perseverance, character and humility some other way. Both scripture and experience would indicate otherwise. But lets look at the above list one at a time.
The reality is that we understand #1 even as a part of what our hearts see as "fair". We expect the criminal to receive justice. We anticipate that a good judge will sentence the murderer for the crime he has committed. So it is fairly easy for us to see that God would do the same. But sin is not the only reason for suffering, and we need to be wary of assuming that we know what the reason is.
We may see #2 as God's right as the creator, albeit grudgingly giving him permission to leave us in pain. If we are honest, we still probably at least feel like this is a little unfair, wincing a little at the thought. I read the story in John chapter 9 with just a little bit of reservation. Jesus disciples assumed that a man blind from birth had either sinned or his parents had. Jesus said that it was neither, but that this man's entire life of blindness was so that he could at this moment be the avenue through which God would show his power. Personally, I would have thought that he could have gone blind last week, be healed this week, and achieved the same result. God apparently saw otherwise, and the blind man truly suffered. It was not a theoretical discussion for him, it was real heartache. Accepting that God chose this path for the blind man requires us to bow to God's sovereignty. Job's friends were equally as sure that the heartache he endured was the result of his sin, and were in the end chastised by God. What Job endured was also in order to bring glory to God.
I don't know about you, but for me the third and fourth reasons are more difficult to accept. I don't want perseverance and character, not if I have to endure...(fill in the blank). I want it to be easy. I want to win the Olympics after two days of workouts. Sounds pretty foolish, doesn't it? Let me give two scriptures that address this, though there are countless more. Psalm 119:71 says "It was good for me to be afflicted, so that I might learn your decrees." Obviously the Psalmist thought his pain was necessary to know his Lord well. The second verse is Romans 5:3-4, and gives the sequence of this third reason almost word for word. "...we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." I found myself wondering if I would have hope without character, character without perseverance, or perseverance without suffering. When things are easy I go play tennis. When things are gut-wrenching I have no trouble praying.
Our pastor preached today from James 1:1-18, on How God Grows Faith. James says in part that testing produces perseverance, perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete.
And finally, suffering teaches us to be humble. Cuts through our pride and self-sufficiency. Reminds us our next breath is purely by His grace. (Ever think about how many things in our bodies have to work to make that next breath possible? Boggles the mind.) God requires of us a bended knee, a bowed head, a recognition of his sovereignty. Only then will we really know Him.
There is a certain element where why we suffer really doesn't matter nearly as much as how we suffer. Suffering will come, though in differing forms and degrees. We have an opportunity to show to the world that He is worthy of our trust even when, and maybe especially when, we go through deep waters.
When we don't see that God is faithful, we need to remember Psalm 119:75, "In faithfulness you have afflicted me." God is, as a part of his character, faithful. That means He is always faithful, even when we don't see it, because it is not based on us, but on Him. God was every bit as faithful when Israel was in slavery as He was when they were led out of slavery.
Steve Saint, in his chapter in the above book, suggests there are four reasons for suffering.
1)Punishment for sin
2)To display God's power
3)To build perseverance and character in us
4)To keep us humble
As I read that, I was interested in my own reactions to it. I understand the first reason, as I am very aware of the wickedness of my own heart. I get the second as well, as a sovereign God's right to receive the glory due Him. I just flat don't like #3 & #4. In my own great wisdom, I see them as less valid reasons to endure pain and heartache. Why is this? In part I think it is because I somehow assume that I can gain perseverance, character and humility some other way. Both scripture and experience would indicate otherwise. But lets look at the above list one at a time.
The reality is that we understand #1 even as a part of what our hearts see as "fair". We expect the criminal to receive justice. We anticipate that a good judge will sentence the murderer for the crime he has committed. So it is fairly easy for us to see that God would do the same. But sin is not the only reason for suffering, and we need to be wary of assuming that we know what the reason is.
We may see #2 as God's right as the creator, albeit grudgingly giving him permission to leave us in pain. If we are honest, we still probably at least feel like this is a little unfair, wincing a little at the thought. I read the story in John chapter 9 with just a little bit of reservation. Jesus disciples assumed that a man blind from birth had either sinned or his parents had. Jesus said that it was neither, but that this man's entire life of blindness was so that he could at this moment be the avenue through which God would show his power. Personally, I would have thought that he could have gone blind last week, be healed this week, and achieved the same result. God apparently saw otherwise, and the blind man truly suffered. It was not a theoretical discussion for him, it was real heartache. Accepting that God chose this path for the blind man requires us to bow to God's sovereignty. Job's friends were equally as sure that the heartache he endured was the result of his sin, and were in the end chastised by God. What Job endured was also in order to bring glory to God.
I don't know about you, but for me the third and fourth reasons are more difficult to accept. I don't want perseverance and character, not if I have to endure...(fill in the blank). I want it to be easy. I want to win the Olympics after two days of workouts. Sounds pretty foolish, doesn't it? Let me give two scriptures that address this, though there are countless more. Psalm 119:71 says "It was good for me to be afflicted, so that I might learn your decrees." Obviously the Psalmist thought his pain was necessary to know his Lord well. The second verse is Romans 5:3-4, and gives the sequence of this third reason almost word for word. "...we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." I found myself wondering if I would have hope without character, character without perseverance, or perseverance without suffering. When things are easy I go play tennis. When things are gut-wrenching I have no trouble praying.
Our pastor preached today from James 1:1-18, on How God Grows Faith. James says in part that testing produces perseverance, perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete.
And finally, suffering teaches us to be humble. Cuts through our pride and self-sufficiency. Reminds us our next breath is purely by His grace. (Ever think about how many things in our bodies have to work to make that next breath possible? Boggles the mind.) God requires of us a bended knee, a bowed head, a recognition of his sovereignty. Only then will we really know Him.
There is a certain element where why we suffer really doesn't matter nearly as much as how we suffer. Suffering will come, though in differing forms and degrees. We have an opportunity to show to the world that He is worthy of our trust even when, and maybe especially when, we go through deep waters.
When we don't see that God is faithful, we need to remember Psalm 119:75, "In faithfulness you have afflicted me." God is, as a part of his character, faithful. That means He is always faithful, even when we don't see it, because it is not based on us, but on Him. God was every bit as faithful when Israel was in slavery as He was when they were led out of slavery.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
THE PLAGUE OF PROSPERITY
THE PLAGUE OF PROSPERITY
We tend to be bewitched by prosperity. John Piper calls it the "apathy of abundance", and says that "comfort and ease and affluence and prosperity and safety and freedom...can often produce weakness, apathy, lethargy, self-centeredness, and preoccupation with security.
We live such a life of ease that it can suck the passion right out of our spiritual life. We don't feel like we "need" God. We are busy having fun. Visiting friends and family. Deciding where to go on vacation. Researching which car/computer/flat screen TV/ furniture/tools/(fill in the blank) we should buy next. Is all of this bad? Maybe yes and maybe no. But therein lies the problem. As usual, it's about balance. And the real danger is that the imbalance is so subtle that we may not recognize it. That is why scripture, in Matthews account of the parable of the sower, calls it the "deceitfulness of riches". In the 70's, Francis Schaefer called it the desire for "personal peace and affluence", and said it was one of the most dangerous perils that the western church faced.
Isn't interesting to see down through history how the church has grown through adversity? There are examples too many to count. But examples of growth through times of ease? Not so much. I think that's a part of why the Bible says, "In faithfulness you have afflicted me." Psalm 119:75 He cares too much for us to allow us to blithely slide through life, unaware of how much we need him, and of the peril of relying, even unconsciously, on prosperity. Deep, meaningful faith tends to be harder to come by in times of ease. Much of the Psalms are recorded while David literally fled for his life from Saul.
But if suffering comes into our lives for many reasons, which scripture clearly says is true, one of those reasons is to get our attention. To strip away the trivial things, like prosperity, that may distract us from what is truly important in life, and to recognize our very real need of God. Needs that prosperity and "things" can't satisfy. If we are too immersed in these things, we won't hear what God is saying when he is asking if we will trust him. And thus our hardships in life will miss their God appointed purpose, that we learn that trust, and instead will be wasted pain. How tragic. Our challenge is to not let this Plague incapacitate us, to let the apathy of abundance create a powerless, meaningless faith that really looks no different to the world than self-reliance. We mustn't buy the lie.
Nor, by the way, is there piety in poverty. He is merely asking, in a different way, if we will trust him
We tend to be bewitched by prosperity. John Piper calls it the "apathy of abundance", and says that "comfort and ease and affluence and prosperity and safety and freedom...can often produce weakness, apathy, lethargy, self-centeredness, and preoccupation with security.
We live such a life of ease that it can suck the passion right out of our spiritual life. We don't feel like we "need" God. We are busy having fun. Visiting friends and family. Deciding where to go on vacation. Researching which car/computer/flat screen TV/ furniture/tools/(fill in the blank) we should buy next. Is all of this bad? Maybe yes and maybe no. But therein lies the problem. As usual, it's about balance. And the real danger is that the imbalance is so subtle that we may not recognize it. That is why scripture, in Matthews account of the parable of the sower, calls it the "deceitfulness of riches". In the 70's, Francis Schaefer called it the desire for "personal peace and affluence", and said it was one of the most dangerous perils that the western church faced.
Isn't interesting to see down through history how the church has grown through adversity? There are examples too many to count. But examples of growth through times of ease? Not so much. I think that's a part of why the Bible says, "In faithfulness you have afflicted me." Psalm 119:75 He cares too much for us to allow us to blithely slide through life, unaware of how much we need him, and of the peril of relying, even unconsciously, on prosperity. Deep, meaningful faith tends to be harder to come by in times of ease. Much of the Psalms are recorded while David literally fled for his life from Saul.
But if suffering comes into our lives for many reasons, which scripture clearly says is true, one of those reasons is to get our attention. To strip away the trivial things, like prosperity, that may distract us from what is truly important in life, and to recognize our very real need of God. Needs that prosperity and "things" can't satisfy. If we are too immersed in these things, we won't hear what God is saying when he is asking if we will trust him. And thus our hardships in life will miss their God appointed purpose, that we learn that trust, and instead will be wasted pain. How tragic. Our challenge is to not let this Plague incapacitate us, to let the apathy of abundance create a powerless, meaningless faith that really looks no different to the world than self-reliance. We mustn't buy the lie.
Nor, by the way, is there piety in poverty. He is merely asking, in a different way, if we will trust him
Thursday, September 5, 2013
PASSIVE PASSION
PASSIVE PASSION
Deuteronomy 6:5 says "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." In Romans, the apostle Paul calls it "zeal", not a word we use much today, but a word that we do understand. We might call it passion, though with less of an emotional emphasis. When Paul says zeal, he goes on to give a list of actions, not emotions. "With all of your heart, soul and strength" doesn't bring to mind the word passive. I think most would agree that passive passion is an oxymoron. (Don't you just love that word?) So what is passion? Let's start with what it is not. It's not emotion, at least not all of the time. It's not determination. It's not something we can work up, or create on our own. It's not gritting my teeth and forcing myself to live a certain way.Though the Israelites were often described as "zealous for the Lord", the Old Testament is a litany of how their determination to live for God was an abject failure. Over and over again, they failed to live up to God's standards. And so will we. Yet we are commanded to live with zeal and with all of our strength.
I believe that our passion will only come from an increasing recognition of His grace to us. That abundance of grace should leave us with an open-mouthed, wide-eyed, shaking our head kind of disbelief that He could love us in spite of our sin and failures. Like Davids cry of "Who am I?", it should lead to a humility beyond words. That sense of wonder at His grace should lead to a very deep passion in us. It should lead to service, sharing, and grace to others who may fail or hurt us.
Can you imagine the apostle Paul saying “I need to speak to the Corinthians about love, but after all, it is time for Monday night football. I’ll do that tomorrow.” Some nights I sit at home and think, shouldn’t I be reading about great men of faith, or books that would inspire or challenge me? And then I don’t. And I have no excuse, except that I’m tired and need to “unwind”. Is that valid? Sometimes it probably is. But I need to be careful about being too passive about my faith, about what stirs me to think, contemplate, and most of all motivates me to act. Instead I am only passively passionate at best, maybe passionately passive at worst.
Keith Green wrote a song that says in part, "Nothing lasts, except the grace of God, by which I stand, in Jesus. I know that I would surely fall away, except for grace, by which I'm saved." Nothing lasts but grace. Nothing. I should have, with every passing year, a little more awareness of my own sinfulness, and of the undeserved favor He has shown not only to draw me to Himself, but also to give me the strength and desire to live for Him.
While we can't create or force passion in ourselves, we can pray that God would help us to see his grace to us. I believe that will lead to a deep and lasting passion for the things of God. I love the prayer of Moses. "If I have found favor in your eyes, teach me your ways, so I may know you, and continue to find favor with you." That cycle gives me hope that I can ask God for His continued grace to create passion in me, to more deeply "know you".
May passivity die a quick, merciless death in my life.
Deuteronomy 6:5 says "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." In Romans, the apostle Paul calls it "zeal", not a word we use much today, but a word that we do understand. We might call it passion, though with less of an emotional emphasis. When Paul says zeal, he goes on to give a list of actions, not emotions. "With all of your heart, soul and strength" doesn't bring to mind the word passive. I think most would agree that passive passion is an oxymoron. (Don't you just love that word?) So what is passion? Let's start with what it is not. It's not emotion, at least not all of the time. It's not determination. It's not something we can work up, or create on our own. It's not gritting my teeth and forcing myself to live a certain way.Though the Israelites were often described as "zealous for the Lord", the Old Testament is a litany of how their determination to live for God was an abject failure. Over and over again, they failed to live up to God's standards. And so will we. Yet we are commanded to live with zeal and with all of our strength.
I believe that our passion will only come from an increasing recognition of His grace to us. That abundance of grace should leave us with an open-mouthed, wide-eyed, shaking our head kind of disbelief that He could love us in spite of our sin and failures. Like Davids cry of "Who am I?", it should lead to a humility beyond words. That sense of wonder at His grace should lead to a very deep passion in us. It should lead to service, sharing, and grace to others who may fail or hurt us.
Can you imagine the apostle Paul saying “I need to speak to the Corinthians about love, but after all, it is time for Monday night football. I’ll do that tomorrow.” Some nights I sit at home and think, shouldn’t I be reading about great men of faith, or books that would inspire or challenge me? And then I don’t. And I have no excuse, except that I’m tired and need to “unwind”. Is that valid? Sometimes it probably is. But I need to be careful about being too passive about my faith, about what stirs me to think, contemplate, and most of all motivates me to act. Instead I am only passively passionate at best, maybe passionately passive at worst.
Keith Green wrote a song that says in part, "Nothing lasts, except the grace of God, by which I stand, in Jesus. I know that I would surely fall away, except for grace, by which I'm saved." Nothing lasts but grace. Nothing. I should have, with every passing year, a little more awareness of my own sinfulness, and of the undeserved favor He has shown not only to draw me to Himself, but also to give me the strength and desire to live for Him.
While we can't create or force passion in ourselves, we can pray that God would help us to see his grace to us. I believe that will lead to a deep and lasting passion for the things of God. I love the prayer of Moses. "If I have found favor in your eyes, teach me your ways, so I may know you, and continue to find favor with you." That cycle gives me hope that I can ask God for His continued grace to create passion in me, to more deeply "know you".
May passivity die a quick, merciless death in my life.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
WHERE SUFFERING AND SOVEREIGNTY MEET
WHERE SUFFERING AND SOVEREIGNTY MEET
I wanted
to share some excellent thoughts from John Pipers book, "Suffering and the
Sovereignty of God", in a chapter written by Dustin Shramek. He presents
very eloquently the tension between our faith in God's sovereignty and the very
real pain of life. Let me share several quotes.
"Good
theology is essential if we are going to suffer well...But we must never forget
that often the night is long and the weeping uncontrollable...No amount of good
theology is able to take the pain out of suffering. Too often we allow
ourselves to believe that a robust view of God's sovereignty in all things
means that when suffering comes it won't hurt...The pain of suffering is both
dark and deep. This is critical to see, for when we minimize the pain we fail
to love others and we fail to honor God...There are times in our lives that we
can barely make it out of bed in the morning and we have no energy to do
anything. Our pain and grief is so great that we are unable to concentrate...We
don't love others in the midst of this kind of pain by pretending that it isn't
all that bad or by trying to quickly fix it with some pat theological answers.
We love them by first weeping with them...But let us not so quickly go from the
afflictions to the deliverance and thus minimize the pain in between..."
Hopefully
I haven't too badly butchered Shramek' thoughts, but just given a little of the
flavor of what he has to say. He follows
up by saying, "God is a big God who can handle our questions, our anger,
and our pain." This is from a man whose first-born son died twenty minutes
after birth. It was not theoretical to him.
There
is a real tension between suffering and sovereignty, though mostly because we
can't understand it. The Bible doesn't flinch at this. It still presents that
both are true, and that God has a plan in all of it. His ultimate goal for us
is that we trust Him
Thursday, August 15, 2013
WHY ME, OR WHY ME?
WHY ME, OR WHY ME?
Isn’t it amazing what a difference context
can make? I was struck by this as I read David’s response to God in 2 Samuel 7:18-21.
18 Then King David went in and sat before the LORD, and he said:
“Who am I, Sovereign LORD, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far? 19 And as if this were not enough in your sight, Sovereign LORD, you have also spoken about the future of the house of your servant—and this decree, Sovereign LORD, is for a mere human![c]
20 “What more can David say to you? For you know your servant, Sovereign LORD. 21 For the sake of your word and according to your will, you have done this great thing and made it known to your servant.”
Often our “Why me” moments are fueled by confusion or even despair over circumstances that may be very difficult. But once in a while we have a moment like David appears to have had here. A moment when we are smacked in the face by the absolutely unbelievable thought that He has chosen us, and our cry of “Why me?” takes on a totally different meaning. Can’t you see David? He went in and sat before the Lord. Plopped down, came to a screeching halt and said “Who am I?” What could I have possibly done to deserve your favor? Why? I deserve nothing good. My wicked heart cannot even desire to know you, if you don’t incline my heart toward you.
The group Casting Crowns sings the
following song “Who Am I?”
Who am I, that the Lord of all the
earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
Vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
Vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Who am I, that the eyes that see my
sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
Vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
Vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours
While I’m not sure that this song
was inspired by the above passage, it certainly could have been. And my hope is
that in my life the moments of stunned wonder at His grace to me would be a
firmer foundation to support me when I encounter the “Why me?” moments when I
cannot see the direction His sovereign love is taking me. That the contrasting
“why me” moments would become entwined to strengthen my faith. As Randy Alcorn
says, “Faith that cannot be shaken is faith that has been shaken.”
Saturday, August 10, 2013
WHAT IF...
Randy Alcorn asks the
following. “What if suffering is God’s invitation to trust Him?” This seems to
me to be a pivotal question. It is why sovereignty is so important. If I’m
hurting, and he’s sovereign, I can trust Him. If I’m hurting and He isn’t, then
I’m left alone with my pain.
Two of the most influential
books I have read in the last couple of years are Alcorn’s book “If God is
Good”, and John Piper’s “Suffering and the Sovereignty of God”. Both are packed
with both tough questions and thought provoking answers. They have challenged
and solidified my thinking, and I cannot recommend them highly enough. They
have also been instrumental in my desire to write this blog, on a couple of
levels.
The first was Alcorn’s
statement that, “Our failure to teach a biblical theology of suffering leaves
Christians unprepared for harsh realities. It also leaves our children
vulnerable to history, philosophy, and global studies classes that raise the
problems of evil and suffering while denying the Christian worldview. Since the
question will be raised, shouldn’t
Christian parents and churches raise it first and take people to Scripture to
see what God says about it?”
Darrell Scott’s daughter Rachel was the first
to die in 1999’s Columbine shootings. He said the following. “In my experience,
most Christians lack grounding in God’s attributes, including his sovereignty,
omnipotence, omniscience, justice, and patience. We dare not wait for a time of
crisis to learn perspective! Don’t be content to be hand-fed by others. Do your
own reading and study, devour good books, talk about the things of God.” I
couldn’t agree more. And it is especially true if, as Alcorn says, the only way
to escape suffering in this life is to die.
This leads to my second
reason for writing. I thought that I
might be able to correlate some of the things that I have read, in order to
pass it along in this fashion to people who would not read the entire book, for
a myriad of reasons. I absolutely love to read, but others may not. But some of
these things are so foundational to our thinking, to our understanding of who
God is, and to the lives we live based on that theology, that we should at
every opportunity “reason together” about them. The problem I have here is that
I find myself wanting to quote whole chapters of these books, because there’s that
much good materiel in them! Here’s one example from Alcorn.
Vicki Anderson, who was born with a facial abnormality
called hypertelorism, says,
I don’t really like the
phrase “birth defect”-it contradicts my theology. A “defect” implies a mistake
and I believe that God is sovereign. If he had the power to create the entire
universe according to his exact specifications, then my face was certainly no
challenge for him! If God is loving, why did he deform my face? I don’t
know-maybe because with a normal face I would have been robbed of the thousands
and thousands of blessings I have received because of my deformities. It seems
odd, but usually our greatest trial is what most molds and shapes us. It gives
us character, backbone, courage, wisdom, discernment, and friendships that are
not shallow.
Vicki’s mother says, “I
believe that God has chosen this sorrow for our family…We have all learned, we
have all grown, and we love the Lord and His sovereign direction in our lives.”
Wow. This is from people for
whom suffering and pain are not some abstract discussion. Two of their
statements stand out to me. One is Vicki’s perspective that her theology dictates
even what she calls her deformity, and especially her mom’s statement that God
“chose this sorrow for our family”. Not accidental, not out of His control, not
caught when He wasn’t looking and now He’ll try to make up for it.
Chosen sorrow.
For my good, in fact for my highest good.
I hope that I can continue to
learn to trust in his “chosen sorrows” for me.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
The Other Job
THE OTHER JOB
When I read that Job was a “righteous man”, it is easy for me to put him in a different category than me. As if, being such a godly man, his response to pain in his life was automatic. And he does make some incredibly perceptive and challenging statements.
-Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.
-Shall we accept good from the Lord and not trouble?
I certainly don’t see myself responding with as much faith as he did. So it is good for me to slow down and “read between the lines” what God allows, even plans for, in his life.
Are we in danger of missing part of Job’s story? Most of us have read it many times. But if we read it too quickly, we miss his pain. And if we miss his pain, we miss a huge part of what God is telling us. I can’t imagine that Job effortlessly responds correctly through the circumstances of his life. He strives, with varying degrees of success, to trust God through them.
Let’s attempt to feel what he feels. He loses all of his possessions. All of his herds. All of his livestock. Everything materially that he owned. In one day.
Today’s translation...
-his job is eliminated through downsizing.
-his investments disappear.
-his car and house are repossessed.
Starting to feel it? And then comes the unimaginable horror. His 12 children are all killed. Not the shoulder- slumping, this can’t be true pain of losing one. But try to see what it would feel like to lose all of them. Can you even begin to imagine? I cannot. And I don’t believe that Job’s response, “the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away”, is an immediate reflex, uttered without a single thought, as godly as it is. I can only envision him saying, “No! No! Are you sure? Could there be some mistake?” And when it becomes clear that it is indeed true, slumping to his knees. Clenching his jaw. Pounding his fists on the ground. Weeping till his shirt is drenched. Then, getting a grip on his emotions, raising his head to heaven and acknowledging that God is sovereign, still worthy of Job’s trust.
Now I know none of this is in scripture, and I know I could be completely wrong. But I can’t imagine that Job is anything but a real man with real emotions. I believe he makes a choice. A choice to turn once again and trust God. The fact that it was not easy is indicated later when he says not to smile and pretend it isn’t so.
It seems to me that the story of Job shows us the link between God’s sovereignty and man’s pain. God is sovereign, but Job still hurts, really hurts.
So what’s the lesson for us? For one thing, don’t fall for the line of reasoning that would say the Christian life will be easy or painless. Scripture never tells us we shouldn’t feel real feelings. We are told not to be ruled by them. To make the choice, sometimes the soul-wrenching choice, to trust him. In the huge hurts, and in simple disappointments.
When I read that Job was a “righteous man”, it is easy for me to put him in a different category than me. As if, being such a godly man, his response to pain in his life was automatic. And he does make some incredibly perceptive and challenging statements.
-Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.
-Shall we accept good from the Lord and not trouble?
I certainly don’t see myself responding with as much faith as he did. So it is good for me to slow down and “read between the lines” what God allows, even plans for, in his life.
Are we in danger of missing part of Job’s story? Most of us have read it many times. But if we read it too quickly, we miss his pain. And if we miss his pain, we miss a huge part of what God is telling us. I can’t imagine that Job effortlessly responds correctly through the circumstances of his life. He strives, with varying degrees of success, to trust God through them.
Let’s attempt to feel what he feels. He loses all of his possessions. All of his herds. All of his livestock. Everything materially that he owned. In one day.
Today’s translation...
-his job is eliminated through downsizing.
-his investments disappear.
-his car and house are repossessed.
Starting to feel it? And then comes the unimaginable horror. His 12 children are all killed. Not the shoulder- slumping, this can’t be true pain of losing one. But try to see what it would feel like to lose all of them. Can you even begin to imagine? I cannot. And I don’t believe that Job’s response, “the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away”, is an immediate reflex, uttered without a single thought, as godly as it is. I can only envision him saying, “No! No! Are you sure? Could there be some mistake?” And when it becomes clear that it is indeed true, slumping to his knees. Clenching his jaw. Pounding his fists on the ground. Weeping till his shirt is drenched. Then, getting a grip on his emotions, raising his head to heaven and acknowledging that God is sovereign, still worthy of Job’s trust.
Now I know none of this is in scripture, and I know I could be completely wrong. But I can’t imagine that Job is anything but a real man with real emotions. I believe he makes a choice. A choice to turn once again and trust God. The fact that it was not easy is indicated later when he says not to smile and pretend it isn’t so.
It seems to me that the story of Job shows us the link between God’s sovereignty and man’s pain. God is sovereign, but Job still hurts, really hurts.
So what’s the lesson for us? For one thing, don’t fall for the line of reasoning that would say the Christian life will be easy or painless. Scripture never tells us we shouldn’t feel real feelings. We are told not to be ruled by them. To make the choice, sometimes the soul-wrenching choice, to trust him. In the huge hurts, and in simple disappointments.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
OBSESSED WITH JOB
OBSESSED WITH JOB
I am obsessed with the story of Job. On many different levels. But mostly because his story shows me so much of what can be wrong with my theology. It is hard to understand how we can read about Job’s life and still so badly misconstrue who God is.
Job’s story talks about God’s sovereignty. About suffering. About sickness. About our perspective, and how limited it is. About how we judge people. About self-righteous pride. About the battle between God and Satan. And about so much more.
Much of my theology, and the life that I live based on that theology, comes in part from my understanding of Job’s story. It is stunningly humbling to see how my life is not about me. All that happens in this life is about glorifying God. ALL that happens.
It is not about Job’s children, or their death, but about glorifying God. It is not about Job’s righteous life. It is not about Job’s reputation. It is not about Job’s health. It is not about Job’s wealth, but about glorifying God. On one level, none of that matters, (though God in his grace cares about us in these things.)
Do we really get that, or do we get so focused on those things that we get side-tracked and forget it’s not about us? How we see all of this matters, and I think it matters a great deal. For if I misunderstand this truth, I will not understand when, (and not if, by the way) these things come into my life. Friends and loved ones will die. I will get sick. I may face financial hardship, slander to my reputation, all manner of hardship and pain. And it will be hard...gut-wrenching, sobbingly, knock me to my knees hard. Job tells us not to smile and pretend it’s not. (Job 9:27-28) But how will we respond?
The cry of my heart is that my life will glorify God. That I will understand just a little of who God is, and how I should respond. Do I fail? Trust me, you have no idea how often. All I see is the mirror. I think it’s all about me. I worry and wring my hands about stupid stuff. I am so pathetically weak and human. As, I suspect, are you.
Join me in becoming obsessed with Job. We have a lot to learn.
I am obsessed with the story of Job. On many different levels. But mostly because his story shows me so much of what can be wrong with my theology. It is hard to understand how we can read about Job’s life and still so badly misconstrue who God is.
Job’s story talks about God’s sovereignty. About suffering. About sickness. About our perspective, and how limited it is. About how we judge people. About self-righteous pride. About the battle between God and Satan. And about so much more.
Much of my theology, and the life that I live based on that theology, comes in part from my understanding of Job’s story. It is stunningly humbling to see how my life is not about me. All that happens in this life is about glorifying God. ALL that happens.
It is not about Job’s children, or their death, but about glorifying God. It is not about Job’s righteous life. It is not about Job’s reputation. It is not about Job’s health. It is not about Job’s wealth, but about glorifying God. On one level, none of that matters, (though God in his grace cares about us in these things.)
Do we really get that, or do we get so focused on those things that we get side-tracked and forget it’s not about us? How we see all of this matters, and I think it matters a great deal. For if I misunderstand this truth, I will not understand when, (and not if, by the way) these things come into my life. Friends and loved ones will die. I will get sick. I may face financial hardship, slander to my reputation, all manner of hardship and pain. And it will be hard...gut-wrenching, sobbingly, knock me to my knees hard. Job tells us not to smile and pretend it’s not. (Job 9:27-28) But how will we respond?
The cry of my heart is that my life will glorify God. That I will understand just a little of who God is, and how I should respond. Do I fail? Trust me, you have no idea how often. All I see is the mirror. I think it’s all about me. I worry and wring my hands about stupid stuff. I am so pathetically weak and human. As, I suspect, are you.
Join me in becoming obsessed with Job. We have a lot to learn.
Monday, July 15, 2013
How Sovereign is Sovereign?
How Sovereign is Sovereign?
John Piper wrote a book called “A SWEET AND BITTER PROVIDENCE”, and it is a terrific look at how God works sovereignly in peoples lives. He tells the story of Ruth and Naomi, saying that “behind a frowning providence” lies God’s sovereign plan, and that is a great comfort. He says, “It is not comforting or hopeful in their pain to tell people that God is not in control.” (Which by the way is our only other choice.) “Giving Satan the decisive control or ascribing pain to chance, is not true or helpful. When the world is crashing in, we need the assurance that God reigns over it all. Those who are exposed to the greatest dangers are those that most cherish the sovereignty of God.” Ruth, after all, is included in the lineage of Christ. Can we doubt that this is part of God’s sovereign plan?
Here is a somewhat startling example. Five missionaries were killed by the Auca Indians in Ecuador. One of their sons, Steve Saint, tells of learning details within the tribe that should have made prevented the killing of his dad. He wrote the following:
“As the natives described their recollections, it occurred to me how incredibly unlikely it was that the killing took place at all. It is an anomaly that I cannot explain outside of divine intervention.”
“I can only explain the spearing of my dad by virtue of divine intervention” Do you hear what this son is saying? “God killed my dad.” If you read more of the story,(the book THROUGH THE GATES OF SPLENDOR or the movie, THE TIP OF THE SPEAR)you see that the entire tribe believes in Christ when his mom goes back to share her faith with them. There is an account of a man in Africa that built a church for his tribe after hearing of this story. The repercussions of this event stretched far beyond what his dad could have imagined his ministry’s impact being had he lived. Is God 100% sovereign, in spite of the pain and heartache? It’s a little easier to believe when we see the results, but no less true when we can’t. There-in lies the problem. We tend to only believe if we can see the proof. Arrogantly telling God that he can only be allowed to be sovereign if we see it with our own eyes and approve. Really?
Recently Steve Saint was involved in an accident, leaving him with severe injuries. His faith is unshaken, and I can’t help but wonder that the circumstances of his childhood helped to mold his trust in God.
Ultimately, it all comes back again to trust. And that trust will be tested in new ways every day. Ways that we can’t imagine. Ways that we can’t predict. Ways that will seem trivial, and some that will stun us with the depth of their pain. I am so glad that even when I fail to learn to trust him, he never fails to be trustworthy. Even when I can’t see.
John Piper wrote a book called “A SWEET AND BITTER PROVIDENCE”, and it is a terrific look at how God works sovereignly in peoples lives. He tells the story of Ruth and Naomi, saying that “behind a frowning providence” lies God’s sovereign plan, and that is a great comfort. He says, “It is not comforting or hopeful in their pain to tell people that God is not in control.” (Which by the way is our only other choice.) “Giving Satan the decisive control or ascribing pain to chance, is not true or helpful. When the world is crashing in, we need the assurance that God reigns over it all. Those who are exposed to the greatest dangers are those that most cherish the sovereignty of God.” Ruth, after all, is included in the lineage of Christ. Can we doubt that this is part of God’s sovereign plan?
Here is a somewhat startling example. Five missionaries were killed by the Auca Indians in Ecuador. One of their sons, Steve Saint, tells of learning details within the tribe that should have made prevented the killing of his dad. He wrote the following:
“As the natives described their recollections, it occurred to me how incredibly unlikely it was that the killing took place at all. It is an anomaly that I cannot explain outside of divine intervention.”
“I can only explain the spearing of my dad by virtue of divine intervention” Do you hear what this son is saying? “God killed my dad.” If you read more of the story,(the book THROUGH THE GATES OF SPLENDOR or the movie, THE TIP OF THE SPEAR)you see that the entire tribe believes in Christ when his mom goes back to share her faith with them. There is an account of a man in Africa that built a church for his tribe after hearing of this story. The repercussions of this event stretched far beyond what his dad could have imagined his ministry’s impact being had he lived. Is God 100% sovereign, in spite of the pain and heartache? It’s a little easier to believe when we see the results, but no less true when we can’t. There-in lies the problem. We tend to only believe if we can see the proof. Arrogantly telling God that he can only be allowed to be sovereign if we see it with our own eyes and approve. Really?
Recently Steve Saint was involved in an accident, leaving him with severe injuries. His faith is unshaken, and I can’t help but wonder that the circumstances of his childhood helped to mold his trust in God.
Ultimately, it all comes back again to trust. And that trust will be tested in new ways every day. Ways that we can’t imagine. Ways that we can’t predict. Ways that will seem trivial, and some that will stun us with the depth of their pain. I am so glad that even when I fail to learn to trust him, he never fails to be trustworthy. Even when I can’t see.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
John Piper on Sovereignty
A Very Precious and Practical Doctrine
One reason this doctrine is so precious to believers is that we know that God’s great desire is to show mercy and kindness to those who trust him (Ephesians 2:7; Psalm 37:3-7; Proverbs 29:25). God’s sovereignty means that this design for us cannot be frustrated. Nothing, absolutely nothing befalls those who “love God and are called according to his purpose” but what is for our deepest and highest good (Psalm 84:11). Therefore, the mercy and the sovereignty of God are the twin pillars of my life. They are the hope of my future, the energy of my service, the center of my theology, the bond of my marriage, the best medicine in all my sickness, the remedy of all my discouragements. And when I come to die (whether soon or late) these two truths will stand by my bed and with infinitely strong and infinitely tender hands lift me up to God.
When George Müller’s wife of 39 years died, he preached her funeral sermon from the text “Thou art good and doest good” (Psalm 119:68). He recounts how he prayed when he discovered she had rheumatic fever: “Yes, my Father, the times of my darling wife are in Thy hands. Thou wilt do the very best thing for her, and for me, whether life or death. If it may be, raise up yet again my precious wife—Thou are able to do it, though she is so ill; but howsoever Thou dealest with me, only help me to continue to be perfectly satisfied with Thy holy will.” The Lord’s will was to take her. Therefore, with great confidence in the sovereign mercy of God, Müller said, “I bow, I am satisfied with the will of my Heavenly Father, I seek by perfect submission to his holy will to glorify him, I kiss continually the hand that has afflicted me…Without an effort my inmost soul habitually joys in the joy of that loved departed one. Her happiness gives joy to me. My dear daughter and I would not have her back, were it possible to produce it by the turn of a hand. God himself has done it; we are satisfied with him.”
In the Mighty Hand,
Pastor John
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