Thursday, December 22, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
"He has surpassed me..."
Reading John 1:15
"John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying 'This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.'"
It is no small thing to be able to look at another and honestly say 'he is a better man than I am.' We are naturally egocentric and believe in our own superiority. The person who comes to Jesus is forced to admit this or be doomed to projecting his own image onto Jesus. If I am not absolutely clear about the fact that Jesus 'has surpassed me' then I will use my relationship with Jesus to affirm and reinforce my own sin. Even my repentance will only be a reflection of my own desire to minimize and to let myself off the hook. I will be able to use Jesus to forgive myself and to condemn others. I will have baptized my self-righteousness.
If I can accept that Jesus is the better man, if, with John, I can say 'I am not worthy to untie the thongs of his sandals' (1:27), then I am positioned to hear the whole truth about myself and then real change is possible. This is the definition of Christian humility. The presence of this humility is tested for every time I am criticized. An immediate defensive reaction is a warning sign that something is amiss in my relationship with Jesus. Even if I think the criticism is not justified there should be something in me that says: 'they don't know the half of it, the don't know my secret sins, my thoughts, my neglected duties, they don't know my coldness, my lack of love, my wanderings, my betrayals of Jesus and his priorities...'. The presence of this humility is tested for every time I criticize someone else, every time I think that someone else's sin is worse than my own, someone else's rejection of Jesus is worse than my rejection of him, someone else's neglect is worse than my neglect, someone else's rebellion is worse than my rebellion.
The one thing that stands out about John the Baptist, more than anything else, is his humility with respect to Jesus:
"He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me." (v15, 30)
"I am not the Christ" (v20)
"I am not Elijah" (v21)
"I am not the Prophet" (v21)
"I am the voice of one calling in the desert" (v23)
"I am not worthy to untie the thongs of his sandals" (v27)
"He must increase but I must decrease" (3:30)
You will be a better man when you recognize that Jesus is the better man.
"John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying 'This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.'"
It is no small thing to be able to look at another and honestly say 'he is a better man than I am.' We are naturally egocentric and believe in our own superiority. The person who comes to Jesus is forced to admit this or be doomed to projecting his own image onto Jesus. If I am not absolutely clear about the fact that Jesus 'has surpassed me' then I will use my relationship with Jesus to affirm and reinforce my own sin. Even my repentance will only be a reflection of my own desire to minimize and to let myself off the hook. I will be able to use Jesus to forgive myself and to condemn others. I will have baptized my self-righteousness.
If I can accept that Jesus is the better man, if, with John, I can say 'I am not worthy to untie the thongs of his sandals' (1:27), then I am positioned to hear the whole truth about myself and then real change is possible. This is the definition of Christian humility. The presence of this humility is tested for every time I am criticized. An immediate defensive reaction is a warning sign that something is amiss in my relationship with Jesus. Even if I think the criticism is not justified there should be something in me that says: 'they don't know the half of it, the don't know my secret sins, my thoughts, my neglected duties, they don't know my coldness, my lack of love, my wanderings, my betrayals of Jesus and his priorities...'. The presence of this humility is tested for every time I criticize someone else, every time I think that someone else's sin is worse than my own, someone else's rejection of Jesus is worse than my rejection of him, someone else's neglect is worse than my neglect, someone else's rebellion is worse than my rebellion.
The one thing that stands out about John the Baptist, more than anything else, is his humility with respect to Jesus:
"He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me." (v15, 30)
"I am not the Christ" (v20)
"I am not Elijah" (v21)
"I am not the Prophet" (v21)
"I am the voice of one calling in the desert" (v23)
"I am not worthy to untie the thongs of his sandals" (v27)
"He must increase but I must decrease" (3:30)
You will be a better man when you recognize that Jesus is the better man.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
"The word became flesh..."
Reading John 1:14
"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."
If a picture is worth a thousand words what do you have when the perfect Word ("the Word was God," John 1:1) becomes the perfect picture ("the exact representation of his being," Heb. 1:3)? Where do we even begin with the interpretation when Word and Picture of the eternal God is perfectly fused with temporal humanity ("became flesh")? John uses images of life and light and glory to try to convey some of the impact of this unprecedented event. Jesus is the closest we can ever come to understanding the One whose "thoughts are not our thoughts" and whose "ways are not our ways" (Isaiah 55). Jesus is the closest we will ever come to seeing the one who lives in "unapproachable glory." Looking at Jesus and seeing God is like looking at the night sky and seeing the heavens. We can see enough to feel completely overwhelmed but realize that we are only seeing the outer fringes of his being. Jesus does not fully remove the mystery of God, does not make God familiar. On any consideration the incarnation of God presents us with something not fully understandable. The incarnation is problematic, like Moses' bush that burned with fire but was not consummed. How can the eternal be dressed up in temporal clothes without losing its essential character as eternal? How can "the glory of the One and only" be transformed into one human being among a population of billions of human beings and not lose his essential character as blindingly glorious?
All attempts at explanation are less than satisfying and have the effect of diminishing the wonder of the event. All that we can say is that he "made his dwelling among us" and "we have seen...". To go further than this would be like trying to explain the science behind the burning bush.
Can we live with wonder or are we doomed to reject what we can't understand, even though he has "lived among us" and "we have seen..."?
"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."
If a picture is worth a thousand words what do you have when the perfect Word ("the Word was God," John 1:1) becomes the perfect picture ("the exact representation of his being," Heb. 1:3)? Where do we even begin with the interpretation when Word and Picture of the eternal God is perfectly fused with temporal humanity ("became flesh")? John uses images of life and light and glory to try to convey some of the impact of this unprecedented event. Jesus is the closest we can ever come to understanding the One whose "thoughts are not our thoughts" and whose "ways are not our ways" (Isaiah 55). Jesus is the closest we will ever come to seeing the one who lives in "unapproachable glory." Looking at Jesus and seeing God is like looking at the night sky and seeing the heavens. We can see enough to feel completely overwhelmed but realize that we are only seeing the outer fringes of his being. Jesus does not fully remove the mystery of God, does not make God familiar. On any consideration the incarnation of God presents us with something not fully understandable. The incarnation is problematic, like Moses' bush that burned with fire but was not consummed. How can the eternal be dressed up in temporal clothes without losing its essential character as eternal? How can "the glory of the One and only" be transformed into one human being among a population of billions of human beings and not lose his essential character as blindingly glorious?
All attempts at explanation are less than satisfying and have the effect of diminishing the wonder of the event. All that we can say is that he "made his dwelling among us" and "we have seen...". To go further than this would be like trying to explain the science behind the burning bush.
Can we live with wonder or are we doomed to reject what we can't understand, even though he has "lived among us" and "we have seen..."?
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Children of God
Reading John 1:12
"Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God..."
In the previous verse we read that "he came to his own but his own did not receive him." What is it to be rejected by your own? What feelings and emotions and hurts pressed in on the humanity of Jesus because those who owed him so much turned him away at the door? He is the Word, the voice of God calling out to us but we have refused to listen or we go on reading the paper while he talks away in the background of our life. He created everything that is, all the things that we live by and enjoy and take great pleasure in but we reject the greatest pleasure of all, the pleasure of knowing him - we take the gifts and reject the giver. He is the life, the spark that turns bare existence into joyful being. We taste the joy but refuse to share it with the one who holds the cup and offers it to us. He is the light but we prefer darkness or shades of gray, thinking that somehow darkness can add a little colour to our world. He is rejected on all counts even though we have nothing without him. The drive to declare our complete independence of God is at the heart of our rebellion against him. Like the prodigal we want our inheritance and we want it all to ourselves, somehow thinking that we will enjoy it more if we can flee our father's world, can get out of his shadow.
Beginning with his birth "he was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering...we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). The problem of his rejection is reversed when we "receive him" and "believe in his name" but it is never fully put to rest in this world. What betrayal there is even in the heart of the Christian. How often we "grieve" him, reject him from our days routines, ask him to wait while we attend to other things, show him the door when we don't like what he says, rage against him when he will not yield to our will.
Nevertheless, when we open our life to him, acknowledge who he is, recognize our complete dependence on him and give thanks to him for being the reason we have a life at all then we are welcomed as children. We become his in a way that it is not possible to be without receiving Jesus as God. When we join with Thomas in falling down before him and saying "my Lord and my God," then the incarnation moves from being a matter of history to a matter of personal experience. History is set right for me when I open the door and gladly welcome Jesus in.
Any room at the inn this Christmas or will Jesus have to wait until the busy holiday season is over to get the welcome he deserves?
"Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God..."
In the previous verse we read that "he came to his own but his own did not receive him." What is it to be rejected by your own? What feelings and emotions and hurts pressed in on the humanity of Jesus because those who owed him so much turned him away at the door? He is the Word, the voice of God calling out to us but we have refused to listen or we go on reading the paper while he talks away in the background of our life. He created everything that is, all the things that we live by and enjoy and take great pleasure in but we reject the greatest pleasure of all, the pleasure of knowing him - we take the gifts and reject the giver. He is the life, the spark that turns bare existence into joyful being. We taste the joy but refuse to share it with the one who holds the cup and offers it to us. He is the light but we prefer darkness or shades of gray, thinking that somehow darkness can add a little colour to our world. He is rejected on all counts even though we have nothing without him. The drive to declare our complete independence of God is at the heart of our rebellion against him. Like the prodigal we want our inheritance and we want it all to ourselves, somehow thinking that we will enjoy it more if we can flee our father's world, can get out of his shadow.
Beginning with his birth "he was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering...we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). The problem of his rejection is reversed when we "receive him" and "believe in his name" but it is never fully put to rest in this world. What betrayal there is even in the heart of the Christian. How often we "grieve" him, reject him from our days routines, ask him to wait while we attend to other things, show him the door when we don't like what he says, rage against him when he will not yield to our will.
Nevertheless, when we open our life to him, acknowledge who he is, recognize our complete dependence on him and give thanks to him for being the reason we have a life at all then we are welcomed as children. We become his in a way that it is not possible to be without receiving Jesus as God. When we join with Thomas in falling down before him and saying "my Lord and my God," then the incarnation moves from being a matter of history to a matter of personal experience. History is set right for me when I open the door and gladly welcome Jesus in.
Any room at the inn this Christmas or will Jesus have to wait until the busy holiday season is over to get the welcome he deserves?
Monday, December 12, 2005
Spiritual amnesia
Reading John 1:10-11
"He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own but his own did not receive him."
Many movies and television programs have dealt with the theme of amnesia and the chaos and confusion that results when a person forgets who he is and no longer recognizes his friends and family members. This is exactly what we are dealing with in these verses. We are looking at a failure to recognize who made us and what we are doing here. The result is a rejection of our most important family members: our loving heavenly Father, our brother Jesus, and our closest comforter, the Holy Spirit. There is a complete network of love and support but we turn our backs on it because of a lack of recognition. This is the condition of the world in its unbelief. This is often referred to as being "lost," a term that is very fitting for the spiritual amnesiac.
These verses show that a lack of recognition leads inevitably to a lack of reception. We give the best reception to those whom we know and love the most. If I am not giving Jesus a very warm reception in my daily life I need to trace the problem back up the line. How well do I really know him? The Gospels are the meeting place and if I'm not spending time in the Gospels I begin to be afflicted with bouts of temporary amnesia. This in turn leads me to a loss of connection with my Father, Brother, and Comforter. I begin to enter into an experience of lostness where the ground seems to go out from under my feet - insecurity, loneliness, anxiety, purposelessness, come to underlie all of the normal experiences of life. At first it is only a sense, something hard to put your finger on, but left to grow it becomes a thief and a robber of the joy of life. All this can be prevented by regularly going to the meeting place and staying connected with the greatest lover the world has ever known; Jesus the lover of my soul.
"He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own but his own did not receive him."
Many movies and television programs have dealt with the theme of amnesia and the chaos and confusion that results when a person forgets who he is and no longer recognizes his friends and family members. This is exactly what we are dealing with in these verses. We are looking at a failure to recognize who made us and what we are doing here. The result is a rejection of our most important family members: our loving heavenly Father, our brother Jesus, and our closest comforter, the Holy Spirit. There is a complete network of love and support but we turn our backs on it because of a lack of recognition. This is the condition of the world in its unbelief. This is often referred to as being "lost," a term that is very fitting for the spiritual amnesiac.
These verses show that a lack of recognition leads inevitably to a lack of reception. We give the best reception to those whom we know and love the most. If I am not giving Jesus a very warm reception in my daily life I need to trace the problem back up the line. How well do I really know him? The Gospels are the meeting place and if I'm not spending time in the Gospels I begin to be afflicted with bouts of temporary amnesia. This in turn leads me to a loss of connection with my Father, Brother, and Comforter. I begin to enter into an experience of lostness where the ground seems to go out from under my feet - insecurity, loneliness, anxiety, purposelessness, come to underlie all of the normal experiences of life. At first it is only a sense, something hard to put your finger on, but left to grow it becomes a thief and a robber of the joy of life. All this can be prevented by regularly going to the meeting place and staying connected with the greatest lover the world has ever known; Jesus the lover of my soul.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
"The light of the world..."
Reading John 1:4-9
"The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world." (v9)
My life is a juxtaposition of darkness and light, each element unexplainable in its own way. How can I account for the presence of either? The presence of goodness is as problematic as the presence of evil. What makes it even more confusing is the presence of both in one person's life. The world I know, the people I know, is a whirl of both strains that makes for warfare, conflict, and confrontation both between people and within the individual. At the end of history, my personal history or the history of the world, which will win out, the darkness or the light?
John answers the question like this: "The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." This is the reading of the NIV but John made his statement in a deliberately ambiguous way (something John was fond of doing). His statement can mean both (and he probably intended both) that the darkness has not understood the light and that the darkness has not overcome the light. The light of Jesus is not a logic that can be comprehended by evil. In a world of tremendous evil there is no explaining the goodness of God. God's goodness presses in to the evil and gets into close proximity with it, it loves the unlovely, it sacrifices itself for the salvation of the enemy, it could call down lightning but refuses to, it could crush in an instant but waits patiently for repentance. The light can not be understood by the darkness, its presuppositions are totally foreign to evil.
John also says that the light cannot be overcome by the darkness. In Jesus it will be shown that goodness is more powerful than evil. Goodness is connected to life (another of John's favorite themes) but evil is connected to death and destruction. The light of Jesus will overcome the darkness in us. Our strategy in the war against evil is to have more of Jesus, more of the light of the world.
"The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world." (v9)
My life is a juxtaposition of darkness and light, each element unexplainable in its own way. How can I account for the presence of either? The presence of goodness is as problematic as the presence of evil. What makes it even more confusing is the presence of both in one person's life. The world I know, the people I know, is a whirl of both strains that makes for warfare, conflict, and confrontation both between people and within the individual. At the end of history, my personal history or the history of the world, which will win out, the darkness or the light?
John answers the question like this: "The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." This is the reading of the NIV but John made his statement in a deliberately ambiguous way (something John was fond of doing). His statement can mean both (and he probably intended both) that the darkness has not understood the light and that the darkness has not overcome the light. The light of Jesus is not a logic that can be comprehended by evil. In a world of tremendous evil there is no explaining the goodness of God. God's goodness presses in to the evil and gets into close proximity with it, it loves the unlovely, it sacrifices itself for the salvation of the enemy, it could call down lightning but refuses to, it could crush in an instant but waits patiently for repentance. The light can not be understood by the darkness, its presuppositions are totally foreign to evil.
John also says that the light cannot be overcome by the darkness. In Jesus it will be shown that goodness is more powerful than evil. Goodness is connected to life (another of John's favorite themes) but evil is connected to death and destruction. The light of Jesus will overcome the darkness in us. Our strategy in the war against evil is to have more of Jesus, more of the light of the world.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
"In him was life..."
Reading John 1:3-4
"Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men."
The fact of existence is rooted in the person of Jesus Christ. The whole physical universe has its explanation in him. Jesus was the executor of the Father's command: "Let there be...". All of the physical sciences sit on the foundation of the creation. The Psalmist says that "the heavens declare the glory of God...". We have not understood the creation if we only see it as a wonder. The message of the physical is not simply that nature is a marvel but that God is glorious. Nature is never fully understood until it is understood as a creative work.
John tells us that not only the fact of existence is rooted in the person of Jesus but so also is the meaning of existence. The meaning of life can be seen in an encounter with the living Christ. "In him was life and that life was the light of men." The answer to what we are here for, what life is all about, is fully discovered by reflection on the life of Christ. This is John's introduction to his Gospel. He is telling us that as we read about Jesus, about all that he said and did, that we will discover the meaning of life, of our life. The incarnate life of God translates something that is eternal and distant into something that is finite and near. We can grasp the meaning of life when we look at Jesus' life.
Later John records that Jesus said: "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10). It was God's intention that we would not only understand the fact and meaning of life but that we would participate in it to the full. When I read the Gospel I am intended to see in Jesus' life something about my life. I am intended to see what God has in mind for me. I have been invited to participate in the life of God as the ultimate fulfillment possible in this world. This is reflected in Jesus' prayer in John 17: "I pray...that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me...".
"Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men."
The fact of existence is rooted in the person of Jesus Christ. The whole physical universe has its explanation in him. Jesus was the executor of the Father's command: "Let there be...". All of the physical sciences sit on the foundation of the creation. The Psalmist says that "the heavens declare the glory of God...". We have not understood the creation if we only see it as a wonder. The message of the physical is not simply that nature is a marvel but that God is glorious. Nature is never fully understood until it is understood as a creative work.
John tells us that not only the fact of existence is rooted in the person of Jesus but so also is the meaning of existence. The meaning of life can be seen in an encounter with the living Christ. "In him was life and that life was the light of men." The answer to what we are here for, what life is all about, is fully discovered by reflection on the life of Christ. This is John's introduction to his Gospel. He is telling us that as we read about Jesus, about all that he said and did, that we will discover the meaning of life, of our life. The incarnate life of God translates something that is eternal and distant into something that is finite and near. We can grasp the meaning of life when we look at Jesus' life.
Later John records that Jesus said: "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10). It was God's intention that we would not only understand the fact and meaning of life but that we would participate in it to the full. When I read the Gospel I am intended to see in Jesus' life something about my life. I am intended to see what God has in mind for me. I have been invited to participate in the life of God as the ultimate fulfillment possible in this world. This is reflected in Jesus' prayer in John 17: "I pray...that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me...".
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
"In the beginning was the Word..."
Reading John 1:1
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God."
God has many names. Everyone of his names communicates something essential about his character or about his relationship to his creation. I cannot imagine any era of history that could appreciate more the name we have presented here, "the Word," than the information age in which we live. We are only now beginning to discover how incredibly information rich every piece of biological matter on this planet is. The complexity of communication within a single cell is breath-taking. The Bible is clear that the "words" behind all of this communication is nothing less than the voice of God, speaking his unending "let there be...".
God as "Word" has opened the lines of communication between himself and those whome he has uniquely created in his own image. It is his intention to speak. It is his intention that we would hear and understand. The reason that a finite human being can cognitively interpret speech from an infinite God is a matter of God's intention, expressed in his design. God's communication to us is rich, vivid, "broad-band," if you will.
"In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son..." Hebrews 1:1-2
We are both a receiver and a broadcaster of information. How well we receive from God has a big impact on how well we broadcast. God is an intentional and persistant communicator. Is there anything that is interfering with my reception?
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God."
God has many names. Everyone of his names communicates something essential about his character or about his relationship to his creation. I cannot imagine any era of history that could appreciate more the name we have presented here, "the Word," than the information age in which we live. We are only now beginning to discover how incredibly information rich every piece of biological matter on this planet is. The complexity of communication within a single cell is breath-taking. The Bible is clear that the "words" behind all of this communication is nothing less than the voice of God, speaking his unending "let there be...".
God as "Word" has opened the lines of communication between himself and those whome he has uniquely created in his own image. It is his intention to speak. It is his intention that we would hear and understand. The reason that a finite human being can cognitively interpret speech from an infinite God is a matter of God's intention, expressed in his design. God's communication to us is rich, vivid, "broad-band," if you will.
"In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son..." Hebrews 1:1-2
We are both a receiver and a broadcaster of information. How well we receive from God has a big impact on how well we broadcast. God is an intentional and persistant communicator. Is there anything that is interfering with my reception?
Monday, December 05, 2005
"Come to me ... "
Continuing to Read Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."
Truth is hard to come by. There are lots of good ideas out there but truth is another matter altogether. Even for those who believe in absolute (revealed) truth, as I do, truth is highly personal. What I mean by this is that truth is not a neutral entity for me, it is not something I can indifferently look up in a book and sign my affirmation to. Truth is entangled with the whole of my life. It has deep implications for everything that is important to me. I have foundational reasons both to hate and to love truth. Truth can be tampered with, adjusted, redirected, twisted, crippled. I can even use one truth to destroy another. But what does this have to do with Jesus invitation to "come to me"? It has everything to do with it! If I am going to explore truth as it relates to my weariness, my burdens, and my need for rest I will have the best success if I do it with someone I trust. The more I trust Jesus the more I will allow him to speak whatever I need to hear. The more I trust Jesus the more I will be willing to let down my guard, give up my defensiveness, admit my hidden motivations and even my resistance to "being told." This is why Jesus says "take my yoke upon you and learn from me...". The only way we can face the really important truths is by getting into relationship with Jesus. Any attempt to get to the truth in some abstract, impersonal, way is doomed to failure. Jesus invites us to have an encounter with truth in the safety of his presence..."and you WILL find rest for your soul...".
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."
Truth is hard to come by. There are lots of good ideas out there but truth is another matter altogether. Even for those who believe in absolute (revealed) truth, as I do, truth is highly personal. What I mean by this is that truth is not a neutral entity for me, it is not something I can indifferently look up in a book and sign my affirmation to. Truth is entangled with the whole of my life. It has deep implications for everything that is important to me. I have foundational reasons both to hate and to love truth. Truth can be tampered with, adjusted, redirected, twisted, crippled. I can even use one truth to destroy another. But what does this have to do with Jesus invitation to "come to me"? It has everything to do with it! If I am going to explore truth as it relates to my weariness, my burdens, and my need for rest I will have the best success if I do it with someone I trust. The more I trust Jesus the more I will allow him to speak whatever I need to hear. The more I trust Jesus the more I will be willing to let down my guard, give up my defensiveness, admit my hidden motivations and even my resistance to "being told." This is why Jesus says "take my yoke upon you and learn from me...". The only way we can face the really important truths is by getting into relationship with Jesus. Any attempt to get to the truth in some abstract, impersonal, way is doomed to failure. Jesus invites us to have an encounter with truth in the safety of his presence..."and you WILL find rest for your soul...".
Sunday, December 04, 2005
"...never follow a stranger..."
Continuing to read Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me..."
Our world is full of voices, both literal and metaphorical, that are saying "come to me." Sometimes it's a cacophony of whispers, sometimes it's a shouting match, sometimes one or another voice rises above the others with great insistance. What do I do with all the voices?
In the midst of the voices Jesus says "come to me." Hearing one voice in a crowd is a matter of familiarity. We can enter a room full of people and immediately pick out the voice of the one we know and love. Jesus said that "his sheep follow him because they know his voice" (John 10:4). If we don't want to be thrown off or misled by the confusion of voices the onus is on us to become accustomed to Jesus' voice, to the way he speaks, the kind of themes he addresses, the values he has, the way he puts out a warning, the way he expresses his love. If I don't know him very well then any voice might sound like his voice, particularly if I want it too.
After Jesus says that "his sheep know his voice" he goes on to say "they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize the stranger's voice" (John 10:5). Parents are always shocked to find that their children would go off with a stranger. It takes time for children to learn that not every kind voice or every kind offer is genuine, is reflective of that parental love that they have become used to. In the same way it takes time (in some cases a long time and a lot of hard lessons) for the Christian to be able to discern the difference between Jesus and the spiritual stranger.
When times of great anxiety and need, or offers of great opportunity, come to us it is easy to confuse the voices and find ourselves going down a road that can only lead to grief. The remedy for this is to invest in the relationship. Get to know Jesus very well. Be intentional about your daily time with God.
"I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me..." (John 10:14). We are not safe just because Jesus knows us, because Jesus is willing to let us go a long way from home if that is what we really want.
Get to know Jesus and "never follow a stranger...".
"Come to me..."
Our world is full of voices, both literal and metaphorical, that are saying "come to me." Sometimes it's a cacophony of whispers, sometimes it's a shouting match, sometimes one or another voice rises above the others with great insistance. What do I do with all the voices?
In the midst of the voices Jesus says "come to me." Hearing one voice in a crowd is a matter of familiarity. We can enter a room full of people and immediately pick out the voice of the one we know and love. Jesus said that "his sheep follow him because they know his voice" (John 10:4). If we don't want to be thrown off or misled by the confusion of voices the onus is on us to become accustomed to Jesus' voice, to the way he speaks, the kind of themes he addresses, the values he has, the way he puts out a warning, the way he expresses his love. If I don't know him very well then any voice might sound like his voice, particularly if I want it too.
After Jesus says that "his sheep know his voice" he goes on to say "they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize the stranger's voice" (John 10:5). Parents are always shocked to find that their children would go off with a stranger. It takes time for children to learn that not every kind voice or every kind offer is genuine, is reflective of that parental love that they have become used to. In the same way it takes time (in some cases a long time and a lot of hard lessons) for the Christian to be able to discern the difference between Jesus and the spiritual stranger.
When times of great anxiety and need, or offers of great opportunity, come to us it is easy to confuse the voices and find ourselves going down a road that can only lead to grief. The remedy for this is to invest in the relationship. Get to know Jesus very well. Be intentional about your daily time with God.
"I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me..." (John 10:14). We are not safe just because Jesus knows us, because Jesus is willing to let us go a long way from home if that is what we really want.
Get to know Jesus and "never follow a stranger...".
Friday, December 02, 2005
"Come to me ... and learn from me..."
Continuing to read Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me..."
This meditation prepared with the help of:
1. One very large cup of dark roast Columbian coffee.
2. The Brandenburg Concertos
The things we need to learn to convert weariness and burden into rest can only be learned by coming to Jesus. They cannot be learned at at safe distance. They cannot be reduced to lessons and principles that can be taught in a lecture and detached from the person of Jesus. How much of my spiritual/church life is actually a coming to Jesus? This is why prayer is so central to the spiritual life. That is, prayer as a coming to Jesus and not as a tool to control my life and the lives of others (not to mention God), or as a Christian rain dance (the right ceremony or sacramental act), or Christian magic (looking for just the right words), but as a conversation with the lover of my soul, as a "being with" the person who has already acted (was crucified) to secure my rest, both in this world and the next. This is an acceptance that what I need to ensure rest from my burden has already been accomplished. I just keep coming to the one who has secured this for me so that I can enter into an already accomplished peace.
This coming to Jesus involves certain risks, to name a few:
1. Trusting myself to another - can Jesus be trusted with my life?
2. Facing the most painful aspects of my weariness and burderns.
3. Surrender to someone greater than myself.
4. Moving outside the strict definitions of rationality and trusting in revelation.
-reference faith, "things not seen", the invisible (per Hebrews 11)
5. Engaging with an "absolute" authority.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me..."
This meditation prepared with the help of:
1. One very large cup of dark roast Columbian coffee.
2. The Brandenburg Concertos
The things we need to learn to convert weariness and burden into rest can only be learned by coming to Jesus. They cannot be learned at at safe distance. They cannot be reduced to lessons and principles that can be taught in a lecture and detached from the person of Jesus. How much of my spiritual/church life is actually a coming to Jesus? This is why prayer is so central to the spiritual life. That is, prayer as a coming to Jesus and not as a tool to control my life and the lives of others (not to mention God), or as a Christian rain dance (the right ceremony or sacramental act), or Christian magic (looking for just the right words), but as a conversation with the lover of my soul, as a "being with" the person who has already acted (was crucified) to secure my rest, both in this world and the next. This is an acceptance that what I need to ensure rest from my burden has already been accomplished. I just keep coming to the one who has secured this for me so that I can enter into an already accomplished peace.
This coming to Jesus involves certain risks, to name a few:
1. Trusting myself to another - can Jesus be trusted with my life?
2. Facing the most painful aspects of my weariness and burderns.
3. Surrender to someone greater than myself.
4. Moving outside the strict definitions of rationality and trusting in revelation.
-reference faith, "things not seen", the invisible (per Hebrews 11)
5. Engaging with an "absolute" authority.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Coming to Jesus is not like coming to church
Continuing to read Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened..."
Coming to Jesus is not like coming to church. We don't have to leave our burdens at home and make ourselves presentable. We don't drop our burdens at the door, enter into his presence, and then pick them up again on the way out. There are lots of things that we do to take our minds off of our troubles, coming to Jesus is not one of them. All of our entertainments, spiritual or otherwise may provide some relief, reprieve, and distraction from the things that weary us, and it's important to have this kind of outlet in our lives. But coming to Jesus is not a distraction from the central issues of our life. We don't come to Jesus to feel spiritual, to feel forgiven, or to get rest. Many of the things that we come to Jesus for are only a byproduct of coming to him with our burdens. To come to Jesus to get rest is like trying to catch a butterfly: the more you chase it the further away it flies. Rest is the result, not of pursuing rest in Jesus, but of bringing our concerns to him.
The most important burden to bring to Jesus is the burden of our own sin. We feel its weight, and "weight", is an appropriate biblical word for our sin (Heb. 12:1). This weight is the most fruitful of all the burdens we can bring to Jesus. I would like Jesus to give me rest without making me face my sin. I don't want my time with Jesus to be a confrontation, I want it to be pleasant. But Jesus knows that its getting wearisome for me to keep carrying around the same old garbage day in and day out, year after year. He wants me to bring my burdens into the relationship with him. It is both an act of desperation and an act of courage to come to him with all of my stuff. So many Christians have an unfruitful relationship with God because they aren't willing for God to talk straight with them about their life. Bring your burdens to Jesus and he will give you rest.
I find that we are often reluctant to bring the burden of what others have done to us into our fellowship with Jesus for similar reasons. We don't want to feel the pain again, don't want to be reminded of it. We don't want to have to forgive, don't want to feel like we are being forced into yet another injustice. We don't want to acknowledge that our own sin may have played a role in our being hurt.
Jesus can't heal a burden that is not brought to him. If I keep my suffering, my sin, my anger, my bitterness, outside the door of my spiritual life I will find that I experience a temporary distraction through prayer and worship and bible study but that I receive no significant healing. Many people multiply their spiritual exercises and devotions hoping in this way to crush the burdens that they are carrying around. The actual result is that all the pressure creates a counter force that eventually erupts in ever more pain.
Don't think that when Jesus says: "Come to me, you who are weary and burdened..." that he is inviting you to a world of make believe where your sin and the pain inflicted on you by other's sin no longer matters. As the verse goes on to say, he is inviting you to put on a yoke, to pull with him in one harness, to accomplish the work that leads to rest and peace.
Is the place where I meet with Jesus a truly honest place or do I bring my penchant for keeping secrets into the most holy place of my life?
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened..."
Coming to Jesus is not like coming to church. We don't have to leave our burdens at home and make ourselves presentable. We don't drop our burdens at the door, enter into his presence, and then pick them up again on the way out. There are lots of things that we do to take our minds off of our troubles, coming to Jesus is not one of them. All of our entertainments, spiritual or otherwise may provide some relief, reprieve, and distraction from the things that weary us, and it's important to have this kind of outlet in our lives. But coming to Jesus is not a distraction from the central issues of our life. We don't come to Jesus to feel spiritual, to feel forgiven, or to get rest. Many of the things that we come to Jesus for are only a byproduct of coming to him with our burdens. To come to Jesus to get rest is like trying to catch a butterfly: the more you chase it the further away it flies. Rest is the result, not of pursuing rest in Jesus, but of bringing our concerns to him.
The most important burden to bring to Jesus is the burden of our own sin. We feel its weight, and "weight", is an appropriate biblical word for our sin (Heb. 12:1). This weight is the most fruitful of all the burdens we can bring to Jesus. I would like Jesus to give me rest without making me face my sin. I don't want my time with Jesus to be a confrontation, I want it to be pleasant. But Jesus knows that its getting wearisome for me to keep carrying around the same old garbage day in and day out, year after year. He wants me to bring my burdens into the relationship with him. It is both an act of desperation and an act of courage to come to him with all of my stuff. So many Christians have an unfruitful relationship with God because they aren't willing for God to talk straight with them about their life. Bring your burdens to Jesus and he will give you rest.
I find that we are often reluctant to bring the burden of what others have done to us into our fellowship with Jesus for similar reasons. We don't want to feel the pain again, don't want to be reminded of it. We don't want to have to forgive, don't want to feel like we are being forced into yet another injustice. We don't want to acknowledge that our own sin may have played a role in our being hurt.
Jesus can't heal a burden that is not brought to him. If I keep my suffering, my sin, my anger, my bitterness, outside the door of my spiritual life I will find that I experience a temporary distraction through prayer and worship and bible study but that I receive no significant healing. Many people multiply their spiritual exercises and devotions hoping in this way to crush the burdens that they are carrying around. The actual result is that all the pressure creates a counter force that eventually erupts in ever more pain.
Don't think that when Jesus says: "Come to me, you who are weary and burdened..." that he is inviting you to a world of make believe where your sin and the pain inflicted on you by other's sin no longer matters. As the verse goes on to say, he is inviting you to put on a yoke, to pull with him in one harness, to accomplish the work that leads to rest and peace.
Is the place where I meet with Jesus a truly honest place or do I bring my penchant for keeping secrets into the most holy place of my life?
Sunday, November 27, 2005
The importance of steeped tea
This morning our pastor was talking about the value of "steeped" tea. (Now don't get the wrong impression about our pastor from this. He runs his ministry on pure java but he is still able to identify with those living in the tea counter-culture.) His point was that we should not simply rush on from passage to passage in our Bible study. From time to time we should just sit with one passage and revisit it day after day until all the nutrients and flavour of the words begin to be released into our hearts and minds. As I listened to him I decided that I would take a couple of verses and stick with them for a while to see what would happen. I'll record the results here. So, here's what were going to steep:
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30
I love the invitations in Scripture, they are so welcoming and accepting. I love to hear Jesus say "come to me." He has such interesting ways of determining who qualifies to come. He doesn't say, "come to me all you Jews" or "come to me all you religious people" or "come to me all you good living people" or "come to me all you intelligent people" but "come to me all you who are weary and burdened." Anyone carrying around a disappointment, a hurt, a wound. Anyone tired of living, worn out from the battle, used up, spent, down to their last crust, running out of rope. "Come to me." We're used to invitations in our culture. The whole advertising industry is one big invititation: "Come to me all you who have money and I will satisfy your needs with clothes, tools, toys, technology..." But God says: "Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:1-2). (Make appropriate applications here to the Christmas holiday mindset).
"Come to me." Something is being required here. It is not required that we be anything but needy, nonetheless there is something being asked of us. "Come." We are being asked to come. I thought of all the people who intentionally got up, burden and all, and came to Jesus. I thought of Zaccheus who climbed a tree and waited. I thought of the four friends who ripped their neighbours roof off so they could bring their friend to Jesus. I thought of the woman with the "issue of blood" who got in close enough to reach out and touch Jesus. I thought of the Centurion who came to Jesus for his son. I thought of example after example of people who got up and went looking for Jesus. It's not people who are weary and burdened who find rest. Its people who are weary and burdened and who get up under the weight of that burden and come to Jesus. This is what I am doing by steeping this tea. I'm coming to Jesus. I'm responding to his invitation. I'm telling him what's on my heart. I'm getting into proximity with him. I'm reaching out and touching him. I'm ripping the roof off of what ever is standing between me and a relationship with him. I'm getting into touching position. I'm getting into listening position. I'm comparing Jesus' invitation with all of the other invitations that came in the mail this week, as inserts in the newspaper, and as flyers and shout outs from all the people who are ready to meet my needs for a small fee.
Let the steeping begin.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30
I love the invitations in Scripture, they are so welcoming and accepting. I love to hear Jesus say "come to me." He has such interesting ways of determining who qualifies to come. He doesn't say, "come to me all you Jews" or "come to me all you religious people" or "come to me all you good living people" or "come to me all you intelligent people" but "come to me all you who are weary and burdened." Anyone carrying around a disappointment, a hurt, a wound. Anyone tired of living, worn out from the battle, used up, spent, down to their last crust, running out of rope. "Come to me." We're used to invitations in our culture. The whole advertising industry is one big invititation: "Come to me all you who have money and I will satisfy your needs with clothes, tools, toys, technology..." But God says: "Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:1-2). (Make appropriate applications here to the Christmas holiday mindset).
"Come to me." Something is being required here. It is not required that we be anything but needy, nonetheless there is something being asked of us. "Come." We are being asked to come. I thought of all the people who intentionally got up, burden and all, and came to Jesus. I thought of Zaccheus who climbed a tree and waited. I thought of the four friends who ripped their neighbours roof off so they could bring their friend to Jesus. I thought of the woman with the "issue of blood" who got in close enough to reach out and touch Jesus. I thought of the Centurion who came to Jesus for his son. I thought of example after example of people who got up and went looking for Jesus. It's not people who are weary and burdened who find rest. Its people who are weary and burdened and who get up under the weight of that burden and come to Jesus. This is what I am doing by steeping this tea. I'm coming to Jesus. I'm responding to his invitation. I'm telling him what's on my heart. I'm getting into proximity with him. I'm reaching out and touching him. I'm ripping the roof off of what ever is standing between me and a relationship with him. I'm getting into touching position. I'm getting into listening position. I'm comparing Jesus' invitation with all of the other invitations that came in the mail this week, as inserts in the newspaper, and as flyers and shout outs from all the people who are ready to meet my needs for a small fee.
Let the steeping begin.
Friday, November 25, 2005
"We do not want you to become lazy..."
Continuing to read Hebrews 6:7-12
"We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised."
Since at least the sixth century the church has thought of laziness (sloth) as one of the "seven deadly sins." This spiritual problem has been thought about so much over the years that it has been given a technical name: "acedia." Acedia is a Greek word that refers to the malaise, or sluggishness of spirit, that lies unexamined in a person's life. Laziness is the symptom, the light on the dashboard, that warns of the presence of the problem.
This is a laziness that can be present in the context of a very busy life, a life filled with activity and far reaching goals. The specific reference of this laziness is our lack of love for God that results in our neglect of "helping his people and continuing to help them." We don't love God if we don't love what God loves, and God loves people. I can easily make the case that God also loves what I'm most interested in, of course he does, but that is not the issue here. The issue here is that "God so loved the world that he gave...". I am being challenged to get in touch with what God "so loved...". The specific object of his giving was the lost, broken, wounded souls that he created to live in fellowship with him.
This is a deep challenge for me. It is not opposed to my nature (I was created in the image of God, to be like him), but it is opposed to my history (which I'll spare you). The roots of acedia are not biological but historical whether viewed in terms of the individual or the entire sweep of human life on this planet. Courage is required to turn our backs on a history that feeds the malaise. Others have found the way through: "imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised." We may begin by imitating but we will end by inheriting. Love can be learned and it can dispel the gloomy spirit. Carry on with "faith" and "patience."
"We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised."
Since at least the sixth century the church has thought of laziness (sloth) as one of the "seven deadly sins." This spiritual problem has been thought about so much over the years that it has been given a technical name: "acedia." Acedia is a Greek word that refers to the malaise, or sluggishness of spirit, that lies unexamined in a person's life. Laziness is the symptom, the light on the dashboard, that warns of the presence of the problem.
This is a laziness that can be present in the context of a very busy life, a life filled with activity and far reaching goals. The specific reference of this laziness is our lack of love for God that results in our neglect of "helping his people and continuing to help them." We don't love God if we don't love what God loves, and God loves people. I can easily make the case that God also loves what I'm most interested in, of course he does, but that is not the issue here. The issue here is that "God so loved the world that he gave...". I am being challenged to get in touch with what God "so loved...". The specific object of his giving was the lost, broken, wounded souls that he created to live in fellowship with him.
This is a deep challenge for me. It is not opposed to my nature (I was created in the image of God, to be like him), but it is opposed to my history (which I'll spare you). The roots of acedia are not biological but historical whether viewed in terms of the individual or the entire sweep of human life on this planet. Courage is required to turn our backs on a history that feeds the malaise. Others have found the way through: "imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised." We may begin by imitating but we will end by inheriting. Love can be learned and it can dispel the gloomy spirit. Carry on with "faith" and "patience."
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
"...show...diligence..."
Continuing to read Hebrews 6:7-12
"We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure."
This is a much deeper challenge than it first appears to be. I was tempted to pass over this verse quickly, perhaps just to rap up this section with one last blog and move on to something else. Diligence has never been a problem for me. I always have a multitude of interests and projects on the go. Mix these in with all of the usual responsibilities of work and family life and you have both a mandate and a recipe for diligence. Fortunately I had one of those sober second thoughts before I moved away from this subject. Hermeneutical lesson number one: pay close attention to context. This verse is not about diligence. This verse is about the previous verse. Diligence is not the goal, it is the means to the goal. What the writer is pressing home here is not that we would be hard working, driven people but that we would be people who are all about loving God and others. Diligence of one sort can be the enemy of diligence of another sort. My focused, passionate life, either in my work or my hobbies, can submerge my attention to the fact that I live in a world where love is given and received, neglected and ignored, cherished and explored. The two great commandments are not about empire building, not about making my mark, not about asset acquisition, they say simply: love God (with everything you've got) and love the people around you (as much as you love yourself). If this seems like a truism, simply a restatement of the obvious, then I suspect that we are attempting to brush aside this challenge. These two basic commandments challenge everything we are as self-centered, material obsessed, worldly beings. We are being asked here to get in touch with the deepest priorities of the living God who "loved us and gave himself for us."
The promise that is attached to this application of diligence to our relationships with God and people is that we will "make our hope sure." The mark of the person who lacks faith is that he is "without hope and without God in the world." When I enter into meaningful relationships of love and nurture I will increase my sense of hope. Hope is a by-product of relationship. Relationship increases security, isolation feeds insecurity and meaninglessness. We are not being asked to do something here that has no payoff. Our duty to love is a deeply self rewarding activity. What greater gift could I give to myself than the gift of hope?
"We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure."
This is a much deeper challenge than it first appears to be. I was tempted to pass over this verse quickly, perhaps just to rap up this section with one last blog and move on to something else. Diligence has never been a problem for me. I always have a multitude of interests and projects on the go. Mix these in with all of the usual responsibilities of work and family life and you have both a mandate and a recipe for diligence. Fortunately I had one of those sober second thoughts before I moved away from this subject. Hermeneutical lesson number one: pay close attention to context. This verse is not about diligence. This verse is about the previous verse. Diligence is not the goal, it is the means to the goal. What the writer is pressing home here is not that we would be hard working, driven people but that we would be people who are all about loving God and others. Diligence of one sort can be the enemy of diligence of another sort. My focused, passionate life, either in my work or my hobbies, can submerge my attention to the fact that I live in a world where love is given and received, neglected and ignored, cherished and explored. The two great commandments are not about empire building, not about making my mark, not about asset acquisition, they say simply: love God (with everything you've got) and love the people around you (as much as you love yourself). If this seems like a truism, simply a restatement of the obvious, then I suspect that we are attempting to brush aside this challenge. These two basic commandments challenge everything we are as self-centered, material obsessed, worldly beings. We are being asked here to get in touch with the deepest priorities of the living God who "loved us and gave himself for us."
The promise that is attached to this application of diligence to our relationships with God and people is that we will "make our hope sure." The mark of the person who lacks faith is that he is "without hope and without God in the world." When I enter into meaningful relationships of love and nurture I will increase my sense of hope. Hope is a by-product of relationship. Relationship increases security, isolation feeds insecurity and meaninglessness. We are not being asked to do something here that has no payoff. Our duty to love is a deeply self rewarding activity. What greater gift could I give to myself than the gift of hope?
Thursday, November 17, 2005
We interupt this program...
I'll take a break from Hebrews today to comment on a post by Sunshine over at A Dream of Being Orange. Sunshine is discussing the role that grace plays in destroying "the root of bitterness." At the end of her post she quotes this verse from II Samuel 14:14
"Like water spilled on the ground which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But God does not take away life; instead, He devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from Him."
We think we know God. We think we know how he will react to various scenarios in our lives. Just when I'm ready to pronounce on what God's actions will be in a certain situation he comes up with an "instead." When its time to call down fire from heaven, Jesus says... "instead...". When its time to destroy Nineveh, God says... "instead...". When it looks like a good day for a stoning, Jesus says... "instead...". When the prodigal son is prepared to live the rest of his life in shame, the Father says... "instead...". When I've stubbornly gone my own way, again, and expect I've tried His patience one too many times, God says... "instead...". When someone I love disappoints me and I decide to walk away or give them the silent treatment, I think I'll say... "instead...". Wouldn't that be just like God. "Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Eph. 5:1).
"Like water spilled on the ground which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But God does not take away life; instead, He devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from Him."
We think we know God. We think we know how he will react to various scenarios in our lives. Just when I'm ready to pronounce on what God's actions will be in a certain situation he comes up with an "instead." When its time to call down fire from heaven, Jesus says... "instead...". When its time to destroy Nineveh, God says... "instead...". When it looks like a good day for a stoning, Jesus says... "instead...". When the prodigal son is prepared to live the rest of his life in shame, the Father says... "instead...". When I've stubbornly gone my own way, again, and expect I've tried His patience one too many times, God says... "instead...". When someone I love disappoints me and I decide to walk away or give them the silent treatment, I think I'll say... "instead...". Wouldn't that be just like God. "Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Eph. 5:1).
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
"God is not unjust..."
Continuing to Read Hebrews 6:7-12
"God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them."
The encouragement continues, against the background of a solemn warning, and procedes to address a potential point of discouragement. There are some brief phrases that pop into our minds from time to time as we travel along this path of producing a useful harvest. Phrases such as "its not fair," "its not worth it," "I'm just wasting my time," "I'm not appreciated," "it doesn't make any difference anyway," sneak up on us and club us over the head. These are the points in our Christian life when we find ourselves standing there feeling rather stunned. Its a short leap from these rather general statements to the more specific: "God isn't fair." If it helps me to acknowledge the presence of these thoughts at points in my life, I can remember Jeremiah (accusing God of being a deceptive stream, sometimes there's water and sometimes its just dry), or Jonah (accusing God of loving the wrong people and of giving him a bummer of an assignment), etc.
Just so that there isn't any confusion about this the writer of this letter takes the time to say: "God is not unjust." God takes note of all the things you have done for Him as you have served your family, friends, and enemies. Others may take you for granted, fail to thank you, remember only the bad and forget all the good. But "God will not forget your work and ... love ...". Everything we do for one another in this world is taken as "love shown to God." The same God who forgets our sins is the God who never forgets our love. Keep on working at the harvest. God is watching with loving attention.
"God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them."
The encouragement continues, against the background of a solemn warning, and procedes to address a potential point of discouragement. There are some brief phrases that pop into our minds from time to time as we travel along this path of producing a useful harvest. Phrases such as "its not fair," "its not worth it," "I'm just wasting my time," "I'm not appreciated," "it doesn't make any difference anyway," sneak up on us and club us over the head. These are the points in our Christian life when we find ourselves standing there feeling rather stunned. Its a short leap from these rather general statements to the more specific: "God isn't fair." If it helps me to acknowledge the presence of these thoughts at points in my life, I can remember Jeremiah (accusing God of being a deceptive stream, sometimes there's water and sometimes its just dry), or Jonah (accusing God of loving the wrong people and of giving him a bummer of an assignment), etc.
Just so that there isn't any confusion about this the writer of this letter takes the time to say: "God is not unjust." God takes note of all the things you have done for Him as you have served your family, friends, and enemies. Others may take you for granted, fail to thank you, remember only the bad and forget all the good. But "God will not forget your work and ... love ...". Everything we do for one another in this world is taken as "love shown to God." The same God who forgets our sins is the God who never forgets our love. Keep on working at the harvest. God is watching with loving attention.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
"...we are confident of better things in your case..."
Continuing to read Hebrews 6:7-12
"Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are confident of better things in your case - things that accompany salvation."
The warnings are serious, the acceptance of responsibility for my spiritual life is serious, the consequences for neglect are serious BUT "even though we speak like this" we need to realize that there is a very powerful positive force at work in our life. "We are confident of better things." There is reason to be confident concerning our own lives and the lives of those we love who are in Jesus that "better things" than thorns and thistles will come up out of the good soil on which the seed of God's word has fallen. This is the point of balance that God wants us to live our lives on. Living in tension with the warnings and the promises. Listening equally to the curses and the blessings. Do not be discouraged by the presence of thorns and thistles, take responsibility for them, own up to them, repent of them and be confident that better things are in store for those who have given their lives to Jesus. There are things "that accompany salvation" that are working themselves out in my life. I can be confident of this as I let God speak to me about my actions, attitudes, thoughts and desires.
Not everyone, of course is in the same "case" in this world, but "we are confident of better things in YOUR CASE."
"Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are confident of better things in your case - things that accompany salvation."
The warnings are serious, the acceptance of responsibility for my spiritual life is serious, the consequences for neglect are serious BUT "even though we speak like this" we need to realize that there is a very powerful positive force at work in our life. "We are confident of better things." There is reason to be confident concerning our own lives and the lives of those we love who are in Jesus that "better things" than thorns and thistles will come up out of the good soil on which the seed of God's word has fallen. This is the point of balance that God wants us to live our lives on. Living in tension with the warnings and the promises. Listening equally to the curses and the blessings. Do not be discouraged by the presence of thorns and thistles, take responsibility for them, own up to them, repent of them and be confident that better things are in store for those who have given their lives to Jesus. There are things "that accompany salvation" that are working themselves out in my life. I can be confident of this as I let God speak to me about my actions, attitudes, thoughts and desires.
Not everyone, of course is in the same "case" in this world, but "we are confident of better things in YOUR CASE."
Saturday, November 12, 2005
"Land that produces thorns and thistles..."
Continuing to read Hebrews 6:7-12
"Land that produces thorns and thistles is worthless and is in danger of being cursed. In the end it will be destroyed."
It is abundantly easy to grow thorns and thistles, even on land (perhaps particularly on land) that previously has been cultivated for better crops. The recipe for growing weeds is neglect and inattention. No watering, fertilizing, or pruning is required. The takeover of the weeds makes the field "worthless," which is in stark contrast to the cultivated field, which is "useful."
We are here talking about the spiritual field that is our life. A spiritual field like this is not in a neutral position. It is "in danger." It runs a risk "of being cursed." Even a very good field has some content of weeds but danger to the harvest increases as weeds are allowed to multiply out of control. It is up to me to take responsibility for the weed content of my field. I value my field and keep a close eye on the invasion of weeds in my thoughts, my private life, my choices, and my relationships. I know that a field that gets out of control will not go on that way forever, there is an endpoint to every abandoned field: "it will be destroyed."
God has made us all landowners. How is the harvest coming along?
"Land that produces thorns and thistles is worthless and is in danger of being cursed. In the end it will be destroyed."
It is abundantly easy to grow thorns and thistles, even on land (perhaps particularly on land) that previously has been cultivated for better crops. The recipe for growing weeds is neglect and inattention. No watering, fertilizing, or pruning is required. The takeover of the weeds makes the field "worthless," which is in stark contrast to the cultivated field, which is "useful."
We are here talking about the spiritual field that is our life. A spiritual field like this is not in a neutral position. It is "in danger." It runs a risk "of being cursed." Even a very good field has some content of weeds but danger to the harvest increases as weeds are allowed to multiply out of control. It is up to me to take responsibility for the weed content of my field. I value my field and keep a close eye on the invasion of weeds in my thoughts, my private life, my choices, and my relationships. I know that a field that gets out of control will not go on that way forever, there is an endpoint to every abandoned field: "it will be destroyed."
God has made us all landowners. How is the harvest coming along?
Monday, November 07, 2005
"Land ... that produces a crop ..."
Continuing to read Hebrews 6:7-12
"Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God."
As one who has received so much from God, who "drinks in the rain," shouldn't something more come from this than just the quenching of my thirst? Some immediate questions arise:
1. What useful crop might I reasonably expect to produce?
First and foremost is character, a.k.a. "the fruit of the Holy Spirit," Christian humanism, the renewing of the image of God in us. This is what Jean Vanier calls the project of "Becoming Human." This is about giving attention to the quality of soil that all of our actions are eventually planted in and harvested from. Because right action is never enough. Our "righteous must excede that of the Scribes and Pharisees." Out of this good soil will arise all kinds of loving, joyful, peaceful...actions that will bless those around us.
2. Who are "those for whom it is farmed"?
This refers to both God and people. God is the immediate recipient of every crop we produce, whether good or evil. We bless God or curse God by all of our responses to his abundant rain upon the geography of our life. The people around us, in our circle of relationships, may glean in our fields all that is left there for them because we have been faithful in caring for the precious seed that God has scattered on our life and watered with his love.
3. What is "the blessing of God" that I should expect?
This is God's "favor." As in: "the Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering..." (Gen. 4:4), "Whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord" (Proverbs 8:25), "A good man obtains favor from the Lord" (Proverbs 12:2), and many others. It is God's smile, God's companionship, God's investment in my life.
I have certainly produced my share of thorns and thistles that didn't bless anyone but oh, that I would produce a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed.
I am land that drinks in the rain often falling on it...
I am land...that produces a useful crop...
"Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God."
As one who has received so much from God, who "drinks in the rain," shouldn't something more come from this than just the quenching of my thirst? Some immediate questions arise:
1. What useful crop might I reasonably expect to produce?
First and foremost is character, a.k.a. "the fruit of the Holy Spirit," Christian humanism, the renewing of the image of God in us. This is what Jean Vanier calls the project of "Becoming Human." This is about giving attention to the quality of soil that all of our actions are eventually planted in and harvested from. Because right action is never enough. Our "righteous must excede that of the Scribes and Pharisees." Out of this good soil will arise all kinds of loving, joyful, peaceful...actions that will bless those around us.
2. Who are "those for whom it is farmed"?
This refers to both God and people. God is the immediate recipient of every crop we produce, whether good or evil. We bless God or curse God by all of our responses to his abundant rain upon the geography of our life. The people around us, in our circle of relationships, may glean in our fields all that is left there for them because we have been faithful in caring for the precious seed that God has scattered on our life and watered with his love.
3. What is "the blessing of God" that I should expect?
This is God's "favor." As in: "the Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering..." (Gen. 4:4), "Whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord" (Proverbs 8:25), "A good man obtains favor from the Lord" (Proverbs 12:2), and many others. It is God's smile, God's companionship, God's investment in my life.
I have certainly produced my share of thorns and thistles that didn't bless anyone but oh, that I would produce a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed.
I am land that drinks in the rain often falling on it...
I am land...that produces a useful crop...
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