Redemption

The passages in the Lectionary this week which inspired this post are Isaiah 49:1-7, Psalm 40:1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:1-9, and John 1:29-42. I hope you will read along and share the ways these scriptures spoke to you.

The story of redemption is so thrilling to me. 

I have this picture in my head of God concocting a plan that went above and beyond anyone's wildest dreams, with a gleam in his eye and a conspiratorial whisper to the prophets and his own Son about his plans for redemption of the whole world. Isaiah 49:6 says, "It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth." 

After baptizing Jesus, John proclaimed that Jesus was "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." Even before Jesus' ministry began, John caught a glimpse of God's grand scheme, a plan that had been in the works since sin first became messily twisted into human nature. 

It was too light a thing to simply bring hope and salvation to his people, Israel. God decided to go even further than that, to bring hope and salvation to the world. 

The first chapter of 1 Corinthians declares that recipients of God's grace and forgiveness will stand guiltless before God. Of course, this is not because we are naturally without sin on our own, nor are we suddenly incapable of sin in light of our salvation. No, we are guiltless before God because Christ sustains us. Our guilt has been covered, is being covered, and will continue to be covered.

This is what inspires me to worship, and to speak of what God has done; I stand in awe of of the grace that has been given to me. I certainly do not deserve it on my own. I have another picture of God in my head, as a loving parent stooping down to gently wipe the dirt away from a small messy child who has stumbled and fallen yet again. My hands are dirty, yet they have been cleansed, and they continue to be cleansed. 

And in the process, my heart is continually transformed. God's law has been written on my heart-- a law that can be summed up with the directive to love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. And while this law does not do away with the propensity to sin that has been entangled in my very nature, the spirit of God himself whispers it to my heart daily, pointing me toward a different path and enabling me to choose it.

I don't always choose it. No, sometimes I choose poorly-- and boy, have I messed up over and over. And yet there is God again, holding out a loving hand, cleansing and forgiving me, pointing me always toward love, hope, and grace. He has a hold on my heart that the propensity for sin cannot undo, and for that I am grateful.

Themes

If you are interested in reading along, the passages from the lectionary that inspired this post are: Jeremiah 31:7-14, Psalm 147:12-20, Ephesians 1:3-14, and John 1:1-18. They can be read at http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=11. 

Scripture speaks of the same tendency over and over, a theme that seems inextricably woven into humanity: the tendency to veer quickly off course when left to one's own devices. Throughout the Old Testament, God revealed himself to the people of Israel-- his ways, his power, his provision, his righteousness, his love, his mercy, and his comfort. And yet continually, they turned away as soon as they lost focus on him.

Then God came in the flesh through Jesus, and still many of his own people did not recognize him. He embodied grace and truth; he gave them an example of what God is like. Yet they were so focused on their own expectations and traditions that when God himself walked among them, they rejected him.

But another theme is revealed throughout scripture: amidst the chaos and brokenness of the human condition, God loves so fiercely that he continually makes a way.

Heaven knows if I were God, I would eventually throw my hands up in disgust and give up on the whole mess. But that isn't who God is. I've heard so many negative statements about the Old Testament through the years. A punitive God, wars, bloodshed, and so on. But if you take a closer look, you see God's mercy and love revealed again and again. God doesn't give up on his people, no matter what. He promises to lead them back, to gather and keep them, to comfort them, to turn their mourning to joy, and to redeem them.

His love and provision are evident; his tenderness and mercy are always present. God doesn't give up; he makes a way because it is clear that they cannot do it without his help. 

And this is not just for the people of Israel. No, it is for anyone who will receive him. Despite our human tendency to miss God when he's right in front of us, he is able to shine through into our hearts so we can recognize him. And that, to me, is a beautiful mystery: it's not something we are able to do on our own; it is something that is done through his grace.

Ephesians speaks of receiving an inheritance, and the Holy Spirit is the down payment. This means that through God's grace, we have received even more than forgiveness; we have also received his spirit so we can live out his love and grace toward others. We won't do it perfectly, of course, because we are in fact still human. But we can do it; or rather, God can do it through us.

This leads me to seriously consider the ways in which God's spirit is evident in my life. Am I loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, gentle? No, not always. And yet God remains merciful to me, and continues guiding and discipling me in love!

I'm unspeakably grateful for a loving God who lavishes us with grace. In his perfect love, he has cast out fear and he has made a way for us, a path of forgiveness, freedom, and mercy.

Grace

I am changing a diaper when I realize yet again how amazing God’s grace is.

God, in all his holiness and all his goodness, knew we could never meet his standards on our own. And rather than punish and condemn us, he helped us. He bridged the gap between us and himself. We are like little children, and he is the compassionate father who sees that we simply cannot do it on our own and reaches down to help us. We are the toddlers who cannot use the toilet, and he is the parent who gently cleans us and patiently teaches us a better way, helping us move toward the goal.

Because of the grace he gives me, the grace I have done nothing to earn, I am compelled to pass that same grace on to others. Scripture tells the story of the man whose enormous debt was forgiven, yet he went out and demanded smaller debts from other people. This is not the person I want to be. I have been forgiven for so much. I have been given so much grace. How can I possibly have the audacity to be unforgiving and not extend grace to others?

And while God’s grace does not punish us for being unable to meet his standards, neither does it nullify those standards. God is not a punitive God, nor is he permissive. As a parent, this speaks to me. If this is how God has chosen to treat me, his child, I want to do everything in my power to treat my children the same way. In doing so, I hopefully will show them a glimpse of what God is like-- his love for them, the grace he gives them. As someone who has been forgiven and redeemed, I hope God is reflected in all my relationships, including those with my children.

And yes, I fail at this regularly. But even in my failures, God has grace and forgiveness for me. As I walk with my children, meeting them where they are, he walks with me. And unlike me, he never fails. And I am so grateful. His love is amazing, indescribable, beautiful.

Empathy

After my experience on Sunday morning, I am not sure what to do. I feel like I cannot carry on as usual and pretend it never happened. Even when I do carry on as usual, something in me feels... unsettled. I am reminded of what James has said about being "haunted" by the Holy Spirit; when you are haunted, you are unable to live a normal life.

It's not that I feel an urge to go out and try to fix everyone's problems. For once, I don't feel that way. I know that is not my place. But I am left asking myself, what do I do with this? I sat in that room and became immensely aware of people's pain and God's compassion. That is real, and I cannot ignore it.

Empathy is a gift, I think. And I think that is at the core of what I felt on Sunday. There have been many times in my life when I have felt so strongly what other people are feeling. Combine empathy with intuition, and yes, I absolutely believe it is a gift that God wants to use. Not that I am "special" somehow; I think we each have a gift he wants to use. But perhaps this is mine.

But what do you do with empathy and intuition? As with any gift, some people might use these things to manipulate others. But I don't think that is what empathy and intuition should be used for.

I want to use them to connect with other people. When you can "read" people well, and pick up on their emotions, you are better equipped to come alongside them and encourage them or help them through their problems. You can pray for them with a keen sense of what they are going through.

In fact, it hit me the other day that this is part of what Jesus did in his life here on earth. He became human. He can empathize with our struggles, fears, and joys. And Scripture says he intercedes for us with God.

As I look at the life of Jesus, I am so encouraged by what he did with his empathy and understanding of people. He had compassion. He loved them. He encouraged them. He spoke hard truths when necessary. He didn't let himself become completely overwhelmed by the pain of other people. He intercedes for us.

And so while I am still left wondering how, specifically, God wants to use me, I am not anxious and worried about it. I simply feel led to get to know the people in my life better, to spend time developing relationships with them, and encouraging them when I can, and praying for them. And I know I do not have to let myself get overwhelmed by other people's pain; I can be aware of it, let the feelings run through me, and give it to God.

But one thing is for sure; I cannot go on as though Sunday morning never happened.

Speaking Out

I ended my last post with a few questions:

When you are passionate about seeing change, do you think it is more effective to fight against the thing you don't like, or to fight for the thing you want to see? Do you see a distinction between the two, or do you feel they are the same thing?

Is there a time for specifically speaking out against something?

It has taken me longer to get back to this topic than I intended, but I needed to think about it for a while myself.

Before I get started, please note that these are simply the ideas I'm mulling over in my own head. My conclusions may not apply to everyone; for that matter, they may not always apply to me. As I think through these things more, I may change my perspective. But for now, this is where I am.

As I stated in my last post, when it comes to things that matter to me, I have become more convinced that my role is that of an encourager, not one who tears down the things I am against. I am not sure that constantly railing against various topics is really the way to shine a light on the changes I want to encourage.

Should that apply to everyone? I have absolutely no idea. But it is something that has irritated me about a few different Christian books lately because it seems like there is a lot of negative talk about whatever the author doesn't like. And this led to the question, "Is there a time for specifically speaking out against something?"

After thinking the question over for a while, I think my answer is yes. Yes, there are times that it is appropriate to speak out against things that are going on in our culture, in our world, and certainly in the church.

Where I think I part ways with the authors of some of these books is, I think that probably the most appropriate context for speaking out against something is relationship.

When Paul wrote letters to the various churches, they were not books written to the Church as a whole. Yes, they became part of the Bible we read today, but Paul certainly didn't write these letters with the goal to have them published, sell them, and to change the face of Christian culture as a whole. He was writing to specific churches, specific people he had relationships with, addressing specific issues within those churches.

I'm not saying Christian books are useless. I think they certainly serve a purpose, and I think God absolutely can and does use them to speak to people. I know God has spoken to me before through Christian books. But I do think they are to be taken with a grain of salt. In the end, the author does not know me or you or most of his or her audience. There is no relationship there. And I think a lot of times, real changes take place slowly, one person at a time, through relationship and community.

Of course, publishing a book is not the only way to speak out against something without the foundation of relationship; there are ways that people just like you and me can do it too. Facebook status updates, blog posts, and so on. So what do you think? If you feel the need to speak out against something, do you do it in a public way so anyone and everyone can see it, or do you do it more quietly in the context of relationship? Why?

His Grace Is Sufficient

Looking at me from the outside, you might think I pretty much have things all together. Sure, you may think that I mess up every now and then, in little ways, but it doesn’t seem like anything too major, especially when you compare it to my accomplishments and the way God is working in my life.

But I have a secret. There is something that keeps coming back to haunt me. I struggle with this thing over and over. Try as I might, I cannot seem to permanently disentangle myself from it. Sometimes it feels like there is a battle taking place for my very soul. When the temptation arises, I fight against it, but eventually I become so weary and I start giving in. I know what I should do, but I find myself doing the very thing I hate.

The struggle is exhausting and painful. Sometimes it feels like a huge thorn is lodged deeply into me, piercing my flesh and going all the way down to my spirit. And when I look at this recurring battle, in all its ugliness and pain, I can see just how broken I really am. In that moment, I cannot be prideful, I cannot fool myself into thinking I have it all together, I cannot pretend to everyone else that all is well. On my own, I am nothing. I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.

And so I cry out to God in frustration. I ask him to take this thing away from me. His answer stuns me. He says no. But why would he let me keep struggling through this when he could just make it all better? I plead with him to take it away. It is too much. I cannot bear this own my own. And then the answer comes more clearly than ever.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

He tells me that he is not going to take this thing away from me. We all have things that we struggle with, some publicly, some privately. Humanity as a whole is broken, far from the way God intended us to be in the beginning, and I am no exception. I am humbled by my own humanity, my own weaknesses and failures and temptations. I realize that I cannot do this on my own. I cannot be perfect. I have no business being prideful.

And, in fact, if I were able to do just fine on my own, I would never be able to experience the amazing grace of God. There would be no need for it. The truth is, I don’t deserve this grace at all. Yet there it is, offered to me by a God who is able to use even my biggest screw-ups to remind me of his power and love.

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! His grace is sufficient for me. His power is made perfect in my weakness.

Inspired by Romans 7:15-25 and 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

Connection

I have noticed that the times I feel most connected to God are also the times I feel most connected to other people.

Let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another... I have heard this scripture used many times to explain why it is so important for people to go to church. And while I agree that this verse can mean that, I'm not sure that's really the heart of what is being said.

Let's be honest. A person could easily attend church without ever really meeting with any other believers. Sure, they're all in the same room, singing the same songs, listening to the same sermon. But the real question is, are they meeting with each other? Are they connecting, are they conversing, are they sharing their lives, are they encouraging each other and being encouraged?

I think I feel more connected to God when I am more connected to people because God made us this way. We are made to need connection with others, to desire and pursue relationship and community. And that connection, the meeting together that happens within community, that is what should not be neglected.

Does that happen within the confines of the church walls on Sunday morning? Well, sure, it can, and I hope it does. But it happens elsewhere too, whenever we are connecting with each other and pursuing authentic relationships. There is no doubt that a relationship with God is important, but honest relationships with other believers are also vital. Let's be sure we do not neglect one while pursuing the other; they go hand in hand.

The Point of Grace

Lately I’ve felt distant from God, and, honestly, a little angry. Some of it is righteous anger at the awful things that have been (and are being) done, said, and taught in the name of God. But I haven’t just been angry at the people who do these things; I’ll admit I’ve been feeling a little angry at God too. He surely sees the hurtful things that people do and say in his name, and yet he seems to do nothing about it. If someone attached my name to teachings or actions that I knew were wrong, I’d want to make it clear that I most certainly am not okay with those things. So many Christians twist scripture and use God’s name to justify manipulation, abuse, and teachings that are not true to God’s character. How does God put up with it– and why does he? Doesn’t it break his heart? Doesn’t it anger him?

I don’t have an answer, really. I’m going to assume the answer involves love, mercy, and understanding of a magnitude I cannot even begin to grasp. I’m going to assume that God must have a plan. He sees things I cannot– situations, motivations, consequences, people’s hearts– and he must be working it all out in ways I don’t perceive. The only other option is a God who’s weak, passive, cruel, or non-existent. And my heart tells me that just isn’t true; my heart tells me God is there, and that he is powerful, loving, and good.

But as I think through all of this, I feel God nudging me to consider some hard questions and answer them truthfully…

Yes, there are people who do and say wrong things in the name of God. But what if I’m one of those people and I don’t realize it? After all, it’s not as though I have a flawless understanding of God; perhaps there are things about him that I firmly believe to be true, but they aren’t, and those beliefs influence my actions. If that were the case, would I want God to become angry, lose patience, and disassociate himself from me? Would I want him to punish me and make a public example of me? No. I would want him to patiently work in my heart, show me the areas where I was wrong, and point me in the direction he wants me to go.

So why do I want him to make a big scene when people continually attach his name to things that are not of him? Honestly– and this is a hard truth to realize– I guess it’s because I believe they’re wrong and I’m right, and that they deserve his anger and I don’t. It’s as though I believe that at some point, the transforming love and grace of God are not enough. In the face of lies, oppression, violence, and abuse, love and grace feel too subtle, too weak, not big enough, not powerful enough. (I know this isn’t the case, but I’ll admit that it feels that way sometimes.) I imagine that God does feel angry and heartbroken when his people attach his name to things that are not of him. Yet he chooses to respond in love.

All I can do is ask God to show me how he feels toward those who do wrong things in his name and to help me see them the way he does. Left to my own devices, I become angry and harbor these feelings I didn’t even realize I had, feelings that they don’t deserve his love, mercy, and grace.

They don’t deserve it. But I don’t deserve it either. That’s the point of grace.

Children and Sin

Usually I'd back away quickly if a book I was reading started talking about children and sin. Most of the "beat it out of them" parenting methods seem to originate with the idea that children misbehave because they're sinful, and I honestly believe that young children misbehave because of immaturity and where they are developmentally. They still have so much to learn, they're curious, and they have very little impulse control and very short attention spans. Young children need patient guidance and understanding of where they are developmentally, not harsh punishment based on the notion that they are sinful little creatures who need to have the sinful impulses driven out of them.

But tonight, as I was reading Grace (Eventually) by Anne Lamott, I came across the following sentence in a chapter about her teenage son: "It turns out that all kids have this one tiny inbred glitch: they have their own sin, their own stains, their own will... all of them are wrecked, just like the rest of us." Out of context, or if you aren't familiar with Anne Lamott's writing style, that still may sound a little out there to you. But please bear with me for just a moment, because it got me thinking about something that I think may be really important.

I still think that young children disobey or mess up because of developmental abilities and immaturity. But it's also obvious that sometime between those early years and adulthood, people do develop certain areas where they struggle. I'm not sure when that starts happening, but it does.

Our job as parents is not to try to drive sin out of our children somehow (an impossible task anyway because no matter how old people get, they will never be completely rid of sin), but instead our job is to teach our children what to do when they struggle with it. We can teach them how to recognize areas of weakness in their own lives, and how to make amends when they mess up, and how to look to God for help, and how to do their best and still accept God's grace and forgiveness when they miss the mark. And we can't teach all of this just by telling them; we teach them by living it in front of them daily. They see us struggle with our own sins, and they see us make amends and go to God and accept grace and forgiveness. My oldest child is almost eight, so obviously immaturity is still a factor here, but I do see certain patterns and tendencies in him that I think could be the building blocks of particular struggles he will have in his life. Instead of punishing him for them, I need to help him learn how to deal with those things and also what to do when he does mess up.

I don't know about you, but it makes a huge difference to me to realize that my children are in the same boat as me. They need the same love, grace, and forgiveness along the way that I do. It makes me think of the story in Matthew 18 where a servant owed the king a debt that he could never have repaid, and the king had mercy on him and forgave him the debt-- but then the servant went out and found someone who owed him some money and refused to show him any mercy. The grace and forgiveness and patience that God gives us, we should also give to others, including our children.

I think about all I've gone through, and will go through, in my life-- the habits and temptations and weaknesses and failures, and the lessons I've learned along the way-- and it breaks my heart to realize that my children will have to go through these things too in the context of their own weaknesses and struggles. It's an inevitable part of the human condition; no matter how much I live these things in front of my children, and no matter how much I teach them, I simply cannot spare them from this human journey. They will struggle, they will fail, they will learn about grace and forgiveness in their own relationships with God. I can equip them for their journeys in certain ways, but their unique journeys are theirs to take. I can't do it for them. All I can do is be there to guide them, prepare them, and love them.

Not What My Hands Have Done

In the third chapter of Romans, Paul basically says God is righteous and we're not. Sounds pretty simple, right? But how often do we try to rely on our own righteousness?

The law that was given to the Jews made them very aware when they were missing the mark, and because God has also written his law on our hearts, we too are aware of how incapable we are of righteousness. We all mess up. We can't boast about the things we do and say, because all too often our words and actions reveal just how unrighteous we really are on our own; as Isaiah says, "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags."

It is through faith alone that we enter a relationship with God, and it is through that relationship that God illuminates his law in our hearts. This, in turn, affects our words and actions.

We can't do anything to make ourselves righteous. We can't follow God's law perfectly (whether Torah or what he's written on our hearts). We can't clean ourselves up enough on the outside to transform ourselves on the inside.

But we try. Oh, we try. Sometimes we strive and perform only to fail and berate ourselves for it; at other times we strive and perform and end up looking pretty good on the outside, but on the inside we know something is still not right. Either way, our focus is on our own performance, our own righteousness, and not God. In a culture that is highly individualistic and performance-driven, it is not surprising that so many people struggle with this. It's ingrained in us to focus on ourselves and our own performance rather than on God and his transforming love and grace.

I want to wrap this up with some of the lyrics to a really amazing song by Aaron Keyes. This song brings me to tears whenever I hear it. What a beautiful message.

Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul,
Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God.
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my awful load.

These guilty hands are raised,
Filthy rags are all I bring,
And I have come to hide beneath your wings.
These holy hands are raised,
Washed in the fountain of your grace,
And now I wear your righteousness.

Repentance

"Do you know what it is to feel the light of love inside you, and all the darkness falls away?" -Dave Matthews Band

In Romans 2, Paul writes that although God gave the law (Torah) to the Jews, he has also written his law on the hearts of those who are not Jews. I love that God has put his law in our hearts. So many people think about the Old Testament law in a negative way-- too strict, impossible to follow perfectly, and not necessary to Christians anyway because of Jesus. I don't entirely agree with that, though. I can think of a few things Jesus said about the law that tell me it is still important-- for example, in Matthew 5 Jesus says that he didn't come to abolish it, but to fulfill it (in other words, live it out fully). At other times Jesus says that things like love for God and your neighbor and treating others the way you would want them to treat you summarize the law and the prophets. So I don't agree that the law is irrelevant post-Jesus. I think it reveals God's heart and desire for his people. There is no longer a need for atonement whenever we do not live it perfectly, though-- Jesus paid this penalty for us, and this gives us the freedom to have a relationship with God and to follow him the best we can while accepting his grace and forgiveness along the way. Paul also points out that it is what is in our hearts that sets us apart for God, not something outward like circumcision. What is important is not what can be physically observed on the outside; God is looking at us inwardly, in our hearts.

Truth be told, I seriously struggle with where my heart is sometimes. I know that I end up straying into places that I should not be, places that are off limits and are not in line with how God desires for me to live. At the beginning of Romans 2, Paul writes, "Do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?" And that, I think, gets to the root of my struggle. I know that God is forgiving and patient and has given me grace, so I sometimes make the mistake of not taking these issues very seriously when they come up, when in fact they are serious.



See, what happens is I get to a place where I start thinking I'm doing pretty well and I can handle things from here. But then when I start trying to manage things on my own, I slowly drift away from God. God is still there, willing to shine his light into every corner of my heart, but as I drift away, the darkness becomes more and more pronounced, and the light fades into the distance. It is like seeing a very bright light from far away, and it looks like a tiny speck. But then when I realize just how far I've drifted and begin moving closer again, the light becomes bigger and brighter, and as it shines on all these things I've been hiding, I realize they have to go. Bad habits, thought patterns, attitudes, desires-- they are glaringly obvious. It's hard to let go of the things that have become deeply ingrained, but in order to stay in the light, I must. It's like turning on a bright light in a pitch black room; it hurts as I adjust.

And when I get to that point, I realize that I cannot continue to "presume on the riches of his kindness" and ignore these issues in my heart. His law is written there and he is illuminating it for me. His grace means that the penalty has been paid; it does not mean he is permissively looking the other way. It is meant to bring me to repentance. And so as God's love and kindness bring me to repentance, and I move closer to the light, his light fills me and the darkness fades.

Romans

A couple years ago, I read through the book of Luke and wrote about each chapter on my old blog. It took me a while to get through it, but it was something I really enjoyed doing. I think it's time to do something similar, this time with Romans.

I'll go ahead and tell you I happen to love the book of Romans. Each time I read it, it speaks to me in such a profound way. There's so much in there, so I won't be writing about every single point and every single verse; instead, I will do what I did with Luke and write about one or two things that stand out to me as I read through each chapter.

I'll also go ahead and tell you that I'm no theologian. These posts are just going to be about the thoughts, ideas, and questions that come to mind as I read. I hope you'll bear with me through it all and join me as I blog my way through Romans.