June 27, 2015.

Four years and one week ago, my brother-in-law and I were standing around talking about my going to Israel for six weeks-- that he and my sister would come over to have breakfast the day I left, cutting short his planned camping trip the night before. A week later, I experienced grief for the first time. Before Jake's death, I hadn’t been close to anyone who'd passed away, only knowing that heartache vicariously through others. But he was my brother. I miss his friendship every day.

The months preceding his death, God was teaching me the phrase, “Lord willing.” Like, “Lord willing, we'll have lunch Thursday,” or “If the Lord wills it, I’ll text you when I get home.” And as I grew into the habit of prefacing my future plans with His sovereignty, He taught me that sometimes He isn’t willing. Sometimes, our plans differ from His and we’re faced with this seemingly unbeatable thing and we have no idea what to do, but we have to keep our eyes on Him (2 Chronicles 20:12).

Two weeks before he died, my sister and I were discussing a song on the radio about God’s mercy in teaching and blessing us through painful circumstances. We both admitted to feeling like we’d never really suffered, like our faith hadn’t been truly tested, shaken (Hebrews 12:28). That night I prayed that He would bring tests along that would cause my truest nature to be made known. Apparently of that the Lord was willing.

I hope to show you the preparation that God has given me for "various trials" (1 Peter 1:6) so often in the past, a cycle He repeated in this circumstance. Not until recently did I see this cycle so clearly: I pray for something, He prepares me for His answer, He provides-- both the trial and the ability to endure. 

This time as preparation, we were given two things. The first was extra time with my brother-in-law. I am inexpressibly thankful for this. He was in medical school and therefore very busy. I typically only saw him once a week for a half hour before church in which we’d discuss a thousand things in rapid succession. But, the month leading up to his death was his school break. My sister got to travel a bit with him. The Lord worked it out for he and I to ride to a church 45 minutes away together, despite all my other attempted plans. I’ll forever cherish those times and those final conversations we got to have. Truly the Lord gives good gifts to His children (Matthew 7:11).

Second, He prepared us with the study of 1 Peter 1. The Bible study he and I were going to that was 45 minutes away was one we, my sister included, attended regularly. That month, the teaching was about 1 Peter, the “if necessary,” of being “grieved by various trials.” A few weeks after his death, my parents both sent me that same chapter, having separately been led to it when searching for comfort, not knowing the Lord had been using it already to comfort me and my sister. He united us in awe of Him, in trust and hope. He intertwined His answers, knitting our hearts together (Colossians 2:2) that we might lean on one another, "bearing each other's burdens" (Galatians 6:2). 

These were both combined with the myriad of past lessons in patience and trust, hope in disappointment, and the effects of speech on attitude and outlook. Most importantly, the lessons about His past actions and the proof of His nature by years of daily, personal study of His Word.

However, I feel this grief manifesting itself even today in many of my decisions. Subconsciously, I’m expecting all my plans to fall through and everything to change, until the very moment that it comes to fruition. Or I’ll turn my back on potential relationships because of a fear of giving myself to someone and losing them. Or I’m unable to plan anything that takes place in more than a few months, because I am hesitant to think I have that long. Or...etc.

Still, I often find that I am jealous for those times closely succeeding his death. Despite the ache and the sorrow, He kept me constant, He held me steady, and He graciously reminded me of Himself, of His power and His love and His kindness and His wisdom. Who He is shone so brightly to me in that time. I felt everything deeply, yet carried it lightly, constantly offering it again to God.

My faith was shaken but the Rock was steady. He anchored me with hope and joy.

I know that life can be overwhelming and that we face different things and feel different things in response to them. I do not pretend to be an expert by any means. But I know what the Lord has done for me (Psalm 66:8-16) and how He has taught me to react; I hope that you might be strengthened and encouraged to press on.

I had to remind myself over and over again-- through doubt or tears or numbness or anger or self-pity-- that my lot is secure; my portion steadfast (Psalm 16:5, etc.). My inheritance is “undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for” me, as I, “by God’s power,” am “being guarded through faith” (1 Peter 1). My reward is immovable, for He has won it; indeed He has become it. He is the victory I need.

[Side note: Christianity isn't an undercover ploy of greed and pride that allows people to "believe" only enough to get them to Heaven when they die. Many church-goers function this way. Christianity is the teaching that, through His own suffering, Jesus has joined us in our suffering, giving it a hope and a purpose-- a God Who can both sympathize with human weakness and walk in divine power over sin and death. Eternal life is the continuation and deepening of fellowship with God, not some promise for gratification of the fleshly desires for admiration and selfish gain we pretended not to have while we served "others" on earth. He renews us in life by the power of the Spirit; He remakes us completely in death by the unveiled sight of His Son (2 Corinthians 3:18, 1 John 3:2).] 

There is always something about which to be grateful. He is always working. Over all things He is sovereign. "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28). This isn't just a saying for a greeting card, this is a real, tested truth. Stop fearing your pain or your uncertainty; fear God. No suffering will meet you that has not been approved and reworked by a God of infinite understanding and kindness to make you better, to make you more like Jesus, "a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering" (Isaiah 53).

Remind yourself of this truth, even if it’s a moment by moment forgetting and recitation. Train yourself to perceive all things through the filter of the Word of God, the Truth of Jesus, and the Conviction of the Holy Spirit. You have to be willing and disciplined in each memory or new situation to speak it again.

To not get discouraged when you feel you’ve landed in the same place as you were before.

To not be a "hindrance" to yourself by "not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man" (Matthew 16:23).

To not doubt that God has your best interest in mind.

To not allow yourself to feel entitled to bitterness or despair.

There is always hope, there is always forgiveness, you just have to look up (John 3:14). 

So if you find yourself at this moment in the grasp of great pain, do not be dismayed; it is likely the Lord has been working often to prepare you. Look back, take inventory of the training in various aspects of Godliness He has provided you with, and plunge ahead with renewed courage and thanksgiving. He has not left you alone, He will not leave you vulnerable. Fix your eyes, for He is leading you in this battle as the Head of the charge. The Death Conqueror is your King, your Defender, your Guide. What have you to fear but forgetting to look to that King and trust His orders? 

Find reinforced cover by seeking out Christian brothers and sisters to fight alongside you, listening to the comfort of those before you, looking for those in need of comfort behind you (2 Corinthians 1:3-7). Kneel behind that common shield of faith and skillfully wield it as protection from the efforts of the enemy. Trust the sword of the Word of Truth to find its targets. Cling to both with the strength found in the arms of the Creator God; "entrust your soul to" Him for He is faithful, and "do not grow weary of doing good" (Galatians 6:9). 

Keep hope in the Risen Lamb, Who from His doomed journey of certain death, returned to His throne in the light of eternal power, inexhaustible purity, and conquering grace.

What about you?

Have you lost someone close to you? What do remember most from that time of grief? What helpsyou to cope?

"Judge not, lest ye be judged."

I admit, at times I struggle to grasp a loving God allowing seemingly unloving things. But I know that cannot make me think: how cruel, how unfair, how could He? For this same concept was answered in Romans 9 thousands of years ago. "Who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its Molder, 'Why have You made me like this?'" And I know that isn't much comfort to most because it doesn't offer any explanation except that God is in control and He does what is best, even if we don't understand how. But God doesn't need us to make excuses for Him. 

Telling the world the equivalents of "He didn't mean it!" and "He didn't do it!" does not bring them closer to God. It attempts to remove God's sovereignty in order to prove His love. Why can both not exist, the Judge and the Sacrifice? True, they seem contradictory, but would you remove the mystery of the complex nature of God in order to convince people to become Christians?

And if you do, have you really convinced them to be Christians at all? Would it not rather be a continuation of man-centered thoughts, bowing them at the feet of an idol we've constructed as we're blown about by every wave and wind of teaching (Ephesians 4:14).

"But who would ever turn to a God that allows tragedy when He has the power to stop it?" But the Holy Spirit is promised. It is He Who renews our minds, so that we see clearly that pain is not a wrongdoing of God against poor, pitied man. Rather, as our Creator, He has the responsibility to reshape us, His malfunctioning creation, into working condition, and that is not without pain.

It is a mercy that He has allowed us to continue after our first glitch, our first sin, so we might turn to Him for repair. But instead of awe at the grace of it, we sit in our indignation, pouting and exclaiming that we were "born this way" and everyone should "love our flaws" (Read: expecting people to think you're wonderful when you act selfish and prideful. No. Hold yourself to the same standards you hold others to.).

The scary thing is, many apply this same principle to God. "If [He] doesn't accept me at my worst, then [He] doesn't deserve me at my best." And we ever-so-culturally-relevant Christians repackage that into church-acceptable vernacular, but we're spewing the same garbage. We say things like: Jesus ate with sinners and God is love and "judge not lest ye be judged." All true. But we leave out the context, the consequences of that love.

Most who use this as their message just want their audience to think, "Wow, how open-minded this lone diamond of a Christian is." We fight for "God's" reputation in an effort to bolster ours, and in so doing, we damage His and cover up truth.

By claiming God didn't mean all that "wrath stuff" in the Old Testament, or saying He doesn't have the final say over everything that happens, we side with unbelievers against the actions and goodness of God. We believe that those things are unfair, unjust.

We discredit Him, trying to release Him from the blame we place on His actions. "Sure God commanded Israel to kill people, but... it's different now. Look at Jesus instead!" But we can't properly look at Jesus until we linger in the actions of God in the Old Testament.

Why did He seem to change? What happened between Malachi and Matthew? Did God take a cosmic nap and get less grumpy?

We are told in the Bible that God doesn't change. His nature is constant; His actions are consistent with that nature. And we certainly didn't change. Mankind didn't suddenly become more lovable.

What changed is the focus of God's wrath.

When Jesus came to earth, He lived a perfect life. He was born into human nature yet held fast to holiness and purity, to His Father. And in the end, He became the object of God's wrath.

Did God not mean to give His perfect Son over to torture, rejection, abandonment, crucifixion, and then, eventually (finally) death? Did God have control over this terrible, wonderful thing?

We wouldn't dare say differently. There are too many verses where Jesus Himself declares it to be true.

Maybe we have an easier time believing it because it benefits us. 

God is love, Jesus did eat with sinners, and He even did say "judge not lest ye be judged." But we cannot ignore what followed.

First, Jesus ate with "sinners" not because they were sinners, but because they recognized their sin, the consequences of that sin, and the spectacular relief of Jesus saying, "Your sins are forgiven." He met with sinners, but He didn't let them leave as sinners. With a, "Go and sin no more," He commanded them to change their entire manner of life, means of income, living situations. He called them to do radically difficult, painful, costly things in His Name, motivating and empowering them with His mercy and kindness and later gifting them with the Holy Spirit as Guide.

Let's not forget Jesus ate with Pharisees, too, and He spent most of that time pronouncing really harsh judgments against them for their pride and greed and false worship.

In summation: Jesus didn't eat with sinners because He approved of their sin but because they recognized Christ as the remedy for it. 

Second, there's more to a verse than meets the public's eye. After Jesus tells them, "Judge not," He tells a parable about first removing the log that is in your eye. People like this quote, too, and leave off the last bit of that sentence, in which you then do remove the "speck that is in your brother's eye." Why is this left out? Because it's "offensive". But... how? Honestly? How is someone removing sawdust from your eye harmful, rude? Is it not helpful? And what sweet relief when it is gone!

Many Christians have been led to believe that you show love by withholding judgement. Here Jesus tells us to hold up our judgements to ourselves first, then to others. And it's not that I'm not allowed to hold someone accountable for lying because I have also lied in my lifetime. I can hold them accountable while allowing them to hold me accountable. 

Withholding judgement doesn't actually do any good, it just means you both walk around with crap in your eyes, and no one is willing to do anything about it because it will hurt for a few seconds. Don't confuse that temporary pain with unkindness or a lack of love.

1 Corinthians 5 does put a condition on this judgement. Paul says, "What have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. 'Purge the evil person from among you.'" (P.S. When he says "purge," he is not calling for their murder, but their removal from the local church with hope for their return. As in, do not call them Christians while they intentionally reject the teachings of Christ, just as most practitioners of Islam reject "Radical" Islam as true Islam.)

So, it is our job, as Christians, to hold other Christians accountable. It is to be with the purpose of repentance and reconciliation, in the event of which we are then to "affirm our love for [them] so that [they] will not be overwhelmed with excessive sorrow" (2 Corinthians 2:7).

It is also our job to speak truth to those who are outside the church. To "judge" motivated by compassion, fear for the state of their souls because what God says is true. His Kingdom is real. It is eternal. His judgement is right, good, and just.

Every speech we read in Acts by one of the disciples leads in with the reality of the human condition. It isn't until the audience-- "cut to the heart"-- asks "What can we do?" (Acts 2) that they tell them of the forgiveness and freedom found by repenting and following Christ.

Maybe these Judge-Not Christians think they are saying, "You're wrong, but I'm not going to turn my back on you. I am going to tell you of the hope that is found in Christ."

I pray that's what they are saying.

But I have seen too many church leaders speak only of love, to the point of becoming not only tolerant of sin in the church, but, in the air of culture, applauding it. Like "Wow, we're so real," and then they're sitting around admiring everyone's willingness to share their sin. Then, if not careful, making light of their sin. Then doing nothing to change it, finding excuse and comfort in solidarity. This is why Galatians 6:1 is written.

Many look around at their churches and think, "Wow, so many fake Christians," not realizing they are the ones who make it that way-- disciples not of Jesus but of an easier imitation of the call of Christ, one that requires little more than Sunday attendance and a few hand-raising renditions of shallow songs. We make them feel better about themselves by telling them how loved they are, how blessed they are, how God answers prayer.

But what of the topics that make us squirm a little and avert our eyes so no one catches us looking guilty? Or talking about the commands of God, the sacrifices of worldly pleasure and attitude and worries, that He asks of us?

It is dangerous when we don't care enough about our congregation to notice, let alone to say, "Hey, I know you're struggling. I want to see you do the right thing. I want to help you, because I know it's difficult." If we don't preach the life of a true follower of Christ, why subject themselves to a charade of piety every Sunday?

This is why so many people stop going to church, why so many think Christianity is a hypocritical farce.  Not because we don't "love" enough, but because we aren't loving correctly. When we water the Gospel down, we offer the same "love" found in the world, but with extra stipulations and an air of self-righteousness. It's not sustainable. And it isn't truth. God's love is unconditional, and it is also life-changing. It demands everything from us, and it is worth it all.

Love people with the love of God, not with the love of the world. Only one will last. 

It comes down to this:

If someone is outside the church and makes no claim to follow Christ, it is your responsibility to speak truth in love with gentleness and respect and to inform him of the Gospel of the finished work of Christ. But we can't get angry at someone or mock them or cut someone off for not upholding the commands of a God they either don't believe in or couldn't care less about. Do we really think that we would choose to do any differently? If so, we are the ones who need a reminder of the Gospel, that we were once "dead in our trespasses and sins" (Ephesians 2:1) until Jesus literally had to die and come back to life in order for us to have the ability to follow Christ. We do not have the power to obey on our own, only through the Holy Spirit. Unbelievers do not have the power nor the motivation to obey a God they do not love.

However, if someone is sitting in the pew next to you, week after week, claiming to be a Christian, it is your responsibility to speak truth in love with gentleness and respect, to hold them accountable to the Word of God, to point them to the Gospel of the finished work of Christ, to "forgive and comfort them, so that they will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow." Where opinion differs or understanding wavers, defer to the Bible, the truth that has been passed down for thousands of years without shifting its message for shifty human perception. It is your duty-- as a fellow Christian, to the Church, and to God Himself-- to hold that believer accountable to the knowledge and commands of God.

"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship"? Part Two.

In Part One, I talked about the confusion between people who grew up in church and those who did not when hearing "Christian-ese," those catchy phrases churches like to use. Specifically, "Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship."

Before we can use this phrase with any efficacy, I think it's important to define the term "religion."

Like I said, when churches put this on their signs or their twitter bios or their what-have-you's, it probably doesn't convey the message they want it to (at least not to people that aren't Christians, which I generally assume to be their intended audience). Christians typically use this phrase as a paraphrase of "I desire mercy and not sacrifice." Like, "I love God, I don't just do a bunch of traditions in a designated building once a week." Which is good; please don't. 

But the truth is-- although Christ is the basis and the greater meaning behind all the former laws and prophecies-- Christianity is a set of teachings and it does have rituals and actions specific to it. Christianity isn't simply knowing Christ, it is the way in which we are told to follow Him in response to getting to know Him better. And that is the definition of "religion."

And that's why I think it's incorrect to say that Christianity is only relationship and no religion.

Well, maybe not incorrect, but incomplete.

It isn't legalistic to love the Law of the Lord. It isn't wrong for us to think about how to put the Word into action in our lives, even if it's a disciplined reaction and you aren't that excited about it at the time. That is where I get a little afraid of this phrase's implications.

As a response to the accusations of legalism from the world, who say we don't love them because, we tell them they will have to change after we tell them they can come as they are. We can't love God and keep on doing what He hates with reckless abandon.

We shouldn't try to sound like we are these free-loving, only-grace-no-judgement people who "just love Jesus," because that's misleading to people who currently define love as "someone who benefits me and thinks I'm awesome and doesn't try to change me." Do you see the difference? Do you see the problem? 

God made up the laws and rituals of obedience and repentance through sacrifice (religion). He doesn't hate them. I mean, heck, He was a sacrifice. These laws were given as a map to living a life that is pleasing to Him. But we're really timid to say that, to say that there are rules to follow. When Jesus says, "Go and sin no more," we see that there is more to following Christ than just thinking He is really great and believing He has the power to make us feel better.

I've been reading through the Gospels these past few weeks and what keeps catching my mind is the difference between being amazed by Jesus and being changed by Him. Since my earliest readings of the Bible, I've been confused about why Jesus told people not to tell everyone about the miracle He'd just done. My interpretations have ranged from an appearance of humility to "but ugh why??" scribbled in the margins.

My most recent thought is that He was trying to prevent people from coming to see Him for a show rather than for teaching. I say this because when we see those that have been healed still tell people (understandably), literally the entire town and a few surrounding ones are soon crowded around Jesus waiting to be healed or to see someone else healed.

They wanted a spectacle. They weren't looking to understand of Who He was/is. They'd follow Him around as long as He was looking powerful and beneficial, but miracles are not all He came to do. And I think that is why He told people not to tell anyone-- so that His teaching might be the central focus with miracles a whispered side note in confirmation of His authority.

And I think that is the danger of saying that Christianity is relationship only. We're like "Hey, just let me love Jesus, I don't need all that other stuff." But it super doesn't work that way.

Because, Christianity isn't only a religion or only a relationship. It is both. Christianity is a religion because it is the means by which we follow a personal God, and it's a relationship because He is an autonomous Being with His Own thoughts and feelings resulting in the specified way He desires to be followed (as He details throughout the Bible).

He is the Relationship (Jesus the connection) and the relationship is the religion, because it is done according to His commands. That's how we relate to Him, how we worship Him. Relationship and religion can't be separated when it comes to Christianity. The Person and the ways in which the Person wants to be related to are One.

We don't decide the terms of His covenant, He does. We don't get to decide what we do or don't want to believe about Jesus's teachings. It's all or nothing. 

Christianity is a religion, it just isn't an impersonal one.

"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship"? Part One.

"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship."

A lot of people fault the church for having their own vernacular that doesn't cater to those who are outside it. A lot of church members hear that complaint but don't know how to remedy it. In fact, we often try to redefine the world's conception of our terms without really asking what their original conception is.

I personally think this is one of those cases.

We want people to know that God is a personal God and that there is more to following Him than rules, so we try to pick on the word "religion" right along with them. But I feel like we end up looking like those people that try to jump in on other people's inside jokes, making everyone feel really uncomfortable.

Of course, not everyone has the same connotations. It depends a lot on who they've come in contact with and the people they admire or dislike.

But most people don't define religion the same way the church does. When people who haven't grown up in church say they hate religion, it typically isn't them saying they hate ritualistic actions that aren't backed up by a true spirit of reverence and love for God.

That's the "Christian-ese" definition.

And we should hate heartless rituals because God hates them, too (Isaiah 1:12-15, etc). We should strive to have true motivation in everything that we do, and that comes through personal growth and pursuit of understanding through the Word and prayer. And that is a relationship. 

But I think there's something we all need to accept:

Christianity is also a religion.

You can't have Jesus without His decrees. We can't separate the teachings of the Person from the Person teaching. And that's what we're doing. Or at least what it sounds like we're doing.

Hey, maybe that gives us an opportunity to get into a discussion with the unbeliever who is really confused about the Christian that says they hate religion. That's good, I hope that happens. But it's hard to see the benefit of the saying being plastered on billboards or twitter feeds with no further discussion.

Connotation is important. And their connotation is probably different than ours and maybe it's counterproductive sometimes.

(It's so funny, though, the satisfaction churchgoers seem to get out of confusing the outside world with semantics. Like the "Wait, what?" of an unbeliever echoes internally as a giddy little victory for us. "Look at us, stunning the world with what really goes on inside these doors. Silly misconceptions. I bet you wanna be a Christian now, right?")

It is good for the Church to define our terms when interacting with the world. What do we really mean when we say   insert churchy jargon here  ? I think it's equally important for us to understand what they really mean when they give their opinions on   insert anything here  . We can get so offended sometimes that we don't even realize the disagreement is mainly between what we hear them saying and what they actually mean to say, and vice versa. 

Not that our worldviews don't fundamentally disagree; I'm really just saying we can debate all day about how, for example, faith is either stupid or life-giving, and get nowhere because their definition of faith is "believing without evidence" and ours is "trust based on fulfilled prophecy, recorded eyewitness testimony, historical evidence of dependability, persistence of followers, and personal experience." So, from the outset, we're doomed to disagree.

Define your terms.

So, let's define this particular term: religion... in Part Two.

Remembering Christ After Choosing Sin

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32).

One verse that strikes me every time I think of it is Luke 22:61. Jesus stands before His accusers when Peter, lost in the crowd, denies being His close friend and follower. Immediately, Jesus "turned and looked at Peter." Heartbreak.

We're given no description of the expression on Jesus's face, but that look reminds Paul of what Jesus told him only a few verses earlier. It reminds him of his subsequent promise to never leave Jesus, even in the face of opposition or unpopularity. It reminds him of his inability to keep that promise for even one day.

And he runs out, weeping bitterly.

It is in our nature to run from the wrong that we do, from the ones we have wronged, and especially from those that have the authority to give us the consequences. Peter's consequence was a look from Christ reminding him of their conversation.

We make similar claims. We feel in the moment that we will always hold fast to the One we call Lord. Then the moment changes and what was once only a dark improbability has become the inescapable reality. And it's so much more difficult than we thought it'd be. 

We conjecture that no pain will be too great to cause us to doubt His care, that no disappointment will be too complete to cause us to question His wisdom, or that no hardship will last long enough to wear us down to a point of losing hope. But then it's here and a hundred of your emotions are at the surface and yet nonexistent at the same time. All your previous thoughts seem so foolish and so prideful and so useless, and like maybe this is it, maybe this is what will finally make you walk away or make Him give up on you. Lost in yourself with a whole crowd of people huddled around you, watching your reactions and trying to measure you up against some arbitrary standard.

You give in to despair or boredom or anger. You give up on the fight for holiness. 

And then He looks at you and you remember everything He's ever said to you, everything He's promised you. And there's pity and there's justice and there's hope and there's peace and there's comfort in the light of His face.

In brokenness, you are strengthened. In repentance, you are renewed. Because of He Who looked at you, Who reminded you that you are not on your own, that He has already prayed for you, that He is still praying for you.

He is with you. He is in you. He prepares the way before you and stands guard behind you. He gives life to the weary and the downcast. 

And His is not an arbitrary standard. When He looks at you in your disobedience, He not only knows your sinfulness completely and still holds on to you; He also knows your choices, having faced them Himself, "tempted in every way," yet every time choosing to do what was pure and righteous and good (Hebrews 4:15).

When He looked at Peter, it was not yet from a position of the conquering warrior but the submissive sacrifice, with immense suffering still looming imminently before Him. He knew Peter's denial. He knew Peter's betrayal. And still He put Himself into the violent hands of those who hated Him. 

Peter didn't just need an Example; He needed a substitute. We all do. When we reject God in order to please ourselves, we need one Who rejected Himself in order to please God. It is only in His power, by His prayers, that we can turn around and do differently and see differently. Jesus didn't put His hope in Peter, that he would decide to turn again after thrice choosing disobedience. Jesus put His hope in God, that He would "cause [Peter] to be born again into a living hope" (1 Peter 1:3). Peter's return was assured by the God from and through Whom salvation comes, for "no purpose of [His] can be thwarted" (Job 42:2). 

Peter saw himself finally as the Lord had seen him all along and he "wept bitterly" because of it. But he didn't give himself over to that feeling forever. Jesus had prayed for him, that his "faith would not fail" and that he would "turn again" to "strengthen the brothers."

It was this prayer on his behalf and the knowledge that Jesus was able to look at him and still love him-- with full knowledge of his past and future failings-- that strengthened his faith and encouraged him to stand and continue.

This truth and those prayers stand firm throughout the ages to meet us here today. Because Jesus did conquer death, "He is able also to save forever those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them" (Hebrews 7:25).

There is no power which can take us from His might, no disobedience which can cause Him to reconsider His promise of salvation to us, because "'when we are faithless, He remains faithful' for He cannot deny Himself" (2 Timothy 2:13).

He is just, and He is merciful, and through Christ He is able to be both at once, saving forever those who still mess up despite a great salvation. He has redeemed us. He is making us new.

He will keep us until the day we are taken to His side, where finally "we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is" (1 John 3:2).

When a Christian Falls Away

"...and some of the wise shall stumble, so that they may be refined, purified, and made white..." (Daniel 11:35)

It hurts to hear someone who once followed Christ has traded Him for the pleasures of the world. There are those who go astray who were never true in their repentance at the first, just as John says in 1 John 2:19. But I believe that there are true believers, too, who walk away, spend a good deal of their time saying "yes" to sin (Titus 2:12), and return, never having lost their status as "son" in Christ, but grieving the Holy Spirit all the same.

In fact, as the Prodigal Son gave everything to his momentary pleasure until he had nothing left, it is often this wallowing in sin that causes many to return to God with even greater humility and awe and joy, knowing that when they went astray, He was steady and they were "kept" (Jude 1:1).

I don't believe God revokes justification. I don't believe we keep ourselves saved by our obedience. But where does 1 John fit into this? There is a whole section expounding the fact that "no one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God's Seed abides in him, and he cannot keep on sinning because he has been born of God."

I think the difference is understood in this: time.

There are those who never truly knew Christ, but spoke as though they did-- and maybe even believed it themselves. In the middle of all the church activities, just like those crowds who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem shouting one day that He was their King and the next that He should die.

After these have turned to pursue the world, few return, nor do they find any reason to. All they thought they knew of God was only second-hand and disappointing. What they had in church was never any more real (and a lot less visceral) to them than the temporary highs the world has given them since they've abandoned Him and His teaching.

However, for those who do know Christ, I feel like in the back of their minds they still fight with themselves, even just a little, knowing that what they are doing won't give them the lasting fulfillment they want. They get more and more determined to misattribute the depression and fear and shame they feel and seek to override it by committing more shameful acts until one day they find they can't continue. And so they repent because, despite all the anxiety toward returning to Christ and His church, they recognize it as the only complete hope and light to be found in the world.

And that is the difference: they do come back.

They come back to the peace and joy of God found in the study and practice of His commands.

Not back to favor with God or to salvation because that can't be lost. Those who have been called and justified cannot annul the promise of being glorified (Romans 8:30). They have the promise that the work that has been started in them by God will also be brought to completion by God (Philippians 1:6). They have the Holy Spirit as a guarantee of their salvation (Ephesians 1:4), no matter how well they've managed to stifle His conviction.

Our position before God is never based on us and how well we do choosing Christ and abstaining from sin. It is based in Christ. Always and only Christ-- His holy birth, His holy life, His holy death, His holy resurrection, all "according to the Scriptures," (1 Corinthians 15:3-4) and all the basis for the new covenant (Hebrews, especially 10:11-18) through which we stand before God.

As Colossians 3:3 states, we are hidden with Christ in God. What does this mean but that the unity Jesus prayed for in John 17 has been granted-- that just as He and the Father are one, so we also may be one with each other and, all together, with Him.

We cannot be separated. The Father and Christ cannot be separated; they are One eternally. The Father turned His back on His Son on the cross as He became sin for us (1 Corinthians 5:21), but Jesus didn't cease to be the Father's Son. No, that inexorable title and nature is what caused Christ to rise from the dead in victory! In salvation, we, too-- because we are "hidden in" (within; protected, renewed, kept, and insured by) One who will never be cast away-- are ourselves never to be cast away.

Perhaps you will say that because we are hidden in Christ, we will not give in to sin again for any extended amount of time. Lord willing that will be true. But how much time is too much? For surely we all sin, and that sin takes time to commit. Is there a limit? a grace period that expires at a certain mark, after which you lose your salvation? I don't believe there to be such a scale.

Let's go back to Colossians 3, adding in Ephesians 2-4 which begins with Paul telling us that, though still physically on earth, we also are seated with Christ in Heaven. We see from the order of action in both of these passages that it is only from that position that we are able to give up sin. We are not in Christ because we are doing a good job of resisting temptation on our own. We fight to become sinless because we have been made alive in Christ, and it is only by the strength that He provides that we can obey (Philippians 2:13).

Our position doesn't change because Christ never changes, and, if we are in Him, we are protected by His perfection. He has given His perfect record to us forever. He did not wipe our slate clean at the beginning of salvation to then begin a new record of wrongs.

Yes, God knows our current sins. He isn't blind to our actions; He knows when we've gone astray. But He doesn't attach His wrath to that knowledge, "for Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God." The sentence for every sin we have, are, or will commit has already been spent on Christ.

And that is why we shouldn't continue sinning.

Why Hebrews 10 goes on to say that when we sin, we have "trampled underfoot the Son of God, and profaned the blood of the covenant by which [we are] sanctified, and has treated with arrogance the Spirit of grace."

How dare we disgrace that which has given us our freedom. How much greater wrath do we deserve who spitefully disregard He Who destroyed Himself, so we could be made whole in Him? What further hope do we have than Christ?

But His blood and His covenant, even in the face of great contempt, do not become ineffectual. Because God cannot deny Himself (2 Timothy 2:13), He remains faithful to the covenant He has made with His Son and with us, even when we wander.

Christ is our sacrifice, pointing to His once and for all pardon.

Christ is our King and our Judge, reminding us of His Law and writing it on our hearts, disciplining us in whatever way necessary to cause us to feel true remorse over the "sin that so easily entangles" (Hebrews 12:1) that we might return to Him in repentance.

Christ is our High Priest, "praying for us that our faith may not fail" and instructing us to "strengthen our brothers" by pointing out the deceitfulness of sin and the "surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:8).

If we are truly in Christ, eventually we will listen. And when we've returned, we will have been further refined and purified through the fire of disappointment, discipline, and repentance.

More than Conquerors

“We are more than conquerors through Him Who loved us.” “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

Freedom.

It feels like our worship leaders always quote this during an interlude and we rejoice in it, but how does this freedom affect our lives? What does it free us to do, exactly? Why are we said to be free yet so often called slaves and servants of God and to righteousness?

There is an important distinction: we have been freed from something, but also for something. Freedom from death, freedom for righteousness.

The primary freedom for those in Christ is from the spiritual and eternal death that results from our sin.

At one time we were slaves to sin, slaves to our passions and desires, to that which cannot fully satisfy. We were slaves, because we were unable to do any differently. We were unable to change our desires, our feelings, our thoughts, our actions. 

On our own, we cannot seek God, "no one can come to [Him] unless the Father draws him" (John 6:44). It is He Who gives us the faith to trust in Him. It is that faith which leads us to repentance, to seeing God for Who He is, and, subsequently, ourselves for who we are in comparison to Him. No one trusting in self or sin will inherit Heaven. “And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Corinthians 6:11). 

Through Christ, we are freed from death.

But there is another aspect to this freedom. Through Christ, we are also freed for day-to-day obedience to the Son and the sanctification of the Spirit.

Jesus told His disciples He no longer called them slaves but sons. Slaves do not know the Master’s business, they only do as directed. As sons, there is more than mere duty behind the actions; it is imitation of a father by his child. It is motivated by love and respect and admiration.

In other chapters, Jesus says that we are servants of righteousness. “So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty’” (Luke 17:10). How can both be true? How can we be slaves and also not slaves?

In the former, Jesus talks about motivation-- why we obey. The latter is directed toward our attitude-- how we obey, how we react to that obedience. “Does [the master] thank the servant because he did what was commanded?” No, it “was our duty.” This speaks to our sense of entitlement. We think God owes us something, because we’ve obeyed a few of the commands He died to equip us to carry out. “It is He Who works in us, both to will and to work according to His good pleasure” (Philippians 2:13). It is “He Who began a good work in you” and will “carry it on to completion” (Philippians 1:6). Though we must consciously fight against sin, it is “not I, but the grace of God that is with me” (1 Corinthians 15:10). Servants of righteousness.

We are freed from who are were so that we might become like Christ. But we can't embrace who we are in Christ if we don't separate from who we were before Him. We must renounce sin and replace it with what is right. To not only “hate what is evil,” but also to “cling to what is good” (Romans 12:9). To not only remove “filthiness, foolish talk, and coarse joking, which are out of place among the saints,” but to fill your mouths with “thanksgiving” (Ephesians 5).

Removing sin without replacing it with obedience is to open the door for bitterness. We're tempted to fill our mind with what we’ve been “deprived” of. We're tempted to see God as a bit of a cosmic buzzkill.

This is where Satan got Eve: she focused on being commanded not to eat from one single tree, forgetting her freedom to enjoy the fruit of every other tree in the garden. And she fell to that temptation. We cannot think Christianity is simply to “deny yourself.". It is also to “take up your cross, and follow [Christ],” to become like Him, your desires aligned with His. To “renew your mind” and act accordingly (Romans 12:2).

Freedom from gossip.

Freedom from lying.

Freedom from tearing down.

Freedom from complaining.

Freedom from superficiality.

Freedom for encouragement.

Freedom for speaking the truth in love, with gentleness and respect.

Freedom for building up.

Freedom for giving thanks.

Freedom for vulnerability.

Freedom from loneliness.

Freedom from selfishness.

Freedom from any hint of sexual immorality.

Freedom from pornography.

Freedom from abuse and manipulation.

Freedom for “bearing one another’s burdens.”

Freedom for “outdoing one another in showing honor.”

Freedom for purity.

Freedom for intimacy.

Freedom for symbolizing Christ and the Church.

Freedom from wrath; freedom for peace.

Freedom from sin; freedom for righteousness.

Freedom from death; freedom for everlasting life.

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and Godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for Himself a people for His Own possession who are zealous for good works” (Titus 2).

Don't Wait for Your Future Spouse

"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil... giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ." Ephesians 5.

Women of God encouraging younger women of God to wait patiently for their husbands wooed me into a dissonance of trust and hope. See, over and over again, I was told that "if you just pray", "if you just give up your desires to the Lord", "if you just do what He has you doing now", He will bring the right man at the right time.

Let's translate that into how I perceived it as a 7th grader:

"As soon as you stop looking, you'll trip over him as he's on one knee proposing to you!"

"Focus on obeying God and suddenly there will be the man of your dreams right beside you!"

And how I feel when I find myself still single:

"You have not sufficiently given God your desires to marry."

"You are not obedient enough to warrant a husband."

Needless to say, it was discouraging. And it was also deceiving. Because that just isn't how it works. I wish I had thought through my perceptions before they became instilled in me as truth.

With this mindset, not only am I discouraged about my faith because of my lack of romantic relationships, but I am deceived by my own hidden motives. If I do this, I will get that. I walk in obedience in one direction, the whole time checking back over my shoulder to see if my husband is falling in love with me yet. Suddenly, my obedience and fervor to speak of and act out the Gospel is less about genuine concern and service rendered as unto the Lord, and more of a self-serving "sacrifice" meant to give me what I want.

Maybe this is just my idolatry of marriage playing in to my thoughts. I know this to be at least partially true, as I've been looking ahead to the time of being able to love someone and have them love me in return until death do us part since I was aboouuut 8 years old. So I know I've thrown in some of my own biases while interpreting these well-meaning ladies.

But I think we need to be more specific when it comes to encouraging women to wait and to trust.

God is so good. He knows what I need, who I need, where I need to go, what I need to do. He knows my hopes, and He knows what will best fulfill the desires of my heart because He's the One Who made them.

He doesn't promise that I will get everything I want, but He does promise that if I pursue first His Kingdom and righteousness, He will provide for me everything I need, as a loving father provides for his beloved son.

Need being the key word.

I do have fears of loneliness, but the only time I truly feel lonely is when I'm complaining to people about how lonely I am, because I feel like I'm supposed to, because I'm ridiculous and want pity and compliments. I want someone to tell me of my value in the eyes of men. This isn't a need.

This is silly.

An insult to the Lord, Who sustains and satisfies those who seek Him.

What I need is not to wait on something He doesn't promise, like a love story that puts all other romantic relationships to shame. Maybe one day He does have plans for me to marry, but future possibilities cannot eclipse my current responsibilities or inhibit my thanksgiving.

What I do need to wait for are the instructions that He will give, while living according to the commands He has already given. To actively be still, knowing that He is God. To "run in the path of [His] commands" with joy and trust and peace and self-discipline. 

I need to stop waiting for God to give in to my idolatry while excusing my idleness. I need to wait with hope because God is wiser than I am, His timing and gifts are perfect, He is good, and He loves me and wants what is actually best for me.

That is the best use of my time.

So what if it wasn't good for Adam to be alone, prompting God to make Eve? So what if the first relationship given to ease loneliness was a marital one? Marriage is a shadow of a reality we can all know in Christ-- married or unmarried-- as He betrothes Himself to us, just as He unites us with the Father and with the whole Church of God.

Romantic relationships are not the only ones in which we can be known and loved. They shouldn't be the only ones we put effort into. There are plenty of other interpersonal relationships in which we connect in mentally and spiritually, reminding us that we are fully known and cared for by God.

My value does not rest in the desire of a man; it rests in the constant and unchanging, finished work of Jesus Christ, making me, through faith, forever, an inheriting child of the High King and Creator of all the universe. That is huge.

What the heck does it matter if a cute boy thinks I'm pretty.

"Only God can judge me."

Cultural Jesus today is vastly different than Biblical Jesus.

The world remembers Jesus's love of the outcast but ignores His correction, His charge to the healed to "sin no more."

They remember "For God so loved the world," but ignore that "sending His only begotten Son" was necessary for that love to be salvific.

Our pride causes us to hate being corrected. Who do they think they are to tell me what to do? People appease themselves by saying "only God can judge me," but it is rare that they actually believe He will. If that were the case, they would welcome the correction of humans in light of the holiness and justice of God in His judgment and discipline.

Maybe this is the church's fault. We try so hard to play down the offense of the Gospel by quickly flying through the verses about "falling short" of His glory, being "children of wrath," and deserving His eternal punishment for our many crimes against our Creator. We skip right to the "good stuff," emphasizing His love, His interception of eternal death on our behalf so that we may, in turn, experience His life. And that is good stuff! But it cannot be fully realized if we do not feel the weight of His wrath, of our sinful natures and actions.

His wrath is also the "good stuff."

His justice and His righteousness and His faithfulness to His commands and holiness are very very good. (And what a relief it is to know that God is "not a man, that He should change His mind"!) Forgetting our problems and inability to please God, skipping right to "but don't worry, because He died for you," makes the Gospel man-centered. Skipping over the wrath is a disservice to those who may be called, regenerated, and justified by the Gospel.

Without a proper view of God's righteousness, it's easy to think Jesus died because of us, because God loved us too much to be separated from us. Sure, He does. But God also loves His Own glory. Making His enemies into His children, changing the sinful nature of their hearts into the perfect nature of His Son is glorious. This shift of focus from God to man causes all kinds of problems when  we interpret the Bible and apply it to our lives.

It's time to investigate if we love Jesus or we love how Jesus makes us feel about ourselves.

See, cultural Jesus accepts everyone, tolerates their behavior, and soothes them with words of affirmation that we wish to one day hear a significant other whisper over us as we fall asleep every night.

Cultural Jesus tells them he understands, he knows what it's like. Sin is hard to avoid and therefore you know, it's actually okay to keep sinning, maybe he was being a bit harsh.

Cultural Jesus looks exactly the way we want him to-- shaped according to our ideals, our morals, our hopes, our personalities, our sin. We form him in our image. We make sure his stances match up to our feelings. Cultural Jesus looks a lot like us, and we worship Him for it.

Biblical Jesus changes everything and everyone He comes in contact with. He doesn't look into our souls and tell us we're doing alright, just keep doin' you. He's not here to boost our self-esteem or status, but to give us a joy and confidence that stands unmoved forever outside of ourselves, dependent only on His unchangeable nature and power and kindness and victory, not on our successes and failures.

He is not one to give His approval to that which is shameful or harmful or impure. He is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," and He brings us to the Father to be made new, refreshed by the beauty and closeness of fellowship with an entirely "other," supernatural Being.

Biblical Jesus has feelings, and He knows pain and distress and rejection. He is present and He is near to those who trust in Him. We get so offended when we think of His anger toward those who do not repent to trust in Him. We think that it's unfair. "Shouldn't a God of love, love everyone?," and "if He loves everyone, He couldn't condemn them to hell."

We see that lack of fellowship and dismiss Him as unjust, but He isn't the one rejecting the opportunity for salvation. He did His part, and it cost Him His life.

Biblical Jesus does love us in our sinful state, and He does take us as we are. He doesn't require us to make ourselves clean in order to come to Him.

Biblical Jesus also loves us enough to strengthen and lead us and to "work in us to will and to work according to His good pleasure." We feel the you is kinds, you is smarts, and you is importants of the world in our souls, but there is even greater encouragement in Christ. His intimate knowledge of you, of your individuality, your passions, your fears. And with the fullest possible knowledge of you, He intercedes, He repairs, He shapes.

What greater encouragement exists? He does not make you less you; He makes you more you than you ever knew you could be, because He's the One that designed you! What better freedom is there to be found in this world than to belong to and be skillfully developed by the One Who formed every part of your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual being?

Biblical Jesus isn't just the Priest to sacrifice for us, He is the King and the Judge. He isn't just righteous, He is the Lawgiver and Executor. He is simultaneously requiring us to be and making us holy.

Believer, "you are not your own, for you were bought with a price." You cannot make yourself lost to the One Who purchased you. You are His. He will seek you when you stray, He will satisfy your deepest soul-longings when you stay. 

People accept cultural Jesus because He thinks they're great just the way they are.

Biblical Jesus accepts us because He died to make us acceptable. Literally died for us. Hello. 

One would allow you to live your life in a way he knows to be dangerous just because you enjoy it for now.
The Other was raised from the dead so we could walk in obedience, in that which is truly "life and breath and everything," "because you are precious in [His] eyes, and honored, and [He loves] you."

He has "set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life."

Can I Please God if I'm Just a...?

Related in part to my previous post, found here.

It's very easy for us Christians to feel stuck in a mold. We look around, trying to model our lives after those we admire. We try to conform to their beliefs and personalities and books. Instead of looking to imitate them as they imitate Christ in a way personal to us, we attempt to repeat their choices. 

So, the Church can become a semi-indistinguishable mass when it comes to our futures goals. Everyone wants to be in full-time ministry or a missionary, not taking into consideration if their personalities or persistent struggles line up with it. 

There is caution to be taken. 

It isn't shameful to step back and acknowledge that maybe your quick-tempered, impatient, or somber personality, or the fact that you are prone to condescension or gossip or people-pleasing probably should exclude you from becoming a prominent church leader. 

And there are also spiritual gifts to be considered, because the Holy Spirit controls them and He knows what we've been created to do. We are all equipped with different talents and interests given to us by God to diligently study, practice, and improve upon. And He has given these skills very specifically, according to His will.

We all have different personalities, and, even if we are in the process of being sanctified, some aspects of said personalities should cause us to rethink placing ourselves in a position in which we know we will stumble and possibly destroy the Lord's reputation to hundreds or even thousands of people. We don't need to knowingly place ourselves in tempting situations to prove we are stronger than sin. Running in the opposite direction will typically prove more efficient.

Look, the desire to lead a congregation is a great thing. Many people are made for ministerial jobs, and if those truly called and equipped were not willing, we little sheep would be in sore shape. However, there are other jobs and activities that can bring glory to God. You don't need to be at the pulpit or in the jungle to make a difference for the Lord, and we shouldn't pretend that "secular" jobs are ever truly secular for the Christian. 

God made each of us individually. We shouldn't feel pressure to ignore things which stir up our affections for Him. Personally, any time I read something about space, or the order found through scientific study, or archaeology, or even architecture, I am filled with awe for the Lord and how He maintains His creation and reputation throughout all time. The study or practice of any subject that creates that response in us is worship. Maybe through the discipline of sports or the creative planning of an outfit or the building of furniture causes you to think of the Lord with thankfulness and awe. No Christian should ever tell you that is not a holy occupation. 

It is frustrating to me that we tend not to encourage pursuing a career as an engineer or business owner or, I don't know, race car driver as much as we encourage those who talk about working at a church or in a foreign country. Why do we see anything a Christian does as "common", when God has redeemed us through His Son, calling us and our lives "holy to the Lord," dedicated to His purpose?

Becoming a pastor would be disobedience for the man God called to mow lawns. Forsaking the comforts of home to do full-time missions in a dangerous place would be sin for the woman God called to take care of her elderly parents back home. (And of course the opposite can also be true.)

Every job becomes holy when the person doing it has been reconciled to the Lord and "honors Him as holy" (1 Peter 3:15). And there are no inherently "holy" occupations that would excuse you for ignoring God's direction. 

Above all, we are never excused from sharing the Gospel, no matter our personalities or occupations. If we're better suited to do that by "low-class" work, do it with passion and diligence, for the glory of the Lord. If suited to "high-profile" work, do it with that same passion and diligence, for the glory of the Lord. If it is His calling for us, we should never be swayed by the title and "nobility" of the task, only by the title and nobility of the Christ Who bought us with His blood. Our consideration should be "always, only Christ" and how we can be of most use to Him today.

Whatever situation the Lord has for us, remember Him and acknowledge Him in all your ways. That is the occupation He commends.

Honoring Christ in Comfort

"All who desire to live a Godly life will be persecuted."

These words mark many sermons, trying to stir American Christians to action, to "radical" obedience. Yet, I fear we take these words and make them our measuring rod. Instead of desiring to live Godly, we "desire" to suffer.

I have a Voice of the Martyrs poster hanging in my room and as I was reading and praying, I looked at it. "We worship in church. Thousands of our persecuted brothers and sisters worship in prison." Ouch. What am I doing, laying here in my comfortable bed, with my stomach full of food? 

If every moment of our lives isn't riddled with discomfort and sorrow, are we disobeying God?

The Law of God is "good, pleasing, and perfect," and it calls us to live lives of respect, to "outdo one another in showing honor," and to "consider others more important than ourselves." First of all, wow. Second, if we are truly to do all of that, it's nice for the people that come into contact with us. And that leads to favor with them, believer or not.

Most Christians agree that Jesus was obedient always, and yet, for a time, He had "favor with God and man" (Luke 2:52). The same is said of the apostles in the book of Acts. Favor therefore cannot be sinful on its own.

Nothing can set itself up as my idol. My un-denied self creates it, sets something in the seat only God is worthy of taking. And that is sinful. It is only by seeking comfort that comfort becomes sin; seeking suffering should be rejected on the same grounds. Why?

Because seeking anything but Christ is idolatry.

And so it is that I do not believe people in hostile countries, fraught by constant life or death decisions, are, by that fact alone, more holy or acceptable than any true believer with relative religious freedom.

At one time, Jesus lived a life that earned Him favor with man. That same way of life later caused them to crucify Him. 

He "humbled Himself and became obedient to death-- even death on a cross," BUT He also "fell on his face and prayed, saying, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Yet not as I will but Yours be done."

Jesus didn't seek suffering. He sought God. And that led to suffering. If it had pleased God, He would have let the cup pass from Him.

And that... that is the idea I wish to convey. For many of us, the cross we "pick up" is not, at every moment, arduous, so we feel we have to create our own suffering by being rude, unsympathetic, obstinate then claiming people's (reasonable) offense as persecution. No. Please, no.

The important thing is picking up our cross, deferring to His plans for us. In all things, it's the looking to Christ and following Him that pleases God. The covenant is Christ. The glory is God's.

It is His decision whether suffering or favor best exemplifies His glory in each moment. And praise Christ, He strengthens us in both, for He is the "secret to being content in all circumstances" (Philippians 4:12). So, rather than questioning where He has you right now, "give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

"Test yourselves to see if you are in the faith."

"Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them."

"Let love be genuine." Part 1.

This weekend I facilitated a church event with the 9th grade group of girls I teach on Sundays. I am so thankful for them and for what God has shown them and their willingness to share those things with and encourage each other.

I've been attending/participating in these weekend events since 2005, as a student and, for the past two years, as a leader. It's incredible to be able to serve the ministry that fostered my walk with the Lord so much throughout my teenage years. Unfortunately, as I am a sinful person, a lot of those weekends were riddled with distractions allowed in by my own selfish ambition and discontentment. But one year in particular sticks out in my mind.

One of my last years going as a student I was split from most of my closest friends. At first, I didn't "do everything without complaining or grumbling," but as the weekend went on, I became increasingly thankful for the surpassing wisdom of the Lord. Everyone was so encouraging. We didn't hold back the genuine compliments regarding not only appearance but character, knowing we all need affirmation every once in a while (and, bonus, if it comes from our friends and family, we don't just fall in love with everyone who says something moderately nice to us). People weren't left out, laying all by themselves while everyone else talked about insignificant things instead of falling asleep (ahh sleepovers). It was just a very positive time, and I was thankful for my placement there.

All this to say, the girls in my group this year reminded me of that year.

It was a little awkward the first night, as it always is, not having yet set the tone for the weekend's conversations, not wanting to be the first to say something a little more serious. But it was the conversation that took place on our last night that blessed and convicted me.

"My friend said she never wanted to come back to Bell Shoals again, because no one here cares about her, and everyone judges her."

We all sat for a few seconds processing what one of the girls had just shared. Less than an hour earlier, we'd listened to a sermon about being the church, about letting the Gospel effect our lives. There we were, with our failure to do so staring us in the face.

Being hearers only, not also doers.

Conviction in the room was evident as we talked about our desires to know and be known better. To truly love each other and accept people as Christ accepts them, because He was willing to accept even us. To remember to speak with grace and truth to each other.

The word we kept using was honesty. About our struggles, our sins, our thoughts, our joys. About the unconditional love we need in order to receive the honesty of others with humility and grace. About our inability to do so without the Holy Spirit and His Word.

Their desire to honor the Lord in their relationships was clear through our conversation and tears that night. But it was much more evident later when the whole department met up at a bonfire.

I saw the Lord convict them in a way that brought about change, as they put their words into action. Even now as I think about it, I am convicted anew that so many years of Straight Up Weekend came and went, and my condescending thoughts kept me from being truly affected because "that's sooo lame and I shouldn't need big events in order for God to speak to me."

I still think like this at times.

I almost limit my reactions and the timing of my obedience because I think that it's too typical for Him to speak at a conference or church event. Um? How much FOLLY can I pack into my mind at one time? The Lord is perfect. And events are planned with prayer and the hope of stirring up change. Yes, I should be walking in consistent repentance. True, it shouldn't take an event to cause me to think of the Lord and be convicted of sin. But being ashamed if I learn something life-changing through a church event is crazy.

Anyway, these girls showed me that no matter the timing of the conviction, it is the Lord's power and plan, and He is perfect.

They helped me to see that the church's desire to have genuine love and relationships isn't just something we throw around as a theory; it is an urgent matter of praxis. To truly care about people and be kind to people and speak truthfully to each other, even if it means taking the first step and feeling silly and vulnerable in front of someone.

I-- and I think this is common to the church-- need to remember that the Lord's opinion of me does not change with the opinions of others. And that the Lord comforts me so that I can comfort others (2 Corinthians 1:3-7). And He reveals Himself to me daily in order to bring Himself glory in my mind, but also in the minds of others as I "praise Him in the congregation." And that our trying to appear perfect, to other believers and unbelievers alike, takes praise away from the Lord. Hiding our struggles removes the chance to bear witness that even in the pain and difficulty of life, He is enough, He is joy and hope and peace, and, above all things, He is worthy of praise and honor and glory and of our willing obedience.

"For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them...Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor."

Part 2 of "Let love be genuine."