Joy in the Waiting

Sometimes, I have this idea that if I can just get to this stage in my life, then everything will be okay. Maybe if I get that relationship or that job, I can find that contentment.

To use a phrase that’s been way overused, it’s like I’m waiting for God to open a door so I can walk through and find joy. Then my life will be complete.

But maybe I don’t need to wait for that open door. Something I read on facebook challenged and inspired me. No, it was not about how if I don’t share a certain status, it means I hate puppies and kittens. Not that kind of post.

It said, “Until God opens the next door for you, praise Him in the hallway.”

Maybe you’re in a hallway. Neither here nor there and certainly not where you’d rather spend your time. But hallways are inevitable. Sooner or later, you end up there.

That’s where you learn to really praise God and mean it. That’s where you find joy that is different from the happiness that is dependent on your circumstances, or what happens to you.

That’s where you learn and grow the most. That’s where your faith deepens and your heart expands. That is where you will hear the voice of God most. That’s where you become the person that’s ready for whatever lies behind the door God will open for you next.

Joy is knowing that while you might not know what’s next, God does. Joy is knowing that God’s in your past redeeming it, in your present with you, and in your future waiting for you.

Joy is knowing that God works all things together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. Even in the hallway.

 

Cheap Grace vs. Costly Grace

A very good reminder from Dietrich Bonhoeffer that while grace may be free to us, it is never without cost.

“Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our Church. We are fighting today for costly grace. Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjacks’ wares. The sacraments, the forgiveness of sin, and the consolations of religion are thrown away at cut prices. Grace is represented as the Church’s inexhaustible treasury, from which she showers blessings with generous hands, without asking questions or fixing limits. Grace without price; grace without cost! The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing….

Cheap grace means grace as a doctrine, a principle, a system. It means forgiveness of sins proclaimed as a general truth, the love of God taught as the Christian ‘conception’ of God. An intellectual assent to that idea is held to be of itself sufficient to secure remission of sins…. In such a Church the world finds a cheap covering for its sins; no contrition is required, still less any real desire to be delivered from sin. Cheap grace therefore amounts to a denial of the living Word of God, in fact, a denial of the Incarnation of the Word of God.

Cheap grace means the justification of sin without the justification of the sinner. Grace alone does everything they say, and so everything can remain as it was before. ‘All for sin could not atone.’ Well, then, let the Christian live like the rest of the world, let him model himself on the world’s standards in every sphere of life, and not presumptuously aspire to live a different life under grace from his old life under sin….

Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession…. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man’ will gladly go and self all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble, it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “ye were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.

Costly grace is the sanctuary of God; it has to be protected from the world, and not thrown to the dogs. It is therefore the living word, the Word of God, which he speaks as it pleases him. Costly grace confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus. It comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. Grace is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: ‘My yoke is easy and my burden is light.'”

Another Dangerous Prayer (from Kairos Tonight)

I am mulling over tonight’s message from Kairos on a stomach full of chips and salsa and tortilla soup from Chuy’s. That’s my favorite meal there and I recommend it if you haven’t tried it already. Shameless Tex-Mex plug.

One of the most dangerous and liberating prayers you can pray is: Lord, use me.

It’s dangerous because you never know how God will answer it. You never know where or to whom He will send you. Most likely, it will be a place out of your comfort zone to people you wouldn’t normally associate with. It may not be the safest part of town and it may mean you miss a concert or a party you’d rather be going to.

It will mean that you suddenly are on the radar screen of the enemy. Satan will throw everything he’s got at you if you pray this prayer and really and truly mean it. Probably, those who are most vehemently against what you’re doing will be fellow Christians and the ones criticizing you the most will be churchgoers. But if God is for you, as the song says, who will be able to stand against you?

“Use me” is also the most liberating prayer. Namely, because you realize that God can use you. In fact, God can take any surrendered vessel and any person who has a heart of service and obedience and work mightily through them. If God can use a few fishes and a few loaves of bread to feed a multitude, He can use your life to bless your world. I love what Martin Luther King, Jr, said:

“Everybody can be great…because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”

May God give us hearts full of grace and souls generated by love. May He use us to go where no one else will go to the people no one else wants to touch. May we be a blessing everywhere we go, every place we are to everyone we meet.

 

 

A Borrowed Blog (and a Very Good Reminder)

This was printed in a church bulletin and later posted in a blog by Jon Acuff called Stuff Christians Like, which is probably my favorite blog out there:

“We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, gay, filthy rich, dirt poor, yo no habla Ingles. We extend a special welcome to those who are crying new-borns, skinny as a rail or could afford to lose a few pounds.

We welcome you if you can sing like Andrea Bocelli or like our pastor who can’t carry a note in a bucket. You’re welcome here if you’re “just browsing,” just woke up or just got out of jail. We don’t care if you’re more Catholic than the Pope, or haven’t been in church since little Joey’s Baptism.

We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet, and to teenagers who are growing up too fast. We welcome soccer moms, NASCAR dads, starving artists, tree-huggers, latte-sippers, vegetarians, junk-food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you’re having problems or you’re down in the dumps or if you don’t like “organized religion,” we’ve been there too.

If you blew all your offering money at the dog track, you’re welcome here. We offer a special welcome to those who think the earth is flat, work too hard, don’t work, can’t spell, or because grandma is in town and wanted to go to church.

We welcome those who are inked, pierced or both. We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down your throat as a kid or got lost in traffic and wound up here by mistake. We welcome tourists, seekers and doubters, bleeding hearts … and you!”

Here is the original blog.

http://www.jonacuff.com/stuffchristianslike/2012/07/how-to-welcome-people-to-your-church/

May we remember that no one is beyond saving or out of the reach of the love of Christ.

Lord, I Believe; Help My Unbelief

First of all, you should go to Kairos on Tuesday night if you’ve never been. It’s at 7 pm and it’s in the Connection Center of Brentwood Baptist Church off I-65 exit  71 in Brentwood, TN and it’s awesome. Now that I’ve got my shameless plug out of the way, here’s my takeaway from tonight’s service.

While the scribes and disciples were arguing about who was right and who was wrong, a man was pleading with Jesus to heal his son from a demonic possession. He ended his plea with the words, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

How many times have I felt that way? How many times has it seemed that my faith was so small that it barely qualified as belief at all? That I was holding on to a minuscule-sized hope?

I’ve heard that faith always comes with an element of doubt, because if I was 100% certain of something, I wouldn’t need faith. I think that’s true. If I needed perfect faith to get my prayers answered, I might as well stop praying because my faith is always tempered with doubts and fears.

Many times, I need to pray, “Lord, I believe. In whatever way You choose, whether it’s the way I want, show up and have Your way.”

I heard a song tonight that basically said, “Lord, help me to believe what I already know.” Sometimes, I don’t need more knowledge about God or about my circumstances. I need the ability to believe what I already know to be true about God. I need to believe what God has already shown me countless times before.

It doesn’t take great faith in God for change to happen; it just takes faith in a great God. Even if that faith is a minuscule-sized, mustard-seed faith that barely registers a blip on the scale of belief.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

Not We, But I

I was listening to a conversation today about how “we need to do this” or “the Church needs to do that.” That’s all well and good, I suppose. But it got me thinking. Maybe I need to stop saying “we,” and start saying “I.”

If I’m asking the church to do something that I’m not doing and I’m not willing to do, what good is that? If I want the church to go evangelize and serve the poor, I should be the one going and serving and evangelizing. If I want the church to be more welcoming and loving to strangers, then I should be the first one to go up to someone I don’t know and make him or her feel at home.

It’s easy to hide behind the “we.” It’s easy to say what everyone else should be doing, but quite another thing for me to take my own advice and practice what I preach.

I know I’ve said the church needs to be better at showing grace to people while I’m harboring judgmental thoughts about people. If the church is to transform, I have to be one of the ones willing to change.

I can’t speak for other people. I can’t control how other people respond (or don’t respond). I can only live out my own faith, not someone else’s. I can only be a friend and supporter and do my part, regardless of whether the other person appreciates what I do or totally ignores it.

If I look at what’s wrong with the world, instead of pointing fingers and assigning blame, I only need to look in the mirror.

I love the story about G. K. Chesterton. A leading newspaper queried the leading men of the day and asked them for essays on what was wrong with the world. Chesterton’s response was the shortest and (I think) most astute. He replied, “Dear sirs, I am.”

I have been silent when I should have spoken out and spoken out when I should have been silent. I have done a poor job representing the Christ I love at times. I have to own that. But I also know that if the world is put right again, I have to be the one who will stand up and step out. I can’t expect others to do what I’m not willing to do.

May you and I stop going to church and talking about the church and start being the church today.

Captivated

I’ve been thinking about a sermon I heard today. Not the whole thing or even the main point. Just a side comment that the guest speaker made.

He said that we won’t ever be captivated by a list of things to avoid. A list of sins and bad behavior to not do. We won’t ever be captivated by a desire to escape hell, if that’s all there is to our beliefs.

What we need– what I need in my own life and what I need to see in the lives of others– are people captivated by Christ. People who are so enthralled by the hope of the Gospel that no price is too high to pay so that people really know how much God loves them.

I think people are tired of professing believers whose devotion and faith are lukewarm and halfhearted and to whom Jesus is one of many priorities and not a supreme passion in their lives. People are sick and tired of those who talk like devout believers but live like atheists. Those who profess Christ with their lips but deny Him with their lifestyle (to borrow a quote from Brennan Manning).

I am drawn to people who are passionate. People who love what they do. I think people are naturally drawn to those who have come alive, and people will be drawn to a faith that has captured and captivated the hearts of men and women.

If what I believe doesn’t enthrall and excite me, how can I expect it to enthrall and excite anybody else. Until my whole heart is set on fire for the beauty and glory of Christ, I won’t ever really go out of my way to tell others how wonderful He really is.

That’s my prayer for you and me: hearts that have been captivated by this love of Christ that passionately and relentlessly pursues our hearts every single day. That we are wide-eyed and in awe of the grace of God that stays with us after all the mistakes and screw-ups and failures.

I Don’t Know a Lot

I will be the first to confess that there is a whole lot out there that I don’t know. Particularly when it comes to mathematics or statistics or anything having to do with numbers. I escaped Algebra my freshman year at Union University and haven’t looked back since.

Some days, I feel like I know less than I used to. That is, there are a lot more things I am a lot less certain about than I was ten years ago. Or even five.

I do know a few things with an increasing certainty.

1) My God loves me with a love that is radical almost to the point of being embarrassing. It is a love that is prodigal and liberal and generous and unending.

2) That I am as much in need of grace as I ever was. I truly believe that I love grace as much as I see my need of it. Those who think they are fine without it don’t really put much stock into it, but those who know they are lost without it embrace it with every fiber of their beings. I am one of those in the second category.

3) What will convince a lost world of the genuineness of our faith isn’t how well we can defend and prove what we believe or how adamantly we can argue our side or even the impressive number of good works we can muster. It’s about how much we love each other. That was turned the 1st century world upside down and that’s what will turn our world right-side up again.

4) I know for 100% certain that God is good and His plans for me are good. Period. What I think and feel may tell me differently. What my eyes and ears tell me may speak a different story. But I know in the deepest core of my heart and mind that while my feelings and thoughts and eyes and ears may deceive me and lie to me, God never ever will.

I think that’s all I need to know.

Takeaways from Kairos Roots and 2 Thessalonians 1

Tonight at Kairos Roots, Aaron Bryant spoke from 2 Thessalonians 1 about suffering and persecution in the church at Thessalonica. Interestingly, Paul doesn’t advise them to pray for an end to it, but that it would be a platform through which people can see their patient endurance and love for each other and be drawn to the God they serve.

I am not a fan of suffering. I don’t really like pain all that much. Missing my Sunday nap is about as painful as I like to get.

But I also know that Romans 5:3 speaks of suffering building endurance, which leads to character, which in turn leads to hope. And hope does not disappoint. If I want character that makes an impression and hope that doesn’t fade or fail, I will have to suffer and undergo persecution.

I don’t have to run around yelling, “Hey! Here I am! Please persecute me and cause me intense suffering!” They make pills for that sort of thing. And suffering and persecution will happen if I am faithful to what God has called me to be and do. It’s inevitable.

When people berate and belittle your faith and speak words of hate at you, they expect hate in return. What gets their attention is when you respond with the love of Christ. That kind of love doesn’t come from a life of ease and comfort; it is born and grows in hardship and adversity, through trials where it is strengthened and challenged.

As much as I want all my stop lights to be green and everyone to be nice to me and always agree with me on everything, life doesn’t work that way. That’s not how God operates. He doesn’t want me happy nearly as much as He wants me holy.

I think that Americans can expect to see more persecution in the months and years to come. I think that we who are not ashamed of our faith and hold unswervingly to our convictions and values will face ridicule and being ostracized. Maybe even one day in the future, our beliefs will land us in jail or even lead to martyrdom.

All I know is that right now, I am called to be faithful where I am, no matter if the people around me like it or not. I am not called to please everybody, but only one. Only what God thinks of me matters.

 

My Favorite Psalm (As Of August 8, 2012)

Note: I don’t always recommend The Message because it gets a little too loose with the translation sometimes. But in this case, it got it right (I think). I probably read this Psalm straight through at least three times. This is almost like reading my own diary.

“I give you all the credit, God— you got me out of that mess,

you didn’t let my foes gloat.

God, my God, I yelled for help

and you put me together.

God, you pulled me out of the grave,

gave me another chance at life

when I was down-and-out.

All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!

Thank him to his face!

He gets angry once in a while, but across

a lifetime there is only love.

The nights of crying your eyes out

give way to days of laughter.

When things were going great

I crowed, “I’ve got it made.

I’m God’s favorite.

He made me king of the mountain.”

Then you looked the other way

and I fell to pieces.

I called out to you, God;

I laid my case before you:

“Can you sell me for a profit when I’m dead?

auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?

When I’m ‘dust to dust’ my songs

and stories of you won’t sell.

So listen! and be kind!

Help me out of this!”

You did it: you changed wild lament

into whirling dance;

You ripped off my black mourning band

and decked me with wildflowers.

I’m about to burst with song;

I can’t keep quiet about you.

God, my God,

I can’t thank you enough.” (Psalm 30).