Showing the Way Out

When your brain is french toast, sometimes it’s good to let someone else take over. In this case, it’s Uncle Mikey, a reference that us old Kairos faithful will understand while the rest of the world calls him Dr. Mike Glenn:

“I’ve long joked that sympathy is overrated. When things are going bad for me, I really don’t want someone to tell me they know how I feel. I want someone to come and say, “Yes, I know how you feel and I know the way out.”

I think we forget how completely sin messes up our lives. Sin not only messes up our lives, it messes up the way our minds and bodies work. Ever talked to people trying to justify their addiction? In their minds, they’re making complete sense. That’s what happens. Sin destroys relationships, bodies, minds, and souls.

That’s why telling someone what they’re doing is wrong without offering to help them get out of it is, well, pretty much a waste of time. You may feel better, but the person you’re talking to won’t. What’s more, they’ll probably just get mad and walk away, more committed to their destructive choices.

Jesus shows us another way. First, Jesus never confronted anybody without giving that person a way out. The religious leaders of the day, Jesus pointed out, were quick to make a lot of rules but never helped anyone keep them. Jesus would always point the person to the way out of bondage.

Second, Jesus walked with sinners as they found their way. The scandal of the incarnation is that God loves us so much that He came into our world. He walked into our lives and told us if we’d follow Him, He’d show us the way home.

Whenever I talk about abortion, I always mention our partnership with Hope Clinic, a crisis pregnancy center in Nashville. I always want people to know there are people eager and ready to help, no matter what situation they’re facing.

Since the beginning of time, God has been on a Divine rescue mission. We, the local church, are extensions of that work. Finding the lost is great, but telling them the way home—and then walking it with them—is even better” (Dr. Mike Glenn).

Thankful for Grace

“O God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, we hope in thy Word. There we see thee, not on a fearful throne of judgment, but on a throne of grace, waiting to be gracious, and exalted in mercy. There we hear thee saying, not ‘Depart ye cursed,’ but ‘Look unto me and be ye saved, for I am God and there is none else.'”

I’m thankful for that throne of grace. I know I deserve the fearful throne of judgment. If I’m honest, there’s no way I could hope in a million years for mercy. If I got what I deserved, I’d hear the words “Depart ye cursed.” But I hear the words “Look unto me and be ye saved, for I am God and there is none else.”

The question isn’t why aren’t there more ways to be saved than through Jesus. The question is why do I get to be saved at all, considering what I’ve done and what thoughts go through my mind and who I could be apart from the very grace of God.

The question isn’t why bad things happen to good people, because we know there aren’t any good people who have never sinned. As R. C. Sproul once said, bad things happened to a good man only once because He volunteered for it. He chose the nails. He chose the cross. That’s why I can be declared righteous.

I remember people used to say things like “If anyone deserves to get into heaven, it’s . . .” fill in the blank with any upstanding citizen. But truthfully no one deserves to get into heaven. Not one. Not you. Not me. None. Only Jesus deserves to be in heaven, but He left His throne for the likes of you and me so we could get there, not by our own efforts but by His own shed blood.

I’m thankful that salvation belongs not to the strong or the fast or to the intelligent or the clever. Salvation belongs to those who humbly repent and place their faith in Jesus as Savior and Lord. That’s it.

To Those Who Grieve

“Look upon each of us now. There are so many families that have been bereaved, that we pray for all. You take away a mother here; you take away a husband there; you remove a child there; you are smiting on the right hand and on the left. We would kiss the rod and the hand that wields it, but we pray that the richest consolation may be given, especially to those who suffer much.
We pray that richer consolation than usual may be given where it is most required. Sanctify their bereavements. May the whole of the flock feel that when the Shepherd is taking away one after another, it is time for us to be ready for his coming.
Amen” (Charles Spurgeon).

Right now, I’m thinking about Erika Kirk, the widow of recently assassinated Charlie Kirk, who spoke the words “I forgive him” about the person who pulled the trigger and prematurely ended Charlie’s life. That’s not a natural response to loss. That can only happen under the power of the Holy Spirit and in someone whose heart is ruled by the peace of Christ.

There’s something so unnatural about death. It wasn’t in the original design, but sin entered the world and brought death and decay with it. So now we live in a world where life is temporary and fleeting. But we have the hope and promise of the resurrection.

Because Jesus was dead and is alive forevermore, so can we. We can face death with the knowledge that it is a defeated foe and won’t have the final say. We can grieve the ones we love with hope because we know that they currently more alive than ever but have merely changed their address (as the late Billy Graham once said).

I love the illustration about a man told a famous doctor that he was afraid of dying. The doctor responded by pointing to the office door where they both could hear a scratching sound and a whining voice behind it. Once the doctor opened the door, his dog came joyfully rushing in to embrace his master. The doctor said that the dog knew nothing about the office before he entered — only that his master was there.

And so it is with heaven. We know snippets. We don’t know a lot of details. We may not know much about what happens when we die. We just know that our Master is there. And that is enough to give us joy in the midst of our fear. We can rest in the assurance that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. What we know see dimly through eyes of mustard seed faith we will see clearly by sight one day. And Jesus will be there. That’s enough.

The Whole Gospel

“There is no doctrine which I would more willingly remove from Christianity than this, if it lay in my power. But it has the full support of Scripture and, specially, of Our Lord’s own words; it has always been held by Christendom; and it has the support of reason. If a game is played, it must be possible to lose it. If the happiness of a creature lies in self-surrender, no one can make that surrender but himself (though many can help him to make it) and he may refuse. I would pay any price to be able to say truthfully “All will be saved.” But my reason retorts, ‘Without their will, or with it?’ If I say ‘Without their will’ I at once perceive a contradiction; how can the supreme voluntary act of self-surrender be involuntary? If I say ‘With their will,’ my reason replies ‘How if they will not give in?’. . .

The doors of Hell are locked on the inside. I do not mean that the ghosts may not wish to come out of Hell, in the vague fashion wherein an envious man ‘wishes’ to be happy: but they certainly do not will even the first preliminary stages of that self-abandonment through which alone the soul can reach any good. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded, and are therefore self-enslaved: just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free” (C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain).

If we want to be true to the true gospel, we have to be true to the Word of God. If we are true to the Word of God, then we must believe that there is a hell as much as there is a heaven. There is no universal salvation. Some will be saved, some will not.

Jesus mentions that the road to life is narrow, and few find it. He then proceeds to say that the road to destruction is broad, and many are on it. As much as I want to believe that everyone is on their way to heaven, I can’t deny these words of Jesus.

That’s why the offer of the gospel still stands. To whomever will repent of their sins and receive Jesus as Lord and Savior, God will grant them eternal life. God will save anyone who calls on Him in faith. God is not willing that you should perish but that you should be saved.

You can pray a prayer like this: “Jesus, I know I’m a sinner. I know I’m separated from you. I deeply regret and repent of my sin. I turn to You in faith and receive you now as my Lord and Savior. I commit myself to following You for the rest of my days and to obeying whatever You ask of me from now until eternity. Thank You for saving me. Amen”

My Eye on the Goal

I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back” (Philippians 3:12-14, The Message).

That’s the key, isn’t it. Keeping my eye on the goal?

But what does that look like? Anymore, there’s no such thing as working 40 years for one company and retiring with a gold watch and a pension. The average person will work for several different places across many types of jobs over his or her lifetime.

But what is the goal then? If you read the Apostle Paul in other places, he talks about keeping our eyes on Christ. To keep your eyes on Christ is to keep your eyes on the goal, because Christ is the goal. Not retirement. Not comfortable living. Not a pension. Jesus is the goal.

Not only that but Christ is the means to that goal. Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount that the poor in spirit are blessed because the Kingdom of God is theirs. That means those of us who know we have nothing to offer God are blessed because we have nowhere to turn and nowhere to lean but on Jesus and the promises of God.

Still, it’s quite easy to get distracted by all the shiny baubles of the world. It’s easy in the midst of a storm to focus on the wind and the waves and take our eyes off of the Master of those winds and waves. We are so easily distracted and forgetful, which is why we need the constant reminder of keeping our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

How do we keep our eyes on Jesus? By preaching the gospel to ourselves at least once a day every day. We need to remember that we’re sinners in need of a Savior. We need to remember that salvation comes through faith by means of repentance and trust in the finished work of Jesus on the cross. We need to remember that we’re saved by faith alone, not by any works or good deeds of ours. We need to remember that Jesus promised that those who trust God with their lives would receive eternal abundant life not just in the hereafter but in the here and now.

May you and I never stop encouraging each other, especially in these last days, to keep our eyes on Jesus as the goal of everything we do and everything we are.

Jesus Is Lord

“Paul often referred to himself as a ‘slave’ of Jesus Christ. Because we’ve grown up in an American democracy, few of us understand the radical nature of Paul’s description.

Paul was literally saying that Jesus bought him. In His death and resurrection, Jesus paid for Paul. Jesus bought his career, desires, dreams, talents—his total life!

Paul had no will of his own, no dreams of his own. They all belonged to Jesus.

Christians often exclaim ‘Jesus is Lord!’ without much thought to what we’re actually saying. When we say this, we’re saying: ‘Jesus owns us. He’s the boss.’

We’re committed to doing WHAT Jesus says to do, WHEN He says to do it, the WAY He says to do it.

Our lives are not our own. We’ve been bought with a price—a terrible, unspeakable price. And how we live now tells the world exactly what we think of Jesus and His death for us” (Mike Glenn).

I sometimes think that if we truly meant what we said when we proclaim that Jesus is Lord, our lives would look totally different. At least mine would.

Can I live in open sin and truthfully say that Jesus is Lord? No.

Can I be permissive about what the Bible forbids and say that Jesus is Lord? No.

Can I call my own shots and ask God to bless what I’ve already decided to do and still claim that Jesus is Lord? Absolutely not.

Can I sing about the joy of the Lord and then live with a sour face and a sad disposition because my true greatest joy is in something other than God that can be taken away, then shout at the top of my lungs that Jesus is Lord? No way.

If Jesus is my Lord, then I have no rights. What He says, goes. Period. I submit to His will 100%. Otherwise, I’m just paying lip service and I am still my own lord. Not Jesus.

The irony of the Bible is that true freedom isn’t doing what you want because then you become a slave to your whims and desires. True freedom comes from being a slave to Jesus and finding your true self in the process. You’re not beholden to anything or anyone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.

May we live like Jesus as Lord as often as we say Jesus is Lord. Then more people will want to know Jesus as Savior and Lord.

Dealing with Pride

“For pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity).

In the Bible, you see that pride is not something to celebrate but instead something to crucify. The Bible says that pride goes before a fall. Not just some of the time but all of the time. Why am I sharing that?

Because pride is something I deal with on a daily basis. I am prone to be proud in one of two ways — either thinking too much of myself and my abilities or thinking too little of myself and still keeping the focus all on me.

The antidote to pride, as the old saying goes, is not to think less of yourself but to think of yourself less. That comes from focusing on others more, and above all, focusing on God most.

Very often, I find that those trials God puts me through that I’d rather avoid are precisely the ones I need most. Those are teaching me to put away pride and embrace humility and dependence on God. Every time I think that I won’t make it and still somehow wake up to another day is another reason to lean hard on God.

The ultimate irony of the life of faith for someone like me is that it’s easy to get prideful about my humility. It’s easy for me to boast (even if only to myself) about how much I’m trusting in God. It can become a show where I’m the main attraction. In that case, I’ve missed the point entirely.

The older I get, the more I understand what Jesus meant about the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing. It means that as I work out my faith, sometimes those qualities that I pray for and long for can come out of me without me even being aware of it. Sometimes, I can see it in others without their being aware of it.

That’s why in-person one-on-one community is vital instead of being isolated and connecting only through virtual and online. But that’s really a topic for another day.

Jesus said that pride isn’t something to boast about but something to put to death. That means that every time I see it rising up in me, I need to take those thoughts and intentions captive and pray for God’s grace to keep me humble and surrendered. That’s when God can truly show up and show out.

The Last Week

Today is Palm Sunday and marks the beginning of the last week of Jesus’ earthly ministry, the week leading up to Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I’ve been here before, but I feel like so many times I’ve rushed to get through it to what’s next.

This time, I want to slow down a bit and sit under the cross. I want to be still long enough to hear God speak a word over me about what this week means for me and for all those who call on the Messiah out of a genuine faith. I want to be moved to tears and fully take in the price that Jesus paid for me.

I finished an incredible devotional by one of my favorite writers, Charles Martin. It’s called It Is Finished and spends 40 days walking the path that led from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, sparing no details and leaving no stone unturned. It was one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, and I hope to read it again some day.

I want Easter to mean more than the Easter Bunny or Cadbury chocolate eggs (though I am very much a fan of both). I don’t want to look at the date on the calendar and miss the point of the day — Jesus who knew no sin became sin for me that I might become the righteousness of God in Christ.

I don’t want to be the same person in seven days as the person who is now writing these words. I want to be more like Jesus, more aware of the sacrifice He made, and more willing to count the cost and take up my own cross. I want to be more of a disciple and less of an admirer. I want to be more of a follower and less of a fan. I want to be a truly biblical Christian and not a watered-down, American Christian.

I’m thankful that God is far more patient with me than I am with Him and takes far more time with me than I ever have with Him. At this point, I say, “Lord, do whatever it takes to make me Yours, Your disciple, Your own. Have Your way in me. Amen.”

Another Gem from The Message

“It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on. This isn’t the first time I have warned you, you know. If you use your freedom this way, you will not inherit God’s kingdom. But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely” (Galatians 5:19-23, The Message).

I think that says is all perfectly. Trying to live any other way than the way of Jesus is a facade. It’s like a carnival funhouse where things you encounter may be amusing, but none of it’s real. Everything is an illusion or a deception.

But that’s not how it is with God. What you see is what you get. Or sometimes, what you don’t see is what you get. It’s about trusting in advance what will only make sense in reverse, as I heard it put one time. But it’s also living in the unshakable confidence that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God, that suffering is temporary, that the best really is yet to come.

The Christian life is really just a series of oases in the wilderness where we can rest and be refreshed. The wilderness is where we grow and learn. As much as we want our lives to be one continual oasis, God knows we’d never learn dependence on God that way. We’d never mature beyond baby believers. Plus, God is with us in the wilderness as He was with the children of Israel, leading the way the entire time.

Here’s my favorite lesson I’ve learned recently. Jesus + nothing else = everything. End of story.

Driven to Tears

Tonight at Room in the Inn, we had our annual Q & A instead of the usual Bible study for the homeless guests. There were four of us who each took one theological question and gave a roughly five-minute answer. The one that stays with me is when Tommy Woods did the question on what is the gospel and why does it matter.

It wasn’t so much in what he said but how even talking about the gospel got him emotional. Talking about the magnitude of what Jesus did for us on the cross brought him to tears. I was moved by the passion behind the emotion.

I sometimes wonder if we really understood what Christ went through on the cross, how much he really suffered, and how great the pain of bearing a whole world of sin felt, wouldn’t it bring us to tears every single time? How could I not be moved by the One who moved heaven and earth to get to me in my lostness and rescue me from my own rebellion?

I think if we knew how much God really paid for the free gift of our salvation, we’d sing a lot louder. We’d worship more boldly. We’d live more sacrificially. We’d never stop being a thankful people instead of a grumbling and complaining people.

Jesus once told the story of two debtors: one owed $50 and the other owed $500. He said this to defend the woman who broke a jar of expensive perfume to bathe Jesus’ feet while using her hair as a towel. He said the one forgiven much is the one who loves much.

If we think we’re basically good people with a few minor hangups and faults, we might feel a little entitled about our salvation. If we think we’re bad people who needed to be made good, we might offer up a token prayer of gratitude. But if we know that we were dead in sin and God in Jesus made us alive, we’d spend all eternity in thankful praise. And one day, we will.