My Belated Birthday Blog Post

My birthday ended 33 minutes ago. I was tossing and turning in bed, trying unsuccessfully to sleep when I remembered that I had forgotten to write my daily blog post. I suppose getting a bit forgetful comes with turning 53.

I am blessed. This season of unemployment that I’m in isn’t one that I would have chosen, but I have learned a lot. Not so much new information, though there’s been some. Mostly, it’s just being reminded of what I already knew. It’s having that information go from theoretical to experiential.

I honestly don’t know what’s next. There have been moments of near-panic and high anxiety and there have been moments of calm and serenity. I have had thoughts of “God, please help” and “I can’t wait to see what God does next.”

My main prayer remains the same. It’s the prayer that never fails — Thy will be done. Even if it’s not my will. Even if it means my will, my desires, my goals be undone. Even if it means I am undone. I want God’s will because I know it’s the best.

I don’t believe in the saying that God never gives us more than we can handle. I think God never gives us more than He can handle. It’s true that God never allows us to be tempted beyond what we can bear but gives us a way out. But God’s testing is a different matter. My dependence on God grows as I am tested beyond enduring and I lean on the Lord for strength.

“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:8-9, NIV).

There’s joy at the end of this tunnel.

Unselfishness Vs. Love

“If you asked twenty good men today what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you had asked almost any of the great Christians of old, he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more than philological importance. The negative idea of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love. The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self- denial as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased” (C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory).

I heard someone wise once say that it’s not enough to resist temptation, unlearn bad habits, and give up unhealthy thoughts and actions. You need to replace all these with good habits, healthy choices, and obedience. Otherwise, you end up with a different set of bad habits and vices.

I remember my pastor commented on how old-school Baptists were known more for what they were against than what they were for. He said they used to show up in church and brag about not having done anything bad — or actually anything at all.

To be unselfish just to be unselfish is missing the mark. You’re likely to pick up bitterness (from all that you gave up) or self-righteousness (at how much better you are than those who still indulge in what you gave up).

Love is the opposite of selfishness, not unselfishness, because it is self-less. We don’t need to think less of ourselves as the antidote to thinking too much of ourselves. We just need to think about ourselves less and more about others and God.

We miss the mark when we make it about modifying our behavior and being more moral when it’s about emptying of self so there’s more room for God and His ways. It’s not about becoming a slightly better version of me but about becoming a brand new me, one that looks and acts like Jesus.

More Than You Can Handle

The old saying goes like this: God will never give you more than you can handle.

It sounds good. It sounds biblical. The only problem is that it’s not.

1 Corinthians 10:13 says that God will not let you be tempted beyond what you are able to bear, but will provide a way out, so that you may be able to endure.

The key difference, as Chris Brooks explained tonight in Kairos, is that we are often given more than we can handle by ourselves. Our strength lies in community and our ability to endure rests in fellowship.

If God never gave me as an individual more than I could handle, I’d more than likely slip into self-righteousness and be completely lacking in grace toward others who are struggling. I wouldn’t know the sweet communion that comes from prayers of desperation and surrender. As it is, God often allows me to go through circumstances and situations that force me to rely on God’s sustaining strength and the combined power of community.

The problem with God never giving me more than I can handle is that if I’m struggling, then the fault must lie with me. I must not have enough faith. I must be doing it wrong.

Even the apostle Paul and his companions went through situations that were beyond their ability to bear. Paul himself was given a thorn in his flesh that he begged God to remove, but God declared that His strength would be made perfect in Paul’s very weakness he felt he could not endure.

I love what Chris said. He said that yes, God will give you more than you can bear. He will give you more grace, more love, and more mercy than you can handle. Not only that, but His mercies and grace will be new every morning.

I confess that God Himself is more than I can handle sometimes. If I could completely comprehend and grasp all that is the Eternal Mystery with my finite understanding, then what I am beholding isn’t the Infinite God but a god of my own creation.

God is so much more than anything I could dream up or imagine on my own. He’s big enough for whatever is too much for me to handle and strong enough to get me through what I cannot bear and tender enough to surround me with those who will be able to bear with me through seasons of trial and temptation.

 

Witness to Your Life

Sometimes, the most powerful impact we can have over someone’s life is a silent one. There are no words necessary.

Sometimes there is nothing more meaningful than to look at someone as if to say, “I see you. You are not alone. You are not forgotten. I am a witness to the fact of your existence and your life is not in vain.”

So many are hungry for such a look. They so desperately need to know that somebody — anybody– sees them in all their hurt and despair. They want answers and a way out, but just as much they want at least one person to see their struggle. Even more than a kind word, a smile at just the right time can be the difference between life and death, pressing on and giving up.

I’m comforted to know that there is never a moment when God doesn’t see me. Not in the sense of waiting for my transgression to pounce on me in vengeful wrath, but in the sense of a loving Father who wants to guide His child safely through.

There is nothing I can experience that God in Jesus did not also live through. There is no temptation, no struggle, no pain that He isn’t familiar with, and thus there is no time and place where He won’t provide a way through or a way out.

Maybe this week take time to give a smile to someone you pass in the hall or on the street. Maybe offer a greeting. You never know the power of those kind words that come out of really seeing and acknowledging someone as one of God’s children.

Once you understand the Father’s heart toward you, you begin to live out of the overflow of unconditional love and acceptance and there is enough love to pass around to someone else who needs it as badly as you.

 

Judges: A Book Review

So here I am, reading through the Bible again. I just finished the book of Judges. In my opinion, that has to be the most depressing book in the Bible.

In the first few verses of the book, it tells us that after the generation that claimed the Promised Land died out, the very next generation that came after didn’t know the Lord or what He had done for His people.

That didn’t take long.

There is a familiar pattern in judges, repeated ad nauseum. The people run after the next available god, fall into sin, get into trouble, and call on God. God sends a deliverer who bails them out and there is peace in the land — until another cheap idol shows up.

I read the Bible and I see the people of God by and large acting like anything but the people of God. It can be very frustrating.

Then I remember that I am one of those people of God. I find myself falling into familiar patterns of sin over and over, despite the guilt that remains from the last time. I find myself renewing the old promise of “never again,” which lasts until the next opportunity presents itself.

So I can relate.

I’m not excusing my (or anyone else’s sin). I’m just saying that doesn’t have to be the end of the story. It doesn’t have to be the familiar refrain.

I’m thankful for a grace that goes deeper and longer than any sin. I’m also thankful for a God who refuses to let me wallow in my self-destructive sin, but will provide me a way out. He won’t rest or quit with me until I am 100% sin-free.

I know that my story is your story. It’s the story of every child of God. But I also know that story doesn’t end with sin. It ends with grace.

 

 

The Walking Greg

For my exciting Saturday evening, I binge-watched season 5 of The Walking Dead. Not all of it, just most of it.

It is interesting to me how the core group of the show has been scattered many times over the course of the series, yet they always find a way to reconnect.

That’s a great picture of the Church. We meet corporately on Sunday to remember and celebrate what God has done during the week and then each go our separate ways on Monday through Saturday, to reconnect the next Sunday.

I’ve learned that that by itself isn’t enough. You need more than once a week togetherness to pull through. You need brothers and sisters in Christ who will encourage and support, as well as hold you accountable at least once or twice during the week (other than Sunday).

There it is. Not exactly earth-shattering or new. The secret is community.

Yet how many times are we tempted and drawn to the whole “you have to fight your battles alone and trust no one but yourself” thing? It seems that the first instinct when any struggle arises is to retreat into isolation.

That’s where most temptations are fought . . . and lost.

Most of us aren’t strong enough to face demons alone. We do really need each other.

So that’s my not exactly original message to you. It’s been said before (and probably better), but it does bear repeating that community is vital to survival in a world increasingly hostile to those who proclaim and actually follow Jesus.

It’s probably only going to get worse from here on out, so take heart and reach out to connect with fellow believers.

That’s all I have on this Saturday night at 10:29 pm.

Good night.

 

The Silver Chair

SONY DSC

SONY DSC

So now I’m reading The Silver Chair. That means I only have one more Narnia book after this. Also, I believe there will be a movie hitting theaters in the next year or two based on this book (although I’m a bit skeptical as to how faithful the filmmakers will be to the original source material).

I do love this book.

I love how Eustace Scrubb and Jill Pole escape from their dreary clouded school day into bright and sunny Narnia. Well, technically they start out in Aslan’s country, but it’s in the same world.

I also love that ol’ Puddleglum, the Marsh-wiggle. He’s the pessimist of all pessimists, but he’s the one who keeps the other two grounded and who comes through grandly in the climactic scene (which I won’t divulge for those who haven’t read these books yet).

I especially love how the book’s theme is that you can make a royal mess at the start– to the point that it seems like you’ll never get back on track– and still at the end find a way to succeed. After all, it’s not how you start that matters, but how you finish.

More accurately in my experience, it’s not how many times you’ve screwed up or how big a fiasco you’ve made of your life up to this point, but how God can transform even that into good. Or better yet into something marvelous.

It’s funny how the evil scheme was to get one of the main characters, who had been bewitched, to steal what was already rightfully his. It’s funnier still how Satan did the same to Jesus, offering Him the world if He would only worship the prince of lies. Jesus knew that the world and everything in it was already His. Furthermore, He knew that all this world was not Satan’s to give in the first place.

Temptation is often the devil trying to get us to go after something good, but in the wrong way at the wrong time, like having premarital sex or having an affair instead of enjoying intimacy with the one God made especially for you. He offers what is not really his to give and what God alone can truly give, but often in a way that is different and much better than we would have chosen.

So I give the book 5 stars. Out of 5.

PS There is a BBC film version that is quite faithful to the book but looks as though it had a special effects budget of about $8. It’s good in a campy sort of way.

No Fear

“Since in Jesus, the Son of God, we have the supreme high priest who has gone through to the highest heaven, we must hold firm to our profession of faith. For the high priest we have is not incapable of feeling our weaknesses with us, but has been put to the test in exactly the same way as ourselves, apart from sin. Let us, then, have no fear in approaching the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace when we are in need of help” (Hebrews 4:14-16).

These were the main verses used by Aaron Bryant in his sermon this morning at The Church at Avenue South. Most translations that I’ve ever read render the last verse as let us “come boldly” to the throne of grace. I like this version, taken from the New Jerusalem Bible.

“Let us, then,  have no fear in approaching the throne of grace.”

I think most of us live in one kind of fear or another. Maybe it’s anxiety. Maybe it’s paranoia. Whatever the case, fear saps the very lifeblood from our veins.

Who is it that can say to me to not have fear as I approach the throne of grace? The same one who said in 1 John 4:18 that perfect love casts out all fear. The same one who invites me not to a throne of judgment or condemnation, but a throne of grace. And best of all, the invitation comes at just the perfect moment– in my time of need.

I love that Jesus is like me and yet so unlike me. He’s like me in that He’s been tempted in every way I’ve ever been tempted, yet He’s also so unlike me in that He never once caved in to any of those temptations. Not once. Props to Aaron for that concept.

Let us come boldly and with no fear to that throne of grace, not just for ourselves but for those around us whose lives are defined and dominated by fear.

 

Remembering

“I slew him—this right hand struck the dagger to his heart. My deeds slew Christ. Alas! I slew my best beloved; I killed him who loved me with an everlasting love. Oh eyes, why do you refuse to weep when you see Jesus’ body mangled and torn? Give vent to your sorrow, Christians, for you have good reason to do so” (adapted from “The Tomb of Jesus” by Charles Spurgeon).

Every time I think my sin is no big deal, I should read this. Every time I think that I can keep sinning and God’s grace will cover it, I need to remember that my sin always costs something. It cost God everything.

Although I may be free from the penalty of sin, I’m not free from its consequences, one of those being the inability to sense God’s presence in my life. Plus, I’ve found that when I give in to temptation and sin, I become very me-focused as opposed to others-focused and God-focused.

So this Easter season, I’m remembering that even though my salvation was free for me, it was not free for God. It cost Him Jesus. That sin that I take so lightly required a payment of blood and death. It should have been my blood and my death but Jesus took that penalty, not so that I could continue to take sin lightly, but so that I might finally have the freedom to walk away from it.

Better still, I can claim the promise that no matter how far down my sin takes me, God’s grace is deeper still. Even with all my best intentions and even despite my endeavors to take sin seriously, I will still stumble and I will still have bad days and bad weeks. But God is still faithful when I am faithless and He will still finish what He started in me.

 

 

 

At the End of Your Rope

hang on

There’s a cliche that goes something like this: when you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on. Apparently, according to various internet sources, this quote has been attributed to Franklin D. Roosevelt, Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln. I’m a little skeptical about any of those actually having said that.

There is some truth to that. If it were me, I’d probably phrase it like this: when you come to the end of you, you come to the beginning of God and His mercies.

When you come to the point when you realize that you bring nothing to the table, that you really are poor in spirit (as the first Beatitude states), and that you don’t have it in you, then you can declare your declaration of dependence on God and find out how strong He really is.

There’s another cliche that may be overused but only because it’s true: you never know how much you have in God until He’s all that you have. Or something like that.

I think sometimes, God deliberately brings us to places where we are grossly inadequate to show how sufficient He really is. The whole notion of God never giving us more than we can handle? I don’t buy it. I think if God never gave us more than we could manage, we’d always maintain the illusion of self-sufficiency. And by the way, the verse doesn’t say God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. It says He never allows us to be tempted beyond what we’re able to bear. There’s a difference.

But once you’re at the end of your proverbial rope, you do find that it’s a good place to be because it’s there that you really and truly see God. It’s when you can find out how strong He is to save those who cry out in desperation to Him day and night. Especially if you’re one of those ones crying out.

I personally would rather be able to read someone else’s sob story and be able to say, “Lesson learned.” But if I’m honest, I know that some lessons are best learned in the dark and hard places and some of the sweetest experiences with God only come out of trials and tribulations.