Death Is Where We Are Now

Someone posted this awesome article on Facebook this week, which I encourage you to click on and read here. But I want to summarize for you the points he made that really hit home with me.

See, we tend to think of death (and conversely, life) in a time perspective. We are living now; someday, death will happen to us; and then, if we're saved, we get "eternal life."

Only that's not quite right. I love the way this writer, J.D. Walt, puts it:

You see, death is not something that happens to us when we die. It’s something we carry around in our bodies that finally takes us down. Death is the disease we are born with and the one that will eventually kill us. 

Did you get that? We carry around death all the time. We are "in death" right now. It's not that we are going to die someday -- it's that we are in the process of dying from the moment we were born.

And it's that this is not how God made humanity in the first place. Do you remember what God told Adam and Eve about the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil? "When you eat from it, you will certainly die." Now, I've heard people make a big deal out of the fact that they didn't fall down dead the minute they chomped the fruit. That's not the point. Eating from that tree brought on the disease of death -- a disease that we all inherited from them. We will die. Before that, we apparently wouldn't have.

More than that, it's not even that we will physically die at some future point in time -- again, it's not a time thing. It's that we are not really "living" now.

Again, I love what Walt says about eternal life:

Eternal Life is not that portion of life that begins after we die. No, Eternal Life is the Person of Jesus Christ. Eternal Life means the restoration of human beings to God’s original intentions—i.e. like Jesus Christ. Eternal Life is a qualitative change, one dimension of which is the end of thinking about time as a quantitative reality. Eternal Life is the infusion of the very life of God into a human person. It has a durable nature of an unending quality. 

Eternal life is not about quantity of years; it's something qualitatively different from what we have now. It's something akin to what Adam and Eve had before the fall. It's what Jesus had after his resurrection. And it's not something we have to wait for until after we die. It's something Christ will start creating in us right now.

This is deep stuff. This is stuff that will roll around in my brain for months as it meshes with the other info in my brain and scripture I read and teaching I hear and life I live. When stuff like this jumps out at me, I get really excited to see what difference it's going to make in my life this time next year -- when I really understand it.

God's Record-Keeping

"If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, 
Lord, who could stand?" 
But with you there is forgiveness . . . (Psalm 130)

God doesn't keep a record of our sins. Psalm 130 tells us that. 1 Corinthians 13 tells us that love keeps no record of wrongs, and 1 John tells us that God is love, so -- again -- God keeps no record of wrongs. Psalm 103 tells us that when God removes our sin, He takes it as far as the east is from the west. God doesn't keep a record of our sins.

But this fact seems counterintuitive to us. The prevailing view in our culture (even among many Christians) is that God is like Santa Claus: keeping track of everything we do, weighing it all on a scale at the end of our lives to see if we are more good than bad, and determining our eternal fate by that measure. And such a measure requires record-keeping of our sins.

Scripture does not teach this. Not at all. Most other religions do teach this -- or some variation on the concept. When the concept is attached to the Christian gospel, it is a warping of the gospel truth.

God doesn't keep a record of our sins. The fact is, He doesn't need to. His primary concern is our being in a relationship with Him, and one transgression is all it takes to cut off that relationship -- a list of later transgressions is superfluous. And once the relationship is restored through Christ's sacrifice, our transgressions are a moot point.

Let me clarify: the transgressions are a moot point. The damage they cause is not.

This is something I feel like God has been showing me lately. When God looks at me, He doesn't see all the wrong I've done, or continue to do, or will inevitably do in the future. Those sins were covered by The Blood of the Lamb -- Hallelujah, Thine the Glory -- Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves.

What God sees when He looks at me are my wounds.

He sees the dead places that my sinful ways have created, the dried-upness and waste that needs to be hacked out of my soul and burned in the trash heap . . . leaving empty gaps that will ache until enough time has passed for new healthy growth to fill them.

He sees the calloused places that have grown thick and hard, like brick walls I've built to protect things needing to be protected -- and things needing to be destroyed -- walls that now block communication, block connection, block healing.

He sees the tender places, red and raw, that roar with pain when they are touched and hinder progress in my soul.

He sees the broken places, especially those that, like a poorly set broken bone, have "healed themselves" in a distorted fashion.

When God looks at me, a sinner saved by grace, He's not seeing the sins anymore: He's seeing the devastation left in my soul from my sins. And His goal is to restore. To heal.

The thing is, the restoration and healing can hurt and usually does. Even the antibiotic ointment a mama puts on her child's skinned knee can sting. But the greater the healing required, the greater the pain involved -- witness the cancer victim suffering under the effects of the radiation treatment that will save her life. Witness the man who leg bone has to be re-broken so it can be re-set and allowed to heal correctly.

I often misinterpret the pain that comes with the healing as punishment. God's upset about the sin He sees in me still. He's disciplining me, giving me what I deserve for my naughty, selfish, prideful ways. And yes, the Bible tells us not to scorn the discipline the Father gives His children. But discipline is not about punishment -- it's about training. Shaping. Molding. Yes, even healing, I think.

I'm finding that it does matter how I view God's discipline. If I think of it as punishment for my never-ending sins, I am disheartened . . . discouraged . . . even angry at a God who promised forgiveness and seems to be reneging on that promise. But if I think of it as shaping . . . cleansing . . . healing the damage left when my sins were removed, then I am grateful and ready to get on board with His program of discipline.

Cuz Lord knows, I need HEALING. And praise God, I know the Great Healer.

Meditations On an Obscure Verse

No more let sins and sorrows grow
Nor thorns infest the ground.
He comes to make his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.

You don't recognize that Christmas carol? That doesn't surprise me. This is the third verse of "Joy to the World." Unless you've sung the song from a hymnal every Christmas for three or more decades, you may not be familiar with this verse.

We sang this song last Sunday in church, and when we got to this verse, for some reason, I didn't gloss over it as I have in other years. I actually tried to figure out what the heck this is talking about.

No more let sins and sorrows grow . . .

First of all, I had to figure out who the songwriter was talking to here. Is he asking God to do this? Or telling us, the listener to do it? Seeing how two lines later, he speaks of God in the third person ("he"), I'm assuming he's not speaking to God in the second person here; I'm assuming he's speaking to us. YOU stop letting sin and sorrows grow.

Where do sins and sorrows grow? He could be talking about them growing in the world around us -- about dealing with the effects of the fall in our world. But as I wrote earlier, I think we are much too focused on sin in others; we need to focus more on the sin in ourselves. That's where sins and sorrows grow: in our own hearts.

And the songwriter is telling us that we can stop those sins and sorrows from growing. It is within our power. (At least it is now that Christ has come to liberate us from our bondage to those sins and sorrows.)

Nor thorns infest the ground? That seems to be a reference to the curse after the fall (the curse also mentioned in the last line of this verse). "Cursed is the ground because of you . . . it will produce thorns and thistles because of you . . ."  Because you've chosen to reject the authority of God, because you chose to become your own god, God's blessing no longer falls on the work of your hands. Your labors will increase and often be fruitless.

And again -- if I'm correct that the songwriter is speaking to us here -- he is saying that we can stop this now. Thorns don't have to infest our ground. Our strivings in life don't have to be meaningless and fruitless anymore.

Why? How?

He comes to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found.

Wherever the curse is found, wherever its effects are seen -- which is over the whole earth -- the blessings of God can now flow. That blessing that we removed from us after the fall is now back. And why is it back?

Because he -- JESUS -- came to make that happen.

He came to fix what we screwed up at the fall. From the minute he was conceived as a little zygote in Mary's womb, his entire purpose for being in human form was the fixing of that screw-up.

I think the reason this verse jumped out at me this year was because I am quite conscious of the fact that I am allowing certain sins and sorrows to grow in my heart. I know they're wrong. I've weeded them out in the past. But right now, for whatever inexcusable reason, I'm permitting them to be there. And the image of them as a plant is important. Because it reminds me that the weeds of sin and sorrow in my life that I don't pull up are not innocuous. They "take root". They multiply and spread. Like the weeds in my garden and yard, if you don't pull them when they are tiny, those roots grow deep and wide, and their removal now requires major disruption of the lovely ground around them.

But they can be pulled. They are not sovereign in the garden of my heart. All because Jesus came. And His blessings now flow.

And heaven and nature sing!!!!

Walking in the Light

First John is one of the books of the Bible that I have memorized in the past and frequently go back to re-memorize. There's so much in there I love, but it is not always easy to read (or memorize) because of its structure. It's not like Romans, laid out in a court-style argument the Greeks would have praised. It's more circular, more poetic, thick with layers of meaning and depth. 

And he uses a variety of terms to represent the same idea, each of which sheds a different light on the concept. As I read last night, I was pondering the various possible meanings of Light and Darkness in the first chapter . . . and one I hit on flipped a lightswitch for me, pun intended. (I'm writing this out for my own benefit -- and hoping it benefits someone else, too.) Starting in verse 5:

This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light (truth, honesty, openness . . . light reveals everything as it really is); in him there is no darkness at all (no hiding, no lies, no deception, no pretending, no covering anything up . . . He Himself certainly never lies, but more than that, no lies are possible around Him . . . He sees and knows all).

If we claim to have fellowship with him (to be in a relationship with Him . . . a right relationship) and yet walk in the darkness (hide things . . . lie . . . try to deceive Him, or others, or even ourselves . . . pretend to be something we're not . . . pretend that He is something He is not), we lie and do not live out the truth (we don't really have a right relationship with Him, because such things are not compatible with His nature and can't happen with Him).

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light (if we put ourselves out there . . . all of our ugliness, flaws, and failures . . . let it all be seen by the world, by God, and especially by ourselves), we have fellowship with one another (how many relationships with others are messed up by our hiding, pretending, and deception?) and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin (when we stop hiding and denying our sin, we then realize we need someone else to make us clean . . . and we are in the place we need to be for God to apply Jesus' sacrifice to us -- something John expounds on next).

If we claim to be without sin (a sign of walking in the darkness . . . because at the heart of every sin is pride, believing we are more than we are . . . when you say you don't sin, you're deciding what is sin and what is not, making yourself out to be God, something you are not . . . you're lying about who you are and who God is), we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us (the truth of the gospel -- that we are incapable of putting ourselves right with God on our own and need a Savior). If we confess our sins (live in the light, putting everything out there, not denying or hiding or deceiving), he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness (again, the purifying can only happen if we put our sins out there to be purified . . . as long as we are lying to Him and to ourselves, denying our pride and wrongdoing, hiding it, God cannot purify it . . . He doesn't force that purification on us . . . it is an invitation, a gift, an offer to be accepted . . . but only if we want it, and we have to recognize our need before we will want it). 

If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us (reiterating and summing up: if we don't own up to the truth about ourselves, about God, about who we are, about who He is . . . about how we are trying to run our own lives and be our own gods, deciding what is right and wrong for ourselves . . . if we don't face up to reality rather than inventing a reality that we want to live by, with ourselves on the throne . . . we do not understand the message of the gospel and Jesus' sacrifice cannot be applied to us).

God has been teaching me for quite a while that the gospel is not about making us good people -- it's about putting us back in a right relationship with Him, even while we're bad people. And a right relationship with Him is impossible as long as we are deceiving ourselves about who we are and who He is. The first step is accepting the truth. 

God will not . . . He cannot . . . meet us in the darkness -- in the place of deception and lies. We cannot make Him out to be a liar. He cannot lie about Himself to accommodate our lies about Him. There is no darkness in Him.

Is Judas in Heaven?

The other day, my youngest looked up from her homework and asked, "Do you think Judas is in heaven?" That woke me from my Sudoku stupor.

I had a quick response: "probably not". Only because there is a verse in John where Jesus talks about none of his disciples being lost except one. There are other interpretations of that, but as a rule, unless there is scripture that speak clearly otherwise, I try to take the simplest meaning of a verse as being what it means. One disciple was lost, and that would pretty obviously have to be Judas.

But I certainly could be wrong. It isn't that simple of a question. And I had a more important point to make with my daughter, which was that Judas could have gone to heaven.

That will shock some folks. Judas? That terrible sinner? The man who betrayed Jesus? Yep. He could have gone to heaven, even after his betrayal.

First of all, if betraying Christ disqualified one for salvation, there would be no hope for any of humanity. We ALL have betrayed Jesus in some sense. (Writing this post is bringing to mind a song from an old Christian rock group, Petra: "I wonder how it makes you feel when no one seeks your face . . . It must be . . . just like Judas' kiss." Insert awesome guitar riff here. )

This is one of the primary tenets of Christianity that so many people miss: whether or not you go to heaven has nothing to do with the good and bad things you've done in life. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing.

I realize that goes against our human instincts about justice, because we see heaven as a reward and hell as a punishment. But I'm not sure that they are those things . . . at least not in the way we think of reward and punishment. They are simply destinations--destinations that are fitting for the nature of those who end up there. A person who does not have a right relationship with God ends up in a place where they are eternally separated from God (that's hell). A person whose relationship with God has been put right ends up spending eternity with him.

Now, it's true that when someone's relationship with God has been put right, their behavior should change. Not because they are now trying so hard to be good people, but because their very nature has been altered (and is continually being altered), and this will show on the outside. But sanctification (that's the ten-dollar churchy word for that process) is not completed in this lifetime (at least, that's my take on what scripture says about it -- some denominations disagree). A person can be put right with God and still do wrong sometimes. Sometimes very, very wrong.

The actual act of betrayal, I believe, did not put Judas on the short list to hell. It all depended on the state of his heart, his relationship with Christ. It is entirely possible that Judas was quite aware of his sinful state and his separation from God (almost certain, in fact), and of his need for an outside mediator -- a Savior -- to put him right with God. And it's entirely possible that he came to a point of understanding that Jesus was that mediator, that Savior, and believing that what Christ did on Calvary applied to him as well. Yes, he committed suicide -- powerful emotions can drive us to acts of desperation -- but our emotions are affected by a multitude of factors and are not always indicative of the state of our soul.

(Did everyone hear that? Our emotions do not define our reality -- even our spiritual reality. I know some people who need to understand that today.)

So, no, I doubt that Judas is in heaven. But yes, I think there's a chance he could be. There's hope for even the most grievous of sinners.

And yes, this was important enough to devote an entire blog post to the question.

Define Your Audience

On our drive home from a weekend visit in Kansas yesterday (and it was a lo-o-ong drive, I'm tellin' you), I saw a couple huge billboards up next to a church:

"THE KING IS COMING! ARE YOU READY?"

"PRAY AND ASK JESUS TO COME INTO YOUR HEART AND LIVE!"

Now, I essentially agree, of course, with the sentiments of these messages, but as we sped past them down the busy I-35 corridor through Texas, I had to wonder who exactly their intended audience was.

Because the only people who could really make any sense out of this message (beyond the vague idea that here are some Bible-thumpers trying to save my soul) are people who have had enough exposure to church and Bible-teaching to know what King they're talking about and what's involved in being ready for him. They would also need to have some idea of what it means to ask Jesus to come into your heart.

I suppose it's possible that random Unchurched Harry and Mary could be headed down from the Cowboys game, see the sign and say to each other, "King? There's a king coming? I don't know what that means, but I'm sure I'm not ready! Should we pray and ask Jesus to come into our heart, whatever that means? Yeah -- better safe than sorry." But would anyone really think such a "confession of faith" is legit?

No, really, the only people such signs are going to be effective with are those who have grown up in the church and wandered away and are in a place where God is convicting them and wooing them back and this gives the final push at the right moment. Not that there isn't value in that, but I don't know that they're getting a lot of bang for their buck with those billboards.

My friend in NJ used to talk about this being the first post-Christian generation in America.  That rankled me a bit at the time, but I think he's right.  A couple generations ago, someone you were witnessing to might disagree with your assertion that Jesus Is The Answer, but they would at least know the Question. Not so today.

The seeker-focused church model has something going for it in that it assumes a post-Christian generation and starts from there. The traditional church needs to pay attention to that. But the seeker-focus unfortunately can go too far by trying to attract the seeker not with Christ, but with the seeker's own idols. We cease, at that point, to be a Christian church and become simply a spiritual social service club.

We're still looking for a church here in San Antonio.  My prayer is for a church full of genuine worshippers -- not a spiritual social service club.

Lord Over Even that One Thing

My non-Christian friends may be annoyed by this post. Heck, my Christian friends may be annoyed, too. That's okay. I write what's on my heart. And in the words of a passionate Baptist pastor we heard a couple Sundays ago, “Brothers and sisters, I jus' may preach this morning!!!”

Actually, I'm going to let David Platt do the preaching. I was powerfully moved by one of his Secret Church video teachings yesterday and felt like I had to share.  Here's the link (forward to the end, about 65:00), but  I'm also going to give you his words, right here, with my commentary. (All emphases are mine.)

 

Believe in the historical resurrection of Jesus, but don’t stop there; that’s not salvation. Mere intellectual belief in the resurrection of Jesus is not salvation. The demons believe in the resurrection.

[Did you catch that friends? The demons know Jesus rose from the dead. Know it for a fact! They were there!  Satan was, too!]

 

If the devil himself were here tonight and I were to ask him, “Do you believe the Bible is the Word of God?” he would say, “Yes.”

 

If I were to ask him, “Do you believe Jesus is the Son of God?” he’d say, “Yes.”

 

If I were to ask him, “Do you believe He died on the cross and rose again?” he’d say, “Yes.”

 

If I were to ask him, “Do you believe He is the only way to be saved?” he’d say, “Yes.”

 

If I were to ask him, “Will you commit to live a moral life and come to church and get involved in leadership?” he’d say, “Yes.” Because you can believe and do every single one of those things and not be saved.

 

[Christian friends, do we really understand this???]

 

But do you know what the key question is, the question that would change everything in that conversation? If I were to look at the devil and say, “Do you repent of your sin and surrender your life to Jesus as Lord?” and he would say, “Absolutely not.”

 

[That magic word: “Lord”. Master. The one whom I intentionally submit to and allow to run my life. We Americans are so hung up on our “freedom” . . . ]

 

This is why this is so important, because this is exactly what we’ve done today. [We, the church.] We’ve said, “Believe in Jesus, pray a prayer, get involved in church, maybe even lead in the church, live a good life, and you will be saved.” That is a lie. It’s a lie. Scores of professing Christians have believed half of Romans 10:9, and they think they are saved from their sins when they are not. They’re headed to everlasting suffering...some of you...and you think you’re safe. No, believe in the resurrection of Jesus, and surrender to the lordship of Jesus with your life. This is what it means to be saved.

 

[Surrender to his Lordship. Don't “make him” Lord. He's already Lord – of everything. Surrender to his Lordship and stop fighting.

 

I'm convicted today that I and so many of us have things in our lives that we KNOW we are not willing to surrender to his Lordship. And I think it's very important that we consider deeply whether we can truly say we are saved if we are quite clearly refusing to give him control of something that he very obviously has the right to control and wants to change.]  

 

There are scores of people -- scores of people here tonight -- giving lip service to Jesus whose lives are not surrendered to him as the absolute authority, the one who reigns supremely over you and rightfully determines and directs everything in your life, and I want to call you, urge you, to surrender your life to him and confess him as LORD.

 

Is He my Lord, or isn't He?  There's no doing this part-way and getting by, I'm afraid, friends.  It's an all-or-nothing thing.  Here's praying that every one of us identifies that thing (start with one thing) that we're refusing to give Him control of and starts to believe that God can be trusted about that, too.

Repentance

Many years ago, I studied the history and prophets books in the Old Testament in a Bible Study Fellowship class.  I learned that 1 and 2 Chronicles covers the same historical period as 2 Samuel through 2 Kings.  Our teacher told us that the Samuel/Kings account is from the point of view of the historians, while the Chronicles account is from the point of view of the priests -- that is, it gives you more of an idea of God's view of the incidents.  If that's accurate, then it sheds an interesting light on the story of King Manasseh.

Manasseh was the son of Hezekiah, a king who "did what was right in the eyes of the Lord."  He was also the grandfather of Josiah, the king who led a tremendous spiritual revival in Judah.  But Manasseh himself was not a godly king.

In 2 Kings 21, the entire account of Manasseh's reign is about how bad he was.  He not only "did evil in the eyes of the Lord", but he did "much evil in the eyes of the Lord".  It says Manasseh led the people astray "so that they did more evil than the nations the Lord had destroyed before the Israelites." The prophets of the time linked Judah's coming destruction specifically with the actions of Manasseh.  And the account closes with the remark that "Manasseh also shed so much innocent blood that he filled Jerusalem from end to end."  This was one bad dude.  Ain't nothin' good to be said about him.

At least in the Kings account.  But the Chronicles account is different.  There, we have several verses telling us the same story of how Manasseh "did evil in the eyes of the Lord."  But in verse 10, the story changes:

¹⁰ The Lord spoke to Manasseh and his people, but they paid no attention. ¹¹ So the Lord brought against them the army commanders of the king of Assyria, who took Manasseh prisoner, put a hook in his nose, bound him with bronze shackles and took him to Babylon. ¹² In his distress he sought the favor of the Lord his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his ancestors. ¹³ And when he prayed to him, the Lord was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea; so he brought him back to Jerusalem and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord is God.

And the rest of the Chronicles account tells us about this life change in Manasseh.  He rebuilds some of the wall around Jerusalem.  He cleans out the temple, tears down pagan altars he built, and begins sacrifices again to the Lord.  He instructed the people to serve only the Lord.

Interesting, isn't it?  This change in Manasseh's life apparently was too little too late for the nation of Judah.  The historians don't even mention it at all; as far as they were concerned, it was inconsequential.  But in the priestly account -- in the eyes of God -- it's the highlight of the story.  God's goal for Manasseh's life was for the two of them to have a relationship.  And the fact that this ultimately happened was not only worth noting, it was worth celebrating -- despite everything that happened before.

Nope.  It's never too late, friends.  Ask that thief on the cross beside Jesus.

Honesty

Interesting the way the events of life have lined up these days.  An unexplainable act of evil.  A prediction of the end of the world.  The commemoration of a Savior's birth.  The pains and questions we are each dealing with in our own souls -- I have mine, you have yours.  No coincidences here, I'm sure.

Our immediate instinct after an event like Sandy Hook is to determine to take control of the situation so nothing like this ever happens again.  Take away all the guns -- or arm all the teachers.  Lock away all the mentally and emotionally disturbed -- or integrate them better into society so they heal.  Protect the schools like an army base -- or bring the kids home to homeschool.  Nothing ever actually gets done because we can't ever agree on what needs to be done.  Because deep in our hearts, if we're honest with ourselves (which we rarely are), we know there's nothing that we can do to fix this.

For many of us, our personal pains and questions echo the events of the day and take us even deeper.  We see pain within . . . we see brokenness within . . . we even see evil within, if we're honest enough to face up to it (which we rarely are).  And we are determined to take control of the situation so nothing like this ever happens within us again.  Stay away from people -- or embrace people more.  Put up protection walls -- or open up the heart to others.  Seek knowledge and advice -- or forget what I know and go by my instincts.  Discpline myself -- or indulge myself.  Nothing gets fixed within us because we don't really know how we need to be fixed.  And deep down in our hearts, if we're honest with ourselves (which we rarely are), we know that even if we knew how to fix ourselves, we couldn't or wouldn't be able to do it.

At some point, each of us must come to the horrible realization that we are out of the Garden of Eden and there is no way back.

Many of us never allow ourselves to realize that fact fully.  We psyche ourselves up with the idea of a spark of good within us all, ignoring the selfish motives behind all of our good -- rationalizing our selfish motives as self-actualization and healing, the ultimate virtue in modern life -- explaining away the evils prevalent in the world as "freedom" and "choice" and "nature", which must be inherently good.  We refuse to see how broken the world is, because if this is true, it seems to render our lives as a hopeless, meaningless wallow of futility.

Enter into our hopeless wallow . . . a baby.  A baby called "Christ the Lord" -- that is, the Messiah, the promised one, the one sent to save, who is by his nature Master and Sovereign over all and able to move the universe at large and the human heart at small to bring all things together for his glory and for the good of his people.

A Lord.  A holy, just, omnipotent, omniscient, all-loving Lord.  Exactly what we need, if we're honest with ourselves (which we rarely are).

Rahab: Beauty for Ashes

By faith the prostitute Rahab, because she welcomed the spies, was not killed with those who were disobedient.  (Heb 11:31)

I've always felt kind of sorry for Rahab because she is forever saddled with the moniker, "the prostitute".  Talk about not being able to live down your past.  But she's actually a pretty inspiring person.

If you're not familiar with her story, you can find it in Joshua 2.  The Israelites sent spies into Jericho to check things out before attacking, and Rahab hid them and snuck them out of the city.  Her reason?

She tells the spies that everyone is in great fear of the Israelites because they've heard of the miracles God did for them to bring them out of Egypt and into Palestine.  And she, Rahab, is convinced that "the Lord has given you this land . . . for the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on earth below."  Interesting that everyone in Jericho was afraid of this God, but only she switched sides.  Only she had enough of an inkling of who the Lord their God really was to be willing to submit to that God's will.  Nothing but an inkling, perhaps, but it was enough, and she acted on it.

I was really struck by the fact that she referred to him as "the Lord your God."  He's your God.  He's clearly greater than my God, but he's not my God.  However, her name appears in the geneology of Christ as the mother of Boaz, so apparently she made her home with the Israelites after this and, presumably, did the Ruth thing: "Your people will be my people; your God my God."  Interesting enough, three of the four women mentioned in the Matthew 1 geneology (Tamar, Rahab, and Bathsheba) were known for their immorality -- specifically their sexual immorality.

Personally, I find it encouraging that God can take someone from a place of ugly sin and use them for his kingdom.  We don't even have any certain record in the Bible that these women really turned their lives around or anything, although I think most theologians presume that they did.  But maybe they didn't.  God still used them -- how much more can he use a broken me when I do allow him to turn my life around?  But in any case, God intentionally wanted the names of these overtly sinful women included in the human geneology of his Son.  He wanted us to see how he can create beauty from ashes.

That phrase is Biblical, too -- from Isaiah 61, the passage that Jesus read in the temple to announce his purpose for coming to earth:  to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

Folks, we can never dig ourselves into a pit too deep for God to pull us out.

Lemon Appreciation

“Depression over the centuries has often led to spiritual breakthrough, as God turns our wondering about what’s wrong into a search for what’s right."

This quote I recently read gave me pause, as I am one who has struggled with various forms of depression over the years.  I am quite familiar with how God can redeem even the worst things in our lives -- that "in all things, God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8). 

He can even work good in the ugly places we put ourselves in through our own screw-ups, once we repent and put it all in his hands again.  I remember studying the book of Joel many years ago.  God had sent a plague of locusts on the Israelites because of their tremendous sin, but once they repented and returned to him, he said, "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."   A friend of mine at the time was clinging to that phrase with a vengeance . . . and I've clung to it myself over the years.

But the earlier quote came from an article talking about research on the physiological nature of depression and the possibility of eliminating it.  The author considers: "What if a pharmaceutical adjustment provides the temporary fix so that the individual doesn’t get the benefits of depression?"  The BENEFITS of depression.  Wow, there's a loaded idea.  There are BENEFITS to the painful and difficult situations God allows in our lives.  Not just that God redeems them, makes lemons out of lemonade . . . but that the lemonade was the goal in the first place, and lemons were required to get there.  What if we eliminate the hard stuff in our lives and lose everything good they had to offer?

What if advanced technology eases the workload of daily life so much that we no longer get the benefits of hard work?

What if the increased accessibility of instant entertainment on television, laptop, cell phone means we no longer get the benefits of boredom?

What if all-encompassing social connectivity serves to deprive us of the benefits of loneliness?

And now here's the place this takes me that will get some people up in arms:  the "social justice gospel" folks are all about helping the needy and the oppressed -- and by all means, I support that.  Jesus and all of scripture clearly teach this, just as they teach us to comfort the depressed.  But is it possible that we rush to remove the lemons from people's lives when what God really has in mind is for us to help them squeeze those lemons into lemonade?

I mean, the purpose of life here on earth is not ease or comfort or shallow, temporary "happiness"  -- the goal is God.  And God forbid we tear up the rocky path that leads to Him and replace it with a smooth highway that leads to nowhere.

Sometimes, It's So That . . .

Sometimes we need reminders . . .

The sermon yesterday was about Lazarus being raised from the dead.  When Jesus first hears that Lazarus is sick, he says, “This sickness will not end in death.  No, it is for God’s glory, so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” (John 11)

A drama we are working on for the first Sunday in August is based on the blind man Jesus heals in John 9.  When his disciples asked him, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”  Jesus replied, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

Sometimes, when bad things happen to me, it’s because I brought it on myself.  But sometimes not. 

Sometimes, we lose jobs so that the works of God might be displayed in us.

Sometimes, we go through serious health crises so that God’s Son may be glorified through us.

Sometimes, we experience failure and discouragement so that others see God’s glory in how we respond.

Sometimes, evil is allowed to show its ugly face (like, in a movie theater) so that God's face shines more brightly by contrast.

Sometimes, it’s about us.  And sometimes, it’s about so much more.

Sometimes, I just need a reminder.

While We Were Still . . .

It's Easter weekend, and we haven't decorated. We haven't bought candy or basket contents. I haven't even thought about any form of celebrating Easter beyond our church services Sunday morning. Part of me is relieved at being released from the obligation of continuing the little rituals from the girls' childhood, which were great when they were children and which now feel merely obligatory and devoid of real meaning. However, another part of me feels guilty that I haven't replaced those rituals with anything else to commemorate this very important holiday.

Today's Good Friday, the day we remember Christ's death on the cross. His death for me. Hallelujah and amen. But that death wasn't just for sweet little me.

He died for the lady who annoyed me at Target last week.

He died for the kids in school who made me feel ugly and stupid.

He died for the family member for whom nothing I do is good enough.

He died for the woman who told me my opinions meant nothing because I'm rich and have never suffered.

He died for the boy I dated who manipulated my feelings for his own amusement.

He died for the friends to whom I bared my soul who walked away and left me alone again.

He died for my gay friend sitting in jail today.

He died for my atheist friend who can talk circles around my best arguments for the faith.

He died for the corrupt politicians -- on the right and the left -- who have used their power for their own gain.

He died for hateful sign-carrying church members who give the Lord they claim a bad reputation.

And yes, he died for me when I was myself hateful, self-righteous, thoughtless . . . all the things I think I've gotten past and am reminded over and over are still there lurking in my nature, waiting to consume my better self the moment I give them the floor. He didn't die for pretty, cleaned-up me . . . he died for ugly, selfish, despicable me. And all the other ugly, selfish, despicable mes I encounter in the world.

But God demonstrated his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

While we were still sinners. Hallelujah and amen. This is how we know what love is . . .

"He Ain't Through With Me Yet"

Last week, the eldest was scanning Netflix looking for a comedian to watch who was clean and on instant queue. She happened upon a Steve Harvey show described as being performed to a sold-out crowd of "the Christian faithful". Well, hmmm.

I had to google Steve Harvey, because I knew the name but couldn't place him. He's a comedian; he had a sitcom for a while on WB and he looks remarkably like Richard Pryor. He got remarried a few years ago to a lady who he says turned his life around, and he decided he needed to clean up his stage act. So, Bishop T.D. Jakes invited him to get a new start by doing a show one night of "Megafest", some monster Christian event the Bishop runs every year.

Harvey started out the show, after receiving his truly wild applause from the huge audience, by asking them all to pray with him: "Lord God, PLEEEAAASE help Steve not cuss during this show tonight . . . " He explained that he'd been performing for twenty years and hadn't once gotten through a night without cussing, so he was going to need their grace and their prayers. And if he messed up, he asked them to remember the name of the DVD this would be put out as -- "Don't Trip: God Ain't Through With Me Yet."

He cut himself off in mid-sentence more than a few times. He played with some theology I thought was questionable. And he danced around some subjects I'm sure aren't often brought up at many mega-Christian conferences. But, he was seriously funny. He'd obviously grown up in the church and had plenty of material from the experience. And he continually gave God the glory for where he is today and for the work he's still doing to straighten him out.

I loved watching this. I love stories of how we dig ourselves into pits and God pulls us out anyway. I loved watching an audience of Christians -- who are often SO judgmental and sanctimonious -- embrace and carry him through this big night, even when he stumbled very close to the line.

He ended the show with a glorious demonstration of how he (who has introduced many a celebrity on award shows, Showtime at the Apollo, etc.) would introduce Jesus Christ to an audience, had he the blessed opportunity to do so. As I said, it was glorious. He got a rousing, standing ovation, and he was visibly moved to tears when it was all done. I LOVED watching this.