Not Done Yet

“But endurance must do its complete work, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:4 HCSB).

This verse caught my attention recently, perhaps because I was reading it in a different translation than I usually use. I think I’ve typically paid more attention to verses 2-3: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” But it’s verse 4 that points out the end goal.

We don’t endure simply for the sake of learning endurance, but so that we may reach maturity. But here’s the rub: we aren’t the ones who get to determine when maturity has been completed. The Apostle Paul, in one of my favorite verses, states, “I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:6). God not only sets the standard for perfection in our lives, but He’s also the one who will bring it about at the end of time. So long as we live in this fallen world with these broken bodies, we’ll have to keep enduring a variety of trials and struggles. And as we endure in Christ, we’re slowly being conformed to His image.

It’s possible to endure in ways that don’t lead toward maturity. Some people may be quick to tell you all that they are putting up with, but there is little evidence of the fruit of the Spirit growing in their lives. Enduring in your own strength can look like just gritting your teeth and holding on with all your might. But enduring with Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit brings peace in the midst of the storm, humbly trusting that God will sustain you as long as necessary. That kind of calm assurance comes with the maturing process.

Now that I can’t avoid the fact that I’m middle-aged, I generally consider myself to be pretty mature in most areas of life. But I’ve also been realizing areas where I’m still relying on false narratives I learned as a child. Looking back, I can see ways that I have matured over many years, but I know I still have much to learn to be truly mature and complete.

In an episode of the Being Human podcast that I listened to this week, the comment was made that in the Christian life suffering is a feature and not a bug. We tend to think that if we could just reprogram some part of our brains then we wouldn’t have to deal with suffering, as if endurance is simply one lesson we need to learn and then we’re done with it. If our Savior endured suffering, why do we think we should be exempt? We are to follow in His steps, even when it includes suffering (1 Pet. 2:21).

Just as little children need to mature by learning that they can’t always get what they want, we too need to remember that things won’t always go our way or be easy and pleasant. This world can’t satisfy all our desires, but it makes us long for the perfect life that is yet to come. When that day comes, then we’ll be mature enough to enjoy it as God intends.

“As for [the seed that] fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience [endurance]” (Luke 8:14-15).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Run Your Race

Steve Cuss hosts the “Being Human” podcast with Christianity Today, and he’s also recently published The Expectation Gap: The Tiny, Vast Space between Our Beliefs & Experience of God. It is thought-provoking reading. In chapter 7 he addresses some of our faulty assumptions about our progress in our faith. He writes:

“ASSUMPTION: We read these Bible stories multiple times and forget that many of these experiences happened only once to a particular person. We carry the pressure to live out that one story in our lives all the time. REALITY: Seeing these stories as points in time rather than for all time can help us relax into human-sized expectation…

“ASSUMPTION: One week we need to be like Peter. The next week we need to be like Mary. It all depends on what story we are reading that week. REALITY: Peter was pretty much always like Peter. Mary was very Maryesque. You are you, and I am me. We will get further in our faith if we accept our humanity than if we always strive to be someone or something we can never be… Over time, we end up stacking all of these people with all of their unique traits and examples into one fictional super-disciple that none of us will ever be and, frankly, none of them were either.”

You’ve probably experienced something like that. We hear a sermon about Mary and Martha and we think we need to spend all our time sitting at Jesus’s feet in devotion. Yet if we all did that we’d miss a lot of meals! We think we need to be like Peter when he preached fearlessly, yet there were also a number of times he stuck his foot in his mouth and once when he needed a life vest. Each of Jesus’s followers had their ups and downs, and we are no different.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in Discipleship:

“Scripture does not present us with a collection of Christian types to be imitated according to our own choice. Rather, in every passage it proclaims to us the one Jesus Christ. It is him alone whom I ought to hear. He is one and the same everywhere” (Reader’s edition, ch. 8).

I’m reminded of the old song “Dare to Be a Daniel.” While it is true we all need courage to stand firm in our faith, we don’t need to be another Daniel or Noah or Moses. God already used them for His purposes in their own time. (Incidentally, when I was on the last hymnal committee for my denomination, I strongly suggested that Rahab should not be included in the list of possible names to use in that song, as she was in one hymnal.)

What we need is not another Billy Graham. We simply need each believer to faithfully follow our Lord’s leading in whatever path He sets before us: pastor, teacher, missionary, spouse, parent, manager, employee, author, artist, accountant, secretary, mechanic, or any other role you may have.

This subject recurs in my writing occasionally, and that’s probably because I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be someone I’m not. God has to remind me periodically that I am exactly who He made me to be, and He never expects me to be someone else. With that I will be content (at least until the next time I get distracted).

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [from Bible times till now], let us also lay aside every weight [and false assumptions], and sin which clings to closely, and let us [each] run with endurance the race that is set before us [not someone else’s race]” (Heb. 12:1).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Not My Strength

I Prayed and Nothing Changed is a new book by Ste Casey. Part of the book focuses on the Apostle Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:

“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three time I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (vv. 7-9).

Casey makes the point that whatever Paul’s thorn was, it was given to him by God for the purpose of keeping him humble. It seems that the thorn (or “stake”) was specifically suited for Paul’s temperament, to keep him reliant upon God.

When we face trials and difficulties, we can often forget that God is still in control. Satan could not touch Job without God’s permission (Job 1-2), and the same is true for us. We may also forget that God uses all things for the good purpose of conforming us to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:28-29). If those truths were always solidly planted in our hearts, we’d probably find it easier to “give thanks in all circumstances, [remembering that] this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thess. 5:18).

It is hard to accept and remember that our specific trials are those that God knows will best suit His purposes in our lives. I’ve often thought “If I just had that particular problem, I could handle it easily.” That’s probably why I have to deal with different challenges instead. Successfully handling something in my own strength is only going to lead to pride. But having to rely on God to uphold me day by day makes me remember that it is His strength that is perfect, not mine.

Modern culture tells us we aren’t supposed to be weak, dependent, or (heaven forbid!) uncomfortable. But that is not how God’s kingdom operates. Casey writes:

“We learn from Paul that in the kingdom of the crucified and risen Lord, surrender is success, weakness is strength, and humility is greatness. There is no joy without pain, no victory without wounds, and no wealth without loss” (ch. 1).

When we go through seasons, or a lifetime, of struggle in some area, may we cling to the truths that 1) God is good, 2) He is fully aware of what we’re dealing with, 3) He has permitted it in our lives, and 4) He will use it for our good and His glory. Therefore, we can rest in His sustaining power and give thanks.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Is. 41:10).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Who's In?

I’ve been catching up on episodes of The Chosen, and just watched the season 4 episode “The Last Sign.” In that episode in particular, there are various conversations between the disciples as they wonder, “Did you expect things to go this way?” Each one came with different expectations. You can almost feel sorry for Judas as he tries to push things in the way he thinks they are supposed to go, because he’s got a particular idea of what the Messiah is supposed to do. And for all the disciples, the death of Lazarus seemed like an anomaly. And then when Jesus raised him from the dead the question arose why Lazarus raised and not others they had loved and lost. I suspect we all have times when we want to say, “This isn’t what I signed up for!”

In a recent episode of the Being Human podcast, Steve Cuss interviewed Beth Moore. Towards the end he comments on the fact that she felt a strong call to ministry when she was really young, but she never imagined that she would have a ministry of trauma healing and helping those who battle mental illness. Beth says, “We would no more have signed up for the ministries He ends up calling us to than anything. And yet, when all is said and done, these have been the things that mattered most.”

Beth went on to mention the man born blind in John 9. When the disciples ask whose fault it was that the man was blind, Jesus responds, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (v. 3). Perhaps his whole life he’d wondered why he had to deal with this particular form of suffering. Maybe he had sought out healers in the past and been disappointed. But then Jesus came along and healed him—so that God’s work might be displayed in him. It doesn’t take long for the man to start proclaiming that Jesus is a prophet (v. 17).

What things make you wonder “Why is this part of my life?” Maybe it’s a physical problem, an emotional challenge, or relationship issues. It could be just about anything. Have you ever considered how God might use it for His glory? It may be something as simple as your testimony of God’s sustaining you through dark times. You are the only one who can share your particular testimony, and it may help someone who is experiencing trials of their own.

Sometimes in the church we may give people the impression that following Jesus makes life easy and doubt-free. I think we do a disservice to our young people especially when we don’t share the struggles we face at all stages of life, even when we are faithfully serving God. Rebecca Olson wrote in A New Normal: Learning to Thrive in Suffering:

“Your response to a shipwrecked life may draw more of the right kind of attention to God than a lifetime of smooth sailing. Your commitment to honor God even in your doubt and confusion can prove to a watching world that God is worth following... Furthermore, not only does your steadfast commitment to Christ present a compelling witness to unbelievers, but your perspective on your own suffering emboldens other believers (see 2Co 11).”

In my many miles of trail hiking and running, I’ve realized that the narrower the trail is, the more twists, turns, bumps, and roots there are to trip over. Wide trails make it easier to speed along without concerns. Jesus said the wide path is easy, but it leads to destruction. “The gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few” (Matt. 7:14). He never promised an easy life or smooth sailing for those who follow Him. But He did promise that He’d be with us through the hills and valleys and every bump and turn of the trail.

When we come to those times of wondering what in the world God is up to, and we’re tempted to say “This isn’t what I thought I was signing up for,” we can return again and again to the words of Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). We probably brought some misconceptions with us when we decided to follow Jesus, and we’ve all faced detours that took us in directions we weren’t prepared to go. But in the end, there is only One who can redeem all our trials and use them for our eternal good and His glory. Why would we turn away now?

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Rom. 5:3-4).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

What Do You Want?

In John 5 Jesus went by the Pool of Bethesda, where supposedly an angel occasionally stirred the water and the first person to enter the pool would be healed. There He encountered a man who had been an invalid for 38 years. Jesus asks him, “Do you wanted to be healed?” Some translations phrase it, “Do you want to get well?” The man responds, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me” (v. 7). I’ve heard this interpreted as the man making excuses and not really desiring healing. This reading makes Jesus’s question almost a rebuke— “Do you really want to get well, or are you just laying around?”

I’ve seen this interpretation enough times that it’s hard not to read the passage with that tone of voice. But I don’t think that’s how we ought to hear it. For one thing, Jesus immediately healed the man, and apparently didn’t heal anyone else at the pool that day. Jesus knew the what was in the hearts of those He met (John 2:25), so He certainly would have known if the man had hidden motives. Besides which, Jesus didn’t make anyone justify their worthiness to be healed, whether they came looking for help or not. None of us are worthy of God’s intervention in our lives.

Instead, I believe Jesus looked at the man with great compassion and His question was intended to let the man give voice to his helplessness and hopelessness. Who among us wouldn’t lose hope after 38 years in bed? Did he shed a tear each time he missed out on getting into the pool, or had he managed to convince himself it wasn’t such a big deal?

If you’ve dealt with any kind of recurring or unremitting suffering, the last thing you need is some kind of guilt trip like “If you really wanted to be well, you’d find a way” or “If you had enough faith you’d be healed.” That is one of the lies of the prosperity gospel and groups like the Christian Scientists. In contrast, J. C. Ryle wrote:

“Affliction is one of God’s medicines. By it He often teaches lessons which would be learned in no other way. By it He often draws souls away from sin and the world, which would otherwise have perished everlastingly. Health is a great blessing, but sanctified disease is a greater. Prosperity and worldly comfort are what all naturally desire; but losses and crosses are far better for us, if they lead us to Christ. Thousands at the last day, will testify with David, and the nobleman before us, ‘It is good for me that I have been afflicted.’ (Psalms 119:71).”

If we are completely comfortable and content with this life, we are likely not longing for the new life to come. And if we are not eagerly awaiting the blessed hope of Jesus’s return, we probably aren’t focused on living as citizens of His kingdom or sharing the good news that this world is not the goal or end of the story. Affliction can remind us where our priorities ought to be. A few decades of suffering might seem interminable now, but one day we’ll look back and realize that was nothing compared to the “surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord” (Phil. 3:8).

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17-18).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

You're Welcome

I had a conversation this week with someone about the culture in some churches that unintentionally build barriers to keep out anyone who does not fit a particular stereotype. It is often said that Sunday morning is the most segregated time of the week, not just racially, but in many other ways as well. Suits vs. jeans? Ties vs. tattoos? Unfamiliar with the liturgy? Wrong Bible translation? We wouldn’t (I hope!) tell them they can’t come in the building, but we may not go out of our way to make others feel loved and welcomed. I heard somewhere recently that most churches think they are more welcoming than they are perceived by newcomers.

After spending more than 5 hours at the DMV last week and observing the variety of people waiting, I spent some time thinking about that interesting gathering. I kind of wished I could get to know a couple of the people better, but wondered if they would feel as comfortable talking about real life at a church gathering as they did with strangers at the DMV.

In the latest episode of the You’re Not Crazy podcast, Sam Allberry and Ray Ortlund were talking about Romans 14-15. These chapters deal with church conflict and disagreements about what is acceptable. This section of Scripture includes “Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (Rom. 15:7). Sam made the comment, “If I don’t welcome someone God has welcomed, what I’m saying is, I know better than God. I’ve got better standards than Him.”

When Jesus was talking about the final judgment, He indicated that some would be told, “I was a stranger and you did not welcome Me, naked and you did not clothe Me, sick and in prison and you did not visit Me” (Matt. 25:43). How many people even within a local church feel like they have to keep their “true self” hidden in order to be welcome? How many secrets sit in pews on Sunday morning?

In our current culture, I suspect most of us don’t even want to talk about who we’re going to vote for in the general election, much less about what temptations we’re struggling with or the problems in our lives and families. Disagreement on even minor issues seems to lead to alienation, so who dares to talk about things that really matter?

I have my own secrets that are likely to remain secret because of things I’ve heard said by church members in the past. Although I can be the chameleon who blends into a variety of settings, I’m not convinced that some people would still welcome me if they knew all the stuff I keep hidden. Even though I am confident that God welcomes me and loves me, I’m not so sure about the attitudes of some of His people.

When Christian news sources are full of stories about church splits, lawsuits, and coverups, it doesn’t give a lot of confidence that we are “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Eph. 4:3). It’s striking that the verses just before that say that part of walking in a manner worthy of our calling is to exercise “all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love” (vv. 1-2). Welcoming those who are unlike us requires the humility of remembering that we are not the final judge of someone’s salvation or sanctification. God delights in saving people that we may consider unlikely candidates! Even the apostles included a spectrum from fishermen to tax collectors, to persecutors of the church. If we dare to look in the mirror, we may see a bit of Pharisee in our reflection.

How is your church putting out the welcome sign? Would the stranger from the DMV feel comfortable walking in the door? Have you visited a different church recently to remember what it feels like?

“Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight” (Rom. 12:16).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Indescribable

Recently I was reminded of a couple stories I heard in children’s church when I was young. The teacher liked to read from a book of Christianized stories. I don’t recall whether any instruction accompanied the stories, but what I realize now is how deficient they were in explaining the gospel. (As a side note, I shudder to think what kids might remember from my classes when I was on summer ministry teams during college.)

The first story, in brief, was that a fire swept through a barnyard and a mother hen protected her chicks by tucking them under her and sacrificing her life for theirs. The second story was of a drawbridge operator who brought his son to work one day. When he heard the horn of an approaching boat he discovered that his son was out on the gears that would raise the bridge. He had to decide whether to save his son or the people on the boat, and he chose to sacrifice his son.

Aside from the questionable choice to read such stories to children, there were definite misconceptions about how Jesus’s death on the cross came about and how we were saved through that sacrifice. A few corrective lessons come to mind.

1) The cross was no accident or last-minute decision. The Apostle Paul wrote in Ephesians 1:4 that “God chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world.” And in Galatians 4:4-5, “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” Similarly, Peter wrote, “Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories” (1 Pet. 1:10-11). The cross was not “plan B.”

2) Jesus was not an unwilling participant. God knew from before creation that mankind would need rescued from our sinful state, and the Trinity determined the plan before we knew we needed it. Jesus knew the time of His death was coming but still prayed “Thy will be done” (Luke 22:42), and then “for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2).

3) We are not innocent bystanders, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 3:23-24). We weren’t just floating through life minding our own business, but instead were (and are) actively sinning against the God who created us. And though we did nothing to deserve it, God loved us enough to make a way for us. “But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8).

4) And flowing from that verse, Jesus didn’t have to convince God to save us. Sometimes gospel presentations make it sound like Jesus loved us first, and only because Jesus gave His life does God the Father love us. Thomas McCall wrote,

“God is for us. It is not part of God that is for us—as if some divine persons or some divine attributes were opposed to me while others are for me—it is just God who is, in the impassible simplicity of the trinitarian life, radically for us. The death of Jesus does not make it possible for God to love us. The death of Jesus makes it possible for us truly to know God’s love, makes it possible for us to love God.” [See TGC’s bookreview here.]

I heard a quote from Thomas McCabe’s Faith Within Reason (which I have not yet read so I’m not sure if I’d recommend or not) that is worth pondering:

“[God] is just waiting to welcome us with joy and love. Sin doesn’t alter God’s attitude to us; it alters our attitude to him, so that we change him from the God who is simply love and nothing else into this punitive ogre... God never changes his mind about you. He is simply in love with you. What he does again and again is change your mind about him. That is why you are sorry. That is what your forgiveness is.”

It’s so easy for us to misconstrue the gospel because we try to break it down into bite-sized ideas. When we do that, we minimize the glory of the whole arc of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration. We need to remember that our metaphors are just that—tiny, flawed pictures of something magnificent and awe-inspiring.

“How deep the Father’s love for us! How vast beyond all measure, that He should give His only Son to make a wretch His treasure!” (Stuart Townend, 1995).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.