Just Me

When you imagine the Apostle Paul, what sort of man do you see? A bold, fiery evangelist, unconcerned about what people think of him and unafraid of confronting sin? Certainly there are some examples of that in Scripture, such as when he opposed Peter for acting hypocritically (Gal. 2:11-14), and when Elymas the magician was deceiving the proconsul (Acts 13:6-12). However, there are other verses that paint a different picture:

“And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3).

“I, Paul, myself entreat you, by the meekness and gentleness of Christ—I who am humble when face to face with you, but bold toward you when I am away!” (2 Cor. 10:1).

“[Pray] also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak” (Eph. 6:19-20).

If those were the only descriptions you had of Paul, you might imagine him as a rather timid fellow, perhaps the way Timothy is often pictured. It can be easy to overlook a few verses when they don’t fit with our preconceived ideas. MacLaren’s Exposition of Acts 7 says this about Paul’s conversion experience:

“An overwhelming conviction flooded his soul that He whom he had taken to be an impostor, richly deserving the Cross that He endured, was living in glory, and was revealing Himself to Saul then and there. That truth crumbled his whole past into nothing; and he stood there trembling and astonished, like a man the ruins of whose house have fallen about his ears.”

No doubt Paul ended up questioning all that he thought was true, including how he needed to relate to these Christians he had despised. What he had previously considered as strengths were now his weaknesses (Phil 3:3-11).

Even those of us who have grown up in church may trust in the wrong things. We may rely on our natural abilities rather than God’s strength. Or we may assume that we are supposed to fit a particular stereotype if we are “good Christians” fulfilling God’s commands to evangelize and make disciples. If that were the case, God sure wasted a lot of creativity on humanity.

As some have said, we are uniquely created on purpose and for a purpose. There are a lot of people in the world and in church that I don’t understand, and I can’t imagine what it’s like to live their lives. They are probably just as baffled by me. We have different personalities, interests, abilities, and communication styles. God can use all of those things for His purposes if we submit them to His lordship. If we don’t, they are likely to trip us up and may cause us to glorify ourselves rather than God.

I’m probably more like Timothy than Paul, but mostly I’m just me, as God created me, redeemed me, and is sanctifying me. And that’s okay.

“If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness” (2 Cor. 11:30).

© 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.

In Our Weakness

In a recent podcast from The Gospel Coalition, Ray Ortlund pointed out that in Romans 8:26, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness” it is not plural, weaknesses, but “in our weakness.” He says, “Weakness is not one more experience alongside all these other experiences. Weakness is the foundation or platform on which we have all experiences. We have never known, for one nanosecond in this life, a moment of non-weakness”

We could put it this way: our experiences of particular weaknesses are the things that remind us of our inherent weakness and neediness as fallen creatures, and they should also remind us that God is the one who carries us through. As the Apostle Paul wrote in a verse I return to often, “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” (2 Cor. 12:9).

This kind of thinking is antithetical to our Western autonomous culture. Children and youth are taught from an early age that they should be self-confident and self-directed, everyone is a winner, follow your heart, feeling bad means something needs to be fixed or changed. Affirmation is the mantra of the day, even if it means affirming them in life-changing decisions and relationships that we know are anti-biblical.

In another podcast that I’ve come across, The Care Ministry, guest Monica Coleman refers to being called by God to break the silences and stigma about those areas of mental health that are so often kept silent even in the church. In many ways, I feel that describes my own calling. I got tired of trying to hide depression and pretending that everything is “fine and dandy.” Life is hard, and mental illness is one particular weakness that many people wrestle with in silence. It is a constant reminder that we’re not the strong, self-assured people that society, and often the church, says we’re supposed to be.

And since I need all the encouraging words I can find, in another of my favorite podcasts from Immanuel Nashville, Barnabas Piper preached on Mark 9 and the man whose son was suffering from an unclean spirit. This was the father who proclaimed, “I believe, help my unbelief!” Piper notes that faith and doubt can coexist. “Doubts are uncomfortable, especially if you have grown up in a church context… ‘I believe’ is a profession of faith, and ‘help my unbelief’ is the prayer of faith… Faith is not measured in certainty, but by trusting Jesus with our needs.”

We are all weak and needy people. Pretending we have no doubts or struggles not only keeps us from seeking strength and help from God, but also isolates us from one another in our many times of need. Someone recently made a comment to me, and perhaps I misunderstood their intent, but it sounded like they were saying that people put on a happy face at church because that’s how they want to feel and what they think will encourage other people. But for those who are aware of their own weakness and trials, that is just one more barrier to connecting with others in a meaningful way.

I feel like a hypocrite when I plaster on a smile and join in singing songs that imply that God heals every weakness and wound in this lifetime. I know that in the resurrection He will do so, but as long as we live in this broken world we’ll have to wrestle with sin, doubt, weakness, and sorrow. To pretend that we are above such things is to join the Pharisees and to lay heavy burdens on the shoulders of those who don’t measure up (Matt. 23:4). Instead, let us acknowledge our weakness and “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Gal. 6:2-3).

© 2023 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.

Strong and Weak

There’s a poem from Dietrich Bonhoeffer that I often remember, “Who Am I?” (You can read the whole poem here.) The gist of it is the question of whether he is the confident public persona he projects or the “contemptible woebegone weakling” that he experiences internally, or both at the same time. That’s probably a question we all face at times. (At least, I hope I’m not the only one!) We can be pretty good at portraying confidence and competence in certain areas of life while simultaneously feeling like idiots for our failures and weakness in other areas.

I’ve probably written before that pride and shame are two sides of the same coin. We all crave approval and affirmation, and we generally try to hide anything that makes us look bad. But then we read the words of the Apostle Paul in his letters to the Corinthian believers. He talks about boasting in the wrong things (2 Cor. 10:12-18), God using the weak and foolish to shame the wise (1 Cor. 1:26-31), and he concludes, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9b).

Throughout his letters, Paul refers to the strength that comes from God. He uses multiple Greek words that are sometimes translated establish or commit or empower, depending on what Bible translation you prefer. Here are just a few of his statements (Strong’s numbers noted):

• “[I pray] that according to the riches of His glory He may grant you to be strengthened [2901] with power through His Spirit in your inner being” (Eph. 3:16).
• “Finally, be strong [1743] in the Lord and in the strength [2904] of His might” (Eph. 6:10).
• “I can do all things through Him who strengthens [1743] me” (Phil. 4:13).
• “Being strengthened [1412] with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy” (Col. 1:11).
• “Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established [950] in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving” (Col. 2:6-7).

Bonhoeffer makes the comment in a letter to Eberhard Bethge of July 16, 1944,

“Matt. 8:17 makes it quite clear that Christ helps us not by virtue of his omnipotence but rather by virtue of his weakness and suffering! This is the crucial distinction between Christianity and all religions… The Bible directs people toward the powerlessness and the suffering of God; only the suffering God can help.”

Our existence, our salvation, our sanctification, and our service are not by our own strength and abilities, but because of Christ alone. We can boast in our weakness because that is where His strength is revealed (2 Cor. 12:9a).

For me personally, it’s okay that I’m an accountant who’s bad at mental math. It’s okay that social interactions create anxiety and exhaustion. Sleepless nights should be a reminder that I’m not the one in control—God is (though that still doesn’t help me to sleep better). I’ve had a lot of reminders of my weakness lately and I, like many of us, need to remember God’s strength and sufficiency.

“Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word” (2 Thess. 2:16-17).

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Remember This

In a recent episode of the Russell Moore podcast he interviewed Scott Sauls, who shared about a time he was out for a walk and heard himself say aloud, “You suck.” As he reflected on what had led to that declaration, he realized he was remembering something he had done in high school that hurt a friend, and for which he had apologized repeatedly. His experience of self-condemnation for past actions is probably one that many of us can relate to.

The Apostle Paul gives us an interesting panorama of human experience. On one hand he makes statements like this:

“I thank Him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because He judged me faithful, appointing me to His service, though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy… Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost” (1 Tim. 1:12-13, 15).

But he also says:

“…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13-14).

But what exactly is it he says he is forgetting? The first part of Philippians 3 is the recitation of his Jewish “pedigree” as one who can claim “as to righteousness under the law [I was] blameless” (v. 6). It was stuff that most of the people who knew him would consider admirable. When you compare Philippians with 1 Timothy, Paul doesn’t really seem to be saying, “Just forget everything about your past and live in the present.” I’m coming to understand it more as “Remember your past but keep it in proper perspective.” That fits better with his statements in Ephesians:

“Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh… remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promised, having no hope and without God in the world” (Eph. 2:11-12).

When we consider the past, there are several things we need to remember:

1) Apart from Christ, any good that we have done or accomplishments we’ve achieved are likely to be tied to pride and self-righteousness. Therefore we need to remember that our good works cannot save us and are in fact nothing compared to Christ’s perfection.

2) If we are now Christians, any sin that we have committed (past or present) is forgiven and covered by Jesus’ death on our behalf. Therefore we can remember that we are loved, accepted, and free from condemnation.

3) God uses our sin and weakness to remind us of our need for Him. He uses all things for the good of conforming us to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:28-29), and in our weakness His grace becomes evident so that He gets the glory and not us (2 Cor. 12:9).

I often remind myself of Romans 8:1: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” However, I don’t always remember that it follows after Paul’s description in Romans 7 of the struggle:

“So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from his body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin” (7:21-25).

Theologians disagree as to whether this is referring to one’s experience before conversion or after conversion. (I agree with John Piper that it is post-conversion.) However, I think the greater point is that only in Christ can we find freedom from condemnation. It takes a lifetime of learning and growth to “put on the new self” (Eph. 4:24) and to “walk as children of light” (Eph. 5:8). In the meantime, shame and guilt will continue to rear up in us—from painful memories, from the influence of the world, or from the accusations of the devil. When they do, we can cling to the truth that our sins are forgiven and God still loves us. “For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more” (Heb. 8:12 quoted from Jer. 31:34). His love will never fail.

“My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness” (Lam. 3:20-23).

© 2022 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Broken

“Trust Him in all this brokenness. It is a gift” (Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way).

I’m tired of brokenness.
I’m tired of a broken world,
  culture,
    system.
I’m tired of broken people
  breaking people,
Broken by sin,
  sickness,
    death.
I’m tired of being broken.
I don’t want to be weak,
  needy,
    dependent.
I’m tired of the pangs of sorrow,
  shame,
    anger,
      pain.
I want to feel strong,
  capable,
    prepared.
But You love the broken,
  the weak,
    the needy,
      the anxious.
You bind up the broken,
  use the humble,
    save the sinful.
Unless the ground
  is broken
    it cannot accept the seed.
Unless the grain of wheat
  is broken
    it cannot multiply.
Unless the grains
  are broken
    there is no bread.
Unless the grapes
  are crushed
    there is no wine.
Unless the Lord
  was broken
    there is no Savior.
Unless His blood
  was spilled out
    there is no redemption.
Unless the proud,
  self-sufficient,
    sinful
      are broken
        there is no mercy.
Broken is the gift
  we didn’t ask for,
    didn’t want,
      desperately need.
Broken is where
  He meets us,
    calls us,
      saves us.
Broken is where
  we find Him,
    see Him,
      cling to Him.
In the Broken One
  is where we find life,
    breath,
      hope,
        peace.
In the Broken One
  is where we live,
    and move,
      and have our being.

“For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite” (Isaiah 57:15 ESV).



© 2020 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

In Dependence

I don’t know how many people use the M’Cheyne Bible Reading Plan. This is the first year I’ve used it in a long time. In the readings for March 16 I noticed something curious. In John 6:63 Jesus said, “It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all” (ESV). Then in Galatians 2 Paul wrote that those “who seemed influential added nothing to me. On the contrary… He who worked through Peter for his apostolic ministry to the circumcised worked also through me for mine to the Gentiles” (6-8). Wait a second—who were Peter and Paul? The ESV Study Bible describes Peter as a “middle-class fisherman who very likely knew Greek from his youth” (2402). Paul (Saul) was a Jew educated under Gamaliel (Acts 22:3). So the fisherman was sent with the gospel to the Jews and the educated Jew was sent to the Gentiles. It appears that God intentionally sent them outside their comfort zones so that they would have to rely on Him and not on their own abilities.

Paul was eager to set aside his accomplishments as zealous Jew— “But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ” (Philippians 3:7). Though his education did aid him in his teaching and writing, he learned that human strength and ingenuity wouldn’t accomplish the ministry he was given. “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness” (2 Corinthians 11:30). Peter proclaimed that “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us to His own glory and excellence” (2 Peter 1:3). All that he needed came from God, not from his own efforts.

The same is true for us. We tend to think that we are saved by grace but then everything else is up to us. Watchman Nee, though not the best of theologians, was correct in writing, “The Christian life from start to finish is based upon this principle of utter dependence upon the Lord Jesus.” As soon as we rely on ourselves for anything, we are on thin ice.

J. C. Ryle wrote in The Cross: Crucified with Christ, and Christ Alive in Me:

“…no minister, no layman—no one man could ever be named who did so many good works as the apostle Paul. But did he ever glory in them as if they were in the least meritorious and could save his soul? Never! Never for one moment!

“…Who is there among the readers of this book that trusts in his church membership for salvation? Who values himself on his baptism, his attendance at the Lord’s Table, his church attendance on Sundays, or his daily services during the week and says to himself, ‘What do I lack?’ Learn today that you are not like Paul. Your Christianity is not the Christianity of the New Testament. Paul would not glory in anything but the cross. Neither should you…

“Work for God and Christ with heart and soul and mind and strength, but never dream for a second of placing confidence in any work of your own” (ch. 1).

Everything that reveals our weakness is an opportunity to remember God’s perfect strength. Even our abilities and strengths will come to an end sooner or later, but His never will. That way God is the One to get all the glory, which is the way it’s supposed to be.

“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in Me” (John 15:4).

© 2020 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

More Than Anything

Reading in the Old Testament recently I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. In 2 Samuel 9, King David asks, “Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake?” (9:1 ESV). He is introduced to Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth, who is crippled in both feet. Mephibosheth is invited into the palace and dines at the king’s table for the rest of his life. In contrast, in the next chapter David sends condolences to Hanun when his father, the king of the Ammonites, dies. Hanun’s response is to disgrace the messengers, which leads to a massive battle. If he had received the messengers graciously, he could have avoided a war.

It seems to me that in both these chapters King David was a model of God. He extends grace to two different men—one accepts it and becomes like a member of the family; the other person rejects it and brings condemnation on himself. Likewise God has extended the offer of forgiveness and adoption to all, but we can choose whether or not to accept it. “Whoever believes in Him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God” (John 3:17). “God sent forth His Son… so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Galatians 4:4-5).

Mephibosheth is one of my favorite characters in the Old Testament. He knew he had nothing to offer the king. He could barely even get around. He was simply grateful to be honored by David. After a misunderstanding when David temporarily fled the palace and Mephibosheth got left behind, Mephibosheth turns down an offer of land, because all he cares about is that his king has come home (2 Sam. 19:24-30). All he wants is to dwell with the king who brought him into his family.

I think we could all learn from Mephibosheth. It’s tempting to desire the blessings more than we desire God. We feel entitled to certain benefits, and when suffering comes we join Job in trying to argue our case before God (Job 13:3 et al). We aren’t content to eat at the King’s table and enjoy being part of His family. God gives us Himself and we want more! (Check out Natalie Grant’s song “More Than Anything.”) We may be poor witnesses for the Gospel if we seek the gifts more than the Giver. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:4-5). It is His mercy that matters, not our blessings.

If Christianity were inextricably linked to health, wealth, and other visible blessings, we wouldn’t have any trouble convincing people to join up. But what God offers us is reconciliation with Him and adoption into His family for eternity. That may not sound too appealing to many people. Who needs that when they can have all that they want without having to read the Bible or obey God?

May we learn the contentment of having peace with God. In that way our lives can reflect the glory of the God who saved us in our sin and weakness.

“Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God, without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life” (Philippians 2:14-16a).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Weary and Burdened

I read this last night in The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge, and it spoke to where I feel myself to be right now.

“‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,’ says Jesus. Most of us think of spiritual progress as requiring us to do more, even as our heart cries out to us to lay our burdens down. We renew our efforts at Bible study, Scripture memory, and Christian service, fearing that we will be discovered in our weakness and need… So many of our contemporary churches operate on this same system of guilt. When our people are crying out for communion and rest, we ask them to teach another Sunday school class. When they falter under the load, we admonish them with Scripture on serving others. One wonders what would happen if all activity motivated by this type of guilt were to cease for six months. Much of organized Christianity would collapse even as the Pharisees saw happen to their own religious system” (168-170).

There’s a lot of truth to that. I wonder if many of us (individually and collectively) are simply trying to do too much? We see the struggles of our churches and ministries and we feel a vague sense of guilt about not being able to do all that we believe God has called us to do—from the “little” things like staffing the nursery to the bigger picture of evangelism, discipleship, etc. If it’s true that in many churches 10% of the people do 90% of the work, those 10% can easily burn themselves out trying to keep things going.

If Jesus has promised rest to those who come to Him, why does rest feel like a foreign concept? Why is exhaustion so close at hand? Why does guilt seem to be such a big motivator? Somehow I think we’ve imagined that the Apostle Paul’s description of his ministry is supposed to be ours as well: “by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger” (2 Corinthians 6:4-5; see also 11:25-29). I don’t know how Paul did it, but I don’t have the physical, mental, or emotional stamina to do even a fraction of what he did.

Today I read this in an article from John Piper:

“These illnesses may come, and we still win. The sickness may come, senility may come, and we still win. It is possible for the unhealthy to win the fight against unbelief because the fight is against lost hope, lost faith, not against lost health… The fight is a fight of faith. It’s not a fight to get out of bed; it’s a fight to rest in God. It’s not a fight to keep all the powers of youth, but to trust in the power of God. The race is run against doubt in God’s goodness and love for us. It’s a fight to stay satisfied in God despite the broken hips and lost sight and failed memory and inexplicable fatigue… The finishing line is crossed in the end not by a burst of human energy, but by collapsing into the arms of God. And by all means, let those of us who have any energy left remember that we are called upon to, as Paul says, ‘encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all’ (1 Thessalonians 5:14).”

So for all of us who feel weary and burdened by ministry and by life, I offer the encouragement that Jesus offered, “Come to Me and rest.” He didn’t say, “Come on, you can do five more tasks today, share the Gospel with one person every day, attend three more church events this week, and be the perfect parent, pastor, and teacher!” Jesus understands weariness. After all, He was the one who fell asleep in a boat in the midst of a storm.

It’s okay that “even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted” (Isaiah 40:30), because “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary” (40:28). When we collapse into bed tonight, God is still in control. May we find rest in His embrace.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth… He who keeps you will not slumber… The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore” (Psalm 121:2, 3, 8 ESV).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

In the Desert

Recently I’ve been watching my DVDs of Star Trek: The Next Generation. In one episode, Data meets Spock and comments on the fact that Spock has spent his life trying to suppress his human side and the emotions that go with that, while Data has been trying to become more human and wishes to experience emotions. I’d have to say I would usually agree with Spock on this one. In my experience, emotions most often represent a loss of control and are usually undesirable. That’s one of the reasons that I find depression hard to cope with. I don’t like feeling out of control, like I could start crying at all kinds of inconvenient times.

I just came across these comments in A Praying Life, by Paul E. Miller (57-58):

“In fact, God wanted me depressed about myself and encouraged about his Son. The gospel uses my weakness as the door to God’s grace. That is how grace works... John Landsburg [Landsberg], a sixteenth-century Catholic monk, summarized this well in his classic A Letter from Jesus Christ....

‘...In fact I don’t want you to rely on your own strength and abilities and plans, but to distrust them and to distrust yourself; and to trust me and no one and nothing else. As long as you rely entirely on yourself, you are bound to come to grief. You still have a most important lesson to learn: your own strength will no more help you to stand upright than propping yourself on a broken reed. You must not despair of me. You may hope and trust in me absolutely. My mercy is infinite.’”

It is an uncomfortable truth that God doesn’t want us to be stronger, but weaker. He doesn’t need us strong enough to do His work, but weak enough to let Him do His work for us and through us. I heard a radio spot on Judges 6 where Gideon is told, “Go in the strength you have,” not in the strength he didn’t have. In the next chapter, God intentionally weakened the army down to 300 men so that He alone would get the credit. In 2 Corinthians 11:30 and 12:9-10, Paul boasts in his own weaknesses because they display God’s strength.

Our culture values the strong, independent, assertive, and self-controlled. God values the poor, meek, thirsty, and sorrowful who know they need His strength (Matthew 5:3-12). The strong don’t really need God. The weak know they can’t live without Him.

Even though I’ve contended with depression most of my life, I hate when it flairs up and leaves me feeling weak and vulnerable. My pride kicks in and says, “You aren’t supposed to feel this way. You should be able to hold it together. You can’t let others know you still have this struggle.” This is an arid place to dwell.

Miller draws on the many stories of the desert in Scripture:

“The hardest part of being in the desert is that there is no way out. You don’t know when it will end. There is no relief in sight... The still, dry air of the desert brings the sense of helplessness that is so crucial to the spirit of prayer. You come face-to-face with your inability to live, to have joy, to do anything of lasting worth... The desert becomes a window to the heart of God. He finally gets your attention because he’s the only game in town... The best gift of the desert is God’s presence” (184-185).

Life can often feel like a desert—empty, lonely, fruitless. But God takes pleasure in making the desert bloom, bringing life to lifelessness. That is a reason for hope and perseverance.

“The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing” (Isaiah 35:1-2 ESV).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Broken People

I was skimming through the recent issue of Christianity Today and noticed this quote: “Broken people can’t serve broken people.” They never explained what was meant by that, and it did not make sense in the context of an article about prison ministry. I don’t know what the person intended, but my immediate reaction was “What?! How is that scriptural?” 

In contrast, Phillip Holmes wrote, “I am the man I am today because I have been broken down to my weakest state. God doesn’t use what he cannot break (Proverbs 29:1), and there is no one too firm he cannot shake” (http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/broken-but-grateful).

The Apostle Paul put it this way, “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 times 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” (2 Corinthians 12:7-9 ESV).

Those who have not been broken do not need to rely on God’s strength. Those who don’t know that they are weak can’t really identify with or minister to the rest of us. Breaking is necessary to make us usable by God. David said, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). God delights in people who have come to the end of themselves and are wholly submitted to His will. His light shines through our broken places.

“But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong… so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Corinthians 1:27, 29).

© 2016 Dawn Rutan.

Who Gets the Glory?

I’ve spent several days in Ephesians 1 lately, and I noticed that Paul makes frequent references to God’s glory:

• 6- “…to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved” (ESV).
• 12- “…so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of His glory.”
• 14- “…who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of His glory.”
• 18- “…what are the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints.”

Since God’s glory is the reason for our election, sanctification, and future hope, how then do we live “to the praise of His glory”? In a sermon on Ephesians 1, John Piper commented “God adopted us in our unworthiness to make His glory look great.” God’s glory is displayed in the grace and mercy that He extends to unworthy people.

I wonder if we in the church have forgotten what it is that glorifies God the most? We look for numerical growth, relational depth, pursuit of spiritual disciplines, etc. All of those are good things that can glorify God, but are they the primary thing? Perhaps we need to be looking for people who are weak enough and desperate enough to say “I can’t do this on my own; only Christ can do it in me.” Maybe God’s glory is better seen in our humility and weakness than in our strength and progress. We are small, weak, dependent, and faltering, but His strength is perfect.

Jesus said, “Apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Paul was told, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Paul also wrote, “For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25). Why is it then that we are so reluctant to expose our weakness, either individually or as a body? Is God glorified more by the perfect record of a person who is no longer tempted in a particular way, or by one who falls periodically but is learning to depend on God for grace and mercy? Jesus said, “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7).

And in the Body, why do we compare church size and programs as a measure of our worth? Is God not glorified more by a small group of people who are relying on Him desperately than by a large group who can get along without His intervention? I’m reminded of Gideon and the army that God pared down to 300 warriors “lest Israel boast over Me, saying ‘My own hand has saved me’” (Judges 7:2).

Pride can trip us up every time. As individuals we want to appear like we have it all together, like we’ve overcome sin and have no faith struggles. As churches we think that growing numbers and visible activities are signs of vitality. But what do we really have to boast about? God is the One who saved us, and He’s the One who causes us to grow in faith. We were dead, but He made us alive in Christ (Ephesians 2:5). When our faith fails, He remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13).

 “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Corinthians 12:9b).

© 2016 Dawn Rutan. 

Walking in the Light

In our prayer meeting Wednesday, we meditated on several Scriptures including Philippians 1:9-11: “And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.”

As I was thinking about these verses later, I was reminded particularly of the consequences of sin in positions of ministry leadership. The more public the ministry, the more we have to be aware that “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). And “we are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us...” (2 Corinthians 5:20). What we do can have positive or negative consequences that reach far beyond our own houses or families.

Being pure and blameless is all too often a facade worn by Christians, and when the facade is broken, it tends to make national news. However, I believe our Christian witness needs to be more open and honest than it usually is. If everyone else appears to have it all together, that can be a discouragement to those of us who are regularly falling apart. The Apostle John wrote, “If we say we have fellowship with Him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth” (1 John 1:6). I find it interesting how easily we can dismiss practicing truth when it comes to being honest with one another even within the church and small groups. We may not feel like we’re walking in darkness because we do acknowledge our sin and brokenness to ourselves and to God. But we never confess it to one another, and thereby we give false impressions and walk in darkness.

Scripturally, I’m not sure there is much basis for keeping things hidden, aside from Proverbs about not revealing someone else’s secrets. One day all secrets will be revealed. But I also know that it can be detrimental in certain circumstances to say anything that might be used against you for employment or legal reasons. It takes a great deal of wisdom and discernment to know what to say to whom. And going back to the Philippians verses, I believe we reflect God’s love as we learn to trust others with some of the broken pieces of our souls. I’ve been convicted about that myself just recently when I failed to pursue some wide open doors because I wasn’t prepared to speak the truth about my own story.

I know that I don’t want to feel pressured to keep up a “good Christian” performance so I can live up to someone’s expectations. That is guaranteed to result in failure eventually. We all need wisdom in how to practice walking in the light of truth, first with a few trusted individuals, and gradually enlarging the circle. There will always be people outside the circle, and there will always be some things that can’t be shared very widely because they involve other people. But I do want my love to abound more and more as with discernment I walk in the truth. Our weakness can only be used for God’s glory to the extent that we let it be seen.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7).

© 2015 by Dawn Rutan.

Limping Together

I recently shared this quote on Facebook: “Our calling, however, is often shaped as much by our weaknesses as by our strengths. We tend to run with our strengths and avoid those people and tasks that expose our weaknesses. But the story of God is not a saga of human potential; it is the revelation of the kindness and passion of the Father who seeks and redeems sinners. Therefore, our strengths may help us with certain tasks and opportunities, but it is our frailty and sin that make known the glory of God’s story” (Dan Allender, Leading with a Limp, 149-150).

One of the points that Allender makes is that leaders tend to hide their weaknesses in order to project a certain image, but weaknesses have a way of coming out. Though he doesn’t say this directly, I’ve observed that times of organizational transition reveal the weaknesses of all those in leadership more so than their strengths. When the organization is operating normally, everyone plays to their strengths and keeps their weaknesses hidden behind the facade of competency. But when change comes, many people are forced out of their comfort zones. Pride and a sense of entitlement emerge. Fear of loss and distrust of management creep out of the woodwork. The mistakes that have been made become more obvious and get rehashed. Decisions that were previously put off reach crisis mode.

Allender writes: “What is most obvious to others are our most common ways of failing to love—the unique style that rises to the surface during times of shame, hurt, fear, or criticism” (174). As with the rest of life, it’s often easier to see and criticize the faults of others than to deal with our own (Matthew 7:3-5).

Two questions come to mind:

1) Are we going to own up to our weaknesses as leaders, churches, and organizations? The answer to that question assumes that we actually know and understand what those weaknesses are. The discovery process may be a painful one. The criticism that the church is full of hypocrites comes because we aren’t willing to live authentically in our weakness.

2) Once the time of transition passes, are we each going to go back behind the facade of strength or will we embrace our weaknesses as a path for God’s strength to be revealed? Trusting, loving relationships require ongoing honesty. Working together effectively as the Body of Christ depends on knowing one another’s strengths and weaknesses.

The Apostle Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 1:26-27 (ESV): “For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” The standard of the world is to focus on strengths, regardless of what God may want to do through our weaknesses. “God, however, loves to use our strengths to get us into situations where our weaknesses are exposed and used for his glory” (187). God doesn’t intend for us to live entirely in our own strength, because that doesn’t bring Him glory.

Our weakness is the playing field for His strength to be revealed.

“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. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

© 2015 Dawn Rutan

Serving in Weakness

In Souvenirs of Solitude, Brennan Manning quotes Father Michael Buckley on the qualifications of a priest: “Is this man weak enough to be a priest? …Is this man deficient enough so that he can’t ward off significant suffering from his life, so that he lives with a certain amount of failure, so that he feels what it is to be an average man?” Manning follows up with the comment, “I believe that this applies to every follower of Christ because we are a ‘priesthood of all believers’ (see 1 Peter 2:9). It is in this deficiency, in this interior lack, in this weakness, maintains the book of Hebrews, that the efficacy of the ministry and priesthood of Christ lies.”

Hebrews 4:15 tells us “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (ESV). How amazingly incomprehensible that the same God who created the universe came to earth and lived in weakness, inability, and suffering. Philippians 2:7 says He “made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” In His obedience to the Father, He chose not to exercise the powers of deity in many circumstances. In the temptation in the wilderness, Satan suggested that Jesus could short-circuit the process of salvation by using His power rather than submitting to weakness.

You’ve probably heard the question—could God create a rock so large that He couldn’t move it? This is called the omnipotence paradox because it is a logically impossible question. Supposedly, no matter how you answer, it proves that God is not omnipotent. However, I would assert that God already did create a rock so large He couldn’t move it. When Jesus was dead and in the tomb, He was physically incapable of moving the stone away from the entrance. Just as He wouldn’t come down from the cross (Matthew 27:40-42), He wasn’t going to do anything to compromise the salvation He was offering. If the stone had been moved away prior to Sunday morning, the evidence of His resurrection would have remained highly questionable.

Jesus chose weakness in order to fulfill His ministry. That’s completely foreign to most of us. Our work is determined by our competency in a particular field. Promotions are given to those to surpass their peers. Education and training are seen as being of paramount importance. Even when it comes to positions within the church, we look for who is most qualified, and people are likely to say, “I can’t do that. I don’t have the abilities.” While there are varying spiritual gifts within the Body, some folks are reluctant to try anything new and may have no idea how God has gifted them.

I think we tend to apply the same logic to the spiritual disciplines. “I can’t fast… I can’t pray… I can’t study the Bible… I can’t memorize Scripture…” Have you ever tried? The funny thing is that God delights in our weakness because He can then be proven strong.

• “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Romans 8:26). If the Spirit Himself if praying for us, what excuse do we have to not pray?
• "Think over what I say, for the Lord will give you understanding in everything” (2 Timothy 2:6). If the Lord is the One who gives understanding, what excuse do we have to not study the Bible?
• But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you” (John 14:26). If the Holy Spirit serves as our memory and prompter, what excuse do we have to not memorize Scripture?

If all we say is “I can’t,” we’re limiting what God can do in and through us. However, if we say “I can’t, but You can,” we open the door for God to glorify Himself by revealing His strength in our weakness. The question is not “Do I have the ability to do this?” but “How can God work through me?”

“For He was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God. For we also are weak in Him, but in dealing with you we will live with Him by the power of God” (2 Corinthians 13:4).

Desperate for God

I recently read this quote from Augustine in regards to his struggle with sin:

“How sweet all at once it was for me to be rid of those fruitless joys which I had once feared to lose…! You drove them from me, you who are the true, the sovereign joy. You drove them from me and took their place, you who are sweeter than all pleasure, though not to flesh and blood, you who outshine all light, yet are hidden deeper than any secret in our hearts, you who surpass all honor, though not in the eyes of men who see all honor in themselves. …O Lord my God, my Light, my Wealth, and my Salvation” (Confessions, Book IX, 1).

John Piper comments, “This is Augustine’s understanding of grace. Grace is God’s giving us sovereign joy in God that triumphs over joy in sin. In other words, God works deep in the human heart to transform the springs of joy so that we love God more than sex or anything else” (The Legacy of Sovereign Joy, 57).

It seems that Augustine had an encounter with God that drove the power of temptation from him (although he also took great pains to avoid temptation in later life by establishing a monastery). That made me wonder why some people experience rapid freedom from temptation and others don’t. The thought came to me—though God could easily change or remove our temptations and difficulties, He is far more interested in cultivating a deep desire for Himself and for the holiness that He confers and enables within us. An awareness of our sinfulness and weakness certainly should reveal how desperately we need God and His mercy and grace to change us from the inside out.

As I observe the American church in general, I don’t see a lot of people who are desperate for God. I see people who are content with their sin and comfortable with superficial spirituality. There are some who are eager to learn and to wrestle with applying Scripture and living out their faith, but we appear to be in the minority. If all the nominal Christians got serious about knowing God intimately, we would need a lot more pastors, discipleship groups, Christian counselors, Sunday school classes, prayer meetings, and churches. But as I wrote recently, God has to be the one to nudge us toward “holy discontent” (to borrow Bill Hybels term). So long as we are content with the direction our lives are going, there is no motivation to seek change.

Just taking a quick survey of the New Testament, there are many references to struggling, fighting, resisting, fleeing, and being burdened. I don’t think Paul and the author of Hebrews would have much understanding of or compassion for lackadaisical Christians.

• 1 Peter 4:1-2- “Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same way of thinking, for whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live for the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for human passions but for the will of God” (ESV).
• Hebrews 12:3-4- “Consider Him who endured from sinners such hostility against Himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.”
• 1 Timothy 6:11-12- “But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”
• 2 Timothy 2:22- “So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart.”
• 2 Corinthians 4:8- “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.”

Some of the harshest words to Christians in Scripture are recorded in Revelation to the churches in Sardis and Laodicea:

•          3:1-2- “I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God.”
•          3:15-16- “I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.”

May we not be content to tolerate sin, but may God make us discontented with the world so that we become desperate for Him!

Delighting in Weakness

Some time ago I was reading 2 Corinthians and noticed that 12:10 varies depending on the version you read. The NIV says, “That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” However, the ESV starts out, “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses…” Others translate the Greek word εὐδοκέω (eudokeo) as “take pleasure.”

While I usually use the ESV, I think in this instance the translators have weakened the impact of the verse. There’s a significant difference, at least in the minds of modern readers, between being content and delighting or taking pleasure. Perhaps that wasn’t a problem for the original audience. I can think of many instances when we talk about being “content” with something that we really would like to change if we could. But to delight in something implies that it should not be changed, that it doesn’t need improvement, and that it is perfect as it is.

I suppose the reason for using the word “content” in this particular verse is that we don’t generally associate pleasure with weakness, insults, persecution, and difficulty. I’m sure most of us would like to avoid those situations if we could, but we learn to put up with them when we have to. But it appears that the Apostle Paul had a completely different attitude. He delighted in sufferings, he took pleasure in persecution, and he had no desire to end the difficulties, because God’s power was demonstrated in Paul’s weakness. “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (v. 9 ESV).

I can definitely say I’m not there yet, though I am perhaps closer than I’ve ever been. There is a sense of gratitude and joy in realizing that God has worked in and through me despite my weakness. I sometimes wonder how God can use my feeble efforts to accomplish His purposes, and yet He does it again and again. As Paul says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7). God’s intention is to glorify Himself, not us. So the weaker we are, the more glory God gets for displaying His power. And the more God is glorified, the more we should delight in our weakness.

We tend to get it all backwards. We think that God is pleased when we are strong enough to do the work on our own, like the boss who finally gets his employee trained on the job. The problem is that when we can do it on our own then we don’t need God’s strength, and He doesn’t get the glory. And God is the only One who is really worthy of glory.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of praising human efforts rather than praising God. I’m sure there were church services held this week that were a great display of musical talent and polished performance, but if God wasn’t glorified, what was the point? There were probably also services where virtually everything went wrong that could go wrong, but God touched hearts and changed lives and He was glorified. Some folks joke about the “demons” that possess sound systems and computers, but I wonder if God doesn’t plan His own difficulties for us so that He will be glorified in our weakness. He certainly is capable of making everything work perfectly if He so chooses. So maybe He chooses to let us stumble so He can be the One who is seen.

Most Christians probably want God to get the glory, but we also have a hard time giving up control. We’d rather not suffer if we can help it. Somehow we need to learn to embrace hardship as the Apostle Paul did rather than running from it.

Lord, do whatever it takes to teach me to be not just content with weakness, but to delight in it for the sake of Your glory. I trust You.