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.

Remember

There’s a hymn that has been going through my mind for several days now, “I Then Shall Live” by Gloria Gaither (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsq3aDNhZIQ). The first verse starts “I then shall live as one who’s been forgiven...”

It got me thinking—what exactly does it mean to live as one who’s been forgiven, and how do we learn to do that? Interestingly, the tune of the song is the same as that of “Be Still, My Soul,” which perhaps answers some of my questions:

Be still, my soul! The Lord is on your side:
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul! Your best, your heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

I won’t quote all the verses, but they are a powerful reminder of God’s presence, provision, and protection. Living and walking in forgiveness seems to depend greatly on believing that God is who He says He is—that He really has forgiven, He is in control, and He will guide. The more we believe and trust God, the easier it becomes to be still and rest in His forgiveness.

Certainly there are things we can do to foster our faith: through spending time in reading Scripture and hearing it explained, prayer, worship, fellowship, and discipleship. I think the challenge is that as our faith grows, so does the opposition we face from the enemy. We have a real enemy who would like to see us abandon our faith, and he’ll stop at nothing to make us think we are unforgiven, beyond help, and hopeless. Our main defense against his attacks is the same one Jesus used when facing temptation: Scripture. Without that as our foundation, we will be blown about “by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes” of our enemy (Ephesians 4:14 ESV).

Where I come up against it is in dealing with unpredictable emotions (thanks depression!). It is easy to give in to negative feelings and let them lead to negative thoughts rather than trying to remember the truths of Scripture and following them to the fruit of joy and peace. Martyn Lloyd-Jones makes a good point in his book Spiritual Depression:

“Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? Take those thoughts that come to you the moment you wake up in the morning. You have not originated them but they are talking to you, they bring back the problems of yesterday, etc. Somebody is talking. Who is talking to you? Your self is talking to you. Now this man’s treatment [in Psalm 42] was this: instead of allowing this self to talk to him, he starts talking to himself. ‘Why art thou cast down, O my soul?’ he asks. His soul had been depressing him, crushing him. So he stands up and says, ‘Self, listen for moment, I will speak to you.’”

The prophet Habakkuk says something similar. After complaining to God and questioning His plan for two chapters, he begins praying and remembering what God has done. He finishes with: “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines… yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength…” (Hab. 3:17-19).

When it comes to learning to “live as one who’s been forgiven,” it takes a constant rehearsal of what God has done and what He has promised to do. I probably repeat this theme quite often in my blogs, but that’s because I find it so hard to practice in daily life, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I guess that’s why Scripture so often tells us to remember—through the daily or weekly gathering of believers, through communion, and through the annual holy days such as Easter. God knows how difficult it is for us to remember, so He provides opportunities for us to remind one another.

May this Easter be one of remembering the past with gratitude, celebrating our current forgiveness, and joyfully anticipating the future.

“‘He is not here, but has risen. Remember how He told you, while He was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.’ And they remembered His words” (Luke 24:6-7).

The Dwelling Place of God

Last night I was reading Psalm 132, and was struck by verse 13, “For the Lord has chosen Zion; He has desired it for His dwelling place” (ESV).

I suppose Palestine will always be recognized as the “Holy Lands,” because that is where God began His interaction with mankind and that is where Jesus walked while on this earth. In the Old Testament God chose Zion, and specifically the Temple, as His dwelling place. The Temple was the only place where animal sacrifices were authorized. And this was still the case when Jesus arrived on the scene. So you can imagine His dismay at finding the Temple desecrated by the moneychangers and those selling animals for sacrifice. But you can also imagine the terror the Pharisees felt in hearing Jesus say that He could destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days. It wasn’t just a matter of losing the local church building, but the dwelling place of God.

But Jesus was doing something entirely new. Now the dwelling place of God is not limited to a place, but is with man and even in man:

•         John 14:16-17 – “And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth, …He dwells with you and will be in you.”
•          2 Corinthians 6:16 – “…For we are the temple of the living God; as God said, ‘I will make my dwelling among them and walk among them, and I will be there God, and they shall be my people.’” [quoting Leviticus 26:12]
•          Revelation 21:3 – “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God.”

It really is astounding if you think about it—God, who is not limited by space or time, desires to dwell with and in His chosen people. We don’t have to go to a specific place to meet with Him, talk to Him, or ask for forgiveness.

I hadn’t thought about it till now, but the Old Testament sacrificial system ended when the Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D. And since the Jews don’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah, how exactly do they atone for their sins and receive forgiveness? One website I found stated: “Without [sacrifices] forgiveness is obtained through repentance, prayer and good deeds… It is important to note that in Judaism, sacrifice was never the exclusive means of obtaining forgiveness, was not in and of itself sufficient to obtain forgiveness, and in certain circumstances was not even effective to obtain forgiveness” (http://www.jewfaq.org/qorbanot.htm).

I don’t know about you, but I find great reassurance in the New Testament promises of forgiveness: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). We don’t have to rely on sacrifices, doing enough good deeds, or any other caveats that someone else may add. And for those who have trusted Christ, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). I know how often the enemy tries to bring condemnation against me, and I can only imagine how much more I would fear condemnation if I were not certain of Jesus’ redeeming death on the cross. Any religion that depends on me being good enough or doing enough good things is actually quite terrifying.

Thank God that He has made a way for us to be with Him, not just for eternity, but for daily life as well!

“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, …that He may grant you to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:14-19).

Belonging

I hadn’t read any C.S. Lewis for a while until I picked up The Weight of Glory recently. He has two essays in there that are closely related. In “The Inner Ring” he talks about our desire to belong to some select group of people, and the perils of seeking the wrong kind of clique. He advises that the best kind of Inner Ring is that which happens accidentally—“four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like. This is friendship.”

Then in “Membership” Lewis addresses the complexities of individualism and collectivism within the Church. He writes,

“The very word membership is of Christian origin, but it has been taken over by the world and emptied of all meaning. In any book on logic you may see the expression ‘members of a class.’ It must be most emphatically stated that the items or particulars included in a homogeneous class are almost the reverse of what St. Paul meant by members. By members he meant what we should call organs, things essentially different from, and complementary to, one another, things differing not only in structure and function but also in dignity…”

Reading the two theses together got me thinking about what it means to belong. From our earliest childhood, we all desire a sense of belonging—in a family, a classroom, a group of friends, a society or club, etc. And some folks go to great lengths to fit in with a particular segment of people. Gang membership is peer pressure taken to extremes. Usually the members of a group have something in common, even if it just the kind of music they listen to or the shoes they buy. Facebook is built on the desire for people to belong to a circle of friends, acquaintances, or dog-lovers.

Lewis draws out a couple points worth considering. First, often our desire to belong is not so much that we have a lot in common with a group of people, but that by being on the “inside” we can feel superior to those who are outside. We may not even know or care what Society X does, but it gives us a feeling of power to know that we are members of an elite group.

Second, the Church is founded on an entirely different idea of membership. It was never meant to be a social club for like-minded individuals to belong to and therefore feel superior to those on the outside. In fact, there is nothing we can do to earn our membership in the body. We are chosen entirely on the basis of what someone else did for us—by Jesus’ death on the cross. We have no reason to feel superior when we realize what sinners we are. We have no merit of our own.

And as Lewis states clearly, members of the Church are not a homogenous class with every person looking, sounding, and serving in exactly the same way. Instead, we are unique organs with unique functions within a Body. (See Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 12, and Ephesians 4.) My role, appearance, location, and relationship to the other organs is not going to be quite the same as any other member. Lewis also points out that our value is not innate in our humanity, but it is conveyed to us by virtue of our place in the Body. God doesn’t go around looking for people able to fill a particular role. “There is no question of finding for him a place in the living temple which will do justice to his inherent value and give scope to his natural idiosyncrasy. The place was there first. The man was created for it. He will not be himself till he is there.”

These truths should impact us deeply as Christians. We should take great comfort in knowing that we belong to something far greater than ourselves. We shouldn’t feel the pressure to conform to some random standard of society in order to belong, but should have the most secure sense of belonging possible in Christ. In addition, we ought to be humbled to realize that we didn’t do anything to earn our place here, and no one else has to earn their right to belong either. In fact, we don’t really have any say in whether another belongs or not. That decision is entirely up to God.

May God forgive our prideful, judgmental, exclusionary approach to “doing church!”

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience” (Colossians 3:12 ESV).

Labels or Love?

Have you thought much about the Disney movie of Cinderella? It’s a nice story of the poor oppressed girl who is saved from a life of slavery to marry the Prince. There are probably several theological parallels that can be drawn from the story. But there’s one I hadn’t thought about till I came across this quote from Soren Kierkegaard as quoted in When People Are Big and God Is Small, by Edward Welch:

“Do you now know that there comes a midnight hour when everyone has thrown off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it? I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself…” (32-33)

Aside from the fact that it would shorten the story, why did Cinderella run away from the ball just as the clock was striking midnight? It seemed pretty evident that the Prince was in love with her since he danced with her all night and ignored the other girls. Yet Cinderella was terrified that he would see her as the enslaved, unwanted stepchild that was unworthy of his love. Of course, she eventually finds out that he doesn’t care about all that, though it’s not clear from the story whether he was judging her solely on her appearance.

Shame will make us do all kinds of dumb things—run away from people who love us, dress to play a part, avoid any potentially awkward situations, hold our tongue when we should speak up, put other people down to make ourselves look better, and so on. We all try to shape others’ perceptions of us to some degree.  

I started writing this post last week, but thought about it again on Sunday during the sermon on Jesus cleansing the leper, as I realized that leprosy became an identity for the victim. He wasn’t just sick, he was “unclean.” And though the passage in Mark 1:40-45 doesn’t specifically say so, I believe that when Jesus cleansed him, all of the physical manifestations of the disease were also removed. Why? Because his former appearance was intimately tied to the shameful identity of leper. If he were still missing fingers or features, people would always be aware and perhaps fearful of what he had been. And I believe that God is able to remove the stigma of shame. (Though I’ll admit that the scars of leprosy would also be a good witnessing tool. Interpret it however you like.)

Thankfully, leprosy is pretty uncommon now, but unfortunately shame is epidemic. We’d all like to have a prince come sweep us off our feet and take us to live in the palace, or touch us and heal every trace of disease, but for the time being we try to content ourselves with living in isolation, avoiding further pain. In many cases, the church has not helped to heal the shame. Believers are just as prone to label people as unbelievers are—“leper,” “HIV+,” “homosexual,” “adulterer,” “unwed mother,” “alcoholic,” “murderer,” “gossip,” “mentally ill,” etc. And when confronted with some hot-button topic, we can develop an “Us vs. Them” mentality. It’s as if we think that by talking only about categories we’ll never have to deal with individuals. And if we offend everyone in the process, we may be right!

But Jesus never did that. The only time He talked about categories was when He condemned the Pharisees for caring more about the law than about people. When Jesus fed the 5,000 He didn’t see a faceless crowd but a bunch of individuals in need. The disciples apparently saw only the crowd. When He cleansed the leper or healed the blind, He wasn’t just curing a disease but healing a person. Look at all the times the Gospels say that Jesus was moved with pity or compassion. I don’t believe you can truly be moved with compassion if you only see a crowd and not people, if you only see a label and not an individual, if you only see the “unclean” and not the man.

I would suggest that we need to have the eyes of Jesus. Wounds are healed, shame is dulled, people are saved, and lives are changed through the love of God as shown through individuals. I read an interview with the author of Get Real: Sharing Your Everyday Faith Every Day in byFaith magazine, who said the key to evangelism is not seeking someone to talk to, but rather finding someone to listen to. God doesn’t save groups, He saves individuals. Scripture doesn’t tell us “Love everyone,” it says “Love one another.” You have to really see the other one before you can love them.

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God” (1 John 4:7 ESV).

Looking for Fruit

I haven’t had much time or inclination for writing this week. I’ve been wrestling with the fleshly opposites of the Fruit of the Spirit, and joy, peace, patience, and self-control have been lacking. My frequent prayer has been, “Lord, do it for me because I can’t do it for myself!” And as I was reminded in chapel Wednesday (thanks to Travis Hutcheson), only Jesus can do the cleansing of the temple that we need to make His glory shine through us. (See 2 Chronicles 7:1-3, Mark 11:15-17, and 1 Corinthians 6:19-20.)

In the midst of these challenges, I’ve been reading some books by John Piper. In A Godward Heart, he writes:

“The death of Jesus for sin was planned before the foundation of the world. We know this because the book of Revelation refers to names written ‘before the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain’ (Revelation 13:8), and because Paul tells us that God saved us by ‘grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began’ (2 Timothy 1:9). Therefore, since Christ was slain for sin, and since grace is God’s response to sin, we know that sin was part of the plan from the beginning... What is at stake in the sovereignty of God over sin is the ultimate aim of the universe, namely, the exaltation of the Son of God in the greatest act of wrath-removing, sin-forgiving, justice-vindication grace that ever was or ever could be...” (10-12).

I realize that many Christians don’t hold such a broad view of the sovereignty and foreknowledge of God, but I’m becoming more convinced of it day by day. And the more I believe in God’s foreknowledge of how sinful I would be, the more amazing His grace becomes. He had no reason to love or forgive any one of us, and yet He did. And His grace not only forgives our sin, but it changes us as well. Elyse Fitzpatrick writes in Overcoming Fear, Worry and Anxiety,

“Grace inclines our hearts to live lives that are sober and moderate... His grace bends our hearts toward righteousness. Whereas we once relished the thought of coddling our pet sin, we are now learning, by His grace, to hate it and to love righteousness... So you see, a true measure of God’s grace in one’s life isn’t careless living, rather, it’s a life bent toward holiness. And a correct understanding of His grace realizes that we’ll never be perfectly holy while here on earth” (186-187).

I take away several lessons from my reading and experiences of late. 1) God knows my sin and weakness and loves me anyway. 2) He is working to change me and grow His fruit in me. 3) He will work in His own time and way. That last point is both reassuring and frustrating. He will accomplish His purposes, but not on my schedule. I want to see the Fruit of the Spirit just bursting forth in my life, the way the flowers practically pop into bloom each spring. But then again, the flowers bloom and fade in a very short time. We have a lifetime to be refined and God is going to use every minute of it.

Another book I just finished is Healing Is a Choice, by Stephen Arterburn. He states, “God is with you and wants to grow your character. The quick fix or instant solution does not do that. Character is never instant, and God often uses our circumstances to build it within us... All of your sorrow and struggle and pain will be used for your good and His glory. He will not waste a thing” (201, 211). God can even use our sin shape us the way He wants us to be. If nothing else, it is a reminder of how much we need His grace to forgive us and change us.

“It is when we are conscious that we are feeble, and when we feel our need of aid, that the redeemer manifests His power to uphold, and imparts His purest consolations.” –Albert Barnes

“But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me” (1 Corinthians 15:10 ESV).

The Big Picture

A few days ago I read Psalm 105, which talks about God’s wonderful works in choosing Abraham and giving him a land, sending Joseph ahead to Egypt to provide food for the Israelites during the famine, and then eventually redeeming the Israelites from Egypt through the work of Moses. And those are indeed marvelous works that we should remember in each successive generation.

In thinking particularly of Moses, I remembered someone who was important to the story, but we don’t even know his name. In Exodus chapter 2:11-12 we read:

“One day, when Moses had grown up, he went out to his people and looked on their burdens, and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his people. He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand” (ESV).

And then the word gets out and Moses runs for his life, straight to the wilderness where he would live and learn for roughly the next 40 years. God had him where He wanted him. But did you catch what it took to get him there? Seeing one of his countrymen being beaten. Have you ever wondered what happened to that Hebrew? It doesn’t say that he died from his wounds, but we also don’t know if he lived to see Moses return and free the people from slavery. For all he could tell, his suffering was entirely in vain. But God used that man’s suffering to set up the sequence of events needed to get Moses in place.

Consider also the Hebrew women who lost their sons in order that Moses would be set adrift in a basket and found by the princess so he could be educated in the palace. Their suffering also seemed senseless at the time. And it is unlikely that many of them ever realized that their suffering provided a way for their future redemption from slavery, assuming they even lived long enough for Moses to reach adulthood.

There were a lot of individuals who suffered terribly while waiting for God’s plan to be fulfilled. And that still seems to be the case today. As we were reminded in Sunday’s sermon on Mark 1:29-34, Jesus came along and attracted a crowd, and He healed “many” of the sick and delivered “many” from demons. Something similar happened in John 5 at the pool of Bethesda. A multitude of invalids were there, but Jesus is only reported to have healed one. If you were one of the ones healed, I’m sure you’d be thrilled and would tell everyone what Jesus of Nazareth had done for you. But what if you weren’t healed? What if you had to be carried back home to the bed you’d occupied for the last thirty years? You might not be so enthralled with the God who allows suffering to continue.

It sounds cliché, but it really comes down to a question of faith—do you believe that God’s ways are higher than our ways, and He has plans that we can’t begin to conceive (see Isaiah 55:8-9)? The Bible is full of people who couldn’t understand why they went through often horrific circumstances. But through it all, God weaves the thread of His plan of redemption for mankind. He sets up rulers and tears down kingdoms; He controls the weather and the people; He knows our thoughts before we even speak them. If we call Him God, we have to believe that He is truly the Master of all things, including whatever difficult circumstances we may be facing right now. And if He is in control, then we have to trust that He will change our circumstances if and when He sees fit, and not a minute earlier.

That’s a concept I wrestle with on a regular basis. Several questions confront me frequently, and perhaps they are ones we all need to tackle at different times:

• Do I believe God is in control of all things, not just the big things?
• Do I believe that He can change things?
• Do I trust that He has heard my cries, and that He knows the desires of my heart?
• Am I content to wait on His timing, or am I trying to take things into my own hands?
• And if it is not His will for things to change the way I want, am I content to keep pressing on and trusting Him?
• Can I keep trusting that He is using all things for His good purposes, even when they don’t make sense to me?

“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen” (Ephesians 3:20-21 NIV).