View from the Valley

Following up on last week’s post on the blessings of brokenness, I started thinking about various people in the Bible and how God impacted their lives. I suddenly realized that I couldn’t think of a single person who hadn’t suffered in some significant way. From Abraham to Moses to David to Paul, every one of them went through some pretty tough times in order to learn to depend on God and not themselves. Just think of the Hebrews 11 “Hall of Faith” and what each of those people endured.

So the question is, why do we think we can go through life without suffering difficulties? We are not naturally God-dependent in the flesh, so we should expect to have to learn some lessons through pain and trouble. Gerald Sittser writes in A Grace Disguised, “Can I expect to live an entire lifetime free of disappointment and suffering? Free of loss and pain? The very expectation strikes me as not only unrealistic but also arrogant. God spare me from such a perfect life! …To live in a world with grace is better by far than to live in a world of absolute fairness. A fair world may make life nice for us, but only as nice as we are. We may get what we deserve, but I wonder how much that is and whether or not we would really be satisfied. A world with grace will give us more than we deserve. It will give us life, even in our suffering” (110, 115).

That’s one reason the health and wealth “gospel” is so insidious. Sure, we’d all like comfort and success, but at what cost? If comfort means missing out on experiencing God’s sustaining grace, I’m not interested. If earthly riches means eternal ruin, no thanks! (See 1 Timothy 6:9-19.) Sometimes I wonder whether we are doing people a favor by praying for protection from suffering. We don’t want unnecessary suffering, but God can and will use all suffering for His glory if we give it to Him.

I can identify with C. S. Lewis’s comment, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will be” (Letters of C. S. Lewis). Having endured extended times of depression, I find that I am now more willing to pray “Whatever it takes, Thy will be done” rather than “Deliver me!” I’d rather go through the valley with God at my side than live on the mountaintop without really knowing Him.

I think that when we get accustomed to the “good life,” we find it harder to accept suffering when it comes. Would Job have complained as long if he hadn’t been so rich to start with? So many people turn to God when difficulties come, but then are inclined to ignore Him when life gets easier. Some of the godliest people I have known are ones who have endured suffering for a lifetime due to illness. John Piper said, “Any suffering person I’ve ever talked to bears witness to the fact that they have seen more of God and have come to know and trust God more deeply than if their suffering hadn’t come” (http://www.desiringgod.org/interviews/how-should-i-read-the-book-of-job). And Malcolm Muggeridge wrote, “Indeed, I can say with complete truthfulness that everything I have learned in my seventy-five years in this world, everything that has truly enhanced and enlightened my existence, has been through affliction and not through happiness, whether pursued or attained.”

Mountaintop views are made more glorious when contrasted with the dark valleys. And even the edge of darkness is glorious when you look into the light. I recently started reading The Pilgrim’s Progress, and John Bunyan describes well the sense of wonder and gratitude as he looked back on the darkness through which he had come:

“O world of wonders (I can say no less),
That I should be preserved in that distress
That I have met with here! Oh, blessed be
That hand that from it hath delivered me!
Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin,
Did compass me, while I this vale was in;
Yes, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets did lie
My path about, that worthless, silly I
Might have been catched, entangled, and cast down;
But, since I live, let Jesus wear the crown.”

“We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5 ESV).

Breaking Down Idols

The messages I heard Sunday in Sunday school and in the church service have melded together in my thinking this week. In Sunday school we’ve been talking about idols, which can be anything that we allow to take priority over God, and can even include good things. And the sermon was on the Christian practices that should point us to God but can sometimes lose their primary purpose.

I think a lot of church goers have made an idol of Christian practices and have entirely lost sight of loving God. It seems more obvious in the Catholic Church, where members are careful to attend mass, go to confession, and say their rosary, but may not have any clear understanding of Jesus as their Savior. However, Protestants can fall into the same trap. How many Bible scholars can quote chapter and verse but have no love for God and others? Some have called seminaries “Pharisee factories.” I think it was Mark Driscoll* who gave an example of a pastors conference he spoke at when he was fairly new in ministry, and some of the older ministers there confessed that they were only preaching because it was the only job they knew. They’d never really known God for themselves and didn’t believe the things they preached.

Bringing it a little closer to home, how many even in our churches can quote the “Sunday school answer” to most questions and are satisfied with that level of knowledge? They don’t care to dig deeper, apply their knowledge, or wrestle with the hard questions of life. It seems that only God can impart a desire for more, and many times that desire comes when we are broken from all our self-sufficiency and comfort. We aren’t likely to discard our idols if we think they are working. As C.S. Lewis said, we’re far too easily satisfied. If we’re comfortable with superficial knowledge and just doing enough to “get by,” then why should we jump into deeper waters?

Do we really want to wrestle with God if we know we’ll end up with a permanent limp like Jacob (Genesis 32)? Is it even possible to convince the comfortable that brokenness is actually preferable? It is in brokenness that we learn that God upholds us (Psalm 37:17); in emptiness that we find fullness of joy at His side (Psalm 16:11); and in weakness we find His strength (2 Corinthians 12:9). I don’t think you can appreciate the blessings of brokenness if you haven’t been there yourself.

I love the following song by Sidewalk Prophets, “Keep Making Me.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UI1obeb3A9c Is this something that we dare to pray? God just might answer by tearing down all our comfortable “Christian” idols!

*This blog was written before Mark Driscoll's downfall. I do not endorse him in any way.

Who Am I?

I am not a sinner
            I am redeemed
I am not guilty
            I am forgiven
I am not wounded
            I’ve been made whole
I am not weak
            I am an overcomer
I am not a victim
            I am a victor
I am not dead in sin
            I am alive in Christ
I am not in darkness
            I dwell in the Light
I am not forsaken
            I am deeply loved
I am not condemned
            I have peace with God
I am not dirty
            I am cleansed
I am not naked
            I am clothed in righteousness
I am not a doormat
            I am seated with Christ
I am not garbage
            I was bought with a price
I am not disgraced
            I am cherished
I am not ruined
            I am a new creation
I am not orphaned
            I am a child of God
I am not destitute
            I am an heir of God
I am not cut off
            I abide in the Vine
I am not ashamed
            I am accepted
I am not distressed
            I am at peace
I am not alone
            I am united with Christ and His body
I am not stuck
            I am being perfected
I am not helpless
            I have work to do
I am not hopeless
            I have hope for eternity
I am not fearful
            I know Whom I have believed

Lord, keep making me into who I am; remove all that I am not, until all that’s left is Your beloved child.

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).