Joy Unending

I had an unusual experience this week. I’m a little hesitant to share it, but hopefully my friends will understand. This was the culmination of multiple conversations and events in recent days. Here’s a little of the background...

In our chapel service at the office on Wednesday we were talking about Genesis 3:1-13 where the serpent asked Eve “Did God really say...?” And Eve and Adam decided that even though God commanded them not to eat of the tree, He must not have had their best interests at heart, and they wanted something more than the paradise He had provided. Immediately after that discussion, I read the daily devotion from Truth for Life, “The Deep Cost of Sin.” Charles Spurgeon wrote:

“Did sin ever yield you real pleasure? Did you find solid satisfaction in it? If so, go back to your old drudgery, and wear the chain again, if it delights you. But inasmuch as sin never gave you what it promised to bestow but deluded you with lies, do not be snared by the old fowler: Be free, and let the memory of your enslavement prevent you from entering the net again!”

Later in the day I revisited a post on Desiring God, “Sin Will Never Make You Happy.” John Piper wrote:

“If my thirst for joy and meaning and passion are satisfied by the presence and promises of Christ, the power of sin is broken... The fight of faith is the fight to stay satisfied with God.”

Then at the end of the day I was meditating on Psalm 16:11 (ESV): “You make known to me that path of life; in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures evermore.” Part of my prayer was: “Father, I believe this by faith even though the flesh tells me it is not true... Help me refute the lies of the enemy with the sword of the Spirit...” I admit I was wishing for some kind of experiential “proof” to confirm what I know by faith.

All of that was on my mind as I fell asleep and started to dream. In my dream, I was dying of kidney failure. (I’m not sure how I knew that.) As my physical life was ending and I was unconscious to the world, I was fully conscious of God. I could only see light increasing around me. As it grew, I was suddenly overwhelmed with waves of gratitude and joy and peace. I couldn’t help expressing my thanks—for painless death; for God receiving me with love; for His sufficiency; for the ways He had kept me from sin; and much more. At the same time, I was feeling what I can only describe as delightful tingling in every cell of my body. The whole experience was beyond any earthly comparison.

I woke up, and after a brief disappointment that life still went on as usual, I was deeply grateful for the memory I retained of that dream. I remembered the story Dennis Jernigan shared in the intro to his song “Sweep Over Me” of Charles Finney feeling waves of love coming over him. (Listen to the story and song here or read more of Finney’s story here.) That song stayed on my mind as I went back to sleep.

I’m not trying to interpret Scripture in light of experience, but I will say this: when we as Christians come to the end of life and enter God’s presence, it will all be worth it—every trial and struggle, every persecution or challenge, every time we’ve said no to sin, even every time we’ve found forgiveness in Christ. The Word assures us that this is true. It will be worth it all because of the “surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus” as Lord and Savior (Philippians 3:8).

Even as the intensity of the dream fades, I hope I will remember it as a little extra fuel for the endurance race of this life. I want to continually remind myself that living for God and obeying Him will always reap greater rewards than any sin that might tempt me. Only He can provide eternal life and pleasures forevermore. I only had a small glimpse of what that might be like, and I know that the reality will far surpass anything I can imagine.

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

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

Sowing the Eternal

Peter Kreeft’s book Back to Virtue has some good thoughts that are worth mulling over:

“God often withholds from us the grace to avoid a lesser sin because we are in danger of a greater sin. To avoid pride, he sometimes lets us fall into lust, since lust is usually obvious, undisguised, and temporary, while pride is not” (168).

At first glance, this doesn’t seem to make sense. Why would God allow one type of sin in order to keep us from another type? It almost seems to contradict James 1:13-15 (ESV), “Let no one say when he is tempted, ‘I am being tempted by God,’ for God cannot be tempted with evil, and He himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” James makes it clear that sin always begins and ends with self, not God.

So if self is the problem, why would pride be worse than lust? After all, it can be pride that says “I deserve this pleasure” or “I can handle this temptation.” But I think the greater danger is the pride that says “I successfully fought that temptation by myself,” and thereby denies God all the glory. He is less concerned about sins that cause us to cry out to Him for mercy and grace than about sins that make us think we don’t need Him. I can safely say that I don’t want to go back to the days when sin hardened my heart and drew me away from God. With a softer heart each sin hurts more, but it causes me to run to Him and not from Him.

Kreeft quotes Samuel Smiles:

“Sow a thought, reap an act. Sow an act, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny” (169).

There was a time when certain sins became so habitual that I’m sure it started to change my character, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Disdain for people, hiding my sin, building walls around my heart and my life—these weren’t harmless decisions. And reversing the process had to start with breaking down those walls to let others see that my true character was not what it appeared to be. Only from that place of vulnerability and accountability could I then break down the habits and cease the acts and thoughts underneath (or at least start to make progress against them). “For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life” (Galatians 6:8).

Another good quote from Kreeft:

“We are promised the great and inconceivable gift to see God face to face, just as he is... It is what we were made for, our ‘pearl of great price,’ our ‘one thing necessary’. If we only knew, we would eagerly sacrifice anything and everything in the world for this” (171-172).

That reminds me of C.S. Lewis’s comments about us “fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us” (The Weight of Glory). I confess I would like just a glimpse of that infinite, eternal joy so that the things of earth would “grow strangely dim,” but I suppose that would negate the need for faith and hope. If we could see exactly what was coming, we wouldn’t have to trust that God will one day make all our obedience worthwhile.

Recently I have returned to an old practice of praying through the armor of God (Ephesians 6:13-17) before I start my day. It is a reminder to me that I can’t do this alone. I have also found encouragement from Isaiah 41:10:

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

God will strengthen us for the battle if we will keep turning to Him. He will help us and protect us by His grace and for His glory. And when we do fall, as we often will, it is His righteousness that upholds us and not our own failed attempts at righteousness.

“I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall exult in my God, for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with the robe of righteousness...” (Isaiah 61:10).

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

Behold the Lamb

John the Baptist, when he saw Jesus coming toward him said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29 ESV). He is the only one who directly referred to Jesus as the Lamb of God. The Apostle John in Revelation 5:6 described Jesus as the Lamb that had been slain. Back in Genesis, when Abraham was taking Isaac to sacrifice him as God had commanded, told his son, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering” (Gen. 22:8). Jesus is God’s sacrificial Lamb because only God can provide the permanent, perfect sacrifice.

The Old Testament sacrificial system was never intended to provide lasting atonement. It was simply a temporary measure to point people back to God. Jesus was the perfect sacrifice because He was the perfect man. “He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since He did this once for all when He offered up Himself” (Hebrews 7:27). “For the death He died He died to sin, once for all, but the life He lives He lives to God” (Romans 6:10). “And by [His] will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all... For by a single offering He has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified” (Hebrews 10:10, 14). I love this reminder that sanctification is “already but not yet.”

It is divine irony that when Jesus was presented at the Temple Joseph and Mary could not afford a lamb to sacrifice, but instead offered a pair of doves in accordance with the Law (Luke 2:24 and Leviticus 12:8). I’m sure as Mary pondered these things later in life she understood that the real sacrifice that day was not her small offering but the Lamb of God given to her and given through her for the sake of the world.

“For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Corinthians 5:7b). He became our Passover Lamb because He was first God’s Lamb. “[You] were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19).

In the Master’s plan, the Lamb of God is also the Good Shepherd (John 10). Who can better understand the needs of the sheep than One who has walked among us, was tempted in every way as we are yet without sin, and then laid down His life for us?

“It is He who made us and we are His; we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture” (Psalm 100:3).

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

Just Rest

Last week I was on a spiritual retreat at the Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove. In talking with the others there, I was struck by the fact that many of us work until we drop, and we don’t actually rest until it is forced on us by the breakdown of our mental, physical, or spiritual health. It doesn’t matter whether we’re in some form of full-time ministry or not. From a CPA to an Air Force chaplain to a retired pastor, we were asking ourselves, “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” We all seem to think we are too important and too busy to rest.

It also hit me that we don’t really know what spiritual rest is. We use our vacation time for visiting family, frantic trips to tourist destinations, or accomplishing projects we’ve put on the back burner. There’s nothing wrong with those things, but they aren’t restful. Even working in a ministry that has a fairly generous vacation policy, I find myself rationing out my days for the least interruption to work and the most efficient use of my time.

After a busy season of ministry, Jesus told His disciples, “‘Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while,’ for many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat” (Mark 6:31 ESV). Physical rest and leisure were on His agenda (though the crowds interrupted their plans). Luke reports that Jesus “would withdraw to desolate places and pray” (Luke 5:15). If Jesus needed regular retreats, don’t we? We can all recite Matthew 11:28: “Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” and yet we don’t actually take the time to get away with Him. A daily quiet time and weekly worship service is not enough to give rest to our souls.

There has been a movement to restore the concept of sabbaticals to the church, and that’s a good thing. However, even in churches where that does not seem possible, I would contend that pastors still need to schedule a regular time of spiritual renewal at least every year. Even if it is just one week away from the church and without any interruptions, they need to come away and rest and seek spiritual renewal. And I think all of us could benefit from making that a part of our annual routines.

As I’m about halfway through my sabbatical, I think the lesson I most need to learn is to just rest. On the first week of my sabbatical, someone asked me why it was being called a sabbatical and whether I was working on a project. I felt guilty that the honest answer is, “No, it’s a sabbatical because the office is not supposed to be contacting me during this time.” However, the scriptural basis for the sabbatical is the Sabbath rest. It’s the academic world that has co-opted the term to make it mean something else.

Though my inclination is to keep busy doing things, I hear God saying to me, “Just relax and enjoy. Life is not about productivity and accomplishments.” [Ironically, that came to my attention soon after reading a quote from a minister who said that “God ministers His Word to us... exclusively through the Scripture,” which I think is a gross oversimplification.] He gave us the Sabbath to set apart time for Him. It’s not meant to be a day of planning, preparation, and productivity, but of rest. “On the seventh day He rested,” and so can we. We can build the regular rhythm of rest into our weeks and months and years.

It’s okay to stop and rest and listen for a while. As Jesus told Martha, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42). Spiritual food is more important than physical nourishment. We need both, but we may not feel the spiritual hunger nearly as quickly as we notice our empty stomachs.

My thought for today comes from Jonny Diaz’s song, Just Breathe: “Let your weary spirit rest. Lay down what’s good and find what’s best.” Regardless of how much good we are accomplishing or how many people we are pleasing, we need to stop and rest and seek God’s best. We might be surprised by what we hear from Him.

“Stand by the roads and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls” (Jeremiah 6:16b).

“Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you” (Psalm 116:7).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Photo by Dawn Rutan: Camp Dixie, Fayetteville, N.C.

Thoughts on Thoughts

On a recent read through Philippians, I happened to notice how often Paul refers to the way we think.

1:9-10 (ESV)- “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.”

2:2, 5- “Complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind... Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.”

3:10, 13- “That I may know Him... But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.”

3:15- “Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.”

3:19- “Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.”

4:8-9- “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”

The way that we think is important to God, and what we think about depends largely on what we put into our minds. When Paul wrote these words, I’m sure he could never have imagined the wide variety and instantly accessible media we have today. From where I’m sitting by a lake right now, I can access the world through my phone. We have a constant temptation to use our time and brains for unprofitable things.

That’s one of the things that I’ve been convicted of lately. As I’ve been on sabbatical, I’ve had much more limited access to television than usual. I haven’t really missed it, because I’ve had other things to keep me occupied. But I know when I return to my usual schedule I will have to be careful not to get back into the same old habits. It’s just so easy to turn on the TV for background noise while I am doing other things like reading or writing. What I’ve realized though is how distracting it actually is to try to multitask. As others have pointed out, we can’t really multitask. All we can do is switch our attention rapidly from one thing to another.

While it seems like a harmless habit, there is very little on TV that qualifies under Paul’s admonition to think about things that are true, honorable, pure, lovely, etc. Even when we try to filter what we watch, there is a lot that is unworthy of our attention. I don’t want to get legalistic about it, but I know I need to set some boundaries on how I use my time and attention. I tend to go through phases of cutting things out then letting them creep back in over time. I am being reminded that God usually speaks in a still, small voice, and I’m not likely to hear Him if I’m constantly bombarded with other voices and media.

Even my “quiet times” can be fragmented by trying to do too many different things. I don’t often read an entire book of the Bible in one sitting, so it’s not surprising that I hadn’t previously noted Paul’s repeated comments on thoughts before. In particular I saw the contrast between 3:19 and 4:8-9, setting our minds on earthly things or on eternal things. Paul makes the same parallel in Romans 8:5, “For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.” So then, why do we who have the Spirit choose to set our minds on earthly things so often? That’s a question that we may prefer to avoid unless we really want to make changes in our lives. I can see why some people will go so far as to get rid of their television. I’m not ready to take that step, but I will seriously consider what I can do to reduce the amount of “earthly input” I’m getting as compared to spiritual input.

Something to think about!

“Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ” (3:8).

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

Made for More

One of the books I bought for my sabbatical is Made for More: An Invitation to Life in God’s Image, by Hannah Anderson. The following are several quotes that caught my attention.

64-65- But faith teaches us that we will never be more truly ourselves than as we are conformed to God’s nature through Christ. Faith teaches us to forgo a superficial authenticity in order to find a deeper, more authentic sense of self. Faith teaches us that we are made to reflect the heart of God... He is calling you to faith. Faith to believe that He made you to be so much more than your momentary desires. Faith to believe that He made you to be more than your brokenness, more than your sin. Faith to believe that authenticity means faithfulness to the deepest part of His nature. Faith to believe that you were made for glory.

93- One of the most powerful things about grace is that it gives us a vision for who we could be. In the midst of our brokenness, it gives us hope. When God extends Himself to us, He is not so much expressing a belief in our ability to change, but in His ability to change us. He is confirming that we are not beyond redemption; we are not lost causes. If He was willing to sacrifice Himself for us, He must have a plan to make us more than we presently are. He must have a plan to bring us to glory.

120- Ultimately working imago dei [in the image of God] means understanding that all work is sacred, all ground, holy; not because of what the task is but because of who we are imaging. [Footnote:] Sometimes, in response to those who dismiss mundane work as unimportant, we respond by elevating the task or specific calling. The danger of this is that it simply shifts the reference point from one type of work to another. Work is holy, not because of what it accomplishes or whether we value the result, but because of who it images—God Himself.

153- I suspect that most of us feel the same way that little Velveteen Rabbit did. When it comes to finding identity imago dei, we long to be Real—to finally be who we were made to be—but that process often takes much longer and hurts much more than we could have ever predicted. Even as we understand that our identity comes from God, even as we begin to pursue relationship with Him and others, even as we submit to the life He has ordained for us, we must still actually live that life. We must endure its bumps and scrapes, its joys and sorrows, its victories and defeats.

155- You can wait in hope and patience because God is actively pursuing your transformation... Your being made like Him will happen because He promises it. And so you can trust Him. You can take hope. And because you have hope, you can continue on. You can persevere. You can keep going because this work is His work and He will do it.

157- As God transforms you to be more like Him, as your heart mirrors His more perfectly, you can expect two different things: (1) You should experience the ability to increasingly live as you were created to live and (2) You should also feel deeper pain when you do not. And it is this very pain that confirms that you are in the process of changing. This pain helps you remember that you are no longer the person you once were. Even on our worst days, then, even on those days when you feel so out of sorts that you hardly know yourself, you must remember that this discomfort, these growing pains assure that you are made for more.

166- We must find identity in the one thing that remains the same. We must find identity in the Great I Am.

Thought provoking and well worth reading.

Made for More © 2014 Hannah Anderson, Moody Publishers. Image courtesy of Amazon.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.