A Little Faith

In Mark 9, immediately following the account of the Transfiguration, Jesus interacts with a man whose son is suffering seizures because of a demon. The man implores, “If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus sounds a wee bit miffed when He responds, “‘If you can!’ All things are possible for the one who believes.” The man’s response is one I have often prayed, “I believe; help my unbelief!” In Matthew’s account of the incident, when the disciples ask Jesus why they couldn’t cast out the demon, His response is “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you” (Matt. 17:20 see also 21:21).

This wasn’t the first time the disciples had their lack of faith pointed out by Jesus. There are four prior times mentioned in Scripture:

“But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” (Matt. 6:30).

In the storm on the sea, “He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’ Then He rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm” (Matt. 8:26).

Peter tried walking on water, “But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’ Jesus immediately reached out His hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” (Matt. 14:30-31).

After Jesus fed the multitude, and the disciples wondered why Jesus was talking about leaven, Jesus said, “O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive? Do you not remember…?” (Matt. 16:8-9).

Here were twelve men who walked with Jesus and listened to His teaching every day for three years straight, and yet He kept mentioning their “little” faith. That encourages me because we’re in good company! We probably all fit in that category most of the time. (I have yet to hear of someone moving a mountain with their mustard seed-sized faith.) Even though we know God is fully capable of doing anything He wants, we don’t always believe that He will, and we often don’t even bother to ask Him to do so.

There have been many times I’ve wished and prayed for stronger faith, but even that is a little scary because, as James wrote, “For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (1:3). I’d rather have the faith without any testing if possible, but that isn’t God’s normal method of working. Who needs faith when things are going smoothly? It’s in the midst of the storms and questions that we have to decide if we trust that God is good, in control, and fully aware of our circumstances.

It’s not so much the size of our faith that matters, but the One in whom it is placed. God is perfectly willing to work with people who have faith the size of a grain of sand, so long as we keep turning to Him as often as we need to.

“Have you believed because you have seen Me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29).

© 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.

All Together Now

Brant Hansen wrote in Blessed Are the Misfits:

Growing up in church, I’d heard it said hundreds of times that evangelism was everybody’s primary job in life. But when it came to other gifts on that same list— like, say, doing apostolic work— I didn’t hear this. So if I wasn’t personally bringing people to Christ, or at least bringing new people to church, I was failing. I simply needed to be enthusiastically talking to people about Jesus in all sorts of settings, or at least have the decency to feel perpetually guilty for not doing it. Imagine my shock, then, when I couldn’t find this as a fundamental emphasis in the New Testament description of the church... Yes, Jesus tells His disciples to “Go into all the world...” to make disciples (Mark 16:15), and the Twelve did exactly that. But Paul doesn’t seem to think this was a message intended in the same way for everyone (ch. 7).

My experience of church has often been very similar—a frequent feeling that I’m not doing all that I’m supposed to be doing as a “good Christian” because I’m not purposefully seeking to evangelize or make disciples. I think most pastors and teachers have good intentions behind their efforts to spur people to get up and go, but I also think that many are operating from and communicating faulty assumptions.

Jesus told His disciples just prior to His ascension, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19-20). This command was given to the group of them, and by extension, to the Church as a whole. It has been said that a better translation might be “As you are going, make disciples…” In any case, the verbs in the Greek are plural, not singular.

That’s not to say that individuals don’t have any responsibility—we do because the Church is made up of individuals. As Paul reiterated in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12, the Body is made up of many members with different and complementary functions. We can’t all be the tongue or the feet. Some of us need to be hands or ears. Our responsibility is to serve with the gifts, talents, and personalities He has given each one of us, working alongside and supporting the others in our local gathering.

Years ago, when I joined a taekwondo school, someone commented about how I’d intentionally placed myself in a mission field there. Well, no, I didn’t. I was there for the exercise and self-defense. I did (eventually) build some relationships with folks that led to discussions about matters of faith, though I don’t know what lasting fruit came from most of those conversations.

In his book, Hansen humorously comments,

While [Francis] Chan said church people get “awkward” when it comes to talking about Jesus, I can assure him that for many of us [introverts], the “awkward” part starts with just talking… In fact, the awkward precedes the talking. Awkward is a given. Awkward is a way of life.

I’ve periodically been pressed to share a devotional verbally in some setting. I think I’ve only consented maybe twice in two decades. My stock response is, “I write so that I don’t have to talk.” If someone told me that to be a member of their church I would have to go share the Four Spiritual Laws with some stranger, I would promptly find a new church. In grad school I signed up for a class on discipleship, but dropped it after the first session when we were told we had to go find someone to disciple that whole semester. As much as I know those things are important, I don’t think God intends for us to give ourselves ulcers because of the massive anxiety some of us face in doing it by one prescribed method.

There are people who love to talk to strangers, but I’m not one of them. But I do enjoy writing and finding ways to apply Scripture so that others can be encouraged and edified in their faith. God made each of us unique because He has unique ways for us to glorify Him and to build up His Church. You do your part, and I’ll do mine, and we’ll enjoy the fruits of all our labor together.

“God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as He chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body” (1 Cor. 12:18-20).

 

© 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.

Be Aware, Take Care

We’re nearing the end of Mental Health Awareness Month. One of the things I’ve read and heard from multiple sources is the idea that our culture has pathologized normal human experiences in many ways, and the church is not immune from such perceptions. We know we live in a fallen world with broken bodies. Yet instead of accepting that fact and finding ways to cope with our own brokenness and support others in their brokenness, we look for diagnoses and treatments that will take away anything that we think is less than ideal. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) has grown from 130 pages in its first edition to almost 1000 pages in the fifth edition. Normal experiences of grief, anxiety, or just being a little different from your peers are now seen as something that needs to be fixed.

I’m not saying that mental illness doesn’t exist. I know it does because I take medication for it every day. (I will say that the medication doesn’t remove the problem, it just makes it more bearable.) I also know that God uses all kinds of difficult experiences to draw people closer to Him. I’m regularly reminded that my weakness is meant to make me rely on His strength; my sorrow presses me to go to Him for comfort; my anxieties cause me to pray for His guidance and provision; and my quirky way of seeing things allows me to serve God in ways that others can’t.

A couple podcasts I’ve listened to recently have brought out good points. One said that the rise of “helicopter parents,” who try to protect their kids from any kind of adversity, has produced a generation of young people who don’t know how to cope with normal life. Another pointed out how Christians take verses like Philippians 4:6, “Do not be anxious about anything,” out of context and beat people over the head with it for their “sinful” lack of faith. Many Christians have adopted a type of health and wealth gospel that says if you just have enough faith you’ll never have any anxiety or sorrow, and you can go through life with a smile on your face at all times. That simply isn’t true, because that is not the world we live in.

Jesus Himself was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Is. 53:3), and He sweat drops of blood in Gethsemane as He knew what was ahead for Him (Luke 22:44). I heard someone say that if we could have seen Jesus’ face as He told His disciples “Do not be anxious about tomorrow” (Matt. 6:34), we would know that this was not a harsh command to be obeyed, but a gentle, loving reminder that God is in control. I was reading one resource that was trying to make the point that depression is not always a result of sin, but they went on to heap guilt on those who “refuse to take the necessary steps to find healing in your life” (supposedly based on James 4:17). Such a statement is not in line with the gentle correction that comes from those who love God and love one another.

One podcast from Russell Moore and Curtis Chang urges us to use our feelings of anxiety as a pointer to what things we fear losing in the future, so we can learn to give those to God. Sometimes we allow anxiety about the future or regret and sorrow about the past to keep us from living well in the present. Sometimes we need help through medication and counseling to be able to better handle the things God allows to come into our lives. Those can be part of God’s common means of grace in this broken world.

If those in the church were more willing to talk about their struggles with anxiety, depression, feeling out of place, and yes, even sin, perhaps we’d all become better at encouraging and supporting those who need a listening ear or a hug. We were never meant to go through this life alone, nor to stoically pretend that everything is sunshine and flowers all the time. (There’s also poison ivy, which I’m also taking medication for!)

May we be the hands and arms and eyes and ears of Christ for those in need.

“For everything there is a season... a time to weep, and a time to laugh, and time to mourn, and a time to dance... a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose... a time to keep silence, and a time to speak...” (Eccl. 3:1-8).

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© 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.

Walking with God through Pain and Suffering

Perhaps the best book I’ve read so far this year is Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, by Tim Keller. He starts with a few chapters on the “problem of evil” and how that shapes or is shaped by our understanding of God (theodicy). But then he moves into more practical application for those who are suffering. Following are a few quotes that stood out to me:

80- [One] of the main teachings of the Bible is that almost no one grows into greatness or finds God without suffering, without pain coming into our lives like smelling salts to wake us up to all sorts of facts about life and our own hearts to which we were blind. For reasons past our finding out, even Christ did not bring salvation and grace to us apart from infinite suffering on the cross. As he loved us enough to face the suffering with patience and courage, so we must learn to trust in him enough to do the same. And as his weakness and suffering, thus faced, led to resurrection power, so can ours.

121-122- If God actually provided an explanation of all the reasons why he allows things to happen as they do, it would be too much for our finite brains. Think of little children and their relationship to their parents... though they aren’t capable of knowing their parents’ reasons, they are capable of knowing their parents’ love and therefore are capable of trusting them and living securely. That is what they really need. Now, the difference between God and human beings is infinitely greater than the difference between a thirty-year-old parent and a three-year-old child. So we should not expect to be able to grasp all God’s purposes, but through the cross and gospel of Jesus Christ, we can know his love. And that is what we need most.

262- It is perhaps most striking of all to realize that if God had given Joseph the things he was likely asking for in prayer, it would have been terrible for him. And we must realize that it was likely God essentially said no relentlessly, over and over, to nearly all Joseph’s specific requests for a period of about twenty years... In the dungeon, Joseph turns to God for help in interpreting the dream. Despite all the years of unanswered prayer, Joseph was still trusting God. The point is this—God was hearing and responding to Joseph’s prayers for deliverance, rescue, and salvation, but not in the ways or forms or times Joseph asked for it.

264- We must never assume that we know enough to mistrust God’s ways or be bitter against what he has allowed. We must also never think we have really ruined our lives, or have ruined God’s good purposes for us... The pain and misery that resulted in their lives from his action were very great. Yet God used it redemptively. You cannot destroy his good purposes for us. He is too great, and will weave even great sins into a fabric that makes us into something useful and valuable. Ultimately, we must trust God’s love.

287-288- And in the end, God said Job triumphed. How wonderful that our God sees the grief and anger and questioning, and is still willing to say “you triumphed” —not because it was all fine, not because Job’s heart and motives were always right, but because Job’s doggedness in seeking the face and presence of God meant that the suffering did not drive him away from God but toward him. And that made all the difference.

312- When things go wrong, one of the ways you lose your peace is that you think maybe you are being punished. But look at the cross! All the punishment fell on Jesus. Another thing you may think is that maybe God doesn’t care. But look at the cross! The Bible gives you a God that says, “I have lost a child too; not involuntarily— voluntarily, on the cross, for your sake. So that I could bring you into my family.”

In short, I found the book to be an encouraging reminder to trust God more fully (I’m still a work in progress), because He is the only One who can work all things together for our ultimate good and His glory.

“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” (Isaiah 41:10).

© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. Image courtesy of Amazon.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Root and Fruit of Hope

According to Thayer’s Greek Lexicon, the noun for “hope” (elpis) in the New Testament most often means “expectation of good, hope; and in the Christian sense, joyful and confident expectation of eternal salvation.” If you read through the list of verses (here), it usually refers to hope in God and in the promise of eternal life through faith in Christ. The verb form (elpizo) sometimes has the idea of a wish or desire (such as Phil. 2:23), though also refers to fixing one’s hope on God.

I haven’t heard this elsewhere, but I’ve been thinking about it like this—true hope is rooted in God and what He has promised from and for all eternity. Out of that root grow the fruit of godly desires for this life and for what God is doing in us and through us. The root of eternal hope gives us meaning and purpose in life.

I think it is helpful to differentiate between the root of hope and its fruit, because although we may desire certain outcomes, most of them are not guaranteed for this lifetime. We trust in God and His plan, but the specifics are out of our control. We know that God will bring many people to faith in Him, but we don’t know whether that will include a particular person we love. We know that God has put His people together into local church bodies to work together to share the Gospel and disciple others, but we don’t know whether our particular church will be faithful to that call or will even exist ten years from now. (Three churches I’ve attended in the past are now closed.) We know that one day all believers will be resurrected to a perfect existence, but we don’t know whether our family member will be cured from their illness here and now. We know that God will strengthen His people to endure suffering, but we don’t know if our particular area of suffering will come to an end before we die.

That’s why I have often said that my hope is almost entirely in eternity and not in this life, because the things that I would like to see happen here are not guaranteed. God is at work and He will fulfill His purposes, but His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways (Is. 55:8). I will wish and pray for the outcomes I desire, but ultimately, I must say, “Thy will be done.”

I believe this is one of the lessons from the life of Job. He had certain expectations of his life, but God allowed him to suffer in ways that didn’t make sense to him. So often we quote only the first half of Job 13:15, “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him; yet I will argue my ways to His face.” In the end, Job realized that his assumptions were misplaced. God never did answer Job’s questions, but He did remind Job that He was still in control of all things. Job’s hope couldn’t be in his prosperity, his family, his understanding, or even his religious activities, but in God alone.

I have sometimes called myself a cynic, but actually I’m what this article from TGC calls a hopeful realist.

“This is a perspective that embraces the dual realities of contemporary evil and forthcoming redemption. It lives in the tension of a groaning creation and its imminent restoration.”

I have no illusions that things in this life will go the way I want them to, but I cling to the hope that God will one day make all things new and “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). In the meantime, we are all meant to be working in the pursuit of God’s will and living in obedience to His Great Commission and Great Commandment.

“If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Cor. 15:19).

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Rom. 15:13).

© 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.

Connections

Some people might understand my feelings lately that I struggle to know how to connect with people in reciprocal ways. Although I have some people that I consider close friends, I have no idea whether those people perceive the relationships the same way I do. For them I may an acquaintance, coworker, friend, or close friend, but I don’t know.

I’ve been watching some YouTube videos from autistic folks lately, particularly from Tony Attwood, and also from “Mom on the Spectrum.” She has two videos on autism and friendship. I could identify with much of what she talked about in terms of not understanding what people expect from relationships or how to communicate in ways that are understood from both sides. However, I think much of what was said could apply to most anyone who is an introvert or highly sensitive person: hating small talk, wanting deeper conversations and perhaps going too deep too fast, finding group settings draining as you try to understand and navigate varying expectations, etc. Taking such videos at face value, and realizing that many may be coming from self-diagnosed autistics, one might conclude that the spectrum is incredibly wide. I think it is indeed wider than many people realize, because of the stereotypes that are prevalent in society (think Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory). I believe there is value in the “neurodiversity” conversation, and that we should stop thinking in terms of “normal” and “abnormal.” But that's kind of a tangential issue. 

As I’ve said before, I think most people in modern society could use training in how to develop real relationships and communicate better. We’ve become so tech-driven and socially-distanced that all relationships are suffering. Chatting at the coffee pot or making plans to spend quality time with people outside our nuclear family have become exceptions rather than the rule. Those of us who are introverts, have social anxiety, and/or are unmarried are finding it harder and harder to connect with people, and many of us are suffering from loneliness in our isolation.

One of the issues I have is trying to figure out how to ask people for the relational interaction I want and need. I think this is particularly hard in church relationships because we’re constantly being told “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:3-4). I’ve always taken that to mean: never ask for help, never intrude on anyone else’s time and space, just do your job to serve other people and don’t expect anything in return. However, I would note a couple things:

1) Paul said “look not only to his own interests.” He didn’t say “Ignore your own interests.” Stewarding your time, energy, and relationships well shouldn’t have to mean burning out because you’ve given all you can and no one is feeding back into your life. Jesus quoted from Isaiah 42, “a bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not quench” (Matt. 12:20). When we are bruised and depleted, we need people who will help to hold us up. What we don’t need is another command to “think about others first.” (I hate the acronym “Jesus-Others-You,” and the way sayings like that are often used to shame people into serving others.) While I do think some of the conversations about “self-care” often turn into selfishness, we need to reframe the issues. Some authors have framed it this way: the choice is not just between selfishness and selflessness, but also includes self-awareness. Which brings me to my second observation:

2) We are all at different places in our daily walk with God. Some are experiencing times of weakness, while others are in times of strength. Some are great encouragers, others are great leaders, and others are great at serving others. Some currently have many demands on their time and energy, while others have more freedom, and some people simply have more energy to begin with. And some people find relationships easier to navigate than others do. There is no single standard for what loving and serving one another should look like. And that’s why we belong to the Body of Christ, where all our gifts, abilities, and personalities should come together and we “encourage one another and build one another up” (1 Thess. 5:11), each in our unique ways. Looking to the interests of others ought to mean “What do I currently have to contribute and how might that benefit a particular person or group? And where am I weak that I need others to help and support me right now?”

Admittedly, our perceptions of our own wants and needs can be tainted by sin, but that doesn’t mean we totally ignore our feelings of weakness and depletion. We are human beings who are made to need one another, not automatons that can run continuously without recharging. I would suggest that this misperception is a prime factor in pastoral burnout as well as people leaving the church. True, church is not “all about me,” but I am one of the “one anothers” who needs the church just as much as it needs me.

“In [Christ] the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In Him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit” (Eph. 2:21-22).

© 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.

Wrong Way

“There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing” (Prov. 12:18).

I screwed up. I used rash, sarcastic words instead of loving, gracious words. I expressed my hurt and frustration in ways that hurt others. What I might have said instead in this particular situation— “I miss seeing the people I love and talking to them on a regular basis… I don’t like feeling invisible to those around me… I’m tired of feeling lonely but I don’t know how to connect with busy people…”

Feeling distant and unseen, my words only created greater distance. Feeling insecure, my words created greater insecurity. Feeling like I was on the outside looking in, my words only built the wall higher. Feeling confused about the state of the relationship, my words only made it more unclear.

Being Christian doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes or that we don’t need to keep learning. But it does mean we need to face our mistakes and reconcile relationships. As this TGC article, “Battling Sinful Sarcasm” points out, our words can either hurt or heal, and we need to learn to evaluate them before they come out of our mouths or fingertips. Perhaps if I’d read this article when it came out 10 years ago, I wouldn’t have had to learn the lesson the hard way.

In a world of instant communication, where the rule is “post while it’s hot,” and where snark reigns supreme, it’s easy to forget that other people may not perceive things the way they are intended. And that kind of lazy communication has infiltrated verbal interactions as well. I’ll admit I’m not good at figuring out what other people are thinking, but now I see better that I can’t assume that they can read me either. It seems to me that most everyone needs training in interpersonal communication, and perhaps especially so in the church where we are to follow Scriptural commands such as:

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person” (Col. 4:6).

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Eph. 4:29).

On the Ephesians verse, in the past I always thought of “corrupting talk” as referring to language that uses God’s name in vain or intentionally leads others into sin and condemnation. The Greek word can also be translated rotten, worthless, or useless. Most of the other places where it is used in the New Testament are Jesus’ references to bad fruit (Matt. 7:17-18 et al). Anything that bears bad fruit is corrupting God’s design for His world and His people. Our words are to build up, not tear down. They are to be full of grace and truth, not barbs and innuendo. They are to reflect how much we love one another.

In the devotional book Take Heart by David Powlison, the reading for April 20 includes this prayer:

“Our Father, please have mercy on us. We live so carelessly… Let us take seriously the delightful call of Christ, calling us out of darkness into light. Let us embrace your call in ways that are life rearranging, the call that we would become men and women who contribute to the quantum of light in the dark world, and don’t just bumble along as one more person stumbling through the darkness.”

“He who loves purity of heart, and whose speech is gracious, will have the king as his friend” (Prov. 22:11).

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Here’s a related post I wrote last year: https://mental3degree.blogspot.com/2022/08/fully-present.html

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© 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.