Genesis 1.1-4 (ESV)
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. And God saw that the light was good.
Pastor Henry G. Brinton, as quoted by Al Mohler on his blog, "sees no contradiction in accepting that humans are the product of evolution and believing that God decided evolution would be the method by which humans would be created." This sounds perfectly reasonable in many ways, and is a common way that Christians (including me) have reconciled the creation story of Genesis and evolutionary theory. Dr. Mohler brings up a very important point, though. He writes, "the mainstream doctrine of evolution denies that evolution can have any fixed goal at all. Nothing had to happen... We can eliminate the conflict between evolution and Christianity if we redefine God to be something far less than the Creator he reveals himself to be in Genesis."
Many Christians (again, including myself) have said that the Bible reveals why all things were created, and that science has discovered that evolution is how this was accomplished. But the issue of purpose that Dr. Mohler brings up points at a problem with that dichotomy. Is the universe a blind assortment of collisions whose "purpose" only appears when certain patterns of collisions become imperfectly self-perpetuating? The point is that if we say that naturalistic evolution explains the "how" of our existence, is there any point in looking to any religion for a "why"? Naturalistic evolution tells us that we are here by random chance or, worse, by an exceptionally complex but unyielding mechanical process. Scientific observation, models, theories, and predictions can be very useful and are a way that God has enabled us to "fill the earth and subdue it," (Genesis 1.28) making it a better place to live in many ways. But how can we speak of any purpose, any right or wrong, if we are just lucky to be here in the form we are in? There is a conflict between two "truths," so one of them must not be true.
G.K Chesterton speaks of the necessity of a fixed ideal or goal to guide progress in the chapter "The Eternal Revolution" in Orthodoxy. He says that naturally evolving systems have no goal in mind, but only immediate perpetuation or aimless drift in current conditions. (Keep reading in Genesis to find out about the perfection Chesterton speaks of Adam seeing.)
"At any instant you may strike a blow for the perfection which no man has seen since Adam. No unchanging custom, no changing evolution can make the original good any thing but good. Man may have had concubines as long as cows have had horns: still they are not a part of him if they are sinful. Men may have been under oppression ever since fish were under water;still they ought not to be, if oppression is sinful. The chain may seem as natural to the slave, or the paint to the harlot, as does the plume to the bird or the burrow to the fox; still they are not, if they are sinful."
How can we "strike a blow," how can we take a stand that something must change because it is wrong, if our only measure of right and wrong is the consensus of most people this moment? Even worse is the view that some people are somehow more "ethically advanced" and that their ethics should guide the rest of us. How do you evaluate advancement if there is no standard for comparison? And if there is a standard, why would I want to conform to a more or less advanced example of the standard when I should strive to bring myself to the ideal standard itself?
I have no grand summary statement about evolution as a result of this thinking. All I know for sure is that ultimately, nature (God's general revelation about himself, as described in Romans 1.19-20) and the Bible (God's specific and progressive revelation about himself through history) must agree. If one thing is clear in the Bible, it is that God has a purpose for this universe he created. We are here to show how great, loving, powerful, holy, forgiving, etc., he is. We are here to respond to God because of who he is. Clearly random chance is eliminated as a method of our creation, but so is mechanical predetermination, because no response would then be genuine but only preprogrammed. How will this truth be ultimately shown by science in its study of nature? I don't know. There have been attempts recently, but there is more study to be done before the two can be fully reconciled.
God, open the eyes of the human race to see how nature points us to your eternal power and divine nature. Please don't let us be distracted by our study of your vast creation to think that the physical world is the ultimate reality. Thank you that as vast as the universe is, your love and holiness are so amazing that an eternity will be required to explore them. Thank you, Jesus, for taking the form of a finite man to usher me in to your loving purpose for me!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Good to be judged?
Luke 22.67-69 (ESV)
"If you are the Christ, tell us." But he said to them, "If I tell you, you will not believe, and if I ask you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God."
Psalm 110.1 (ESV)
The LORD says to my Lord: "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool."
This Sunday, my senior pastor taught from the story of Jesus' trial and condemnation to death from the Gospel of Luke (spanning parts of chapters 22 and 23). It is heavy material, as we consider how the guiltless perfect God-man approached his death which was to pay the penalty for our individual and corporate wrongdoing. The joy of the Gospel, even in this somber remembrance, is that I am now able to enjoy restored relationship with God because of Jesus' perfect obedience.
But that happy ending was not on display in the passage we read Sunday. Instead, I saw again the ways in which Jesus was unjustly judged. As the rulers of the people questioned and judged Jesus, his response was simply, "from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God." He called their attention to the words of Psalm 110, in which the Lord executes judgement on the whole world for failing in innumerable ways to live up to his holy standard. Jesus had asserted that he would be the one with final judgement of them, not the other way around. His assertion did not quell their anger, however. It only fueled their determination to see him dead.
The concluding remarks of the message so impacted me that I have listened to them many times (via my church's sermon blog) since then.
Was there any justice in Jerusalem the day Christ was tried? Was there any justice? Is there any justice in America, where wealth can acquit and the color of your skin can condemn? Is there any justice? This chapter reveals a horrific corruption of justice. The most serious. For the innocent one, the Son of God, Christ, God's King was not convicted but sent to death; declared innocent yet given the worst possible execution. Sometimes human courts work. Never perfectly. We need Christ. We need the King. We should be saying, "Jesus, come. Come, Lord Jesus. Come to us. Come bring your judgements."
Up until this point, I thought I was right with him. We do not have perfect justice on the earth, but Jesus can bring it. I was enthusiastic to see the innocent go free and to see those evildoers get what they deserve. But his next statement stopped my vague self-righteous reverie...
See, we need his judgements. Because when he tries you, he finds out what's right and true. He sees it all. He never gets the evidence wrong. He establishes a perfect law. He it applies it flawlessly. And so, we need to submit to this judge.
Wait! No! I want Jesus to come and release me, not judge me! I want him to bring low those I see as haughty so that I, his humble disciple, can live joyously with him! The last question he asked only made me squirm more...
Do you put Jesus on trial? Do you judge him? ... Or do you let him judge you and out of worship submit to him as the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords?
Again, my heart dropped. Do I invite God, the perfect holy one, to judge me? Do I look stupid to you? But he is right to call us to let Jesus judge us.
I do wrong and I sin in small and large ways. There are sins in my past of which I am and in some ways should be ashamed. I cannot expect to enjoy God's good gifts while I carry and continue to sin that earns his wrath. But I and my sins have already been judged and punished, and I must continue to invite Christ's judgement on me. Jesus Christ was deemed innocent by human courts and by God the Father, but he accepted the humanly incomprehensible sentence for my guilt. Only when I accept what God says about my sin in the Bible (that all my wrongdoing, even the most "trivial" rebellion against his desire for me, adds up to a mountain of evidence demanding my condemnation to eternal punishment) can I also receive the good things he promises to those who live rightly.
So, I pray that God will give me the courage to invite his judgement of me, so that I will be able to stand with joy that only increases the more I see how much of me he has judged and how much wrath Jesus prepared to take from me as he dragged himself up the hill where his cross stood waiting.
"If you are the Christ, tell us." But he said to them, "If I tell you, you will not believe, and if I ask you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God."
Psalm 110.1 (ESV)
The LORD says to my Lord: "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool."
This Sunday, my senior pastor taught from the story of Jesus' trial and condemnation to death from the Gospel of Luke (spanning parts of chapters 22 and 23). It is heavy material, as we consider how the guiltless perfect God-man approached his death which was to pay the penalty for our individual and corporate wrongdoing. The joy of the Gospel, even in this somber remembrance, is that I am now able to enjoy restored relationship with God because of Jesus' perfect obedience.
But that happy ending was not on display in the passage we read Sunday. Instead, I saw again the ways in which Jesus was unjustly judged. As the rulers of the people questioned and judged Jesus, his response was simply, "from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God." He called their attention to the words of Psalm 110, in which the Lord executes judgement on the whole world for failing in innumerable ways to live up to his holy standard. Jesus had asserted that he would be the one with final judgement of them, not the other way around. His assertion did not quell their anger, however. It only fueled their determination to see him dead.
The concluding remarks of the message so impacted me that I have listened to them many times (via my church's sermon blog) since then.
Was there any justice in Jerusalem the day Christ was tried? Was there any justice? Is there any justice in America, where wealth can acquit and the color of your skin can condemn? Is there any justice? This chapter reveals a horrific corruption of justice. The most serious. For the innocent one, the Son of God, Christ, God's King was not convicted but sent to death; declared innocent yet given the worst possible execution. Sometimes human courts work. Never perfectly. We need Christ. We need the King. We should be saying, "Jesus, come. Come, Lord Jesus. Come to us. Come bring your judgements."
Up until this point, I thought I was right with him. We do not have perfect justice on the earth, but Jesus can bring it. I was enthusiastic to see the innocent go free and to see those evildoers get what they deserve. But his next statement stopped my vague self-righteous reverie...
See, we need his judgements. Because when he tries you, he finds out what's right and true. He sees it all. He never gets the evidence wrong. He establishes a perfect law. He it applies it flawlessly. And so, we need to submit to this judge.
Wait! No! I want Jesus to come and release me, not judge me! I want him to bring low those I see as haughty so that I, his humble disciple, can live joyously with him! The last question he asked only made me squirm more...
Do you put Jesus on trial? Do you judge him? ... Or do you let him judge you and out of worship submit to him as the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords?
Again, my heart dropped. Do I invite God, the perfect holy one, to judge me? Do I look stupid to you? But he is right to call us to let Jesus judge us.
I do wrong and I sin in small and large ways. There are sins in my past of which I am and in some ways should be ashamed. I cannot expect to enjoy God's good gifts while I carry and continue to sin that earns his wrath. But I and my sins have already been judged and punished, and I must continue to invite Christ's judgement on me. Jesus Christ was deemed innocent by human courts and by God the Father, but he accepted the humanly incomprehensible sentence for my guilt. Only when I accept what God says about my sin in the Bible (that all my wrongdoing, even the most "trivial" rebellion against his desire for me, adds up to a mountain of evidence demanding my condemnation to eternal punishment) can I also receive the good things he promises to those who live rightly.
So, I pray that God will give me the courage to invite his judgement of me, so that I will be able to stand with joy that only increases the more I see how much of me he has judged and how much wrath Jesus prepared to take from me as he dragged himself up the hill where his cross stood waiting.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
My Home
Revelation 21.18, 22.1-2 (ESV)
The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, clear as glass.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
On the North shore of Long Island, near the town of Riverhead, there is a place that has maintained a hold on my heart for most of my life. For hundreds of years, until several years ago, a plot of land and beach had been owned by one of my ancestors. My grandmother helped her father build a small bungalow at the top of a cliff overlooking the Sound, then it was passed to my aunt and uncle, and they expanded the home considerably. I spent at least a week staying there every summer since before I could remember. Nearby, "the farm" was my grandmother's birthplace, not to mention the generations preceding her. The time spent in this place was wonderful not just because of the family members I got to know, the lazy vacation days, and the adventures fishing, water skiing, and sailing.
Especially after my family moved during middle school, I became aware that this area, called Penny's Landing, felt more like home than any other spot on the planet. When I occasionally return, I am reminded that the farmers, mechanics, and local folks are somehow connected to me as family or as family friends. I loved knowing that there was a place where I had firm roots of love and genetics. It was comforting.
But, several years ago, a divorce resulted in the loss of both the farm and the land on the Sound from our family. The "bungalow" on the cliff was sold because the property taxes and upkeep were impossible to pay after the split. I passed through the stages of grief -- disbelief, anger, pleading, acceptance... but sometimes when I saw photographs of the place, I would have to fight a sting of tears and a pang of longing for this taproot had been cut from me and from our family.
Earlier this summer, I saw one of these pictures and felt the pang again. The scene was beautiful, and I wanted to reach out to smell the wild roses growing at the top of the cliff, see the pines swaying in a light breeze, hear the soft, quick footfalls of the waves on the pebbly beach, and watch the ships sail past in far-off slow motion. I began telling a friend about how special that place was to me, but then God gently opened my eyes to see my Home in a way I had not seen it before.
I knew that since I had been ransomed from my dead slavery to rebellion against God, my ultimate destination was Heaven. I could even have spoken to you of the importance of my citizenship in Kingdom of Heaven. But I will always remember the clear impression that God gave to me as I was immersed in the photograph. My Home is not on this earth, no matter how many centuries I can trace my ancestry in a particular spot. Yes, that place may be beautiful and special, and it is good to have such a place. But one day, all of it will fade into oblivion and cease to be, but I will be Home. My hope in this life is not tied to the fate of a few acres of land, because even the largest, most solid rock on that North shore beach -- which had been used as a landmark for landing parties in the Revolutionary War and uncounted others before -- even that rock that has stood the test of time will not stand the test of eternity.
Now, whenever I think of Long Island, its beaches, potato farms, and tightly knit families, I am reminded that the connection I have to that place is only a dim shadow of the way that I am being inexorably drawn to the Heavenly city described in the Bible. There, the River of Life will flow, watering trees that bear life-giving fruit. I will walk the streets that I cannot even imagine fully. The Bible can only describe them as gold that is so pure as to be transparent.
Why does it matter that Heaven, not Penny's Landing, is my home? For one thing, my true home is secure. No amount of war, hate, greed, or pain can take it away. I can live the life I am called to live here on Earth, depending on God for the wisdom and strength to bring him glory, and not worrying about my future. My true home is also a home with room and incomparable joy for more people than I can imagine. I want to be a part of seeing more people trust in Jesus' sacrifice for our sins, so that we can all enjoy the indescribable reward that he has earned us -- living in perfected and ever-increasing fellowship with him.
As a man once bound for judgement and a spiritual death beyond imagining, I am and should be increasingly thankful for the free gift of life that you, my God, have bestowed on me! Teach me, guide me, and discipline me in this life so that I will increasingly live a life that points toward your amazing grace that has made me your own son.
The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, clear as glass.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
On the North shore of Long Island, near the town of Riverhead, there is a place that has maintained a hold on my heart for most of my life. For hundreds of years, until several years ago, a plot of land and beach had been owned by one of my ancestors. My grandmother helped her father build a small bungalow at the top of a cliff overlooking the Sound, then it was passed to my aunt and uncle, and they expanded the home considerably. I spent at least a week staying there every summer since before I could remember. Nearby, "the farm" was my grandmother's birthplace, not to mention the generations preceding her. The time spent in this place was wonderful not just because of the family members I got to know, the lazy vacation days, and the adventures fishing, water skiing, and sailing.
Especially after my family moved during middle school, I became aware that this area, called Penny's Landing, felt more like home than any other spot on the planet. When I occasionally return, I am reminded that the farmers, mechanics, and local folks are somehow connected to me as family or as family friends. I loved knowing that there was a place where I had firm roots of love and genetics. It was comforting.
But, several years ago, a divorce resulted in the loss of both the farm and the land on the Sound from our family. The "bungalow" on the cliff was sold because the property taxes and upkeep were impossible to pay after the split. I passed through the stages of grief -- disbelief, anger, pleading, acceptance... but sometimes when I saw photographs of the place, I would have to fight a sting of tears and a pang of longing for this taproot had been cut from me and from our family.
Earlier this summer, I saw one of these pictures and felt the pang again. The scene was beautiful, and I wanted to reach out to smell the wild roses growing at the top of the cliff, see the pines swaying in a light breeze, hear the soft, quick footfalls of the waves on the pebbly beach, and watch the ships sail past in far-off slow motion. I began telling a friend about how special that place was to me, but then God gently opened my eyes to see my Home in a way I had not seen it before.
I knew that since I had been ransomed from my dead slavery to rebellion against God, my ultimate destination was Heaven. I could even have spoken to you of the importance of my citizenship in Kingdom of Heaven. But I will always remember the clear impression that God gave to me as I was immersed in the photograph. My Home is not on this earth, no matter how many centuries I can trace my ancestry in a particular spot. Yes, that place may be beautiful and special, and it is good to have such a place. But one day, all of it will fade into oblivion and cease to be, but I will be Home. My hope in this life is not tied to the fate of a few acres of land, because even the largest, most solid rock on that North shore beach -- which had been used as a landmark for landing parties in the Revolutionary War and uncounted others before -- even that rock that has stood the test of time will not stand the test of eternity.
Now, whenever I think of Long Island, its beaches, potato farms, and tightly knit families, I am reminded that the connection I have to that place is only a dim shadow of the way that I am being inexorably drawn to the Heavenly city described in the Bible. There, the River of Life will flow, watering trees that bear life-giving fruit. I will walk the streets that I cannot even imagine fully. The Bible can only describe them as gold that is so pure as to be transparent.
Why does it matter that Heaven, not Penny's Landing, is my home? For one thing, my true home is secure. No amount of war, hate, greed, or pain can take it away. I can live the life I am called to live here on Earth, depending on God for the wisdom and strength to bring him glory, and not worrying about my future. My true home is also a home with room and incomparable joy for more people than I can imagine. I want to be a part of seeing more people trust in Jesus' sacrifice for our sins, so that we can all enjoy the indescribable reward that he has earned us -- living in perfected and ever-increasing fellowship with him.
As a man once bound for judgement and a spiritual death beyond imagining, I am and should be increasingly thankful for the free gift of life that you, my God, have bestowed on me! Teach me, guide me, and discipline me in this life so that I will increasingly live a life that points toward your amazing grace that has made me your own son.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Jesus, Einstein, and Paul
Luke 6.20-21 (ESV)
And he [Jesus] lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God
"Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh."
This is how Jesus began his first sermon recorded in Luke's Gospel. He says elsewhere that he has come to help the sick rather than those who are well, and that he will preach the gospel to the poor while the rich will find it almost impossible to enter Heaven.
He presents me, and all of us, with a challenge. Will I rely on my own abilities to provide material stability and meaning to my life? Or will I recognize that all my riches are utterly worthless? I had always been told as a child how humble and kind and good and smart I was. The trouble was, I bought it! Instead of helping, the thought that I was good all on my own kept me from putting my complete trust in Jesus' saving work for me until my Junior year of high school. I have come to see that most of what people saw as my goodness was only my own pride that sought their approval above the approval of God. God's blessing, as Jesus said in his sermon, comes to those who are poor and hungry and who weep over their own brokenness.
So I can identify with Albert Einstein who wrote in a newly publicized letter,
On the other hand, I love the example of the apostle Paul. He penned many of the letters that are now part of the New Testament of the Bible. He had been intelligent, ambitious, and well respected among those opposed to Jesus and his disciples. But Jesus grabbed him and turned him around (you can read the story, including his name change from Saul, of in Acts 9). In his letter to the church in Philippi, Paul recounted all the things he had going for him, then made the most remarkable statement, "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ." (Philippians 3.7)
I thank God that he has enabled me to follow Paul's example rather than Einstein's by capturing me with the grace earned for me by Jesus' death and resurrection. And I pray he will do the same for you.
And he [Jesus] lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said:
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh."
This is how Jesus began his first sermon recorded in Luke's Gospel. He says elsewhere that he has come to help the sick rather than those who are well, and that he will preach the gospel to the poor while the rich will find it almost impossible to enter Heaven.
He presents me, and all of us, with a challenge. Will I rely on my own abilities to provide material stability and meaning to my life? Or will I recognize that all my riches are utterly worthless? I had always been told as a child how humble and kind and good and smart I was. The trouble was, I bought it! Instead of helping, the thought that I was good all on my own kept me from putting my complete trust in Jesus' saving work for me until my Junior year of high school. I have come to see that most of what people saw as my goodness was only my own pride that sought their approval above the approval of God. God's blessing, as Jesus said in his sermon, comes to those who are poor and hungry and who weep over their own brokenness.
So I can identify with Albert Einstein who wrote in a newly publicized letter,
On the other hand, I love the example of the apostle Paul. He penned many of the letters that are now part of the New Testament of the Bible. He had been intelligent, ambitious, and well respected among those opposed to Jesus and his disciples. But Jesus grabbed him and turned him around (you can read the story, including his name change from Saul, of in Acts 9). In his letter to the church in Philippi, Paul recounted all the things he had going for him, then made the most remarkable statement, "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ." (Philippians 3.7)
I thank God that he has enabled me to follow Paul's example rather than Einstein's by capturing me with the grace earned for me by Jesus' death and resurrection. And I pray he will do the same for you.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Following my Father
My son is almost 1 year old, and he often mimics what my wife and I do. Sometimes, this is good, or just adorable. But sometimes I do things I would not want him to mimic. I was reminded on Sunday of my heavenly Father's perfect actions and how I should be sure to follow his lead, not depending on my own strength or following other teachers. . .
Luke 6.35
But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.
This was the core of the passage my pastor taught from this Sunday. (The whole passage was Luke 6.17-49.) This message left me reeling from a change in perspective that God brought to me through it. Earlier in the passage, Jesus says,"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. . . But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation." (Luke 6.20, 24) At the beginning of the message, I was feeling quite rich in my own righteousness. I read the Bible every day, I pray, I even write a blog about God's words and work. But I am spiritually poor. I have nothing good of my own to bring to God, and I can't even satisfy my own needs with my own work.
I am not doing fine when I see the commands in this passage and try to fulfill them myself. That foolishly building my house on sand (Luke 6.49). But I am "blessed" and counted as a "son of the most high" when I recognize my abject poverty and allow it to drive me to depend on God's grace. Then, the things I do are out of imitation of the God who loves me and does good to me even when I rebel against his loving actions. I will treat others they way I ought to, with the sacrificial love of Jesus. And the house that rises is not a shack that washes away in the rain, but a strong shelter built on the foundation of Jesus' work. He perfectly did all that he preached in this passage, and when I accept his righteousness in trade for my own spiritual poverty, I am rich and well fed and filled with joy greater than any that I could ever obtain for myself!
Thank you, God, for again revealing my poverty and causing me to mourn my brokenness and hunger for your wholeness. Please keep reminding me that only you can bring me riches, nourishment, and joy that have no equal.
Luke 6.35
This was the core of the passage my pastor taught from this Sunday. (The whole passage was Luke 6.17-49.) This message left me reeling from a change in perspective that God brought to me through it. Earlier in the passage, Jesus says,
I am not doing fine when I see the commands in this passage and try to fulfill them myself. That foolishly building my house on sand (Luke 6.49). But I am "blessed" and counted as a "son of the most high" when I recognize my abject poverty and allow it to drive me to depend on God's grace. Then, the things I do are out of imitation of the God who loves me and does good to me even when I rebel against his loving actions. I will treat others they way I ought to, with the sacrificial love of Jesus. And the house that rises is not a shack that washes away in the rain, but a strong shelter built on the foundation of Jesus' work. He perfectly did all that he preached in this passage, and when I accept his righteousness in trade for my own spiritual poverty, I am rich and well fed and filled with joy greater than any that I could ever obtain for myself!
Thank you, God, for again revealing my poverty and causing me to mourn my brokenness and hunger for your wholeness. Please keep reminding me that only you can bring me riches, nourishment, and joy that have no equal.
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Price of the Priceless Treasure
"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
One way to read these two analogies made by Jesus is to suppose that, like these two men, Christians are somehow privy to secret information, which we are to keep from others while we make personal sacrifices to buy our way into God's favor. But nothing could be further from the truth!
It is so easy to live as though my actions will control God's opinion of me, or earn me a place in heaven, or can make me more or less qualified for God's help in this life. People will say, "God helps those who help themselves," and sometimes I live as though it were true! When push comes to shove, I tend to retreat into my own world where my education, intelligence, and physical ability are enough to meet the demands on me. I somehow think that if I am strong enough, I can honor God. Or, more honestly, I think that I am better of bringing myself honor by working harder.
Instead, God has been good to remind me of the example of Paul when he wrote to the church in Philippi (Philippians 3.7-8): "
God, please kill the pride in me that holds on to "my abilities" as something valuable. Teach me instead to lean only on your grace and on your work that reconciles me to you and makes all other things I have and pursue look as worthless as they truly are!
Monday, April 28, 2008
My opened eyes and ears
But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.
How often and easily I forget how blessed I am! The words Jesus spoke to his disciples was in response to their question why he taught using parables -- allegories whose meaning was so obscured to human minds that even Jesus' closest disciples had to ask for explanation. Jesus used the question to show the disciples that they were recipients of God's undeserved favor. Unlike so many contemporaries and ancestors, they saw Jesus, the promised Savior who had been foretold for thousands of years! They even understood Jesus' teaching and were able to apply it, but only because God had acted on them to open the spiritual eyes and ears they had willfully shut!
Today, I was having a renewed struggle with myself, reflexively and angrily defending my ability (pretty near perfect, I'd say!) in the face of criticism. I am nowhere near perfect. Only my God and Savior can claim that. But when I am facing a challenge, my human nature wants to rise up with pride in my accomplishments. Of course, when that fails, that same pride is broken and I feel crushed.
What foolishness! When I read God's word like the passage above, I am at once laid low in utter humility and lifted up by confidence in the God who did not leave me in my self-sufficient, prideful rejection of him. My God became like me, but he succeeded in all the ways I have failed. Then he took on himself the death that was the penalty for my rebellion and credited his perfection to my account!
Lord Jesus, by your Spirit, help me to live in your life, not the dead ways from which you have rescued me. Remind me again and again of your perfection that you earned for me and my rottenness from which you ransomed me. Teach me to love others and accept humbly their criticism, because I know I am guilty of far worse than anything they can accuse me of, and because I know that in my weakness your strength shines more brightly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)