A Grateful Goodbye

Less than an hour ago I had my beloved dog, Coco, of almost 12 years, put to sleep. It was a normal morning until about 6:30 today when she came up to me breathing differently and acting very lethargic. I took her to the vet and then the vet ER, which diagnosed a bleed around her heart, probably due to tumor. The odds of repair were low and with her age, it was time to say goodbye. I got to hold her as she took her final breath.

About a year ago, she had some issues with her back legs which ended up being age-related, but it was a good scare and one that made me realize that time was short and I needed to maximize whatever time I had left with her. One of my (mostly) daily disciplines is a gratitude list and frequently one of the items has been her. How grateful I have been to have a dog and to enjoy and learn about God through the experience. One of my prayers has been to know when it was time and to let go with gratitude. And I did. I had the time before the injection to pray and thank God for the time with her, for how much He has taught me about Himself through her, and to gratefully thank Him for all of His goodness to me through the life of my beloved Coco. What a great gift of God! How marvelous and gracious of Him to give me such a long time with her! And I've had even more time with her in the last two months since work has been entirely work from home and school is online only, due to the virus.

Saying goodbye is tough. I've already cried my eyes out this morning and will do for a while. But it is a grateful goodbye. While I hurt, my heart expresses thankfulness for the ability to experience the joy of having a great dog. God made the dog family to relate to humans in a special way. How good of a Creator He is to make such things. It hurts to let go, but He is the source and author of all creation--she was made by Him and was but a passing shadow of His beauty and loveliness. How creative He is! How delightful He is! How loud He is! How fun He is!

I am truly grateful.

The Bad and Good Friday

Yesterday was Good Friday. It is an ironic name for a day, given the event on this day that transpired almost two-thousand years ago for which we name it--the crucifixion and death of the Son of God for the sins of the world. It started the night before, with an arrest and unjust hearing for the purpose of condemning an innocent man. It continued on Friday with the formal trial before Pilate, a Roman flogging, and finally, the brutal crucifixion of Jesus Christ outside of Jerusalem. It ended with his death and burial in an unused tomb provided by Joseph of Arimathea.

The bad. The condemnation, punishment, and death of an innocent man. The violent hatred of men against him. The bloody torture and agony as the hours passed. The emotional pain and anguish of those who loved him and watched as he suffered. The separation from God as he bore the sins of the world. Death. Darkness. Earthquake. What is good about any of this?

What we see in Jesus Christ is the ultimate example in which God is able to take what is awful and bring good from it. We call it good Friday because the perfect Son of God, in taking the punishment that each of our sins demanded, has now made a way that we might share his righteousness. Because of his faithfulness, my faithlessness is covered. Because of his obedience, my rebellion is forgiven. Because of his death, I am given life.

You can think of the cross of Christ as the "black hole" for sin's penalty. As Jesus breathed his last, he had finally and fully drank every last molecule of the penalty for all sin, for all time, once for all. Everything had been pulled into him and been borne by him. There is no more condemnation because he has taken all of the condemnation on himself. We are freed from the certainty of facing our own eternal crucifixions because of his one crucifixion.

Good Friday is good because of what awaits us tomorrow. He does not remain in the grave. How could he? Those who condemned him--the religious leaders, soldiers, Pilate, and the people--their word was "crucify him." His word was, "It is finished." Tomorrow, we get to rejoice in overwhelming celebration at the final word: the word of the Father. The resurrection is the vindication of the Son by the Father. The Father stands up from His throne, declares for all of heaven and earth to see and hear, "You are my Son, today I have begotten you!"

Honor those in authority

I live in Dallas County, Texas, where there is both county-wide 'stay-home' and state-wide essential-business-only orders. These are based on recommendations from the Federal government and the health professionals that these leaders are consulting. The orders are specific. I don't like them. I disagree with the reasoning behind them. I think they are far too strong a reaction, and more importantly, far too damaging economically. I think they are made in error and based on faulty, or more likely, fearful reasoning.

Yet, I do not find any of the above to be a sufficient Biblical reason to disobey. Indeed, Jesus preached under Tiberius, one of the most corrupt of the Caesars, Paul and Peter wrote under Nero, who later would put both of them to death. Paul tells me I am to submit to the governing authorities (Romans 13), Peter tells me I am to honor the king (1 Peter 2), and Jesus tells me I am to render to Caesar what belongs to Caesar (Luke 20). Honor and obedience is not given because they are earned or deserved, but to be given because they are owed and due. Despite the (lack of) reasonableness of the authority or whether I agree/disagree with the rule. I am not free to bend it or twist it to my own liking. I do what I can to honor the king, as long as doing so does not dishonor the Great King. And if I must disobey the king because of a conflict in commands, then I must accept the discipline of the king with humility.

I do not find any Biblical conflict with the current orders of Dallas County or Texas. Churches are broadcasting services online--this is a far cry from ideal, but these orders are not permanent (to date fewer than three weeks have passed and the current expiration is April 30, which is less than seven weeks in total). I can still meet friends at a park or open area, as long as appropriate social distancing is maintained. Going to the store, doing essential errands, taking walks--all of these are allowed. I have food, shelter, clothing--in truth, more than I need. The electronic capabilities of today allow me to connect with people in far greater numbers and distances than ever before. Sure, electronic means are unsatisfying (after all, we are made to be physical beings), but this is temporary. It will pass.

I don't like these orders. Just like there are certain commands of God that I don't like and would prefer to disobey (and to my condemnation, have many times). But authority is grounded in Him and it is my responsibly to honor the authorities in my life, be they parents, police, physicians, employers, or politicians. I'll seek to promote better choices and reasoning, but when the decision is made, I must submit to it.

This will soon pass. But as the orders stand today, I must obey them.

Update: You can contact your representative/senator/governor/president and let them know you disagree. Do so respectfully, but it is worth doing so. Your voice should be heard!

God is not (just) love

If, as the title provocatively suggests, one describes God as primarily love, then such a description of Him is not only incomplete but fails to accurately communicate Him as He has revealed Himself to us. And it creates enormous barriers for us to understand why He acts as He does.

Christianity in this century appears to have swung the pendulum into an extreme position where we almost entirely focus on and talk about God's attribute of love. Love is everywhere. God is love. Love, love, love. The most important thing you must believe about God is that He is love. And then we scratch our heads and can't understand large parts of the Bible and what they reveal to us about God because it sure doesn't seem like love!

May I suggest it is because we've made God into our own chosen image, an image that we want to see, an image that we want to worship, and an image we want to share, instead of Who He actually is? We want a God of love because that is tame and safe and friendly. We're kind of embarrassed at some of the things God did in the Bible. God needs a better sales strategy. Let's focus on love. All you need is love, right?

Except not.

Most (all?) of the time someone comes into the presence of God, their reaction is not warm fuzzies. It is terrifying, woe-is-me fear! This includes the "apostle of love", John, who when He sees Jesus (JESUS!), falls down as if he is a dead man in terror (Rev. 1:17-18)! And he's the "disciple whom Jesus loved," the guy who wrote that "God is love."

If we want to know God, we must accept Him as He has revealed Himself, not as we would have Him. God is all of His revealed attributes, all of the time, in all their fullness, in everything that He does, in their maximum perfection. He is holy, righteous, just, merciful, good, infinite, all-knowing, everywhere present, all-powerful, and love (to name a few). I will note that the seraphim around the throne of God do not sing "love, love, love, is the LORD God Almighty" day and night -- they sing "holy holy holy" (Isa. 6; Rev 4)! When we focus on one attribute of God to the detriment of the others, we fail to know Him and honor Him as God!

If a passage of Scripture doesn't seem to make sense, ask yourself if perhaps it is showing you a bigger God than you currently imagine, who is way more than just love.

The Grace of No

I am studying the book of 1 Corinthians with some friends and we discussed chapter 7 on Monday, which is on marriage and singleness. For a group of all singles, this can sometimes be a tough topic, especially when the desire for marriage is present, but years have gone without its fulfillment. I graduated college at 20 and fully expected to be married within a couple of years; now, in my upper 30s, I am still single, having never married, and am content with where I am at right now. Had you told me this when I was 20, I would have nearly died. Perhaps one reason God does not (usually) tell us the future is because we can't handle knowing it. I wouldn't have chosen this path in my 20s and certainly had no idea I'd be where I'm at today. God hasn't given me much of what I have asked for and I am better off because of it! He has spared me some catastrophic marriage choices that, while the breakup was painful, following through with the relationship would have been worse. I am incredibly grateful that He continued to say "No" despite my earnest pleading and crying. It is a reflection of His goodness that He has graciously said "No" and given me what I need, not what I wanted or thought I had to have.

Celebrate the grace of the "No" answers that God gives in your life, for His goodness is just as evident in those as it is in His "Yes" answers.

A Grace that Withholds

I was reflecting this morning on the first few verses in Ephesians and God's boundless grace. As I've thought about God's graciousness, I've realized that His grace is evident just as much in what He does not give as in what He gives. The Psalmist writes that "he does not treat us as our sins deserve" (Ps. 103:10). Jesus Christ paid the price and took the wrath of God upon Himself so we would not be the recipients of that wrath. There is so much to grace that is a withholding grace.

This is consistent with our experience in even the daily things we do. There are hundreds of things I withhold from my dog, not because I hate her, but because they are not good for her. In her perspective, I am probably quite a kill-joy at times, but saw blades and cigarette butts aren't good for her! Heck, she'd eat herself to death if given the chance!

For me personally, I can clearly see many things--jobs, relationships, activities, possessions--I thought I could not live without, and yet in hindsight, I am so grateful He did not give me what I thought I had to have. I am grateful He took it away. I am grateful His grace withheld.

Perhaps you can think of things that have been withheld or taken from you, that at the time seemed horrible, but now you are so thankful that He did take it from you. Grace gives--both in what we don't have and in removing what we don't need.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)

Fear

As a child, one of the reasons I was very bad at sports was that I was afraid of being hurt--being hit by the ball, being kicked, being injured, whatever. Unfortunately, this was consistent with my attitude towards most things: being afraid of them. I've noticed that my dog exhibits similar characteristics. She too is afraid. She is afraid of other dogs because she is afraid of being hurt (having been hurt a couple of times before by another dog). As I was walking her this morning, we came across another dog who was quite the gentle and sweet dog, but Coco would have none of this dog, for she was afraid. I felt sad because she is missing the freedom of having interaction with her own kind and the fun that can be for her.

My dad's response to my fear was usually anger, which, can I tell you, is really not a good way to get your child to not be afraid?! I went from being afraid of the thing to being afraid of both the thing and his reaction! I was thinking about it this morning as I watched my dog's fear, wondering what I could do to help her.

How does God respond to our fear? Does He get angry? Does He wash his hands and leave us on our own? Does He throw us in the deep end and wish us the best of luck? Exactly the opposite! I consistently see God telling His people that He is with them when He is exhorting them to not fear. For example, in Isaiah 41:10 God says "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you; surely I will uphold you by my righteous right hand." One thing to note is all of the spacial relationships in this one verse.

• I am with you - beside you (around you)
• I am your God - above you
• I will strengthen you; I will help you - in you
• I will uphold you - below you

Perhaps a better response to the fear in another is to enter into that fear with them. Be with them. Be beside them, helping them, supporting them, encouraging them, praying for them. I'm not really sure what this looks like in a parent/child relationship, since I am not a parent. But I might have one suggestion to start. Because my perspective and knowledge is significantly greater than my dog's, I need to be more understanding of her fear, recognizing her limited perspective. This is, I think, part of what it means to enter into the fear of another. With a child, one needs to work to remember (if possible) what it was like to be at that age, perhaps with those same fears. Put yourself in his or her shoes. It will go a long way toward understanding.

Some Turbulence May Occur

I just finished watching The Prince of Egypt, which is a 1998 animation of the story of Moses and the Exodus--the miraculous intervention of God to set the Jewish people free from their slavery in Egypt. Through the plagues, through the pillar of fire that stopped the Egyptian army while the people crossed the Red Sea, and the crossing of the Red Sea by splitting the waters in half, God's strength and power were evident.

As I watched the sea being split in the movie, I noticed there was a lot of fear in the faces of the people as they contemplated walking through the sea. No kidding! There are walls of water on both sides of you held up by One you can't see and you're just gonna trot on over to the other side with barely a thought?! You start to realize just how big God is! The disciples had the same experience when Jesus calmed the storm. Mark says that after Jesus calmed the storm, his disciples were "terrified" (4:41). The similarities and contrasts are interesting. In the Exodus, it took all night for the waters to be divided (Ex. 14:21); when Christ spoke, the storm stopped right then. In both stories, we see the power of God over water and wind, one visible, one invisible. In the former story, the people went through the water. In the latter, the disciples are in a boat on top of the water. Yet both feared death, the people of Israel from Pharaoh and his army, and the disciples from drowning. Moses was simply a representative of God, but Christ was the Word made flesh. In both, God controls the wind and water, one to blow strongly to separate, and the other to cease blowing to calm.

It can feel pretty rough and windy sometimes. Lately, it certainly has felt that way, as it seems like there is more terror, more partisanship, more division than in a while. It's easy to become disheartened and to feel hopeless. But God can use the wind or He can stop it. He can calm the storm or He can create one. He can still the waters or He can separate them. His call is still same: Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith? (Mark 4:40)

More of God, More of Me, Though I am not He

I am in the midst of taking Trinitarianism at Dallas Theological Seminary with Dr. Horrell and as I have been told by many sources, it has been magnificent thus far! It is a lot of material to take in and digest (and ultimately it is hardly being digested but mostly stored away for future thought or at least a vague recollection which can then encourage me to dig further into my notes) in a single week. One thing has stuck out to me in this second day that I wanted to share because it seems so antithetical to how we typically expect relationships to function.

In relationships, we sort of expect that to some extent we will “lose” ourselves in the other person, somehow change, become different, or at least, we feel the pressure to do so. This is actually an indicator of a poor or unhealthy relationship, not a good one. What I am seeing in reflecting on the Trinity and the Godhead – the beautiful mystery of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – is that true submission and love results in becoming more of who one truly is! The more I enter into the love of God, the more I submit myself to God, the more I actually become and embody – physically, emotionally, mentally – who I am made to be. In contrast to a pantheistic point of view where God sort of “takes me over”, in fact, in Christianity, God sets me free to become more real. And in an interesting way, we kind of “know” this is the case, because when you are in the “relationship” that is right, it is right because you are with a person who accepts you the way you are. The love of the other gives you greater freedom to be and enjoy you as you! That is love – loving the beloved as they are, not as we would try to manipulate them to be.

You may ask: “but doesn’t God expect us to change or to become more ‘Christlike’ or better?” Yes, but in the way one who actually loves the beloved would desire. You see, God sets us free from sin, which is the condition that is binding and preventative true freedom, and He provides us both the freedom and power (by His Spirit) to live more deeply and fully into our design, into how He’s made us. Satan (the Father of lies) would prefer that we live in bondage and in part, limping along with tiny bits of joy, scraps that only cause us to pursue things that can never satisfy. God wants us to live freely and true freedom in its fullest sense will mean loving Him in return – because He is the Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Lover of our soul. We won’t lose ourselves in the process – we will become more of ourselves, which in turn, gives Him more glory, praise, and honor!

A Salivating Dog and Impossible Understanding

My dog has something going on with her mouth right now, as she is salivating uncontrollably and dripping all over the place. Usually this is caused by picking something up with the mouth and there being a reaction to it, which may last for a couple of days. In some cases, it could be something in the mouth, which means one needs to investigate carefully all the corners of a dog's mouth. Needless to say, this is not a favorite activity of my dog!

When I go to the doctor with a sore throat, I open wide when he tells me to, and allow him to peer into the corners of my mouth as long as he needs, hoping he will diagnose the issue and a solution will quickly be recommended. This is because my level of comprehension is roughly similar to that of my doctor's. I have some understanding of cause/effect, I know that he is there to help me, and I should cooperate. But my dog knows none of this. She knows my fingers are probing around in her mouth, a flashlight is shining in her face as I look around in her watery mouth, and she doesn't like it! But I'm trying to see if there is anything that I can find as being the cause of her (and my) distress.

After taking a couple of philosophy courses last year, I have come to understand that there are some things that are impossible for God to do, not because he is somehow limited in His infinite power or weak, but simply because God does not contradict reality and there are things that simply are logically impossible. It is impossible for me to communicate to my dog the intention and heart behind my investigation of her salivation. I want what is best for her. I love her. I want to help her and find the source of her problem so I can do what needs to be done to correct it. I am not torturing her or in any way wanting to inflict discomfort or pain out of some perverse feeling. Yet I am limited -- I cannot communicate my intent to her. I cannot tell her why I am doing what I am doing. I must do what needs to be done, with gentleness and love, knowing that she will never understand. It sucks.

And this is I think something that occurs between God and humanity. We simply cannot understand what He is doing or why He is doing it. Please understand that if God were to make you understand His ways then you would cease to be you! And I'm not even sure it would be possible to understand His ways, as you'd need to be God, which God cannot create.

In addition, I love the fact that my dog is a dog! I wouldn't want to change her to be any more or less than she is. She is fun and brings joy and it is great to see her in all her doggie glory. And I think that God has wisely made us to be what we are--human and fallible--and will not change us, at least not without our consent (and thus why He is willing to allow people to perish). But such limitations come with limitations, some we grow out of, and others we simply continue in because of our nature. God certainly wants us to be conformed to the image of Christ, but I think He is far from interested in us becoming a completely different kind of thing, such as a turtle, or angel, or worse, demon.

One day God will fully transform me into one who can enjoy Him forever. However, while my sin will be removed, I will still be human and I think, still experience things He does that I do not understand. And that is ok, because love does not need full understanding to love.

Why Does God Delay

Why does God take so long to change me, especially when for months I’ve been crying out to Him, begging Him to change my heart, pleading with Him to touch and heal? I don’t understand the delay nor the purpose of it. So often, change happens all at once and then periods will go by where it seems like I’m just stuck in the mud, unable to move, paralyzed. I’ve been praying for a while now for a restored heart, as my emotions and heart have felt drained for quite a while now and I have had little feeling and emotion.

I think about my dog, Coco, a fun little beagle, who, like all hounds, cannot be trusted around food within her reach. From her perspective, it might seem mean to her that I don’t leave food within her reach, but I do so because I know if she overeats, she will get sick, and if it were to continue past a point, it would kill her. I withhold from her what she perceives as good because she is not capable of receiving the good responsibly. Perhaps this is one reason for God’s delay. Am I capable of receiving the gift of a restored heart right now? Am I responsible enough to have a whole heart and not foolishly damage it again, through sin or foolish choices?

I allow Coco out in front of the house without a leash, because she is somewhat trustworthy to not run off (although she does need to be checked on frequently). Through repeated training and working with her off the leash, she is able to be trusted some being off the leash. Likewise, God wants in me a particular kind of character, a character that is like Him. Perhaps some of the things I am praying for are things that require more character to both fully appreciate and respectfully treasure. Would I be given a new suit when I continually am found playing in the mud? Perhaps soap and a towel!

I don’t like waiting, but I can at least examine and work on the things that are hindering me from receiving a restored heart.

Why does God appear nasty?

I am taking another class at Dallas Theological Seminary, this one under Dr. Bingham, and am having my mind stretched and expanded in some interesting and challenging ways.  The class this week is on the History of Doctrine, and a discussion today ensued on why the church ignores much of the Old Testament.  A big part of the reason is because the church is uncomfortable with how God is portrayed in the Old Testament.  He seems judgmental, angry, jealous, vindictive, loves war and killing, and appears downright nasty.  How do I harmonize the Old Testament’s (and even some of the New) view of God with the picture that Christ gives me? 

I posed the question to Dr. Bingham on how we respond to those such as Dawkins, who in his book, The God Delusion, called the God of the Old Testament many of those things mentioned above (and much more).  Bingham’s response was at first surprising and then absolutely refreshing to me:

Justice, when executed by a Perfect Judge, is beautiful.

How in the world can I find those descriptions beautiful?  One of Bingham’s favorites is Isaiah 63:3, which describes God as walking on and squashing, squeezing the blood out of, those who are wicked, staining his white garment with the blood and gore of those He has crushed.  It hit me like a ton of bricks, or maybe like a man being squeezed just a bit :).

The “nastiness” of God simply shows me how serious He views sin.  Read that again.  That anger, that seeming ugliness, the death and blood and sacrifice required by God, is because of my sin.  All of this is a vivid image, a stark reality of just how serious sin is to a holy God.  It is ugly because sin is ugly.  It is bloody because sin is bloody.  It is horrible because sin is horrible.  The consequences of sin are ugly, bloody, and horrific.  The cross is ugly, it is bloody, it is horrific because of sin.  “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sin.” (Heb. 9:22)

The God of the Old Testament is just as beautiful as the God of the New and He is one and the same.  “How beautiful are the feet of them who bring good news”, the news that Jesus Christ, “who knew no sin, became sin”, took the trampling and anger and fury of God in my place, that “I might become his righteousness in Christ”, so that I might be in the palm of his hand and not under the heel of his foot (Is. 52:7, 2 Co. 5:21).

Materialism

I enjoy helping friends move. It probably sounds a bit strange, but I like the physical exercise, the fun times with friends as we grunt and groan and heave stuff up and down stairs, and the taste of water and pizza after all the hard work. In addition to this, I like how it challenges me with the stuff that I own—I go home after helping someone move and usually throw some of my stuff away. Tonight, the sermon at IBC was on materialism, which is something that has been on my heart and mind for a while now.

I have a lot of stuff and I buy a lot of stuff. I don’t need this stuff and sometimes I don’t even really want the stuff I buy; I just do so because maybe I’ll be a little happier if I have it. I’ve been cleaning out boxes and drawers lately and getting rid of things that I hardly ever use (if at all). I am amazed at how many of these things I have that have cost me a decent amount of money and yet I’ve never or hardly used them! What a waste! This is not being a good steward of the money that Christ gives me. I have a box of computer games and some random equipment that have easily cost me over the years $40-50 per game, and yet now it sits in a garage collecting dust, listed on Craig’s List for $10 and not a single phone call. I could hardly wait to get the games and play them several years ago and yet now, all together, they aren’t worth anything. There was a joystick I bought, used once, and then put it back in the box, only to sit for several years before getting rid of it a few weeks ago. There is the pen that I thought I needed to help me go back to hand-writing a journal that would save the handwriting to a computer that is now sitting unused and I am in the process of getting rid of it. Those are just a few examples of the many things that have been wasted.

How quickly the stuff we own starts to own us! We move to larger apartments and homes to make room for what we buy, get alarms to protect our stuff, buy safes to protect it, and locks, chains, keys, and bolts. If that isn’t enough, we insure what we own, spend money to maintain it and keep it looking nice, and then after we die, it’s sold in an estate sale for a tiny fraction of what we invested in it. We can’t really take it with us and most of the time our families don’t want it!

Thankfully, with all of this, I feel like my purchasing habits are starting to change. I question the purchase of an item a lot more now; do I really need it, can I live without it, what am I going to do with it, and am I actually going to use it immediately? What else might I do with the money saved by not buying it that would be a better use? C.S. Lewis suggests that if our giving habits do not cause us to feel some pain and make us reduce our spending habits, maybe we aren’t giving enough. Does my spending reflect the importance of Christ in my life, or how selfish I am? What about you?

Every Little Girl is a Princess

I started reading one of my childhood favorites this morning, a novel by George MacDonald called The Princess and the Goblin.  He opens the book with the following dialogue between him and his reader:

“But, Mr. Author, why do you always write about princesses?”
“Because every little girl is a princess".”
“You will make them vain if you tell them that".”
“Not if they understand what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“What do you mean by a princess?”
“The daughter of a king.”
“Very well, then, every little girl is a princess, and there would be no need to say anything about it, except that she is always in danger of forgetting her rank, and, behaving as if she had grown out of the mud.  I have seen little princesses behave like the children of thieves and lying beggars, and that is why they need to be told they are princesses.  And that is why, when I tell a story of this kind, I like to tell it about a princess.  Then I can say better what I mean, because I can then give her every beautiful thing I want her to have.” (my emphasis)

MadDonald writes about princesses because little girls have a tendency to forget who they are and who their father is.  This is so true with the believer in Jesus Christ!  How often we forget who we are and Who our Father is!  We are reminded constantly in the Bible of our standing in Christ, who we once were and no longer are, who we are now, and what Christ is making us to me.  We are to lay aside the “old self” and put on the “new self” (Col 3:10, Eph 4:22, 24), we are adopted children of God (Romans 8:15, Eph 1:5), and we are to live as Christ by “clothing ourselves with Him” (Romans 13:14).  In short, we are to be and act like children of God because He has made us His children in Christ Jesus.  Living in this knowledge transforms our behavior.  Am I acting like a son of the good and perfect Father (James 1:17)?

It reminds me of something Lewis wrote of “an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.”

What am I doing in the mud?

Obedience, Freedom, and Joy

Lately, I’ve been learning a lesson in the relationship between obedience and freedom, one which at first glance, seems to be a contradiction.  This lesson, like others, has come through the experience of having a dog.

Our first family dog, Sandy, loved our pleasure at her obedience.  She willingly, and joyfully, obeyed, responding quickly and enthusiastically to the training we took her through during the first year we had her.  Within a few months, she would come, sit, lay down, stay, heel, and for fun, beg and shake.  Her obedience, for the most part, was joyful and prompt.  She trusted in the goodness of her masters and did as she was told.  What was the result?  Not only the joy of the master (us), but greater freedom for her.  Once we knew she would come when called, we no longer needed the leash, and our walks and times of taking her out to play became greater arenas of freedom for her.  We gave her the freedom to explore because we were confident in her obedience in that freedom.  Her obedience not only resulted in greater freedom, but an increased joy, as she was able to enjoy that freedom, and we were able to relax on the walks (instead of the constant training).

Fast forward to present day, with a five-month old beagle puppy, who in addition to being young, is a breed that is rather difficult to train.  Because of this, Coco is kept on a leash, and is not allowed the greater freedom that Sandy used to enjoy.  It is my hope that through more time and training, we will get to the place that she will obey, so that she can be given greater freedom.  It is my desire, as her master, to let her run free, to let her experience greater joy in being a dog, but this freedom can and will only be granted by her certain obedience.  When I am confident in her obedience, she will be allowed to run free.  Last weekend some friends and I went for a walk in the woods and she was given the freedom to run around and she loved it!   It was a joy for me to see her have so much fun and it is my desire that she experiences more of this.

Are the limitations imposed by the leash and choke chain because of a mean master or the doubtful obedience of the dog?  Applying this to the Christian walk, are some of the limitations or lack of things due to the Potter or in some cases because of the stubbornness of the clay?  Perhaps I am not given what I want, because I could not handle the “freedom” that is granted in order to have that want.  Obedience precedes freedom.

Reality and Faith

One of my biggest struggles is with trying to understand the relationship between reality and spirituality. I feel a lot of frustration at times with what I perceive as "spiritual" ideas or concepts because I don't feel like these reflect an accurate picture of reality and thus won't be successful or practical in the long run. A conversation with a good friend last Tuesday brought this issue back up again and as I was thinking about it the following morning, I came across a passage that beautifully gave what might be the answer.

Without become weak in faith he [Abraham] contemplated his own body, now as good as dead since he was about a hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah's womb; yet, with respect to the promise of God, he did not waiver in unbelief but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what God had promised, He was able also to perform. (Romans 4:19-21)

Here is a man, called the "friend of God" by God Himself, who considered and accepted reality -- he and his wife's inability to have a child -- and yet even in embracing and accepting that reality (and I might even say because of his acceptance of this reality), his faith in God grew stronger. When one sees the impossibility of the situation, one is faced with either despair in the circumstance, or, in the case of the believer, hope and faith that only God has the power to work through the situation. This is what I mean by the acceptance of the reality being a partial catalyst in his faith growing stronger. Neither he nor his wife were getting younger and they were well past their child-bearing years. Yet this fact, this real situation, caused him to cast his hope and faith even more onto the God who had promised and who he believed could perform his promise.

What do I do in the different situations where I see a seemingly hopeless situation that I don't have the power or ability to change? The stories written were for our edification and encouragement -- look and see what happened to them and what God did in their lives. If God took a man and his wife and enabled them to conceive and have a son decades after that time had past, could He not change my heart and my life? Is anything too hard for Him? What will I do when faced with reality? Will I turn towards Him and increase my hope and faith in Him, or cry that the giant is too big, not seeing the greatness of God that makes any giant but a grain of sand on the seashore? Could not He who formed the earth and spoke everything into existence have the power to mold me into the image of His Son? Oh me of little faith, or as Dr. Bailey pointed out in the translation, oh little faither!

But even if He does not...

I was reading through the book of Daniel and came across the passage about the fiery furnace and the response to Nebuchadnezzar regarding his demand to worship him:

Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter.  If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18)

So these three men are threatened with death by fire if they do not bow down to the king and worship his image of gold.  What struck me about their statement is not their faith that God will save them, but that His saving them from the furnace was not a condition of their obedience to Him.  They were going to obey God regardless of what God did.  If He saved them great; if He did not, they still would obey Him.  What a great example! 

In this story, God did come through.  They were saved from the furnace.  Yet there is another story, celebrated this week, where God did not save His Son.  God the Son "emptied Himself, taking on the form of a bond servant, and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (Phil. 2:7)  He did so, enduring the fiery "furnace" of the cross, and the rejection of God in order that you and I might be saved.  Here we find that Christ's obedience to the Father was not conditioned upon being saved from the cup that the Father made Him drink--He surrendered His will to the Father and drank it.  "Not my will, but yours be done." (Luke 22:42)

Is my obedience to God conditional upon certain things?  What things are these?  Why am I allowing those things to separate me from Him?  It seems that greater faith is grown through the surrender of expectations and the abandonment of one to Him.  Even if He does or does not, will I follow Him?  Will you?

Wounded Healer (update)

I've been thinking about what I wrote previously and it bothers me for several reasons: I don't like people who write that way, it is very generic sounding and impractical, and it is very intellectual and "high-minded" which I feel is very arrogant. So I want to make a couple of observations on the Nouwen paragraphs that I hope will be more reflective of me.

I liked what Nouwen said because so often I feel like the approach a Christian gives to those outside the church can be very impractical and mystical. We say that "Christ has the power to change you" and that you can "do everything through Him" and yet I wonder just how well something like that speaks to someone who is unchurched. When we speak about our faith to others, sometimes we make assumptions of mutual understanding that very well may not be there. As one who works in computers, I may speak of such things as tags and markup in describing web pages to someone who has barely used a computer as a word processor, much less surf the internet, and therefore my words have no meaning to this person because he or she can't relate to what I am saying.

This is why I love what Nouwen says. It is critical for us to present the Christian message in a way that is practical and relevant to people in their every-day lives. And for this to be true, I think it has to be practical and relevant to our own lives. Only when we've gone through the discipline of working through Christ's message and applied it to our lives, in our current culture and present context, are we then in a better position to share that same message to others.

Wounded Healer

Why should a man marry and have children, study and build a career; why should he invent new techniques, build new institutions, and develop new ideas--when he doubts if there will be a tomorrow which can guarantee the value of human effort?

Only when man feels himself responsible for the future can he have hope or despair, but when he thinks of himself as a passive victim of an extremely complex technological bureaucracy, his motivation falters and he starts drifting from one moment to the next, making life a long row of randomly chained incidents and accidents.

When we wonder why the language of traditional Christianity has lost its liberating power for nuclear man, we have to realize that most Christian preaching is still based on the presupposition that man sees himself as meaningfully integrated with a history in which God came to us... But when man's historical consciousness is broken, the whole Christian message seems like a lecture about the great pioneers to a boy on an acid trip.

Christianity is not just challenged to adapt itself to a modern age, but is also challenged to ask itself whether its unarticulated suppositions can still form the basis for its redemptive pretensions. (Nouwen in Wounded Healer)

This is a profound set of observations. In an era of post-modernism, meaning has been removed and one is left with nothing. It is difficult to present hope to one who feels as if nothing matters. The last sentence above is one of the best, in my opinion. We cannot simply present the gospel without being aware of our underlying assumptions and beliefs that others do not share and thus changing the way we approach the presentation of the hope of Christ. Our message is meaningless to those who do not share, in Nouwen's words above, a view of ourselves as "meaningfully integrated" in history.

Do you understand your assumptions, your presuppositions, the foundation of your beliefs? How do these differ to what the post-modern man thinks? In reflecting on the differences, what might change in your approach to speaking about your beliefs in a way that might be relevant to the post-modern man?

Heaven

I've been reading a book by Dallas Willard called The Divine Conspiracy and in a section where he discusses going to heaven, I found this particularly convicting:

I am thoroughly convinced that God will let everyone into heaven who, in his considered opinion, can stand it. But "standing it" may prove to be a more difficult matter than those who take their view of heaven from popular movies or popular preaching may think. The fires of heaven may be hotter than those in the other place... There is a widespread notion that just passing through death transforms human character. Discipleship is not needed. Just believe enough to "make it." But I have never been able to find any basis in scriptural tradition or psychological reality to think this might be so. What if death only forever fixes us as the kind of person we are at death? What would one do in heaven with a debauched character or a hate-filled heart? (p. 302)

Willard goes on to suggest that unless our belief results in life transformation, we really haven't believed. My actions will follow my belief and if my actions aren't consistent with what I say I believe in, then what I say I believe in isn't what I really believe in.

I find this convicting because in the last several months, almost a year now, I have slowly allowed things in my life to "slide", excusing myself from following through in areas I am pretty sure a whole-hearted belief in Christ would not be excused. In areas I find myself to act selfishly, rather than ruthlessly going after the selfishness and crucifying the flesh, I tell myself that it doesn't matter anyway--I am single so I can be selfish. In other areas of self-improvement, I have grown lazy and thus have regressed to locations below rock walls that I had once scaled.

Why do my actions not match my beliefs? I have no excuse--"[I]n the final analysis we fail to be disciples only because we do not decide to be. We do not intend to be disciples. (Willard)"