I wonder what Mary thought as she held God’s Son for the first time. Did she reverently hold such a holy baby, fearing disappointing God if she made Him cry? Was she perplexed by raising her Savior, knowing she would one day submit to Him? How did she respond to the scowling faces that surrounded this scandalous, glorious birth?
I wonder what Joseph thought as his virgin wife nursed the Son of God. Did he feel overwhelmed at having to provide for his family’s needs, for the divine baby? How would he rear Jesus when His true Father reigned in heaven, ruling the earth? Did he often think back to the angel Gabriel, trying to convince himself all this had really happened, that Mary truly did give birth to God’s Son, that they are responsible for the Savior of the world?
I wonder what God felt when Mary delivered His Son, now in human form. Did He excite as He saw His salvific process coming to a climax with the birth of Jesus? Was He saddened to see His Son restrained by human body? Did He wince with pain at the thought of the agonizing, lonely life that awaited Him?
I wonder what Jesus thought when He left heaven to become a baby. Did He ponder what living like a human being, His prize creation, would feel like? Did He look forward to hugs and kisses, dinners and parties, smiles and laughter? Was He sad to leave the intimacy of the Father’s presence in order to bring salvation to the world?
I wonder what life would be like today if this baby was never born. Would people still live on the earth, or would God have already brought His judgment of fire and emptiness? Would we know only fear, anger, depression, loneliness, sin? What hope would remain of life and freedom and joy?
But the Wonder of all Wonders is that He did come to earth. He humbled Himself out of love to become a baby, who would become a man, who would become a sacrifice for sins. Our sins. He took on human skin to have whips lashed across His back, to have nails driven into His wrists, to have His blood drop to the ground. All to pay our debt, reunite us with the Father, give us life.
Our salvation has begun but it is not yet complete. So we wait. We look to the dawn of the everlasting day, where again the Son of God will come to earth and finally complete this salvation He has begun. And so I wonder.
I wonder what it will be like for humans to be born anew, sharing in His divine glory, enjoying life forever. How will relationships work without sin? What does unending joy feel like? What will we see when we look into the Savior's eyes? I wonder…
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Santa and Jesus
Jesus is coming to town. You better watch out. You better not cry. You better not pout. He sees you when you’re sleeping; he knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so please—be good. He’s making a list, checking it twice, going to find out if you’re naughty or nice. Jesus is coming to town.
Don’t we often live like Jesus is Santa Claus? Like children who want gifts instead of coal, we think we can convince God to save us by our good deeds. We attend church, give our change to the Salvation Army, pay our taxes, abstain from wine, obey the 10 Commandments. We work hard to be good, to right our wrongs, to keep our behavior excellent under His watchful eye.
But the message of Jesus differs dramatically from the reward system of Santa. If God had a good and bad list, He would write all our names under “Bad” (Is 53:6; Rom 3:10-18). None of us is good enough to warrant any presents from Him. And the punishment we deserve far surpasses a lump of coal.
But while Santa has a list, God has a book, the Book of Life. In this book are written all the names of those to receive the gift of eternal life (Rev 21:27). To get your name in this book, you have need of one thing only: grace.
At Christmastime we remember the baby Jesus born to live for God and die a sinner’s death. He, the Son of God in human form, took upon Himself our sins, those actions and rebellious attitudes against God and humanity that put us on the “bad” list. At the cross He bore the penalty for us. In His Son’s life, death and resurrection, God offered forgiveness, pardon, and redemption. Grace.
Because of His great love, God sent us this most marvelous gift wrapped in swaddling clothes. His message is not one of judgment according to a good/bad list, but a message of salvation (John 3:16-18) to all who believe. Grace.
To unwrap this beautiful gift we need only have faith. We believe with our hearts, profess with our mouths, confess that Jesus is our Savior (Rom 10:9, 10). Grace.
Since then salvation comes through God’s grace alone, let us stop living as if He is a type of Santa Claus. Why do we think that somehow our behavior will influence His favor toward us? The way of Santa is the way of the law, which Christ fulfilled and did away with ushering in the new covenant (Rom 8:1-4; Heb 8). The Gift has already been given, God’s favor on us bestowed. It is ours to receive, taking hold of Him through faith.
Instead of trying to gain God’s favor through our efforts, we need to rest in His mercy through Christ. Jesus labored for us, giving us what we could never earn. And as we tarry in His grace, His mercy and love will transform our hearts (Col 2:6).
So then let’s again rewrite the old Christmas tune.
Jesus came to town. He was watching out. He heard your cries. He never uttered a pout. He still sees you when you’re sleeping; He knows when you’re awake. He knows you’ve been bad but He’s been good for you, so please—trust in Him. He has the Book of Life, offering eternal life, the work is already done, take and receive, rest in His mercy. The Savior came to town.
Don’t we often live like Jesus is Santa Claus? Like children who want gifts instead of coal, we think we can convince God to save us by our good deeds. We attend church, give our change to the Salvation Army, pay our taxes, abstain from wine, obey the 10 Commandments. We work hard to be good, to right our wrongs, to keep our behavior excellent under His watchful eye.
But the message of Jesus differs dramatically from the reward system of Santa. If God had a good and bad list, He would write all our names under “Bad” (Is 53:6; Rom 3:10-18). None of us is good enough to warrant any presents from Him. And the punishment we deserve far surpasses a lump of coal.
But while Santa has a list, God has a book, the Book of Life. In this book are written all the names of those to receive the gift of eternal life (Rev 21:27). To get your name in this book, you have need of one thing only: grace.
At Christmastime we remember the baby Jesus born to live for God and die a sinner’s death. He, the Son of God in human form, took upon Himself our sins, those actions and rebellious attitudes against God and humanity that put us on the “bad” list. At the cross He bore the penalty for us. In His Son’s life, death and resurrection, God offered forgiveness, pardon, and redemption. Grace.
Because of His great love, God sent us this most marvelous gift wrapped in swaddling clothes. His message is not one of judgment according to a good/bad list, but a message of salvation (John 3:16-18) to all who believe. Grace.
To unwrap this beautiful gift we need only have faith. We believe with our hearts, profess with our mouths, confess that Jesus is our Savior (Rom 10:9, 10). Grace.
Since then salvation comes through God’s grace alone, let us stop living as if He is a type of Santa Claus. Why do we think that somehow our behavior will influence His favor toward us? The way of Santa is the way of the law, which Christ fulfilled and did away with ushering in the new covenant (Rom 8:1-4; Heb 8). The Gift has already been given, God’s favor on us bestowed. It is ours to receive, taking hold of Him through faith.
Instead of trying to gain God’s favor through our efforts, we need to rest in His mercy through Christ. Jesus labored for us, giving us what we could never earn. And as we tarry in His grace, His mercy and love will transform our hearts (Col 2:6).
So then let’s again rewrite the old Christmas tune.
Jesus came to town. He was watching out. He heard your cries. He never uttered a pout. He still sees you when you’re sleeping; He knows when you’re awake. He knows you’ve been bad but He’s been good for you, so please—trust in Him. He has the Book of Life, offering eternal life, the work is already done, take and receive, rest in His mercy. The Savior came to town.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
The Hand You Hold
A regrettable decision. A missed opportunity. A failed relationship. A wound from childhood. A great loss. It could be any number of things, but for many of us the thoughts of the past plague us. Some try to deny the thoughts, never dealing with the sin or the pain. Others may scrutinize the past to a point they fail to live in the present and move into the future. Both of these approaches hinder us from experiencing the joy of Christ.
Events in the past have affected who we are and often need to be processed and worked through. But there comes a point after we mourn the loss, grieve the wound, or repent of the sin that we must move on.
We hurt ourselves when we dwell in the past. We have no control over what has already happened. All we have is the present, which is full of future hope.
In Philippians 3:13-14, Paul writes, “…forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” To reach ahead, Paul had to let go of all the things he once prized (i.e. self-righteous pride). He had a new identity in Christ, and to take possession of this newness, he had to leave the old.
So too we cannot reach forward when we cling to our past wounds, past failings, past sin. In Christ, we are completely new. Our hearts wiped clean. But we cannot live out our new identity if we live in the past.
That does not mean our pain has ceased or we do not feel remorse. It’s a matter of focus. Do we dwell on the past? Or, do we allow God to mend our broken hearts, learn from our mistakes, repent of previous sin?
Daily, we have a choice about where we let our hearts dwell. Our future hope and present activities are closely connected. The promise of Christ’s second coming gives us the courage to live with faith, hope, and love today. And how we live today determines who we are tomorrow. So then, learning from the past, living in today, and looking towards Christ’s return helps us live out our divine call as imagers of God.
As we cease from the despair which results from looking at our past, and turn to hope through Christ’s return, we will live more fully, with joy and with peace. Focusing on that day helps us move forward in life, trusting and resting in His grace. Let us then let go of the past and join Paul in reaching forward to the hand of Christ.
Thought(s) of the day:
What of the past do you cling to? What keeps your grip from letting go? What would it look like if you dropped the past and took hold of your future with Christ?
Events in the past have affected who we are and often need to be processed and worked through. But there comes a point after we mourn the loss, grieve the wound, or repent of the sin that we must move on.
We hurt ourselves when we dwell in the past. We have no control over what has already happened. All we have is the present, which is full of future hope.
In Philippians 3:13-14, Paul writes, “…forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” To reach ahead, Paul had to let go of all the things he once prized (i.e. self-righteous pride). He had a new identity in Christ, and to take possession of this newness, he had to leave the old.
So too we cannot reach forward when we cling to our past wounds, past failings, past sin. In Christ, we are completely new. Our hearts wiped clean. But we cannot live out our new identity if we live in the past.
That does not mean our pain has ceased or we do not feel remorse. It’s a matter of focus. Do we dwell on the past? Or, do we allow God to mend our broken hearts, learn from our mistakes, repent of previous sin?
Daily, we have a choice about where we let our hearts dwell. Our future hope and present activities are closely connected. The promise of Christ’s second coming gives us the courage to live with faith, hope, and love today. And how we live today determines who we are tomorrow. So then, learning from the past, living in today, and looking towards Christ’s return helps us live out our divine call as imagers of God.
As we cease from the despair which results from looking at our past, and turn to hope through Christ’s return, we will live more fully, with joy and with peace. Focusing on that day helps us move forward in life, trusting and resting in His grace. Let us then let go of the past and join Paul in reaching forward to the hand of Christ.
Thought(s) of the day:
What of the past do you cling to? What keeps your grip from letting go? What would it look like if you dropped the past and took hold of your future with Christ?
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Give Me Happiness, er, I Mean Joy
Often times I confuse happiness with joy. I’ve heard the differences between the two emotional experiences from pastors and teachers, but I still find it difficult to alter my desires. I want happiness more than I want joy. See, happiness tends to be based on our circumstances, whereas, joy occurs in spite of our surroundings. Most days, I want peace in my world, not just peace in my heart.
But I must face reality. God assures us we will struggle while on earth. I cannot trust then that I will find happiness. Perhaps there is more to joy than I realize.
Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament, was a man well acquainted with grief and with joy. He had a sense of peace, contentment, well-being that sustained him more than his circumstances rattled him. Daily Paul faced trials such as beatings, imprisonments, hunger, poverty, shipwrecks. Yet he had peace. He had hope. He had assurance.
In his letter to the Philippians he shines the light on his pathway to joy. He writes, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (4:13). His source of contentment? His relationship with Jesus.
Many of us have experienced relationships that gave us strength to endure struggles. Perhaps a close friend, parent, mentor, coach, spouse. Paul had the relationship of all relationships. He knew intimately the Son of God.
Knowing Jesus surpasses the experience we have with our closest connections on earth. In making Him our travel guide, spending time with Him in His Word and in prayer, relying on the mystery of His Spirit in us, we too can have enduring joy through any and all trials.
James, the half-brother of Jesus, says, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials; knowing the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (1:2-3). In all trials then we can experience this peace and joy that surpasses knowledge.
Life brings pain. Christ brings joy. We receive it as we learn to walk through life clinging to His hand.
Thought for the day: What are some circumstances in your life that have you down? How can you enter into the presence of Christ with your struggles?
But I must face reality. God assures us we will struggle while on earth. I cannot trust then that I will find happiness. Perhaps there is more to joy than I realize.
Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament, was a man well acquainted with grief and with joy. He had a sense of peace, contentment, well-being that sustained him more than his circumstances rattled him. Daily Paul faced trials such as beatings, imprisonments, hunger, poverty, shipwrecks. Yet he had peace. He had hope. He had assurance.
In his letter to the Philippians he shines the light on his pathway to joy. He writes, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (4:13). His source of contentment? His relationship with Jesus.
Many of us have experienced relationships that gave us strength to endure struggles. Perhaps a close friend, parent, mentor, coach, spouse. Paul had the relationship of all relationships. He knew intimately the Son of God.
Knowing Jesus surpasses the experience we have with our closest connections on earth. In making Him our travel guide, spending time with Him in His Word and in prayer, relying on the mystery of His Spirit in us, we too can have enduring joy through any and all trials.
James, the half-brother of Jesus, says, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials; knowing the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (1:2-3). In all trials then we can experience this peace and joy that surpasses knowledge.
Life brings pain. Christ brings joy. We receive it as we learn to walk through life clinging to His hand.
Thought for the day: What are some circumstances in your life that have you down? How can you enter into the presence of Christ with your struggles?
Sunday, November 2, 2008
One of Those Days
You know those days when everything seems to go wrong? Today was one such day for me. I had problems at work, issues with peers, frustrations over broken appliances. Even the sprinkler system soaked me as it watered the autumn ground. Nothing went right; everything went wrong.
In my angst, I turned to God, “God, how can I deal with this?” In that moment I realized I spoke to One who knew my struggle. Not much has gone right for God either, so to speak.* He made us to image Him, to enjoy Him, to know and share His love. But ever since the bite of the forbidden fruit, this divine call and gift shattered. God’s world broke, His creation started decaying, death took over. He subjected His creation to futility. Ever since then He pursues us, broken and rebellious image-bearers, many of whom refuse to acknowledge His presence.
How did He respond when things didn’t go His way? One word: redemptively. Even though He subjected His creation to futility, He did so in hope. Starting in Eden, He began fixing what went awry, what we broke. He initiated. He pursued. He engaged. He forgave. He loved. He went so far as to send His one and only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for our sins, to restore His image in us.
God didn’t and doesn’t give up. What He started, He will finish. When people failed to respond correctly to Him, He refused to abandon us. Instead He engaged with the broken pieces, seeking out restoration, and will one day finalize His glorious redemptive masterpiece. That’s what God does; He restores. In a broken world full of broken people, God brings hope through His creative redemptive work in Christ.
A recipient of this restorative love, I want to respond as my Maker. Today that means forgiving and loving those who hurt me. It means I interact with friends and family in view of God’s grace imparted to me. It means when the heater fails to usher out heat, I look to heaven where moth, rust, time cannot destroy.
When things go wrong, we can find hope through knowing we have Savior who empathizes with our groanings. Through His Spirit, we learn to respond as He does—in engaged love in view of the hope of restoration.
*It should be noted that from the beginning, God determined to carry out His plan of salvation. Humanity’s rebellion did not catch God off guard and cause Him to rethink His plans. His plan has always been a plan of redemption culminating in Christ’s return and entrance into the eschaton. Eden is not perfection; heaven is perfection. It is a great mystery that God should plan to create the human race with the ability to rebel, only to have a salvific plan installed from the beginning. Surely His wisdom, His grace, His love none can fathom.
In my angst, I turned to God, “God, how can I deal with this?” In that moment I realized I spoke to One who knew my struggle. Not much has gone right for God either, so to speak.* He made us to image Him, to enjoy Him, to know and share His love. But ever since the bite of the forbidden fruit, this divine call and gift shattered. God’s world broke, His creation started decaying, death took over. He subjected His creation to futility. Ever since then He pursues us, broken and rebellious image-bearers, many of whom refuse to acknowledge His presence.
How did He respond when things didn’t go His way? One word: redemptively. Even though He subjected His creation to futility, He did so in hope. Starting in Eden, He began fixing what went awry, what we broke. He initiated. He pursued. He engaged. He forgave. He loved. He went so far as to send His one and only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for our sins, to restore His image in us.
God didn’t and doesn’t give up. What He started, He will finish. When people failed to respond correctly to Him, He refused to abandon us. Instead He engaged with the broken pieces, seeking out restoration, and will one day finalize His glorious redemptive masterpiece. That’s what God does; He restores. In a broken world full of broken people, God brings hope through His creative redemptive work in Christ.
A recipient of this restorative love, I want to respond as my Maker. Today that means forgiving and loving those who hurt me. It means I interact with friends and family in view of God’s grace imparted to me. It means when the heater fails to usher out heat, I look to heaven where moth, rust, time cannot destroy.
When things go wrong, we can find hope through knowing we have Savior who empathizes with our groanings. Through His Spirit, we learn to respond as He does—in engaged love in view of the hope of restoration.
*It should be noted that from the beginning, God determined to carry out His plan of salvation. Humanity’s rebellion did not catch God off guard and cause Him to rethink His plans. His plan has always been a plan of redemption culminating in Christ’s return and entrance into the eschaton. Eden is not perfection; heaven is perfection. It is a great mystery that God should plan to create the human race with the ability to rebel, only to have a salvific plan installed from the beginning. Surely His wisdom, His grace, His love none can fathom.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
For Your Love: A Psalm of Lament
O Lord, do not hide Yourself from me;
do not be silent forever.
I long for Your voice;
as the ocean caresses the sand,
for Your words to wash over me.
You hover above
and Your lips are sealed.
My vision is blurry
and my ears are deaf.
O God, when will You break through?
I long for Your presence;
the peace Your strength brings,
the delight in Your grace
and the joy in Your love.
When will You come?
According to Your mercy
You will answer me.
You take all those who come
and You remember Your beloved.
O, hear my heart’s longing
and do not delay!
Illuminate my mind
and rescue me from my thoughts.
Look upon me
and act according to Your ever-pursuing love.
There are many lovers who steal people’s gaze;
that those may know Your love
is better than all,
come to me!
You are the God who hears,
the God who acts, the God who speaks.
I will wait, for You will come.
I will delight again in Your love
and will tell of the intoxication of Your presence.
Your love is the water to my thirsty soul
and in You I am happy.
I will praise You
for You have heard and You will come.
do not be silent forever.
I long for Your voice;
as the ocean caresses the sand,
for Your words to wash over me.
You hover above
and Your lips are sealed.
My vision is blurry
and my ears are deaf.
O God, when will You break through?
I long for Your presence;
the peace Your strength brings,
the delight in Your grace
and the joy in Your love.
When will You come?
According to Your mercy
You will answer me.
You take all those who come
and You remember Your beloved.
O, hear my heart’s longing
and do not delay!
Illuminate my mind
and rescue me from my thoughts.
Look upon me
and act according to Your ever-pursuing love.
There are many lovers who steal people’s gaze;
that those may know Your love
is better than all,
come to me!
You are the God who hears,
the God who acts, the God who speaks.
I will wait, for You will come.
I will delight again in Your love
and will tell of the intoxication of Your presence.
Your love is the water to my thirsty soul
and in You I am happy.
I will praise You
for You have heard and You will come.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Modern Day Psalm of Praise
Come with me to sing His praise;
join as one to voice His love.
The stars whisper His grace at night,
the sun awakens us to worship;
so come, let us open our mouths
to sing His praise.
For You, my God, have not forgotten
Your faithfulness to me everyday;
grace to sustain and keep me close,
Your redemptive hand at work
in me.
You alone have a relentless love;
You alone remain to pursue.
O love that mind cannot confine,
But stretches to the depth
of my being!
And love that still surprises me!
O let us worship Him with our lips;
let us dance for Him with our lives.
He alone has come;
He alone is strong for salvation.
To Him alone give your heart;
on Christ alone fix your gaze.
Only His love is pure
and complete with good intent;
only His love can redeem.
Oh, let us sing with the sun
and dance with the moon;
to worship the God of love
with our being.
join as one to voice His love.
The stars whisper His grace at night,
the sun awakens us to worship;
so come, let us open our mouths
to sing His praise.
For You, my God, have not forgotten
Your faithfulness to me everyday;
grace to sustain and keep me close,
Your redemptive hand at work
in me.
You alone have a relentless love;
You alone remain to pursue.
O love that mind cannot confine,
But stretches to the depth
of my being!
And love that still surprises me!
O let us worship Him with our lips;
let us dance for Him with our lives.
He alone has come;
He alone is strong for salvation.
To Him alone give your heart;
on Christ alone fix your gaze.
Only His love is pure
and complete with good intent;
only His love can redeem.
Oh, let us sing with the sun
and dance with the moon;
to worship the God of love
with our being.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Transforming Questions
Recently I read Sue Monk Kidd’s When the Heart Waits. In this book she discusses the importance of creatively waiting in dark, painful times, so that a transformed life will eventually come forth, much like a cocoon gives birth to a butterfly. In particular, she mentions the artistic usefulness of questions, of allowing ourselves the freedom to ask and to ponder.
I find this thought liberating. I have what seems like a million questions that I tend to run from. I get bogged down in the unknown. I don’t like feeling lost, confused, helpless. Existential questions remind me of my limited understanding as a human being in God’s created universe.
I agree with Kidd that the notion of asking questions is central in our transformation. Questions prompt seeking and seeking leads to discovery and discovery reveals God. Jesus put it this way, “Seek and you shall find.”
But there is something vulnerable in asking questions. We must admit that we do not know it all, that we need another to help us make sense of ourselves, of our lives, and the life we encounter. We seek out of weakness, out of human frailty, out of God-ordained dependency.
Maybe then we shouldn’t let our questions hinder us. Perhaps they are clues along the road, leading us to the ultimate prize, directing us toward heaven, guiding us to the arms of God.
While seeking can be frightening, it’s worth the risk. Once we release ourselves to the journey we feel freer, purposeful, more ourselves. And if we seek, we shall find. When we discover Him, His light will bring our hearts hope, peace, new life. Though we encounter Him on this life's journey, the reality remains that the cocoon of earth will veil our eyes until the day Christ calls us forth to into His presence once for always, where forever we will receive knowledge, understanding, discovery.
Clues for the journey:
What does it mean to live, to truly live?
What is the abundant life of which Christ speaks?
How do I walk by the Spirit?
What does He expect of me, one made of dust with a heart bent on rebellion against Him?
Does He know the struggle of sin that rages on in my heart?
Does He expect me to struggle?
Is He okay with the struggle?
What does God feel?
I find this thought liberating. I have what seems like a million questions that I tend to run from. I get bogged down in the unknown. I don’t like feeling lost, confused, helpless. Existential questions remind me of my limited understanding as a human being in God’s created universe.
I agree with Kidd that the notion of asking questions is central in our transformation. Questions prompt seeking and seeking leads to discovery and discovery reveals God. Jesus put it this way, “Seek and you shall find.”
But there is something vulnerable in asking questions. We must admit that we do not know it all, that we need another to help us make sense of ourselves, of our lives, and the life we encounter. We seek out of weakness, out of human frailty, out of God-ordained dependency.
Maybe then we shouldn’t let our questions hinder us. Perhaps they are clues along the road, leading us to the ultimate prize, directing us toward heaven, guiding us to the arms of God.
While seeking can be frightening, it’s worth the risk. Once we release ourselves to the journey we feel freer, purposeful, more ourselves. And if we seek, we shall find. When we discover Him, His light will bring our hearts hope, peace, new life. Though we encounter Him on this life's journey, the reality remains that the cocoon of earth will veil our eyes until the day Christ calls us forth to into His presence once for always, where forever we will receive knowledge, understanding, discovery.
Clues for the journey:
What does it mean to live, to truly live?
What is the abundant life of which Christ speaks?
How do I walk by the Spirit?
What does He expect of me, one made of dust with a heart bent on rebellion against Him?
Does He know the struggle of sin that rages on in my heart?
Does He expect me to struggle?
Is He okay with the struggle?
What does God feel?
Friday, October 10, 2008
God's Liberator
Luke 4:16-21
Picture this scene. The Jews have gathered in the temple on the Sabbath, just like many of us now gather at church on Sunday morning. Jesus, the One who everyone in town is talking about (v. 15), comes to the front stage to speak. All eyes focus on Him. Finally, they get to hear Him speak.
He takes the scroll of Isaiah and reads Isaiah 61:1, “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners.” As He speaks, the people's hearts excite over what Jesus will teach them. How does this verse apply to us? Who will God send? Will Jesus explain these matters?
But Jesus doesn’t start teaching when He finishes reading. He steps back from the podium and sits down. No wonder "the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him."
Perhaps picking up on the cue that He should say something else, Jesus adds, "Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Attendees exchange glances. What does He mean the verse has been fulfilled? By whom? Where is the liberator?
Slowly, they begin to understand. It's Him. Jesus is the One God has sent to help, to heal, to liberate. He is the One they have been waiting for. Finally, help has come.
Could you imagine sitting in the room that day, listening, thinking about what holds you captive, the issues that plague your mind, the darkness you live in. And, as if to only you, He says, "I’m here to rescue you. I’ve heard your pleas, felt your tears, known your fears. And I’ve come to break you out of the prison that's keeping you from Me. I have come to liberate you, to love you, to show you the light of day. I am He.”
And He is still here. His mission has not changed. He has come to set us, the captives, free. Jesus came to deliver us from the bondage of sin, the very thing that causes our pains, our fears, our addictions. The cross that brought freedom then provides freedom today.
The grace of Christ in His death and resurrection is the very hope and good news for us in our daily struggles. Let us allow Him entrance into our places of weakness, temptation, sorrow. He can deliver us from any prison, no matter the length of confinement or the strength of the prison bars. Nothing is too difficult for Jesus, God’s liberator.
Picture this scene. The Jews have gathered in the temple on the Sabbath, just like many of us now gather at church on Sunday morning. Jesus, the One who everyone in town is talking about (v. 15), comes to the front stage to speak. All eyes focus on Him. Finally, they get to hear Him speak.
He takes the scroll of Isaiah and reads Isaiah 61:1, “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners.” As He speaks, the people's hearts excite over what Jesus will teach them. How does this verse apply to us? Who will God send? Will Jesus explain these matters?
But Jesus doesn’t start teaching when He finishes reading. He steps back from the podium and sits down. No wonder "the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him."
Perhaps picking up on the cue that He should say something else, Jesus adds, "Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Attendees exchange glances. What does He mean the verse has been fulfilled? By whom? Where is the liberator?
Slowly, they begin to understand. It's Him. Jesus is the One God has sent to help, to heal, to liberate. He is the One they have been waiting for. Finally, help has come.
Could you imagine sitting in the room that day, listening, thinking about what holds you captive, the issues that plague your mind, the darkness you live in. And, as if to only you, He says, "I’m here to rescue you. I’ve heard your pleas, felt your tears, known your fears. And I’ve come to break you out of the prison that's keeping you from Me. I have come to liberate you, to love you, to show you the light of day. I am He.”
And He is still here. His mission has not changed. He has come to set us, the captives, free. Jesus came to deliver us from the bondage of sin, the very thing that causes our pains, our fears, our addictions. The cross that brought freedom then provides freedom today.
The grace of Christ in His death and resurrection is the very hope and good news for us in our daily struggles. Let us allow Him entrance into our places of weakness, temptation, sorrow. He can deliver us from any prison, no matter the length of confinement or the strength of the prison bars. Nothing is too difficult for Jesus, God’s liberator.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Prayer of Repentance
O Lord, I repent of my ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my eyes to sights of stumbling.
I watched sitcoms full of sexual innuendos,
Actions full of guns and bombs, blood and death,
Dramas full of murder, rape and injustice.
Instead of light, I perused darkness.
I gave my ears to worthless sounds.
I turned up the music of this world,
Heeded the advice of the deceiver,
Attended to the pleas of the old me.
Instead of truth, I listened to lies.
I gave my lips to rotten words.
I berated, degraded, castigated
Men and women made in Your image.
Instead of hope, I spoke ruin.
O Lord, I repent of my ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my hands to creating a shelter from reality.
I made a house without mirrors, windows, or doors—
Safe from myself, my neighbor, and my God;
No evidence of depravity,
Free of social responsibility,
Ignoring God-dependency.
Instead of Your Church, I built protective walls.
I gave my feet to a gait of comfort and ease.
I fled the rugged streets of the inner-city.
Stepping over the homeless man,
Stepping on the prostitute,
Stepping by the dirty children,
I ran to the suburbs of safety, beauty, prosperity.
Instead of You, I followed the American Dream.
O Lord, I repent of my ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my heart to loving idols.
I exchanged Your glory
For humanity’s praise,
For pleasure over pain,
For freedom to choose my own way.
Instead of rhythms of devotion, my heart beat for other lovers.
O Lord, I repent of such ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my eyes to sights of stumbling.
I watched sitcoms full of sexual innuendos,
Actions full of guns and bombs, blood and death,
Dramas full of murder, rape and injustice.
Instead of light, I perused darkness.
I gave my ears to worthless sounds.
I turned up the music of this world,
Heeded the advice of the deceiver,
Attended to the pleas of the old me.
Instead of truth, I listened to lies.
I gave my lips to rotten words.
I berated, degraded, castigated
Men and women made in Your image.
Instead of hope, I spoke ruin.
O Lord, I repent of my ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my hands to creating a shelter from reality.
I made a house without mirrors, windows, or doors—
Safe from myself, my neighbor, and my God;
No evidence of depravity,
Free of social responsibility,
Ignoring God-dependency.
Instead of Your Church, I built protective walls.
I gave my feet to a gait of comfort and ease.
I fled the rugged streets of the inner-city.
Stepping over the homeless man,
Stepping on the prostitute,
Stepping by the dirty children,
I ran to the suburbs of safety, beauty, prosperity.
Instead of You, I followed the American Dream.
O Lord, I repent of my ways, of how I used my body this day.
I gave my heart to loving idols.
I exchanged Your glory
For humanity’s praise,
For pleasure over pain,
For freedom to choose my own way.
Instead of rhythms of devotion, my heart beat for other lovers.
O Lord, I repent of such ways, of how I used my body this day.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Left On Purpose
Around the world foreign embassies house ambassadors representing their homeland. They represent their state, the policies and beliefs to which their country adheres. Ambassadors do not represent themselves. They emulate the qualities of the one who sent them. We Christians represent God and His kingdom, a King and land marked by love, mercy, grace, purity, joy.
Paul writes “we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us” (II Cor 5:20a). God has sent us on a mission to reveal Him to the world. In all areas of our lives, we should act and speak in view of this responsibility—at home, at work, at Starbucks, in line, in the gym, in the airport, with friends, with family, with strangers.
We are not our own to live as we would choose. Just as a political ambassador reflects the interest of the state, so too we ought to reveal the kingdom of heaven. God left us on earth for a purpose, to show His love, grace, compassion to the world around us. He has left with the message of hope, and it is our responsibility to share this gospel with our words, our deeds, our lives.
Paul writes “we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us” (II Cor 5:20a). God has sent us on a mission to reveal Him to the world. In all areas of our lives, we should act and speak in view of this responsibility—at home, at work, at Starbucks, in line, in the gym, in the airport, with friends, with family, with strangers.
We are not our own to live as we would choose. Just as a political ambassador reflects the interest of the state, so too we ought to reveal the kingdom of heaven. God left us on earth for a purpose, to show His love, grace, compassion to the world around us. He has left with the message of hope, and it is our responsibility to share this gospel with our words, our deeds, our lives.
Friday, September 26, 2008
I Want More
My pastor recently defined salvation as God making everything right—creation, relationships, us. How I long for that day. I weary of this human nature that leads me away from the God I love. I tire of the battle between my flesh and his indwelling Spirit. I continue to fail in compassion, forgiveness, and love. I harbor resentment, seek revenge instead of grace, and do good deeds from wrong motivations.
I know his forgiveness, in that rich grace, covers the payment for such sins, but I want more. I want something new; I want redemption. I desire that new heart promised me. I long for the return of Christ, when he will restore me to his beautiful, loving, holy image. He will permanently remove my weary, sin-laden heart and replace it with a heart of life, beauty, and holiness. In that day, I will receive a glorified body. A body free from wrinkles, free from aches and pains, free from all effects of sin. No sorrow. No tears. No sin. God will make everything new. I will love without demand, exude kindness without deceit, live in the Spirit without a battle.
So each day, I wait. I hope for the return of the Savior whose words are trustworthy and true. He remembers his promise. This redemptive process he has begun, he will complete. Even now, God works, forming his heart in me. Slowly, I mature in godliness. And while I, with the rest of creation, groan, he labors to accomplish redemption. So I yield to God’s wisdom, to his present and future work in me, in creation, in the world.
I know his forgiveness, in that rich grace, covers the payment for such sins, but I want more. I want something new; I want redemption. I desire that new heart promised me. I long for the return of Christ, when he will restore me to his beautiful, loving, holy image. He will permanently remove my weary, sin-laden heart and replace it with a heart of life, beauty, and holiness. In that day, I will receive a glorified body. A body free from wrinkles, free from aches and pains, free from all effects of sin. No sorrow. No tears. No sin. God will make everything new. I will love without demand, exude kindness without deceit, live in the Spirit without a battle.
So each day, I wait. I hope for the return of the Savior whose words are trustworthy and true. He remembers his promise. This redemptive process he has begun, he will complete. Even now, God works, forming his heart in me. Slowly, I mature in godliness. And while I, with the rest of creation, groan, he labors to accomplish redemption. So I yield to God’s wisdom, to his present and future work in me, in creation, in the world.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
God in Our Grief
God cares about our pain. I often forget this truth when I suffer. My earthly tears tend to hide His heavenly face. But the truth is, as the fierce winds of grief swirl about us, God stands to offer us support, comfort, and understanding. He is “the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (1 Cor 1:3, 4).
We live in a fallen world where, throughout our lives, we experience pain, struggles, and loss. We cannot escape these effects of sin. Hope, however, comes from trusting the God who redeems even painful events, bringing about our transformation. God miraculously causes all things in believers’ lives to work for good (Rom 8:28). This includes grief.
Furthermore, we have a Savior who walked on this earth and encountered the sorrows of life as a human. Recall the story of Jesus mourning the loss of His friend Lazarus (John 11:1–44). He hurt. He wept. He grieved. He experienced the overwhelming sense of loss that we often encounter in this broken world.
So when the winds of loss come against us, let our relationship with God help support us through the emotional whirlwind. Let us learn to receive understanding, compassion, and hope from the God of all comfort. He supports us through His love, His compassion, and His experience. And in knowing God more deeply, we will come to look more like Jesus (Rom 5:3-5).
We live in a fallen world where, throughout our lives, we experience pain, struggles, and loss. We cannot escape these effects of sin. Hope, however, comes from trusting the God who redeems even painful events, bringing about our transformation. God miraculously causes all things in believers’ lives to work for good (Rom 8:28). This includes grief.
Furthermore, we have a Savior who walked on this earth and encountered the sorrows of life as a human. Recall the story of Jesus mourning the loss of His friend Lazarus (John 11:1–44). He hurt. He wept. He grieved. He experienced the overwhelming sense of loss that we often encounter in this broken world.
So when the winds of loss come against us, let our relationship with God help support us through the emotional whirlwind. Let us learn to receive understanding, compassion, and hope from the God of all comfort. He supports us through His love, His compassion, and His experience. And in knowing God more deeply, we will come to look more like Jesus (Rom 5:3-5).
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Far From Home
“For our citizenship is in heaven from which we eagerly await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” - Phil 3:20 NASB
I remember the first time I visited a foreign country. The landscape, people, and culture captured my attention. While I enjoyed my stay, however, I knew I did not belong. My skin color, language and food preferences differed from the natives. Clearly, I was a visitor.
So too I often feel out of place in this world. I want love, but often find indifference. I long for perfect relationships, but have constant conflicts. I yearn for life, but see death. While sorrows usually only bring me pain, I find they also give me hope. They serve as tour guides pointing out the broken landscape, the wounded people, and the distorted culture of earth, ever reminding me of my absence from home.
As various problems arise, from spilt milk to loss of a job to the death of a loved one, I’m learning to understand the language they speak. I hear the whisper of hope. We can use our trials to remind us to look toward Christ’s return, to living in harmony with each other, and to enjoying life forever in the presence of our heavenly Father.
I remember the first time I visited a foreign country. The landscape, people, and culture captured my attention. While I enjoyed my stay, however, I knew I did not belong. My skin color, language and food preferences differed from the natives. Clearly, I was a visitor.
So too I often feel out of place in this world. I want love, but often find indifference. I long for perfect relationships, but have constant conflicts. I yearn for life, but see death. While sorrows usually only bring me pain, I find they also give me hope. They serve as tour guides pointing out the broken landscape, the wounded people, and the distorted culture of earth, ever reminding me of my absence from home.
As various problems arise, from spilt milk to loss of a job to the death of a loved one, I’m learning to understand the language they speak. I hear the whisper of hope. We can use our trials to remind us to look toward Christ’s return, to living in harmony with each other, and to enjoying life forever in the presence of our heavenly Father.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Unfulfilled Promises
All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own (Heb 11:13-14).
I love, hate and need this passage. It reminds me that we don’t necessarily see the results of God's promises this side of heaven. I find this truth annoying. I want the promises today. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years. Now. Typically, I have read this text as encouragement to look towards Christ’s return when He will make all things new. Today, my lens gets more focused. I see that my hope includes a freedom from this fleshly body; that is, Christ will free me of the sin that hurts, distracts, and kills. I tire of the Christian struggle between godliness and selfishness. I weary of the conflict between knowing how I ought to live and the way I live. Instead of having a heart that loves God, I have a heart bent on self that alienates and mars relationships.
The promise of restoration and redemption will remain unfulfilled on earth. There's hope in that for me, one who continues to give in to the flesh, but who longs for more, who longs to love as her Savior. And perhaps the longing transforms, for hope itself has a way of healing. So today, I press on towards His righteousness, knowing that my healing will fully take place in a much better world:
And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:15-16).
I love, hate and need this passage. It reminds me that we don’t necessarily see the results of God's promises this side of heaven. I find this truth annoying. I want the promises today. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years. Now. Typically, I have read this text as encouragement to look towards Christ’s return when He will make all things new. Today, my lens gets more focused. I see that my hope includes a freedom from this fleshly body; that is, Christ will free me of the sin that hurts, distracts, and kills. I tire of the Christian struggle between godliness and selfishness. I weary of the conflict between knowing how I ought to live and the way I live. Instead of having a heart that loves God, I have a heart bent on self that alienates and mars relationships.
The promise of restoration and redemption will remain unfulfilled on earth. There's hope in that for me, one who continues to give in to the flesh, but who longs for more, who longs to love as her Savior. And perhaps the longing transforms, for hope itself has a way of healing. So today, I press on towards His righteousness, knowing that my healing will fully take place in a much better world:
And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:15-16).
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