A bond-servant refers to one who voluntarily sells him or herself into the slavery of another. That is, he or she forfeits his or her freedom to come under the rule of another person. John and other biblical authors use this term to describe the Christian's relationship with Christ. At least in theory.
I couldn’t help but wonder if someone would use this term to describe my relationship with Him. Would my friends and family? Would I? Would God? Have I surrendered my freedom to His authority?
To help answer this question, I looked up the word authority in Webster’s dictionary. Here’s what I found:
authority: 1) citation used in support of a statement or in defense of an action; also: the source of such a citation 2) one appealed to as an expert 3) power to influence thought or behavior 4) freedom granted: right 5) persons in command; esp: government 6) convincing force
So I wonder, who or what do I let influence my thoughts, my feelings, my actions? Who convinces me of my decisions? If the world says one thing and God says another, what do my actions reveal about who I have sold myself to?
The world tells me to live my life for me; God says the life I live I live for Him. The world says that pleasure is supreme; God says knowing Him brings ultimate joy. The world tells me to seek comfort; God calls me to seek His kingdom. The worlds tell me to demand what is mine; God wants me to sacrifice myself for the benefit of others. The world obsesses over sex; God obsesses over His Son, His glory. The world loves power; God delights in humility. The world hoards its goods; God cares for the poor and impoverished. The world seeks proof; God authors faith. The world says your best life is now; God offers a new life created for the new heaven and earth.
As I separate the two masters’ voices, I sense that I often come under the command of the world. But I long to have my heart set free from such influence. I want to join with John and other believers who have sold themselves into the hands of the kind, wise, gentle Master.
May His Spirit be the power that influences my, along with all believers, interactions, thoughts, motivations. As John writes, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever” (I John 2:16, 17).
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Questions, God's Invitations
At church this morning the Young Adult pastor spoke on the importance of studying Scripture. He pointed out that reading the Word invokes tons of questions. He went so far as to say that if when we read the Bible we don’t have questions, we’re not really reading it. I couldn’t agree more.
In another blog entry (“Transforming Questions” October 2008), I wrote on this very topic. Questions, I'm beginning to see, are like invitations from Christ. He invites us on a journey of seeking and finding, where we seek answers and find Him. For if we never wonder, we never pursue.
So what are some questions you have? Maybe God is calling you to an exploration, an adventure to come and investigate, to search and find the treasures of His heart. Let us brave the mystery and courageously walk forward and open the Word. May we not fear the confusion or the frustration. Instead may we hope that we will find what we seek.
My invitations:
Why faith?
How does the Spirit operate? What does it mean to walk by the Spirit?
Why did God give the laws He gave in the Mosaic Law? Wouldn't we have known we were sinners apart from these rules?
What does sin look like to God?
Why does God permit such suffering in the world? Is witnessing His glory through painful circumstances (e.g. blind man since birth story in John; enduring earth until Christ’s return) really that much better than not having any pain in the first place?
What did Jesus feel on the cross?
How do God’s sovereignty and humanity’s liberty coincide?
In another blog entry (“Transforming Questions” October 2008), I wrote on this very topic. Questions, I'm beginning to see, are like invitations from Christ. He invites us on a journey of seeking and finding, where we seek answers and find Him. For if we never wonder, we never pursue.
So what are some questions you have? Maybe God is calling you to an exploration, an adventure to come and investigate, to search and find the treasures of His heart. Let us brave the mystery and courageously walk forward and open the Word. May we not fear the confusion or the frustration. Instead may we hope that we will find what we seek.
My invitations:
Why faith?
How does the Spirit operate? What does it mean to walk by the Spirit?
Why did God give the laws He gave in the Mosaic Law? Wouldn't we have known we were sinners apart from these rules?
What does sin look like to God?
Why does God permit such suffering in the world? Is witnessing His glory through painful circumstances (e.g. blind man since birth story in John; enduring earth until Christ’s return) really that much better than not having any pain in the first place?
What did Jesus feel on the cross?
How do God’s sovereignty and humanity’s liberty coincide?
Sunday, August 2, 2009
One Thing
“One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to mediate in His temple” (Ps 27:4).
In Psalm 27, David says he longs for one thing. I wonder at his small list. How can he ask for only one? I crave so many things. I seek comfort, love, friendship, security. I want a good job. I want stability. I want peace.
As I think on the things I seek, I wonder if David limited his list to one because much of what I crave he found in God. In His presence, David discovered abundant joy (Ps 16). He had purpose because he knew God’s calling (Ps 139). He found comfort in God his refuge (Ps 61). He rested in the security of the Lord's love and sovereignty (Ps 23). In the Almighty, he had a confidant like no other (Ps 28).
Whereas it seems David came to one Fountain to drink, I often seek many reservoirs. Like the people of Israel I haul broken cisterns that can hold no water (Jer 2:13). Today I’m challenged to stop slurping from the cracked basins of work, recognition, financial security, friends and family. These, not able to satiate, instead create a thirst for Living Waters.
My soul hears the voice of God, “Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters; and you who have no money come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and delight yourself in abundance” (Is 55:1, 2).
With that kind of invitation how can I, along with those who thirst for more, resist? May we learn to drop empty cisterns and ask from the Lord one thing—Himself.
In Psalm 27, David says he longs for one thing. I wonder at his small list. How can he ask for only one? I crave so many things. I seek comfort, love, friendship, security. I want a good job. I want stability. I want peace.
As I think on the things I seek, I wonder if David limited his list to one because much of what I crave he found in God. In His presence, David discovered abundant joy (Ps 16). He had purpose because he knew God’s calling (Ps 139). He found comfort in God his refuge (Ps 61). He rested in the security of the Lord's love and sovereignty (Ps 23). In the Almighty, he had a confidant like no other (Ps 28).
Whereas it seems David came to one Fountain to drink, I often seek many reservoirs. Like the people of Israel I haul broken cisterns that can hold no water (Jer 2:13). Today I’m challenged to stop slurping from the cracked basins of work, recognition, financial security, friends and family. These, not able to satiate, instead create a thirst for Living Waters.
My soul hears the voice of God, “Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters; and you who have no money come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and delight yourself in abundance” (Is 55:1, 2).
With that kind of invitation how can I, along with those who thirst for more, resist? May we learn to drop empty cisterns and ask from the Lord one thing—Himself.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Worry Like A River
From the beginning when Kate wakes in the morning, she worries. She wonders if the coffee machine will work. Will her kids fight her about what to wear? What if her son misbehaves in school? How will she deal with the teacher? And lunches… did she make the kids’ lunches last night? Will her husband be safe on his way to work? He usually runs late, which will cause him to speed. What if he gets in an accident? And the Bible study she leads later today…. did she prepare enough questions? Are they good questions? And all these thoughts rush through her mind before she lifts her head from the pillow.
In the above example, Kate’s thoughts flow out of control, just like a river that has overflowed its banks. Picture the water rushing into unwanted places, destroying land, damaging property, producing life-threatening situations. So too our uncontained thoughts can destroy our lives. To bring relief, the waters need to ebb and flow freely within their banks. Similarly we need to bring back our thoughts within the protection of their God-given banks.
So when overcome with worry, how can we help these flooded thoughts recede?
Paul helps us answer this question in his letter to the Philippians. In this epistle, Paul sought to encourage his friends, who like many of us, felt overcome with anxiety. He writes, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:6, 7).
When I first read this passage I wonder if Paul ever worried. How can gratitude solve anxiety? The two do not seem to go together. Tell us to meditate, problem solve, go for a run. But say a prayer of thanksgiving?
So I started thinking about what happens when we thank God. I realized that thanksgiving is an act of humility. We admit that we have received something that we did not earn. How often do you thank your employer for your paycheck? Probably not that often. That’s because you worked for it. You recognize that you deserve the money.
In thanksgiving to God, we humble ourselves, admitting that all we have—our life, our families, our jobs, our home, our food—come from Him. We confess that we are in fact dependent on God. Worry, however, springs from our desire to be independent of God, to act and think about ourselves and our environment in ways reserved for God alone.
So Paul tells the Philippians to be thankful because giving thanks gets to the heart of the problem—their struggle to trust God. They needed to remember that Someone else is in control.
When we give thanks, we remember how God has proved His faithfulness to us. We become aware of His involvement in our lives.
During a time of increased anxiety and worry, I began to train myself to be thankful. At this time, I didn’t feel much gratitude. In fact, I felt angry. I wondered why God didn’t do more in my life. But I decided to oblige Paul in an attempt to counteract my growing bitterness.
So I started keeping a thanksgiving journal. Each morning, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, I wrote a letter of thanks to God. Some days I simply said I was grateful to have shelter with running water and a warm place to sleep. Other mornings I gave thanks for family and friends. At other times, I thanked God for the sacrifice of Jesus.
As I continued I became aware of God’s activity in my life. My gratitude grew. I become more and more thankful. Still to this day when I wake in the morning, I don’t always have a long list, but I remember that I am dependent. I need God. I need Him to hear me, to listen, to respond. I cannot live on my own.
When we worry, much of it results form thinking we are the ones in control, that we must solve all our problems plus everyone’s we care about. But this isn’t the case. We must learn to rest in the arms of the One who said He will take care of us. Giving thanks to Him refocuses our thoughts—from ourselves to Him, the giver and sustainer of life. We, in exchange, experience peace. God’s peace. It is a peace that guards our hearts, our minds. And it results from a close, intimate relationship with our Maker.
Prayers of thanksgiving then remind us of the Provider’s faithful provision and lead us to His presence. There the flood waters of worry begin to recede as we agree with God about our powerlessness over our lives. As the murky waters depart, His peace, like a pure river flows down into our hearts, guarding us with tranquility.
In the above example, Kate’s thoughts flow out of control, just like a river that has overflowed its banks. Picture the water rushing into unwanted places, destroying land, damaging property, producing life-threatening situations. So too our uncontained thoughts can destroy our lives. To bring relief, the waters need to ebb and flow freely within their banks. Similarly we need to bring back our thoughts within the protection of their God-given banks.
So when overcome with worry, how can we help these flooded thoughts recede?
Paul helps us answer this question in his letter to the Philippians. In this epistle, Paul sought to encourage his friends, who like many of us, felt overcome with anxiety. He writes, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:6, 7).
When I first read this passage I wonder if Paul ever worried. How can gratitude solve anxiety? The two do not seem to go together. Tell us to meditate, problem solve, go for a run. But say a prayer of thanksgiving?
So I started thinking about what happens when we thank God. I realized that thanksgiving is an act of humility. We admit that we have received something that we did not earn. How often do you thank your employer for your paycheck? Probably not that often. That’s because you worked for it. You recognize that you deserve the money.
In thanksgiving to God, we humble ourselves, admitting that all we have—our life, our families, our jobs, our home, our food—come from Him. We confess that we are in fact dependent on God. Worry, however, springs from our desire to be independent of God, to act and think about ourselves and our environment in ways reserved for God alone.
So Paul tells the Philippians to be thankful because giving thanks gets to the heart of the problem—their struggle to trust God. They needed to remember that Someone else is in control.
When we give thanks, we remember how God has proved His faithfulness to us. We become aware of His involvement in our lives.
During a time of increased anxiety and worry, I began to train myself to be thankful. At this time, I didn’t feel much gratitude. In fact, I felt angry. I wondered why God didn’t do more in my life. But I decided to oblige Paul in an attempt to counteract my growing bitterness.
So I started keeping a thanksgiving journal. Each morning, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, I wrote a letter of thanks to God. Some days I simply said I was grateful to have shelter with running water and a warm place to sleep. Other mornings I gave thanks for family and friends. At other times, I thanked God for the sacrifice of Jesus.
As I continued I became aware of God’s activity in my life. My gratitude grew. I become more and more thankful. Still to this day when I wake in the morning, I don’t always have a long list, but I remember that I am dependent. I need God. I need Him to hear me, to listen, to respond. I cannot live on my own.
When we worry, much of it results form thinking we are the ones in control, that we must solve all our problems plus everyone’s we care about. But this isn’t the case. We must learn to rest in the arms of the One who said He will take care of us. Giving thanks to Him refocuses our thoughts—from ourselves to Him, the giver and sustainer of life. We, in exchange, experience peace. God’s peace. It is a peace that guards our hearts, our minds. And it results from a close, intimate relationship with our Maker.
Prayers of thanksgiving then remind us of the Provider’s faithful provision and lead us to His presence. There the flood waters of worry begin to recede as we agree with God about our powerlessness over our lives. As the murky waters depart, His peace, like a pure river flows down into our hearts, guarding us with tranquility.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Are You Listening?
Your teenage boys
They’re dippin’,
they’re trippin’
They’re slippin’ away from reality
Anything to quiet the voice of need
They’re stealin’,
they’re dealin’,
Concealin’ their shame.
Sweet skittles to silence the scream
Can you hear the voice of need?
Open your eyes
They’re flyin’ high,
While cryin’ out
They’re dyin’ inside
Don’t you see the tears of need?
They’re smokin’,
they’re tokin’,
They’ve broken down;
Empty bottles, they’re drowin’ out
The beckoning voice of need
They’re slammin’ doors shut
You’re slammin’ your heart shut
All alone to grow up
You just want them to shut up
I long to hear your voice of love
Love—
Words of edification
Gazes of affection,
Hugs of protection
Love—
A voice of wisdom
Eyes of compassion
Hands of instruction
Feet of direction
A heart of duration
Love—
Doesn’t give up, give in, give over
Doesn’t kick out, shut out, block out
Doesn’t turn away, walk away, stay away.
Love speaks to the need,
Provides for the need, cares for the need.
Love must first KNOW the need.
SEE the need, HEAR the need.
Are you listening?
They’re dippin’,
they’re trippin’
They’re slippin’ away from reality
Anything to quiet the voice of need
They’re stealin’,
they’re dealin’,
Concealin’ their shame.
Sweet skittles to silence the scream
Can you hear the voice of need?
Open your eyes
They’re flyin’ high,
While cryin’ out
They’re dyin’ inside
Don’t you see the tears of need?
They’re smokin’,
they’re tokin’,
They’ve broken down;
Empty bottles, they’re drowin’ out
The beckoning voice of need
They’re slammin’ doors shut
You’re slammin’ your heart shut
All alone to grow up
You just want them to shut up
I long to hear your voice of love
Love—
Words of edification
Gazes of affection,
Hugs of protection
Love—
A voice of wisdom
Eyes of compassion
Hands of instruction
Feet of direction
A heart of duration
Love—
Doesn’t give up, give in, give over
Doesn’t kick out, shut out, block out
Doesn’t turn away, walk away, stay away.
Love speaks to the need,
Provides for the need, cares for the need.
Love must first KNOW the need.
SEE the need, HEAR the need.
Are you listening?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Redeeming Road Trip
It’s no secret. I have a mild road rage. Following behind slow drivers in the fast lane drives me into a vocal frenzy. If only they could hear me. I try to help them through subtle hand gestures, those that suggest they move into the lane a few feet to the right. Most of them don’t appear to speak my sign language.
On a recent road trip from Atlanta to Charlotte, phlegmatic drivers occupied the fast and slow lanes on a two-lane highway. My voice grew hoarser and hoarser throughout the afternoon. During this time, I also prayed and sang worship songs. Much like James of the Bible writes about in his letter, with the same mouth I praised God and cursed those made in His image. In the same breath I sang words of praise and then condemned drivers who failed to keep the pace. I knew this shouldn’t be so.
In the midst of my tantrum, I paused, turning my attention to Jesus. I shared with Him my frustration that even on Interstate 85, I witnessed flawed humanity. Things don’t operate the way they should. In all realms of reality, even more meaningful than slow traffic. Innocence fades. Children disobey. Parents separate. Friends betray. Loved ones pass away. Everything is broken.
I thought about how Jesus lived on the earth; God among subjected creation and decay. More than any other human, He had a sense of depravity and broken glory. Yet He spoke with kindness. He touched with gentleness. He taught with love. If anyone should have condemned and yelled and demanded to have things function according to design, it was Jesus.
But then, isn’t that why He came? To restore the marred image, mend the broken hearts, free the prisoners?
I realized how un-Jesus like I am. He focused not on the brokenness but on redemption. He didn’t point out all the wrongs, but pointed to the truth. He didn’t tear people down, but he led them forward, God-ward. Hope flowed through His words. Anger seems to spew through mine.
For much of my adult life I have focused on the negative side of reality, the pain, the heartache, the darkness. I thought I had a good idea about life on earth. And in some ways I do. The problem is that in Christ, there is more—hope, joy, peace, light, life, love.
I know now that I have been worldly-minded. As Jesus’ follower, I must look for redemption, pursue restoration, offer liberation. It is not enough to speak of broken creation. Love that mends has come. As His hands and feet, I now live to share that heartbeat with all those I meet. Even the carefree divers on I-85.
So I’m beginning to train myself to “look for redemption in everyone,” as Karin Berquist would say. I’m moving from anger and fear to hope and courage.
On a recent road trip from Atlanta to Charlotte, phlegmatic drivers occupied the fast and slow lanes on a two-lane highway. My voice grew hoarser and hoarser throughout the afternoon. During this time, I also prayed and sang worship songs. Much like James of the Bible writes about in his letter, with the same mouth I praised God and cursed those made in His image. In the same breath I sang words of praise and then condemned drivers who failed to keep the pace. I knew this shouldn’t be so.
In the midst of my tantrum, I paused, turning my attention to Jesus. I shared with Him my frustration that even on Interstate 85, I witnessed flawed humanity. Things don’t operate the way they should. In all realms of reality, even more meaningful than slow traffic. Innocence fades. Children disobey. Parents separate. Friends betray. Loved ones pass away. Everything is broken.
I thought about how Jesus lived on the earth; God among subjected creation and decay. More than any other human, He had a sense of depravity and broken glory. Yet He spoke with kindness. He touched with gentleness. He taught with love. If anyone should have condemned and yelled and demanded to have things function according to design, it was Jesus.
But then, isn’t that why He came? To restore the marred image, mend the broken hearts, free the prisoners?
I realized how un-Jesus like I am. He focused not on the brokenness but on redemption. He didn’t point out all the wrongs, but pointed to the truth. He didn’t tear people down, but he led them forward, God-ward. Hope flowed through His words. Anger seems to spew through mine.
For much of my adult life I have focused on the negative side of reality, the pain, the heartache, the darkness. I thought I had a good idea about life on earth. And in some ways I do. The problem is that in Christ, there is more—hope, joy, peace, light, life, love.
I know now that I have been worldly-minded. As Jesus’ follower, I must look for redemption, pursue restoration, offer liberation. It is not enough to speak of broken creation. Love that mends has come. As His hands and feet, I now live to share that heartbeat with all those I meet. Even the carefree divers on I-85.
So I’m beginning to train myself to “look for redemption in everyone,” as Karin Berquist would say. I’m moving from anger and fear to hope and courage.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Empowering Grace
In college, a friend sought my advice on how to respond to problems she had with her roommate. Her roommate continually made a mess of the bathroom they shared and rarely cleaned up. They agreed at the beginning of their lease that they would both share in the chores but now only one did the work. My friend felt annoyed, angry and torn. As a Christian, she felt called to love. Should she continue to clean up the bathroom as an act of service? Should she show her grace and bear the burden herself?
Recently that incident has come to mind because I found myself pondering the phrase “show her grace.” We Christians use that language regularly. We want to give grace, cover in grace, show grace to our friends, family, co-workers. But what exactly do we mean? Is it mere forgiveness, 70 times 7? Or is there another way to understand this divine call?
I’m learning that giving grace exceeds forgiving. With forgiveness we pardon a sin, a wrong done against us. We let the person go free, saying he/she no longer owes us what he/she took from us.
In the foremost act of, what I’ll call, forgiveness-grace, Jesus died and rose again on our behalf. In Christ, God reconciled us to Himself, forgiving our debt. The relationship we broke, He healed. In His work to mend humanity, He erased the debt of holiness we owed Him. At the cross, Jesus became our sin, while we became His righteousness. Humans restored to their Maker. Grace in forgiveness.
But the work of God goes beyond this pardoning. His works remains incomplete until human beings reflect the nature of God again. In the beginning, He gave us breath for the purpose of breathing it back to Him and the world we inhabit. We all bear God’s image, created to know and reflect His beauty, character, and love. But each of us is marred, a broken piece of humanity. None of us lives up to our full potential as a divine image bearer. Hence, the debt of righteousness we owed.
So God works to liberate us from that which hinders us from being fully alive, a transformative-grace. From the cross, the place of forgiveness-grace, God continues His gracious work until the eschaton, when we will partake of Christ’s glory. For now He renovates our hearts, the old to new, the shattered to wholeness, the dead to the living. He ever enlivens us, letting us know Him more deeply to reveal Him more fully.
His grace, as such, is not license to live as we would please. Rather, His grace empowers us to be human, to reveal Him. Much like the moon has no light of itself but reflects the sun’s essence, to be fully human is to reveal the light of the Greater Light.
So God works, restoring our marred image. God unleashes this creative, redeeming work through people, circumstances, His Word and Spirit. To give grace to another means, then, that not only do we forgive, but we interact in such a way as to help him/her back to glory.
A good question to ask ourselves, “Is my interaction helping restore this person to glory or am I enabling him/her to live in the marred state, in weakened humanity?” Was it enough for my friend to forgive her roommate’s failure to uphold her household duties? Or, was there a way she could have responded that pointed her back to glory?
Grace isn’t just accepting and forgiving people’s wrongs against us, but it involves responding in a way to lead others back to life, back to being human. As redeemed people in process, then, we can help each other. With humble hearts, we must learn to love each other in a way that creates a hunger for glory, for life.
Gracing each other involves accountability, not just overlooking wrongs in the name of forgiveness. We hold each other to a higher standard, exposing sinful motives and deeds of the heart for the purpose of freeing one another to live more fully. Like our Savior, we offer grace that empowers. Empowers to love, to live, to image. That is, to be fully human.
Recently that incident has come to mind because I found myself pondering the phrase “show her grace.” We Christians use that language regularly. We want to give grace, cover in grace, show grace to our friends, family, co-workers. But what exactly do we mean? Is it mere forgiveness, 70 times 7? Or is there another way to understand this divine call?
I’m learning that giving grace exceeds forgiving. With forgiveness we pardon a sin, a wrong done against us. We let the person go free, saying he/she no longer owes us what he/she took from us.
In the foremost act of, what I’ll call, forgiveness-grace, Jesus died and rose again on our behalf. In Christ, God reconciled us to Himself, forgiving our debt. The relationship we broke, He healed. In His work to mend humanity, He erased the debt of holiness we owed Him. At the cross, Jesus became our sin, while we became His righteousness. Humans restored to their Maker. Grace in forgiveness.
But the work of God goes beyond this pardoning. His works remains incomplete until human beings reflect the nature of God again. In the beginning, He gave us breath for the purpose of breathing it back to Him and the world we inhabit. We all bear God’s image, created to know and reflect His beauty, character, and love. But each of us is marred, a broken piece of humanity. None of us lives up to our full potential as a divine image bearer. Hence, the debt of righteousness we owed.
So God works to liberate us from that which hinders us from being fully alive, a transformative-grace. From the cross, the place of forgiveness-grace, God continues His gracious work until the eschaton, when we will partake of Christ’s glory. For now He renovates our hearts, the old to new, the shattered to wholeness, the dead to the living. He ever enlivens us, letting us know Him more deeply to reveal Him more fully.
His grace, as such, is not license to live as we would please. Rather, His grace empowers us to be human, to reveal Him. Much like the moon has no light of itself but reflects the sun’s essence, to be fully human is to reveal the light of the Greater Light.
So God works, restoring our marred image. God unleashes this creative, redeeming work through people, circumstances, His Word and Spirit. To give grace to another means, then, that not only do we forgive, but we interact in such a way as to help him/her back to glory.
A good question to ask ourselves, “Is my interaction helping restore this person to glory or am I enabling him/her to live in the marred state, in weakened humanity?” Was it enough for my friend to forgive her roommate’s failure to uphold her household duties? Or, was there a way she could have responded that pointed her back to glory?
Grace isn’t just accepting and forgiving people’s wrongs against us, but it involves responding in a way to lead others back to life, back to being human. As redeemed people in process, then, we can help each other. With humble hearts, we must learn to love each other in a way that creates a hunger for glory, for life.
Gracing each other involves accountability, not just overlooking wrongs in the name of forgiveness. We hold each other to a higher standard, exposing sinful motives and deeds of the heart for the purpose of freeing one another to live more fully. Like our Savior, we offer grace that empowers. Empowers to love, to live, to image. That is, to be fully human.
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