In studying Daniel today and then reading the story of Noah in Genesis, I was struck by the impact of these men who stood firm in the midst of entire generations that had turned their backs on the Lord. Daniel refused to partake of the over-the-top luxuries of Babylon, Noah and his family remained faithful to the Lord while all of their neighbors fell away, and there are a great number of other people like this found throughout the Bible and throughout the rest of history. It wasn't easy for the prophets to proclaim, day in and day out, the truths of the God they served while being beaten and shunned. I'm fairly certain Daniel didn't turn down the riches of Babylon because he really just preferred simple foods, and that Noah didn't just have a distaste for the sins in which his neighbors chose to engage. Nonetheless, these men stood firm on what they believed, and the Lord was glorified in their lives.
Are we more concerned with what our generation is up to or with our own standing before the Lord? I do not believe that we will be judged on a curve. I have very strong doubts about the likelihood of the holy God of Israel saying, "Oh, well, I suppose in comparison with them you did pretty well after all..." Are we ready to stand alone, "blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which we shine like stars in the universe as we hold out the word of life?" (Philippians 2:15-16)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
After Christmas
"When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, to make music in the heart." -Harry Thurman
The work of God through Jesus didn't stop with a baby born in a manger, it didn't stop with a man who grew up to be a good teacher, it didn't stop when that man died on the cross, and it didn't stop with his resurrection from the dead or ascension into Heaven. The work of God through Jesus continues in us and through us today as we surrender to his good, pleasing, and perfect will, and as we love the people around us and proclaim healing and redemption into the brokenness of this world.
Merry Christmas, all year long.
The work of God through Jesus didn't stop with a baby born in a manger, it didn't stop with a man who grew up to be a good teacher, it didn't stop when that man died on the cross, and it didn't stop with his resurrection from the dead or ascension into Heaven. The work of God through Jesus continues in us and through us today as we surrender to his good, pleasing, and perfect will, and as we love the people around us and proclaim healing and redemption into the brokenness of this world.
Merry Christmas, all year long.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Substitution
I've had Watchman Nee's The Normal Christian Life sitting on my shelf (both in Chicago and in TL) for about 6 months now, and I've tried to start reading it a few times-- the problem is that even by reading the first 5 pages I can tell it's a book that's going to challenge and convict me, and sometimes it's hard to get motivated to dive into one of those. I'm working on it again, though, and within those first five pages that I have read Nee brings up a point that seems obvious enough, but that I had never quite heard put into words.
He writes: "God makes it quite clear in his Word that he has only one answer to every human need-- his son, Jesus Christ. In all his dealings with us he works by taking us out of the way and substituting Christ in our place. The Son of God died instead of us for our forgiveness: he lives instead of us for our deliverance. So we can speak of two substitutions-- a Substitute on the Cross who secures our forgiveness and a Substitute within who secures our victory."
The longer I live and serve God, the more I realize that there is really not much of anything we ever do or can do in this life. Our only part is to seek the face of God, to ask that he would reveal more of Christ to us, to ask that he would crucify us and help us to set aside our own selves. And the mystery of it all is that it is here where I begin to find fulfillment. When I set aside myself and let Christ live in place of me, I find who I am without the bonds of sin and the weakness of the flesh, and I live through Christ (or he through me) the fullest version of the life I was born for.
He writes: "God makes it quite clear in his Word that he has only one answer to every human need-- his son, Jesus Christ. In all his dealings with us he works by taking us out of the way and substituting Christ in our place. The Son of God died instead of us for our forgiveness: he lives instead of us for our deliverance. So we can speak of two substitutions-- a Substitute on the Cross who secures our forgiveness and a Substitute within who secures our victory."
The longer I live and serve God, the more I realize that there is really not much of anything we ever do or can do in this life. Our only part is to seek the face of God, to ask that he would reveal more of Christ to us, to ask that he would crucify us and help us to set aside our own selves. And the mystery of it all is that it is here where I begin to find fulfillment. When I set aside myself and let Christ live in place of me, I find who I am without the bonds of sin and the weakness of the flesh, and I live through Christ (or he through me) the fullest version of the life I was born for.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Power
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness. Through these He has given us His very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires." 2 Peter 1:3-4
In this season of ambitious resolutions, how is that for a promise? "His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us..." I came across this passage this week, and it struck me as so powerful in light of the lessons on 2 Timothy 2:22 from winter camp last week. As we flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, we are not alone and destined to fail at these pursuits as at so many resolutions. We are called (by the compound glory and goodness of God), and He also provides with everything we need for life and godliness, with great and precious promises of freedom from everything that holds us back from Him. Hallelujah!
In this season of ambitious resolutions, how is that for a promise? "His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us..." I came across this passage this week, and it struck me as so powerful in light of the lessons on 2 Timothy 2:22 from winter camp last week. As we flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, we are not alone and destined to fail at these pursuits as at so many resolutions. We are called (by the compound glory and goodness of God), and He also provides with everything we need for life and godliness, with great and precious promises of freedom from everything that holds us back from Him. Hallelujah!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Going after it
I was blessed this week to be a part of putting on a winter camp for high school students. The theme was "The Pursuit," based on 2 Timothy 2:22-- "Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart." I also recently read most of Alex and Brett Harris' book Do Hard Things (which I definitely recommend). The result of these things, and of spending time around a good number of people who are living lives in full pursuit of God, was a hard look at my own life.
What am I doing? Where am I going? In a session with all the girls at the camp, a major point of emphasis was the idea of trajectory. The path you're on leads to where you're going. The person you are becoming is the person you will be. The patterns you develop now are the habits you will either thank God for or have to break later. It starts now-- it has already started-- and it's going to go quicker than you realize.
The result of looking at my life was this: I came to the conclusion that I am doing "fine." And I came to the conclusion that I do not want to be doing "fine." I am not way off the path of righteousness, beating around in the bushes somewhere, entangled in sin and unable to see the light. I praise God for that, because I have spent some time in the bushes and have come out by His faithfulness alone. But if I am on the path, I am barely moving. I am in the Word, but is it really illuminating every step? I am praying, but is the Spirit of God speaking into the deepest parts of my soul? I am in fellowship with other believers, but are we encouraging each other to throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and run with perseverance the race marked out for us? Not really.
But I want to.
If Jesus is everything that I say He is, everything I proclaim Him to be through the course of my days, my life needs to be adjusted accordingly. He is the only goal worth pursuing for a lifetime, and I'm a quarter of the way through this lifetime already. It's time to go after it, to stop ambling along and begin to run again.
I hope I am not alone in this. I hope I am not the only person who came out of winter camp with this determination. I am writing in this blog again in order to encourage and challenge the young men and women that came to camp this week, and I am writing in order that you, by reading what I write, can hold me accountable to seeking truth from the Word of God. Let us run the race together, friends, and keep our eyes on the prize that is worth a thousand lifetimes!
What am I doing? Where am I going? In a session with all the girls at the camp, a major point of emphasis was the idea of trajectory. The path you're on leads to where you're going. The person you are becoming is the person you will be. The patterns you develop now are the habits you will either thank God for or have to break later. It starts now-- it has already started-- and it's going to go quicker than you realize.
The result of looking at my life was this: I came to the conclusion that I am doing "fine." And I came to the conclusion that I do not want to be doing "fine." I am not way off the path of righteousness, beating around in the bushes somewhere, entangled in sin and unable to see the light. I praise God for that, because I have spent some time in the bushes and have come out by His faithfulness alone. But if I am on the path, I am barely moving. I am in the Word, but is it really illuminating every step? I am praying, but is the Spirit of God speaking into the deepest parts of my soul? I am in fellowship with other believers, but are we encouraging each other to throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and run with perseverance the race marked out for us? Not really.
But I want to.
If Jesus is everything that I say He is, everything I proclaim Him to be through the course of my days, my life needs to be adjusted accordingly. He is the only goal worth pursuing for a lifetime, and I'm a quarter of the way through this lifetime already. It's time to go after it, to stop ambling along and begin to run again.
I hope I am not alone in this. I hope I am not the only person who came out of winter camp with this determination. I am writing in this blog again in order to encourage and challenge the young men and women that came to camp this week, and I am writing in order that you, by reading what I write, can hold me accountable to seeking truth from the Word of God. Let us run the race together, friends, and keep our eyes on the prize that is worth a thousand lifetimes!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Bread
I've spent a lot of time the past few months crunching numbers. On the plus side, I've become much more faithful in keeping track of my finances and knowing where every dollar goes. Today, though, I was convicted of how much I resemble the disciples in Matthew when they are confronted with Jesus' proposal of feeding the 5000 (and, later on, the 4000). The people are hungry. The disciples present the rational response: the people should go home and eat. Jesus counters with nonsense: they don't need to go anywhere because we will feed them. The disciples gather the food and crunch the numbers, but there is no way of stacking the five loaves and two fish that makes them look like anything more than a meal for a family of 6. They point this out to Jesus, and He prays for the food, breaks it, and gives it to the disciples to hand out. And they feed the five thousand, and leftovers abound.
I'm not sure where the food multiplies here, but it doesn't seem like it's before it starts to be handed out. Matthew doesn't tell us that Jesus waves his hands over the loaves and fish and they suddenly become numerous. He tells us that Jesus prays and thanks God for the food and then takes a tangible step of faith and asks His disciples to do the same.
Proverbs 30 caught my eye today. In verses 8 and 9 it says, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the Lord?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God." This goes so against everything I hold onto in my daily life. I want savings, a nest egg, something to fall back on when times get tough. I want a buffer between me and the grace of the Lord. But how much do we lose when we separate ourselves from the hand that feeds us? How much do we lose when we have so much that we can comfortably disown Him and live (we think) on our own resources? What would it look like to truly awake every day and depend on Him for that day's bread, the manna from Heaven that He will surely give to those who look to Him?
I'm not sure where the food multiplies here, but it doesn't seem like it's before it starts to be handed out. Matthew doesn't tell us that Jesus waves his hands over the loaves and fish and they suddenly become numerous. He tells us that Jesus prays and thanks God for the food and then takes a tangible step of faith and asks His disciples to do the same.
Proverbs 30 caught my eye today. In verses 8 and 9 it says, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the Lord?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God." This goes so against everything I hold onto in my daily life. I want savings, a nest egg, something to fall back on when times get tough. I want a buffer between me and the grace of the Lord. But how much do we lose when we separate ourselves from the hand that feeds us? How much do we lose when we have so much that we can comfortably disown Him and live (we think) on our own resources? What would it look like to truly awake every day and depend on Him for that day's bread, the manna from Heaven that He will surely give to those who look to Him?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Return (a few updates and a challenge)
It's funny how quickly a month flies by when one's routine is interrupted, but I am back now. After a few weeks of travel (oh, blessed time!) and another week of adjusting to a new job, my days of quiet reflection, reading, writing, and prayer seem more distant than they ought. My new schedule, still changing, won't allow for quite the same amount of introspection as the old one, but I do hope to maintain a few of the disciplines briefly explored during that time. Continue to check here for the fruit.
The purpose of this blog is not to provide a narrative of my life, so I will keep the personal details brief, but I would be remiss to skip over them entirely. The Lord has blessed me greatly over the past few months with opportunities to spend time with friends both new and old and to be encouraged and renewed. I have met new circles of friends in North Carolina, Chicago, Belgium, and Germany, and have been reunited with other friends: a dear partner from my ministry three years ago in Costa Rica and, at long last, my best friend, "the one whom my soul loves." Returning from these journeys, I found myself with a job that, while not perfect in every way, will pay the rent until I can find something better. God is faithful, and someday I will learn to give up guessing what is coming my way next; reality always surpasses anything I can invent.
As I return to Chicago and begin to settle into somewhat of a routine, with most of this year's many travels and transitions behind me and a long, perhaps lonely winter approaching, I struggle to find a sense of purpose. In talking with the aforementioned best friend earlier today, I found myself exclaiming, "I just don't feel like I'm doing anything!" I meant doing anything worthwhile, accomplishing anything for the Kingdom, and I was quickly reminded of a comment this friend had made a week or so ago. To paraphrase, he said that "it's not the things we're doing, but the type of person we're becoming, that matters to God."
This is a hard truth. I do things well. I love to do things. I have a resume over-full of things I've done and a to-do list of all the things that would, in my eyes, make my life "worthwhile." But, without the depth of character, that caliber of gold that can only come through refining fires, our acts and gifts and deeds are nothing but a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
Who are you? What type of person are you becoming? What caliber of person have you already become? Can you stand before the Lord, works set aside, and say you are satisfied in the work He has done in your character?
The purpose of this blog is not to provide a narrative of my life, so I will keep the personal details brief, but I would be remiss to skip over them entirely. The Lord has blessed me greatly over the past few months with opportunities to spend time with friends both new and old and to be encouraged and renewed. I have met new circles of friends in North Carolina, Chicago, Belgium, and Germany, and have been reunited with other friends: a dear partner from my ministry three years ago in Costa Rica and, at long last, my best friend, "the one whom my soul loves." Returning from these journeys, I found myself with a job that, while not perfect in every way, will pay the rent until I can find something better. God is faithful, and someday I will learn to give up guessing what is coming my way next; reality always surpasses anything I can invent.
As I return to Chicago and begin to settle into somewhat of a routine, with most of this year's many travels and transitions behind me and a long, perhaps lonely winter approaching, I struggle to find a sense of purpose. In talking with the aforementioned best friend earlier today, I found myself exclaiming, "I just don't feel like I'm doing anything!" I meant doing anything worthwhile, accomplishing anything for the Kingdom, and I was quickly reminded of a comment this friend had made a week or so ago. To paraphrase, he said that "it's not the things we're doing, but the type of person we're becoming, that matters to God."
This is a hard truth. I do things well. I love to do things. I have a resume over-full of things I've done and a to-do list of all the things that would, in my eyes, make my life "worthwhile." But, without the depth of character, that caliber of gold that can only come through refining fires, our acts and gifts and deeds are nothing but a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
Who are you? What type of person are you becoming? What caliber of person have you already become? Can you stand before the Lord, works set aside, and say you are satisfied in the work He has done in your character?
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