Man’s Best Friend

“The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”
John 10:2-5

I realize that some people are not dog people. I don’t understand it, but I do accept it as true. Even if you don’t love dogs as I do, I hope this resonates with you.

Cesar Milan says that a dog needs to walk with his pack. It’s a primal urge, dating back to when dogs were wild and they followed the pack leader in search of food and water. I certainly see this today in my dog. My wife is the primary walker; she enjoys long walks and Max loves to go with her. When the weather is bad, or life just gets hectic, he starts to get a bit stir crazy. He’ll come and put his head in your lap and wag his tail and hope you can read his mind and will take him on a “you know what.” When my wife’s walking buddy pulls up in front of the house, he lets out an excited yelp and races to and fro until the harness has been attached and he gets to go out.

He also loves to go for car rides. I suppose it’s the modern equivalent of roaming for food. The funny thing is, the only place I ever take him is to the vet (not his favorite place), but he still eagerly bounds through the garage and into the minivan whenever I invite him to. He loves nothing more than to be with (or better yet, go with) his people.

It’s no wonder that dogs have earned the title, “man’s best friend.” No other creature loves so selflessly, so unconditionally, forgiving all offenses and defending their “pack” with their lives. They listen attentively for their master’s voice and respond quickly. (When Max is barking in the back yard at the neighbor’s dog, I utter a single “sssst” from the second story bathroom through a closed window and he turns, looks at me, and runs to the door to come in). They want nothing more than to share life with their people.

The funny thing is, God doesn’t call us his dogs. He calls us sheep.

There’s no good way to put this. Sheep are dumb. OK, maybe that’s not fair. People who raise sheep say that they are actually quite clever, able to open gates and cross cattle guards. However, their strong flocking instinct makes them prone to follow whatever is in front of them, even if that leads to their demise. They are stubborn, willful, defenseless, and directionless. They need a shepherd to guide and protect them, to lead them to green pastures, and lead them away before they decimate the vegetation (sheep will graze a pasture to its roots if left alone).

Modern shepherds often use dogs (yay, dogs!) to help herd the sheep and move them where they want them to go. The dogs race around the herd, nipping at their ankles and “encouraging” them to go where the shepherd wants them. However, in ancient times, the shepherd lived with the flock, day and night. He protected them from predators, led them to green pastures, and tended to their needs. Over time, the sheep grew to know the shepherd’s voice and when it was time to move, he simply walked and called and the sheep followed. The natural herding instinct, properly channeled, provided safety and provision.

The key thing is the time spent listening to and learning the shepherd’s voice. Jesus said that his sheep know his voice. Why? Because they have spent time in his presence. As Bob Dylan said, “You gotta serve somebody.” It’s the nature of sheep to follow. The only question is whom will you follow.

The simple truth is, you are not like a dog, whose heart is inexorably bound to his master. You are a sheep, prone to follow whomever is in front of you. Learn to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd through time in his presence and follow wherever he leads. It’s a lot better than walking off a cliff.

I See You

The Lord your God is with you,
    the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
    but will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17

“I see you.” This line is a linchpin to the plot line of the movie Avatar. It conveys more than just acknowledgement of image recognition from the ocular receptors. It expresses an awareness of the existence, person-hood, significance of the other. When my dog comes to me with his tail wagging, his nose up and his eyes eagerly seeking mine, I often tell him “I see you.”

A friend of mine was telling me a story of when he worked in a fruit stand. He said that he would often come home depressed and distressed. He finally figured out that he had gone all day and no one had seen him. It sucked the life from his soul.

We all have an innate need for significance. I think that may be one reason why we love our pets so much (I’ll be generous here and include cats for you cat-lovers, but I cannot fathom how a cat makes you feel significant). My dog loves me with an unconditional love, which is odd because my wife is the one who walks him, feeds him, lets him outside. But when I’m home, he wants nothing more than to be in the room where I am. He craves my attention and affection, but is content when my activities don’t include him, as long as he can be near-by. To this animal, I am the most important person on earth, and his world revolves around me.

We look for significance in our families. As children we crave parental acknowledgement and approval. I watch toddlers tugging and pulling at mom or dad, trying to turn their attention from whatever they are doing and onto themselves. “Watch me!” is a cry heard often from the lips of children. What they are really saying is, “do you see me?” Some children will sacrifice and push themselves to significant accomplishments in an effort to make mom or dad proud. Others resort to destructive activities just to get attention, to be “seen”. Because if you don’t even know I exist, then do I matter?

We look for significance from the opposite sex, at great peril to our self-esteem. Will anyone find me attractive? Does anyone want to be with me? Do you see me? And should we find someone who is willing to walk along our journey with us, we put even more pressure on the relationship. We ask our spouses to be intimately aware and interested in our day-to-day activities (which often as not are not their activities, and their focus is naturally elsewhere). Inasmuch as the spoken or unspoken childlike cry of “Watch me!” is unheeded, we may feel a lack of significance. After all, if the most important person in my life doesn’t “see me”, then do I matter?

We look for significance in our work. Yet, in truth, few of us can claim that the fruits of our labors will outlast our memory. I’ve been working on the same project for nearly 15 years, and I’m pretty sure it will disappear shortly after I retire. All that I’ve “accomplished” will come to naught. What about the people with whom I’ve crossed paths? Will anyone come to my “going away” lunch? Will there be one? Do I matter?

As we age, often sequestered in “retirement communities”, we look back on a lifetime of experience and wonder if there is anyone to share it with. in particular, do our children, in whom we invested so much of the energy of our youth, have any desire to be a part of our life? Does anyone want to hear our story? Does anyone see me? Do I matter?

The Bible teaches that God, the creator of the universe, the one who placed countless stars in the sky and put the earth in orbit around one; he who established boundaries for the oceans, raised up the mountains and lowered the valleys; who placed the moon in the sky to provide light in the night and cleanse the oceans with the tides; who filled the earth with green plants and adorned it with colorful flowers; who causes the trees to erupt in a cacophony of color before shedding their leaves for the stillness of winter; who delights in creating eagles and hawks to soar majestically above the earth and penguins and ostriches who cannot fly at all, and the albatross, who is inept at take-off and landing but who can fly for long distances without flapping; this God knows you and calls you by name, he has numbered the hairs on your head and loves you so fiercely, so passionately, so completely that he saw no choice but to die for your sake, so that you can be forgiven of your sins and restored to the relationship with Him that he has always desired; this God sees you.

If you are searching for significance, the only reliable place to start is with God. He will never leave you nor forsake you. You matter to him.

If you have significance, make an effort to give it to others.

  • Interact with your parents, and other older people. Listen to their memories, ask their opinion. Make time to include them in your world.
  • Give your spouse the gift of your undivided attention. Engage them in their world, and show interest in what they are interested in.
  • Be present with your children. Get on their level and see what they see. Touch them, hold them, tickle them. Let them know that you see them.
  • Take the time to interact with the people you encounter. Speak to the people who serve you: the lady at the store checkout, the waiter at the restaurant, the person who services your heater.
  • Pet your dog.

You never know how much you may impact someone’s life because you made the effort to say, “I see you.”

I am gonna confess, support me

And do not get drunk with wine, for that is dissipation, but be filled with the Spirit
Ephesians 5:18 (NASB)

I’ve always resonated with this translation of this verse, even if it’s not the most accurate. The word “dissipate” evokes the image of a cloud of smoke steadily expanding until it has been subsumed into the vastness of the atmosphere around it. It is an evaporation, a wasting of what was once something into nothingness. In the context of the passage, drunkenness can clearly be seen to be a dissipation of the gift of life. Now, the use or non-use of alcohol is one of those taboo topics in many Christian circles. Some, in a pharisaical attempt to avoid transgressing this instruction avoid all alcohol. Others choose to imbibe in moderation. But that’s not what this post is about.

There was a game of “tag” going around on Facebook. Someone posts a particular (potentially outrageous) status. Anyone who “likes” or comments on it is required to post one of the status messages on their wall. I was caught, and posted the subject status. One of my dear friends, who has been instrumental in challenging my works-based perception of value and approval (although I doubt she has a clue how significantly she’s impacted me), got caught but refused to play. She claimed not to have enough time for games on Facebook, although we probably spent as much time talking about it as it would have taken to play. Still, she has drawn a line governing her on-line actions, and I respect that. One thing she said was, “I’ve seen several people post this but no confession is forthcoming.” Well, here it is.

I had an odd dream. A friend and elder in our church was teaching and used a “colorful” word that is common in our society. In my dream, I challenged him on it, and he said, “I’ll deal with it when God speaks to me about it.” I accept that we all have plenty of sin to work on in our lives, and I generally choose not to try to play the Holy Spirit with other people, but this was public and egregious, and Christians just shouldn’t use that word! In my dream, as I tried to make my case on why this needed to be addressed now, I remember saying this line. “If your little devotion doesn’t result in God speaking to you about your life, then it’s a waste of time.” In my dream, the next thing I heard was God saying to me, “And what am I speaking to you?”

The word amuse derives from the old French word muser, meaning to stupify. Also evident are the Latin roots a (not) and muse (to think deeply). In other words, “amuse” is to not think. That’s a pretty fair description of many of our amusements. We may sit in front of the “boob tube” to be entertained (amused) or play “mindless games” on the phone or computer, sometimes as a means of unwinding from a long or stressful day. For the current generation, it’s as likely to be watching the drama and inanity of people’s lives stream by on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.

Whatever your chosen amusement, I’m not here to speak against entertainment. No, rather I’m here to confess the dissipation of my life through amusement. I sit down in front of my computer and my favorite pastimes (think about what that means as well) reach out and grab me, immobilizing me and causing the precious hours of my life to evaporate into history, with nothing to show for it.

Periodically, I’ll take a Quixotic tilt at my addiction, typically for Lent or maybe Advent. Or maybe just an ad hoc fast to prove it doesn’t have absolute power over me. However, I can’t hide from what God is speaking to me any more. Nor am I content to watch my life pass like a puff of smoke. I’m not sure what this is going to look like, but I know that it’s time to put away those things that waste my time, and to give myself to more worthwhile pursuits.

What is God speaking to you? Are you even listening? Are you putting yourself in a place where you can hear, or are you trying to hide? Or are you walking in power? As Christians, it is our heritage and right as adopted sons and daughters of the Most High God to live lives victorious over sin. This doesn’t mean that sin is mystically excised from our lives. It means that we get to look it in the face and put a knife through its heart and live in obedience to God, rather than in slavery to our lusts and passions.

When it Rains…

If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?
1 John 3:17

Sunday morning our class was praying for the flood victims. And I was convicted that it’s one thing to pray that God would comfort those who suffered loss in the floods, any yet another to “put feet to it” and do something concrete to help.

It’s not a good time. I have 2 in college (again!), and just completed a remodel that drained the free cash. But we are warm, dry, and well fed. I’m sure it’s not a good time for those suffering from the rains, either. How can I sit in luxury and not have compassion on those who have lost so much?

If you would like to join me in helping the hurting, consider The Salvation Army, LifeBridge Church, or The Red Cross. Or, if you know someone affected by the rains/floods, be bold and give directly to them. As James said,

Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?
James 2:16-17

Τετέλεσται

John 19:30

We’ve just completed our latest insanity, a kitchen remodel. Several years ago, when we ripped off the back of our house and added a two-story addition, my wife found a cartoon of a man at the entrance to hell. The devil is showing him two doors, labeled “Eternal Fire and Brimstone” and “Living through a remodel”. The man says, “It’s pretty much a toss up”. That’s how we feel about home renovations. Yet we keep doing them.

This remodel has been particularly difficult. It’s hard to imagine just how central your kitchen is to your home’s functioning until yours is gutted and your basement looks like a bad garage sale, with dishes, pots and random food articles strewn about. My wife had grand visions of grilling out every day, or using the crock pot or the George Foreman grill. The reality is that we have been living off frozen dinners and delivered pizza for the past month.

The disorientation of having people in your house, making messes and noises every day is hard to imagine. I’m hopeful that my wife never wants to make another trip to Lowes, since she’s been such a fixture there that they are about to give her a reserved parking spot. I think one day she went 3 times before noon. My poor dog knows he’s supposed to bark at strangers, but isn’t sure what a stranger is anymore.

There were times when I wasn’t sure my wife would be able to hold it together. From the days when no work was done (despite being told that someone would be there), to the things that weren’t done right the first time, to the things that we were pretty sure should have been done sooner, it has been a challenge to remind myself that only the finished product matters. I think of the saying that “people who love sausage and respect the law should never watch either one being made.” I think home improvement projects might also fall into that category.

Now the invasion is complete. The result is stunning, and more than we ever dreamed of. All of my wife’s ambitions have been realized and both she and my daughter are eagerly awaiting many years of culinary conquests. Tomorrow I will give our contractor the final payment and we will close that chapter of our lives. When I posted the picture of the completed kitchen on my Facebook page, my caption read, “It. Is. Finished.”

But as I reflect on the verse that inspired me, I realize there is so much more than just a pithy quote to conclude a monumental project. The Greek word translated “it is finished” speaks of a completion of accomplishment, or a fulfillment of purpose. Despite the cinematic portrayals of Christ on the cross gasping out each syllable, I rather suspect this this was a triumphal cry. Jesus wasn’t just quietly marking the cessation of his suffering on the cross. He was celebrating the beginning of something new.

In other words, when Jesus said “it is finished”, he basically said “I’ve done everything there is to do.” He closed the door on all of his working. Just as in Genesis when God completed the work of creation and rested, in Hebrews it says, “But when this priest had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God.”

Historically, this word, or some abbreviation of it, was written across a bill that had been paid in full, indicating that no further obligation remained. In other words, Jesus wrote across the bill of our debt from sin “it is finished” (paid in full). I’ve written it on my last check to the contractor.

My family is very excited that this remodel is done, not just because it was a pain that we had to endure, but because the result is amazing. It is beautiful, and more functional than what we had before. It will bring joy to our lives and help us to entertain and fulfill the purposes we have for our house.

So, when Jesus said, “it is finished”, he wasn’t just declaring an end to his work and suffering. He was celebrating the result that is amazing. Because of his finished work, we now have the right to become sons of God; to be translated from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light. It brings joy to God’s heart for sinners to be redeemed, and to be able to walk in the purposes he has for them.

One final thought. My contractor won’t be working on my house tomorrow, because “it is finished”. Are you still trying to work your way into God’s favor? It isn’t necessary. It is finished.

Father’s Day

For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how. But God’s discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in his holiness. No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.
Hebrews 12:10-11 NLT

I usually approach Father’s Day with my thoughts towards my dad. I think about all he has given me, both genetically and environmentally (nature and nurture), and I’m grateful. I have a wonderful heritage that goes back several generations, and I hope will extend forward several more. I am truly blessed and don’t want to take that for granted.

I tend to forget to think about Father’s Day from the perspective of being a father. At this point, most of my overt parenting is done. I still have a couple of years with my youngest before she launches out in independence to live her own great adventure, but with three adult children making their way in the world, my own fatherhood is more of a reflection than an active role. I am often in awe of the influential role God has given me, not only in the lives of my four children, but also with some of their friends.

The Bible presents God as father. This analogy is designed to communicate to us at a more visceral level God’s love and provision for us, and the security that we can derive from his identity, shared with us. Unfortunately, that message is not always clearly received.

The problem with understanding God as father is that we look to our earthly father to understand what that means. I don’t know what your experience was like, but I can pretty much guarantee that your father was not perfect. Mine wasn’t. Neither am I a perfect father.

I don’t mean to belittle my father. I love and respect him. He provided for us, he loved and honored his marriage commitment to my mother, he lived as an example to me of what discipline, honor, and integrity look like. In many ways, I strive to emulate my father. Most of my dominant character traits I share with him. As the saying goes, “I am my father’s son.”

But he was unable or unwilling to have the kind of relationship with that I wanted as a child. And I vowed that things would be different when I was a father. Perhaps you can think of similar areas where you have made a similar vow.

The problem with judgements like that is that they tend to control you. Either you end up acting in the same way, or you act in exactly the opposite way, but in either case you are being controlled by your judgement. When my first child was born, I felt compelled to interact with him during his every waking moment when I was home. And it was sucking the life out of me.

You see, another thing I share with my father is that I’m an introvert. I need time alone to recharge my batteries. Being with people, even the people I love, is draining for me. It wasn’t until I released my father from my judgement and allowed myself to be who God created me to be that I found my equilibrium.

Some years later, as I was coming to terms with being an adult (as an interesting side topic, how old were you when you felt like an adult?), I spoke to my dad about my disappointments with his parenting. Honestly, I wanted him to agree with and apologize for my assessments of his inadequacies. Instead, he simply said, “I did the best I could at the time.”

I found that disappointing, until I had some more experience being a father under my belt. On this side of parenting, I find it quite profound. No matter what grand intentions, glorious dreams, or lofty aspirations we have when it comes to parenting, as broken, fallen human beings we are sure to fall short. As Paul said in the letter to the Romans, “The good I want to do, I don’t do. But the evil I don’t want to do, I do anyway.” We are not capable of being perfect parents any more than we are capable of being perfect people. On any given day, at any given time, the best we can do is the best we can do. Even if our best today is not as good as our best yesterday (or tomorrow), it is what it is.

But here is the point. While our earthly fathers share the title with our heavenly father, the analogy is not such that God is defined by their actions. Rather, God is the ideal to which all fathers should strive. Unfortunately, along the path to knowing God, we tend to fill in a lot of the blank spots based on our experience.

Because God is identified as “father” does not simply make him a magnified version of our earthly father, with all his imperfections amplified. Was your father angry? God is not more angry. Did your father neglect or abandon you? God is not distant or dispassionate. Did your father criticize and belittle you? God is not judgmental. Was your father domineering and controlling? God is not a cosmic killjoy, trying to ruin your life.

Whatever flaws your father demonstrated to you were his alone. His failings do not define God. I would submit, rather, that our awareness of these imperfections, the empty longing they create in our hearts, is an indication of who God is and the relationship with him that we were created to have. As Laura Story wrote in her song, “Blessings”

What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy

One other thing I share with my father: I’m not perfect either. On this Father’s Day, don’t let the imperfections of your earthly father keep you away from approaching and knowing your heavenly father. Instead, allow God to be for you what your father was not. On this Father’s Day, honor the man who gave you life. Honor the man who taught you how to live. And turn your heart towards the only one capable of loving you with perfect, sacrificial love.

Squirrel!

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.”

At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.

“Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”
Isaiah 6:1-5

In Pixar Studio’s animated film, “Up”, Dug is a a loving Golden Retriever who can talk, thanks to a special collar. He doesn’t fit in with the rest of the vicious pack of dogs who have been trained to find the beast of Paradise Falls. Apart from seeing the best in everyone, Dug is notable for being distracted in mid-sentence when he sees a squirrel.

In Isaiah 6, the prophet gets a rare glimpse into heaven and sees God as he is, covered in glory and majesty, and surrounded by praise that is beyond what is known on the earth. In the presence of God’s holiness, he sees his own sinfulness and inadequacy in stark contrast and he despairs.

Why is this passage so unusual? Why do we not see God in this light (if not this exact manifestation) more often. I propose it is because … SQUIRREL! … we get distracted.

This morning, like many Sunday mornings, as my heart was called to worship in the church service, several things clamored for my attention, each of them seemingly determined to prevent me from entering the holy place and seeing the Lord. Perhaps you’ve experienced this too. I don’t know what your distractions are; perhaps the music is too loud or too fast or too slow. Perhaps the guitar is out of tune or the vocalist is off pitch. Maybe it’s the people in front of you who are talking, or that the church is too crowded or too empty.

Maybe your distractions have nothing to do with the physical surroundings, but are internal. Health issues, family conflict, financial difficulties, impending significant choices, disappointment, or uncertainty can all call us away from God.

The thing I notice about my distractions is that they always seem to focus attention on me, and away from Him. I have found a need of the discipline of “taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” and willfully setting my mind and my heart on my God and his glory. I choose to ignore the squirrels and give my full attention to my master. And in that place, sometimes, I see the Lord. No, my vision doesn’t match Isaiah’s (I’m not sure how I would react if it did!), but I am always changed by the encounter.

How about you? Have you seen the Lord lately? Are you willing to ignore the squirrels and look to the master?

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Epiphany

But “when the kindness of God our Savior and his love for mankind appeared, he saved us not by works of righteousness that we have done but on the basis of his mercy, through the washing of the new birth and the renewing of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us in full measure through Jesus Christ our Savior. And so, since we have been justified by his grace, we become heirs with the confident expectation of eternal life.”

This saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on such truths, so that those who have placed their faith in God may be intent on engaging in good works. These things are good and beneficial for all people.
Titus 3:4-8 (NET)

Our Bible study group was in Titus 3 this week, and I was struck by the conciseness and completeness of this little passage. In just four short verses, Paul lays out the whole of the Gospel and provides the context for Christian living. Let me unpack it with you.

“But when the kindness of God … appeared…” First, let me disclaim that I am not a Greek scholar. I’ve never even studied Greek. But I do know how to use a concordance. The Greek word for “appeared” here is ἐπιφαίνω (epiphainō). Since I’m not a scholar, don’t read too much into this. But the idea is like stars that become visible as the darkness grows. In other words, it’s something that was always there, but not always known, or visible.

God’s kindness and love for mankind have existed since before the creation. It was in his kindness that he placed the man and the woman in an ideal environment, in perfect fellowship with him, even though they chose to sin. It was in his kindness that he killed an animal and covered their nakedness. It was even his kindness that caused them to die as a result of their sin (can you imagine living forever in this fallen state?). It was his kindness that engaged a man named Abram and unilaterally made a covenant with him to bless the whole world through him. But as Hebrews says of the Old Testament saints, “They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth” (Hebrews 11:13). What was promised had not been revealed.

We also noted that the root of the Greek word is the same as the English word “epiphany”. In English, “epiphany” has a more powerful context than just the appearing of the stars, it’s a revelation of life-changing proportions. Whether the Greek supports this or not, I think it is fair to say that the appearing of God’s kindness and love for mankind through Christ is life-changing. At least, it certainly changed my life. I pray that you will let it change your life as well.

So how was God’s love revealed? “He saved us.” That is certainly good news. Every religion on the face of the earth prescribes rules by which man may somehow hope to become acceptable to God. And every religion falls short. The truth, which all of us know in the depths of our souls, is that nothing we can do can fix our relationship with God. We are sinful people. We do sinful things. We don’t deserve love and kindness.

And that’s the mystery. God was the initiator. He saved us. And just to make sure the point is clear, Paul continues, “not because of righteous things we had done” (NIV). Nothing you can do will make a difference in your relationship with God. Your religion will not get you closer to God. Most people, if you ask them about their eternal destiny will give an answer along the lines of “I hope I’ve been good enough. I try to be a good person.” But your good works have nothing to do with God revealing his kindness and love to you.

Instead, he has done everything that is necessary, and you have nothing to add. It’s by his mercy. Because he wanted to, he provided the atonement (payment) for your evil and offered you the opportunity to be born into his kingdom. His kindness and love are revealed through “the washing of the new birth and the renewing of the Holy Spirit.” Once someone comes to him through faith in Jesus, they become something totally new. The new birth speaks of the radical transition from being enemies of God to being beloved children. The renewing of the Holy Spirit speaks the the daily transformation that occurs as the Christian continues to walk in fellowship with him.

This is such a radical departure from what we expected, and what we know that we deserve that many people have a hard time accepting it. “Well, maybe I will go to heaven, but God can’t use me. I’m not even sure he really likes me.” So just to make clear the magnitude of God’s kindness and love, Paul goes on to say about the Holy Spirit, “whom he poured out on us in full measure”. The English is a little weak here. Other translations say “richly” or “abundantly”. It’s the same word used to describe rich people, who shouldn’t trust in their wealth. In other words, in God’s economy, you are the 1%. Whether you feel like it or not, you are a prince or princess, a child of the King. Everything he has is yours. Not because you deserve it. Not because you earned it. Just because of his kindness and love.

Now, I want to make a clear stand here, because there are many voices who would agree with (most of) what I’ve said and yet try to water down the message of the Gospel through universalism. The clear message is that this has been done “through Jesus Christ our Savior”. The Bible is consistent and clear that there is only one way to fellowship with the Father and that is through the Son. The context of this passage is that Paul is writing to Titus, whom he has commissioned to establish order in the young church at Crete. The “us” who were saved are those who trust in Jesus as savior and messiah. The gift is available to all, but it must be accepted on God’s terms, not yours.

The final bit of good news is in the last verse, “so that those who have placed their faith in God may be intent on engaging in good works.” Wait a minute, I thought we just established that good works have nothing to do with salvation? That’s true, and that’s the good news. Since we have nothing to prove, no favor to gain, no ladders to climb, we are free to rejoice and revel in our restored relationship with God. And out of that will flow good works.

My favorite analogy on the Christian life is this: Why does a dog bark? Does he bark to be more of a dog, or to gain greater dog acceptance? No, a dog barks because that’s what dogs do. It’s in his nature. So why does a Christian do good works? Is it to earn salvation or to gain greater approval from God? No, these things already belong to the child of God. Rather, doing good works is what Christians do. It’s in their (heavenly) nature.

Now, to be true to the text, there is a bit more urgency than that. Paul is exhorting us to devote intentional and concerted effort towards good works. The word translated “be intent” means “to be thoughtful, or anxious”. In other words, doing good works should preoccupy our thoughts. Interestingly, the word translated “engaging” is elsewhere translated “to rule”. So still, the idea is not that we dig down deep and pull up our bootstraps and force out some good works. Rather, it suggests just that we participate with God in these good works; that good works flow out of our (new) nature. Our attention need to be that nothing gets in the way of this nature expressing itself through good works.

If that’s not good news, I don’t know what is. I pray your eyes are opened and you experience the epiphany of God’s kindness and love.

Prayer

“When you pray…”
Matthew 6:7a

The follower of Christ has a unique privilege not available to the unbelieving world. Because of the finished work of the cross, we have the freedom to boldly come before God and pour out our hearts. We can talk and the creator and ruler of the universe will listen. And if we are careful to listen back, he will speak. Now, if we truly believed this, then nothing could keep us from prayer. And yet, almost everything does.

I don’t know about you, but I have prayer scars. I gave my life to Christ at a very young age. I’ve continued to grow in my faith, surrendering more fully at several points in the journey, as my understanding increased. I have, for the most part, lived according to my understanding of what it means to be a Christian, even to the point of pharisaical legalism. I have read and studied the scriptures, allowing them to direct me and influence me in everything I do. I have asked God for guidance at every major life point, and several times in between. But when push came to shove, when I put it all on the line and believed God to do what otherwise could not be done in my life… God let me down. I asked God for a miracle, and in silence he said, “No.” And it hurts. So what’s the point?

The ugly truth is, we all want a God we can manipulate. Truth is, we want a genii in a bottle, beholden to grant us our three (three is such a small number, let’s make it much higher) wishes. For some reason God (the creator and ruler of the universe) doesn’t feel any obligation to comply with our desires.

I believe with all my being that God is sovereign. That means that, since he created this universe, he is in control of everything that happens. So what’s the point of praying, if God is going to do what he wants to do in the first place?

Prayer goes awry when we think that by our prayers we will manipulate God. When that happens, we have put our own desires, our own ego in the preeminent place and demanded that God bow down to them and serve them. As James says, “you do not have because you do not ask; you ask and do not receive because you ask wrongly, so you can spend it on your passions.” (James 4:2-3)

Jesus didn’t suggest to his disciples that it might be a good idea to pray. He assumed that this would be a natural, normal part of their life and worship. God expects us to pray.

I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions. They are so easily broken, and often lead to more guilt than transformation. But God has been convicting me that I need to be more faithful in praying. I need to pray for my children, that they will be drawn into a more intimate relationship with God, that they will shine as lights in the darkness of this world, for their marriage and spouse (even for those not married). I need to pray for my wife and my own marriage, that we will continue to grow in intimacy and that we will pursue God together. I need to pray for my brothers, that they would be men of God in their own families and that they would be spiritual leaders of their homes. I need to pray for my parents, that they would hold fast to the truth and finish well in the race that is set before them. I need to pray for those missionaries and organizations that receive my financial support, that they would be effective in doing the work of God in this world, and that they would have wisdom to face the decisions the come across every day. I need to pray for my government, the our leaders would be humble before God and would govern justly, that we might live quiet lives of peace.

I need to pray.

Will God act because of my prayers? I don’t know. What I do know is that I have a closer relationship with the people I talk with than I do with those whom I ignore. I will choose to obey rather than to manipulate. I re-affirm my position as subject and not sovereign. Whether I change God or not, I fully anticipate and expect to be changed myself.

And isn’t that really the point?

When you Assume…

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
1 Corinthians 13:12 (KJV)

I just took my daughter and her husband of six months to the airport, after spending nearly two weeks with them over Christmas. I really haven’t spent much time with my son-in-law, but I feel like I know him well. How can both of these things be true?

We as humans have an amazing ability to reason with incomplete information. In assessing other people, we tend to fill in the gaps by assuming that they are just like us. After all these years, I’m still surprised when I’m jarred into the realization that other people aren’t like me. In the case of my son-in-law, he is enough like me that I am lulled into the complacent assumption that I really know him. The truth, though, is that he cannot possibly be like me. I’ve lived 30 years and been married 26 years longer than he. I’ve had a multitude of experiences that he has never had. Conversely, he has lived a life completely different from the one I’ve known. So how can he possibly be just like me?

This same phenomenon is true even in our closest relationships. With my wife, it’s probably safe to say that 90+% of our conflicts are because one spouse doesn’t view the world with the same set of expectations as the other. How can this “bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” be so utterly different from me? Viewed rationally, it’s no surprise; opposites often attract and my wife and I are are living proof. In every personality assessment we’ve ever taken, we are polar opposites. Yet we still persist in expecting the other to know what we want and think how we think.

Now, to be fair, this ability to “fill in the gaps” usually allows us to make useful generalizations. If it weren’t so useful, we probably wouldn’t do it. But it’s important that our constructed façade that represents people in our thinking not be taken as the true reality. People will fail to fit into the mold we have created for them, and we must give them the freedom to be who they really are, and not just who we expect them to be.

So it is with God. Tautologically, God is infinite and beyond human comprehension. Therefore, there are a lot of “gaps” to be filled in. God is presented in scripture as our father, so many people fill in their own father (with all the brokenness) as they try to fathom God. If my human father was distant and disappointed me, then I assume that God will do the same. Other people will gravitate to one of the attributes of God (“God is love”) and create an image filled only with that one aspect (“a loving God would never condemn anyone to hell”).

The Trinity is a difficult theological concept for many people to grasp. I suspect it is because we have no suitable analogue for it in the creation. A friend pointed out to me how different denominations tend to focus on one aspect of the trinity over the others. The liturgical traditions emphasize God the Father, filled with awe and reverence. Evangelicals emphasize Jesus, our brother and savior. Charismatic groups emphasize the Holy Spirit, working in our midst.

The truth is, whatever your image of God, it is incomplete. As a Pharisee, I focused on God’s holiness and the eventual judgement of all who fail to believe. Then God jarred my mental construct and I glimpsed the depths of his fathomless grace. Recently, I had my mind stretched again, regarding why God chose the cross (please read the link). Our mental constructs are useful, but we shouldn’t let them get in the way of God being God.

God will surprise you. He will not fit your expectations or assumptions. So how can we know him? First engage with his revelation of himself in the scriptures. When what you read doesn’t mesh with your internal construct, challenge your image. Second, engage with him in prayer (more on this later). The best way to get to know someone is to talk with them. Third, engage with a community of believers with whom you can exchange ideas.

And one day, it will all be clear.