And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail (Isaiah 58:11).
Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst" (John 6:35).
**Author's note: The following post may contain caffeine-deprived drivel. Proceed with caution.**
I'm doing a 21-day fast of coffee and sweets.
Those of you who know me are having a heart attack right now. Never thought you'd see the day, huh?
Well, just so you know, I am not doing it to be healthier, so put those fears aside. It's really a mental fast more than anything. (If I stare blankly into space, don't blame me, blame Jesus. As a matter of fact, you can pretty much blame Him for any positive change that has ever occurred in my life. Ever. It's all His fault.)
Did you know that most online impulse buying happens between 9 and 10 pm? If you're surprised by that, you shouldn't be. When we're tired and feel like our day has gone wrong, we want a quick fix. At night, when we are programmed to seek intimacy and fellowship, we turn instead to the sterile glow of our computer screens.
Why? Because it's easier.
In the morning, it's a lot easier for me to pour a big cup of warm, sugary caffeine (mmmm....) to rev up my day than actually sit still in the presence of God and wait (patience, ugh) to hear what He has to say to me. At night, when I should be pleased to spend my last waking moments with the King of the Universe, I text my friends, because that requires less emotional energy than interacting with God (or even calling anyone on the phone, for that matter). When I feel tired, I know just how to manipulate my body's energy level with candy. When I'm angry, I shovel cookies out of spite instead of looking at the situation with perspective.
You see where I'm going with this. Fasting isn't an issue of willpower or health or religion. It's an issue of the heart. (Check out Isaiah 58 if you don't believe me.)
The pastor of my old church likes to use the term "false refuge" to describe those things that are easy, low-investment-high-return, and instantly gratifying. Emotional drugs. Like Oreos. Build-A-Bear Workshops. Vegging out to emo music. Leaning on your friends' affirmation and approval. They're the places we go when we feel down on ourselves, when we feel depressed or lonely, or we simply feel tired.
They're the places we go instead of going to Jesus to get splashed in the face with the ice-cold, refreshing living water of truth.
False refuge is false hope.
You knew some scripture was coming. Roll it:
We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek (Hebrews 6:19-20).
Hope is the reason you get up every day.
What's your hope? Graduation day? Your future spouse? Key lime pie? Running a marathon? Your daily Coke can? That vacation? That friendship? Or even gratification of a sinful desire? Fill in the blank: "I really could make it if I just had _________ to look forward to...."
Let me tell you, my friend: we have a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul. His name is not Caramel Macchiato. It's Jesus Christ.
Am I challenging you? Do you want to punch me in the face right now? Good. I hope I am challenging you. And I don't mind if you want to punch me in the face, since we have a nice cushion of cyberspace between us.
Several years ago, I went through a phase of serious doubt about God's existence and goodness. I was severely depressed, and I remember thinking that, if God wasn't real--if this eternal hope wasn't mine after all--I would rather just go ahead and die.
Because I came through that, circling back into relationship with Him, I know in Whom I hope. I am firmly resolved that He is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I will never swerve from that. But sometimes, other things try to distract me from my eternal hope. They seek to convince me that they are the reason I wake up every day. Things as small as a cup of coffee, or as impactful as close friendships.
One of my very, very best friends left the country this week. She'll be gone for a year. I used to seek refuge in her friendship, as well as the friendships and ministries that surrounded me in Virginia. But God told me He had bigger things in store than me just staying where I was with the people I was around.
In fact, He told me He had bigger things in store than me just staying me.
Now I'm coming around to the real point I'm trying to make.
When we live with the Holy Spirit, we live with the daily surrender of our hopes (as defined by the world or our experience or simply our physical desires) for the awesomeness of His reality.
So I had to grieve my friendship. I had to grieve the good times that I won't get to have with her this year, the fact that she will miss big parts of my life, even the ability to communicate with her at all for certain lengths of time. I had to go through some grief about my past year of life at large, the things I loved that I had to leave behind in my pursuit of obedience to Him.
But grief is never about what you lost, because the good things will always be in your memory. You can't lose those. Grief is about what you will never get to have.
At our basest, we grieve the sinful pleasures that we don't get to use to satisfy our flesh. But once you wake up and smell the coffee (or not, in my case), you realize that those things weren't so great to begin with; and then you begin to grieve even "good" idols: ministry dreams, godly relationships, marriage, even material blessings. It's not that we don't get to have those things. It's that we don't get to put them before God Himself. We don't get to place our hope in them, which is a painful thing to realize.
And He doesn't stop there.
Then Jesus told his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Matthew 16:24)
We must continually surrender not just "what we want," but who we are. As Spirit-filled followers of Christ, we are always in the process of grief. Grief for a dead person. And the dead person is YOU.
Before you go nuts, let me say that God doesn't seek to destroy you or dishonor you. He made you! He does not seek to take away our dreams. He is the one who plants dreams in our hearts. No, He's after something bigger than our dreams: ourselves. He's out to change our focus to the only thing that never changes (Malachi 3:6, James 1:17) and that always satisfies (Psalm 107:9, Psalm 145:16): Himself.
So, whether I feel it at 5:30 a.m. or not, my coffee fast is kingdom business. Although it doesn't seem like a big thing, turning away from the candy bars in the vending machine at work changes my heart, bit by bit. I can't hope in my next moment of instant gratification. God won't let me settle for that. He's much too big.
So I'm not fasting just to fast, picking an arbitrary luxury to cut out of my life because my pastor asked me to do it for 21 days. If that's what you do when you fast, it's kind of pointless. It doesn't matter that you fast, but what you fast. It wouldn't help me to fast Facebook, since I rarely get on, or Chicken McNuggets, since I don't eat those. But it will help me to fast the things I run to for false refuge when I should be snuggling close to God.
I'm fasting to get closer to my Father. I am seeking to remove the option of doing anything but that.
I haven't seen any angels or had any visions (yet), but already (this is day #5) I have been astounded at both my own inability to cope with exhaustion (went to bed at 9:30 last night, holla!)...and His ability to sustain me in spite of myself.
Wow--the One who made the universe can give me strength, joy, and peace. What a shocker.
I won't say I haven't grieved. But the sugar and coffee grief is light (and mostly consists of me falling asleep). In the case of the forced fast of my close friendships, I have experienced the deep pain of loss. I know that the friendships I left behind when I moved will never be the same as they were. My relationship with my world-traveling friend will, of course, never be quite the same.
But that's because we will all change, for the better.
When God performs a coup d'etat on our hearts and dethrones the old, dead false hopes that have tried to reign there, we feel chaotic and sad; but when it's all over (sooner rather than later...#psalms30:5), what we receive in return is His living hope (1 Peter 1:3).
We receive Jesus, the bread of life. Chew on THAT!
In the Christian life, it's NEVER loss. It's exchange. We're going higher. If you open your hand to drop what's in it, you can reach up toward the face of the One who gives you life.
The Christian life is constant movement from grief to grace. That is the beautiful gift He gives us in His Son, Jesus Christ.
"Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourself in rich food" (Isaiah 55:1-2).
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Mirror, Mirror
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways (James 1:5-8).
That doesn't really sound like the description of someone who can walk on water, does it?
James is kind of straight-up. No dilly-dallying around the point for him. You know--he's the one who begins his letter with "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds...." If the New Testament writers were contestants on a reality show, James would be the no-nonsense personal trainer that doesn't take anyone's drama.
At least, that's the way I've always pictured him, and a lot of people think James is a book meant to terrify people into religion (doing "good works" to get into heaven). But I think these are oversimplifications (and misrepresentations) of James's heart.
I think James wanted us to know that it's time to put our faith out there and believe for the BIG. His book is a book that gives mighty examples of faith by people who knew God--and dares to assert that we, too, can know Him and see our faith at work in the world in big ways. I only read the first chapter this morning, but it kind of blew my socks off. (Not literally, for which I am thankful, because my apartment is very cold this time of year.)
James was writing to believers of the Dispersion, those who lived outside of the Palestine area where Jesus' ministry took place. In case you were wondering, that's you. (Unless I've picked up some readers from first-century Jerusalem.)
James warns his readers: Do not be deceived. That's a pretty important thing for believers to remember. There are so many lies about God's identity and our identity that we can become confused.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures (1:16-18).
This is serious confidence about the goodness of God and the status He gives His sons and daughters, especially for someone who has just finished encouraging his readers to be steadfast in trial. It's one thing to be sure of God's identity in good times, but it's another to be firmly convinced of His goodness during bad times.
That's no-nonsense faith.
People like to turn James into a book of victimization ("Christians are persecuted people who have to suffer in silence"), or a book about "faith versus works" to prove salvation. I could discuss either of these things for hours, and I might do so with you if you ever take me out to coffee. (Be ye warned.) I think, though, that this heavy first chapter (which I also would like to discuss in more detail...want to go get coffee?) sets up the theme for the book.
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing (1:22-25).
I think a lot of people read that and immediately rush out to "do" a bunch of things, such as running church committees and fundraising for orphans and donating all their money to charity and running a 5k for cancer. I don't think there is anything wrong with these things (particularly if I start a charity and am in need of your funding). But I also don't think this is what James is talking about.
You probably look at yourself in the mirror every morning. Some people need more mirror time than others, and some need to look repeatedly throughout the day...you know, those of us who have a propensity to dropping ketchup on our shirts. But when you turn away from the mirror, you probably instantly stop thinking about what you look like. After all, if you're not looking in a mirror, you can't really see yourself.
Obviously, James is not talking about a real mirror. He compares a mirror to the perfect law, the law of liberty. He says that if we will look at that, and remember it, and do it, we will be blessed.
What does that mean? How do we "do" the law of liberty? And what is it, anyway, James?????
The "law of liberty" is Jesus Christ.
Jesus is the Word become flesh, right? He's the Word (the Law) of God. And His life brings us salvation from sin AND the Holy Spirit, who gives us freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). When you look into the law of liberty, you're looking not at yourself, but straight into the face of Jesus. And in Jesus, we see who we were created to be. Mirrors don't lie. They always tell the truth. And Jesus IS the truth. He will never misrepresent the Father to you (John 14:6-7), nor will He misrepresent you to the Father (Hebrews 7:25).
It is easy to wake up and read your Bible and remember who you are in Christ; and then the next minute get into your car and grumble at every driver who gets in your way. (Have I done this? Maybe....) It is even easier to worship your heart out Sunday morning, and then when you go out to lunch and see someone who is in need of big prayer, to turn your eyes away. (Um, yeah, definitely done this.)
What James is telling us to "do" here is not to go sign up for twenty-seven more committees, but to just simply remember who we are as God's sons and daughters. He is telling us to simply be who we already are. When we remember who we are in Christ, we start to just do things as He would do things. We start to have faith like Jesus.
And He did things that were pretty incredible.
James wants us to know that when we look to Christ, we see who God is, and we see who we are. And knowing who He is produces in us a kind of faith that can change the world. What we "do" will not just be fundraisers and 5ks, but healings and deliverances and salvations, spreading the love of God to everyone across the earth.
James admonishes us to "count it all joy" when we endure trials because he knew that belief begets belief. The more you press into God's goodness and your identity in Christ during hard times, the more your faith to believe grows. If we have faith in who He is in hard times, how much more faith will we have when it comes time to believe Him for something really huge and miraculous and impossible? The steadfastness produced is a consistent persuasion of God's biblical character and your identity in Christ as His child. He is good; He is holy and perfect; He loves us; we are made righteous by Jesus; we are royalty; we can move mountains.
If we can just take hold of these truths, guys, we will have no problem walking on water.
Because I want this steadfastness of faith, I am determined to press into the knowledge of Him. I want to be full of faith when trials come, and I want to be full of faith when it is time for a gigantic miracle. I want to be the one people call to pray for impossible things.
Don't you?
I'm not saying that I've mastered this by any means. But I will continue to wake up every day and talk with the Holy Spirit and read my Bible so I can get to know Him and have the incredible faith--no matter what--that James had. I can already feel the ocean spray.
Anybody want to take a walk?
That doesn't really sound like the description of someone who can walk on water, does it?
James is kind of straight-up. No dilly-dallying around the point for him. You know--he's the one who begins his letter with "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds...." If the New Testament writers were contestants on a reality show, James would be the no-nonsense personal trainer that doesn't take anyone's drama.
At least, that's the way I've always pictured him, and a lot of people think James is a book meant to terrify people into religion (doing "good works" to get into heaven). But I think these are oversimplifications (and misrepresentations) of James's heart.
I think James wanted us to know that it's time to put our faith out there and believe for the BIG. His book is a book that gives mighty examples of faith by people who knew God--and dares to assert that we, too, can know Him and see our faith at work in the world in big ways. I only read the first chapter this morning, but it kind of blew my socks off. (Not literally, for which I am thankful, because my apartment is very cold this time of year.)
James was writing to believers of the Dispersion, those who lived outside of the Palestine area where Jesus' ministry took place. In case you were wondering, that's you. (Unless I've picked up some readers from first-century Jerusalem.)
James warns his readers: Do not be deceived. That's a pretty important thing for believers to remember. There are so many lies about God's identity and our identity that we can become confused.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures (1:16-18).
This is serious confidence about the goodness of God and the status He gives His sons and daughters, especially for someone who has just finished encouraging his readers to be steadfast in trial. It's one thing to be sure of God's identity in good times, but it's another to be firmly convinced of His goodness during bad times.
That's no-nonsense faith.
People like to turn James into a book of victimization ("Christians are persecuted people who have to suffer in silence"), or a book about "faith versus works" to prove salvation. I could discuss either of these things for hours, and I might do so with you if you ever take me out to coffee. (Be ye warned.) I think, though, that this heavy first chapter (which I also would like to discuss in more detail...want to go get coffee?) sets up the theme for the book.
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing (1:22-25).
I think a lot of people read that and immediately rush out to "do" a bunch of things, such as running church committees and fundraising for orphans and donating all their money to charity and running a 5k for cancer. I don't think there is anything wrong with these things (particularly if I start a charity and am in need of your funding). But I also don't think this is what James is talking about.
You probably look at yourself in the mirror every morning. Some people need more mirror time than others, and some need to look repeatedly throughout the day...you know, those of us who have a propensity to dropping ketchup on our shirts. But when you turn away from the mirror, you probably instantly stop thinking about what you look like. After all, if you're not looking in a mirror, you can't really see yourself.
Obviously, James is not talking about a real mirror. He compares a mirror to the perfect law, the law of liberty. He says that if we will look at that, and remember it, and do it, we will be blessed.
What does that mean? How do we "do" the law of liberty? And what is it, anyway, James?????
The "law of liberty" is Jesus Christ.
Jesus is the Word become flesh, right? He's the Word (the Law) of God. And His life brings us salvation from sin AND the Holy Spirit, who gives us freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). When you look into the law of liberty, you're looking not at yourself, but straight into the face of Jesus. And in Jesus, we see who we were created to be. Mirrors don't lie. They always tell the truth. And Jesus IS the truth. He will never misrepresent the Father to you (John 14:6-7), nor will He misrepresent you to the Father (Hebrews 7:25).
It is easy to wake up and read your Bible and remember who you are in Christ; and then the next minute get into your car and grumble at every driver who gets in your way. (Have I done this? Maybe....) It is even easier to worship your heart out Sunday morning, and then when you go out to lunch and see someone who is in need of big prayer, to turn your eyes away. (Um, yeah, definitely done this.)
What James is telling us to "do" here is not to go sign up for twenty-seven more committees, but to just simply remember who we are as God's sons and daughters. He is telling us to simply be who we already are. When we remember who we are in Christ, we start to just do things as He would do things. We start to have faith like Jesus.
And He did things that were pretty incredible.
James wants us to know that when we look to Christ, we see who God is, and we see who we are. And knowing who He is produces in us a kind of faith that can change the world. What we "do" will not just be fundraisers and 5ks, but healings and deliverances and salvations, spreading the love of God to everyone across the earth.
James admonishes us to "count it all joy" when we endure trials because he knew that belief begets belief. The more you press into God's goodness and your identity in Christ during hard times, the more your faith to believe grows. If we have faith in who He is in hard times, how much more faith will we have when it comes time to believe Him for something really huge and miraculous and impossible? The steadfastness produced is a consistent persuasion of God's biblical character and your identity in Christ as His child. He is good; He is holy and perfect; He loves us; we are made righteous by Jesus; we are royalty; we can move mountains.
If we can just take hold of these truths, guys, we will have no problem walking on water.
Because I want this steadfastness of faith, I am determined to press into the knowledge of Him. I want to be full of faith when trials come, and I want to be full of faith when it is time for a gigantic miracle. I want to be the one people call to pray for impossible things.
Don't you?
I'm not saying that I've mastered this by any means. But I will continue to wake up every day and talk with the Holy Spirit and read my Bible so I can get to know Him and have the incredible faith--no matter what--that James had. I can already feel the ocean spray.
Anybody want to take a walk?
Friday, January 2, 2015
Zephaniah: An Unlikely Book (Part 2)
In my last post, I wrote about the paralells between the judgments in Zephaniah and the story of Christ. I want to revisit Zephaniah again today as we begin a new year.
Before you start groaning about how long my last post was, let out a sigh of relief: this one will be shorter. If you want to read something even shorter, go read Zephaniah itself. It only contains three chapters, but they are all so packed with the character of God.
The first two chapters of this Old Testament book are fantastic, but the really good stuff is in chapter 3. This is where the redemption happens.
We pick up in 3:9, where the prophet continues to describe the day of wrath, the day when Jesus died. The Lord says that, on that day, "all the earth shall be consumed" by "the fire of my jealousy" (v. 8). In other words, Zephaniah is prophesying a day when the earth will be revolutionized by a love that consumes all and destroys everything in its path to the beloved... God's love, which is stronger than death (Song of Solomon 8:6).
For at that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech,
that all of them may call upon the name of the Lord
and serve him with one accord.
From beyond the rivers of Cush
my worshipers, the daughter of my dispersed ones,
shall bring my offering.
On that day you shall not be put to shame,
because of the deeds by which you have rebelled against me (v. 9-11).
God's heart is not after just worship, but rather the hearts of His worshipers.
He continues:
But I will leave in your midst a people humble and lowly.
They shall seek refuge in the name of the Lord,
those who are left in Israel;
they shall do no injustice and speak no lies,
nor shall there be found in their mouth a deceitful tongue.
For they shall graze and lie down,
and none shall make them afraid. (v. 12-13).
That's us, guys. I think this passage is not a list of "to-dos" for Christians. It's a description of who we naturally are in Christ. When we are walking in His Spirit, we naturally speak blessing and encouragement, we are naturally full of humility, and we are never afraid.
If you are afraid and speaking those fears at the beginning of this new year, don't feel condemned. You just have to remember that that's not who you are. I know that, as adults, we have things in our lives that cause everything from concern to terror to absolute panic. Life is full of scary things when you can only see what is in front of you. So I know that it isn't an easy thing to hear "just trust God" when it looks like Goliath is standing in front of you, ready to deliver the death blow.
But....there's Jesus. You're a sheep who belongs to the Good Shepherd, and because He cares for you and protects you, you don't have to be afraid (Psalm 23). That includes everything. Nothing has the right to make you afraid. Literally: nothing. He is bigger than the thoughts that cause your heart to stop, or the worries that keep you up at night.
And Zephaniah goes on into one of the most victorious passages of scripture.
Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!
The Lord has taken away the judgments against you;
he has cleared away your enemies.
The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall never again fear evil (v. 14-15).
When will you fear evil again?...Never. "Never" is a pretty serious word. Kind of like "forever"--the time we now get to spend with the Father because Jesus made a way for us to enter the throne room.
We are instructed to rejoice and exult with ALL of our hearts--not just the parts that don't belong to fear and sin. Why? Because the King of Israel is in our midst, and he has taken away the judgments against us. Jesus came to earth to be with us. In His death, He cleansed us from all sin. In taking away sin, He not only made us righteous sons and daughters of the Most High God, He cleansed us from all fear of sin (including fear of our own failures).
If you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, if you're a Christian, you don't have to sit here reading this and wish you were cleansed and free. You ARE cleansed and free! He is with you! He has removed the judgments from you and made you so clean that He is pleased to walk alongside you in close communion.
Relax. Your God is with you.
What's more:
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
"Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
I will gather those of you who mourn for the festival,
so that you will no longer suffer reproach.
Behold, at that time I will deal with all your oppressors.
And I will save the lame and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
and reknown in all the earth (v. 16-17)
I don't know about you, but that sounds like a party I want to be at. Good thing we're already there.
Zephaniah is speaking of today--right now, the time after Christ has been risen from the dead. We are the blessed people who were born into the era of Jesus' kingdom. This is not some far-off day. Yes, He's coming back...but let's not forget that He is already risen.
AND, right this very moment, He is exulting over you with LOUD singing! This isn't some dull humming...this is full-lung-power shouting, in the most beautiful voice ever heard.
When I feel that there is a reason for me to feel shame or reproach, when I forget who I am, I like to get myself back on track by imagining Jesus rejoicing over me in a freestyle dance party. This is especially uplifting if you are listening to techno worhsip music.
I don't care what tries to scare you this year. Tell it to leave you alone, because your King is throwing a party in your honor.
The last verse of Zephaniah speaks of expectancy:
"At that time I will bring you in,
at the time when I gather you together;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes," says the Lord (v. 20).
I want to live the kind of life that makes the name of Jesus renowned in all the earth. I want to see miracles, breakthrough, and redemption daily--for myself and others. And my prayer for you this year is the same. I pray that we will be a people who are not resigned to fear and complacency, but that we will press in and press through the door to the festival, where we are already invited and the party is already happening, because the greatest victory has already occurred.
I want to encourage you to be expectant for 2015. He can change your fortunes before your eyes. If you have always wished you could "be more spiritual" or "experience more of Him," go for it. Ask Him how to draw nearer. He is in your midst, and He wants to get even closer.
My friend prayed for us today that we will "always choose hope." I pray that that's the theme for all Christians in the new year. Buckle your seatbelt, pop in the Jesus Culture remix, slam the gas pedal, and don't look back!
Happy New Year!
Before you start groaning about how long my last post was, let out a sigh of relief: this one will be shorter. If you want to read something even shorter, go read Zephaniah itself. It only contains three chapters, but they are all so packed with the character of God.
The first two chapters of this Old Testament book are fantastic, but the really good stuff is in chapter 3. This is where the redemption happens.
We pick up in 3:9, where the prophet continues to describe the day of wrath, the day when Jesus died. The Lord says that, on that day, "all the earth shall be consumed" by "the fire of my jealousy" (v. 8). In other words, Zephaniah is prophesying a day when the earth will be revolutionized by a love that consumes all and destroys everything in its path to the beloved... God's love, which is stronger than death (Song of Solomon 8:6).
For at that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech,
that all of them may call upon the name of the Lord
and serve him with one accord.
From beyond the rivers of Cush
my worshipers, the daughter of my dispersed ones,
shall bring my offering.
On that day you shall not be put to shame,
because of the deeds by which you have rebelled against me (v. 9-11).
God's heart is not after just worship, but rather the hearts of His worshipers.
He continues:
But I will leave in your midst a people humble and lowly.
They shall seek refuge in the name of the Lord,
those who are left in Israel;
they shall do no injustice and speak no lies,
nor shall there be found in their mouth a deceitful tongue.
For they shall graze and lie down,
and none shall make them afraid. (v. 12-13).
That's us, guys. I think this passage is not a list of "to-dos" for Christians. It's a description of who we naturally are in Christ. When we are walking in His Spirit, we naturally speak blessing and encouragement, we are naturally full of humility, and we are never afraid.
If you are afraid and speaking those fears at the beginning of this new year, don't feel condemned. You just have to remember that that's not who you are. I know that, as adults, we have things in our lives that cause everything from concern to terror to absolute panic. Life is full of scary things when you can only see what is in front of you. So I know that it isn't an easy thing to hear "just trust God" when it looks like Goliath is standing in front of you, ready to deliver the death blow.
But....there's Jesus. You're a sheep who belongs to the Good Shepherd, and because He cares for you and protects you, you don't have to be afraid (Psalm 23). That includes everything. Nothing has the right to make you afraid. Literally: nothing. He is bigger than the thoughts that cause your heart to stop, or the worries that keep you up at night.
And Zephaniah goes on into one of the most victorious passages of scripture.
Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!
The Lord has taken away the judgments against you;
he has cleared away your enemies.
The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall never again fear evil (v. 14-15).
When will you fear evil again?...Never. "Never" is a pretty serious word. Kind of like "forever"--the time we now get to spend with the Father because Jesus made a way for us to enter the throne room.
We are instructed to rejoice and exult with ALL of our hearts--not just the parts that don't belong to fear and sin. Why? Because the King of Israel is in our midst, and he has taken away the judgments against us. Jesus came to earth to be with us. In His death, He cleansed us from all sin. In taking away sin, He not only made us righteous sons and daughters of the Most High God, He cleansed us from all fear of sin (including fear of our own failures).
If you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, if you're a Christian, you don't have to sit here reading this and wish you were cleansed and free. You ARE cleansed and free! He is with you! He has removed the judgments from you and made you so clean that He is pleased to walk alongside you in close communion.
Relax. Your God is with you.
What's more:
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
"Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
I will gather those of you who mourn for the festival,
so that you will no longer suffer reproach.
Behold, at that time I will deal with all your oppressors.
And I will save the lame and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
and reknown in all the earth (v. 16-17)
I don't know about you, but that sounds like a party I want to be at. Good thing we're already there.
Zephaniah is speaking of today--right now, the time after Christ has been risen from the dead. We are the blessed people who were born into the era of Jesus' kingdom. This is not some far-off day. Yes, He's coming back...but let's not forget that He is already risen.
AND, right this very moment, He is exulting over you with LOUD singing! This isn't some dull humming...this is full-lung-power shouting, in the most beautiful voice ever heard.
When I feel that there is a reason for me to feel shame or reproach, when I forget who I am, I like to get myself back on track by imagining Jesus rejoicing over me in a freestyle dance party. This is especially uplifting if you are listening to techno worhsip music.
I don't care what tries to scare you this year. Tell it to leave you alone, because your King is throwing a party in your honor.
The last verse of Zephaniah speaks of expectancy:
"At that time I will bring you in,
at the time when I gather you together;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes," says the Lord (v. 20).
I want to live the kind of life that makes the name of Jesus renowned in all the earth. I want to see miracles, breakthrough, and redemption daily--for myself and others. And my prayer for you this year is the same. I pray that we will be a people who are not resigned to fear and complacency, but that we will press in and press through the door to the festival, where we are already invited and the party is already happening, because the greatest victory has already occurred.
I want to encourage you to be expectant for 2015. He can change your fortunes before your eyes. If you have always wished you could "be more spiritual" or "experience more of Him," go for it. Ask Him how to draw nearer. He is in your midst, and He wants to get even closer.
My friend prayed for us today that we will "always choose hope." I pray that that's the theme for all Christians in the new year. Buckle your seatbelt, pop in the Jesus Culture remix, slam the gas pedal, and don't look back!
Happy New Year!
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Zephaniah: An Unlikely Book (Part 1)
Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people (Hebrews 2:14-17).
Nobody really thinks about Zephaniah. Sandwiched between Habakkuk and Haggai (two other Old Testament prophets with hard-to-pronounce names) Zephaniah seems like just another writer of gloom and doom, an old guy with a long white beard shaking his cane at people and hollering about the wrath of God. Like most writers of the Bible who make people uncomfortable, he probably doesn't get read very much.
But I think that, especially on Christmas, we should read a little closer. In this unlikely book, we find a story not of curse but of redemption.
Zephaniah only has three chapters, but even so, I could write on and on about each of them forever, so I'd best limit myself to a particular section, at least for this post. You can read the rest for yourself. (And maybe someday I will write a book. Finding Jesus in the OT just tickles me!) For the purposes of this post, we'll break down Zephaniah 1:7-18, which in my Bible is titled "The Day of the Lord is Near."
Be silent before the Lord God!
For the day of the Lord is near;
the Lord has prepared a sacrifice
and consecrated his guests.
And on the day of the Lord's sacrifice--
"I will punish the officials and the king's sons
and all who array themselves in foreign attire" (v. 7-8).
This reminds me of the parable of the wedding feast in Matthew 22:14. The king (representing God) invites all his friends (religious people) to a wedding feast for his son (Jesus, who marries the church), but they refuse to come, mistreating and even killing the servants (prophets like Zephaniah) who have come to invite them. So the king destroys their city (their reputation for religious ritual), and instead, he invites anyone and everyone in the streets, including the homeless poor. He discovers one man who has gotten into the wedding feast without a garment. That guy gets thrown out. Basically, the story is a warning to those who consider themselves "religious," but who don't know Jesus and are not covered in the robe of righteousness that He bought for us on the cross.
These subtle few lines in Zephaniah set up the context for the following verses. I believe they indicate that the rest of the chapter is about the "sacrifice"--Jesus--whom God has prepared, which "consecrates His guests."
I don't often retype long passages of scripture (again, you're perfectly capable of reading it yourself), but I think it's important to go through verses 10-18 word-for-word so we can get a clear picture of "the day of the Lord." I'll insert scripture references rather than deconstructing each and every line in graduate school thesis fashion, just to spare you the pain of reliving your college English class. Those of you nerds like me (you know who you are) can go ballistic on it yourselves.
"On that day," declares the Lord,
"a cry will be heard from the Fish Gate,
a wail from the Second Quarter,
a loud crash from the hills [Matthew 27:51].
Wail, O inhabitants of the Mortar!
For all the traders are no more,
all who weigh out silver are cut off [John 2:16].
At that time I will search Jerusalem with lamps [Isaiah 9:2],
and I will punish the men who are complacent,
those who say in their hearts,
'The Lord will not do good, nor will he do ill.' [Revelation 3:15-16]
Their goods shall be plundered,
and their houses laid waste [Matthew 12:29].
Though they build houses,
they shall not inhabit them;
though they plant vineyards,
they shall not drink wine from them [Proverbs 10:30, Isaiah 65:22].
The great day of the Lord is near,
near and hastening fast;
the sound of the day of the Lord is bitter;
the mighty man cries aloud there [Mark 15:34 & 37].
A day of wrath is that day,
a day of distress and anguish,
a day of ruin and devastation [Mark 15:38],
a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and thick darkness [Mark 15:33],
a day of trumpet blast and battle cry
against the fortified cities
and against the lofty battlements.
I will bring distress on mankind,
so that they shall walk like the blind [Matthew 23:24, John 9:39],
because they have sinned against the Lord;
their blood shall be poured out like dust [Matthew 26:28],
and their flesh like dung.
Neither their silver nor their gold
shall be able to deliver them
on the day of the wrath of the Lord [Matthew 27:3].
In the fire of his jealousy,
all the earth shall be consumed [Song of Soloman 8:6];
for a full and sudden end
he will make of the inhabitants of the earth [2 Corinthians 5:17].
As one of my favorite preachers, Joseph Prince, likes to say, "There are no insignificant details in the Bible." (And if you're really a nerd who loves scripture cross-references, you can check out his sermons.) I'm no Biblical scholar, and I am sure Zephaniah is layered with meaning and probably refers to multiple events. But if you check all my nerd references, you will see what I think about this passage: that it refers not to a complete destruction of sinners, but complete destruction of sin and deceit on the day of the crucifixion. It is not about doom and gloom and hopelessness, as the Jews would have read it. It is about Jesus' victory over death, His destruction of false pharisaical religious tradition, and His restoration of right relationship with us. In other words, I don't think this passage is about how horrible we've been, but about how good Jesus is.
The Jews who read this would have expected relentless devastation, the angry wrath of God. To them, it would have sounded like just another warning against sin. And indeed, God doesn't lie: He intended to punish the people. It's just that He poured out their punishment on one man, His Son, Jesus Christ. I think the "fortified cities" and "lofty battlements" that are destroyed in this passage are the strongholds of the devil. I believe "the cry of the mighty man" is Jesus' cry on the cross, and the "loud crash" is the sound of the curtain being torn in two. I think the "blood poured out" was Jesus' blood, for the sake of all the people. I think He did cause blindness to fall on the Pharisees, who refused to acknowledge that He was God. And I think His jealousy does consume us completely, into the restoring fire of His love displayed through Jesus Christ on the cross. I believe He destroys mankind--that is, the sin inside of us, so that we can be reborn as sons and daughters of the King.
In the Word of the Lord from Zephaniah, the Jews probably expected utter destruction and hopelessness. But through the lens of Jesus, we see that God is a merciful and a just God. Though His people expected judgment from Him, what they got was a Savior. The Messiah was not a militant warrior who came to overturn the Roman empire and restore Israel's autonomy, as the Jews believed; God had bigger plans than that. The Messiah came to be born of a human mother into an imperfect stable, and He grew up to save the entire world from the clutches of sin and death. Zephaniah seems an unlikely book in which to read the story of Jesus; but then again, Jesus, by the world's perspective, seems an unlikely man to become our savior.
Sometimes, even in the New Testament days, we believers still expect judgment from God when we should be turning our eyes to the Savior.
I want to challenge you, on Christmas day, to rethink your expectations of God.
To all of you who feel that God is distant, angry, and wrathful: remember on this day that He came down Himself to a world full of sin, hopelessness, and brokenheartedness, just so He could bridge the distance between Himself and us. He left His throne (Philippians 2:4-11) in order to become Emmanuel, "God with us." His love is earth-shattering and sin-shattering.
Don't surrender to hopelessness today. The Redeemer lives, and His plan for your life is so much more wonderful than you expect.
And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:14).
A very joyous Christmas to you.
Nobody really thinks about Zephaniah. Sandwiched between Habakkuk and Haggai (two other Old Testament prophets with hard-to-pronounce names) Zephaniah seems like just another writer of gloom and doom, an old guy with a long white beard shaking his cane at people and hollering about the wrath of God. Like most writers of the Bible who make people uncomfortable, he probably doesn't get read very much.
But I think that, especially on Christmas, we should read a little closer. In this unlikely book, we find a story not of curse but of redemption.
Zephaniah only has three chapters, but even so, I could write on and on about each of them forever, so I'd best limit myself to a particular section, at least for this post. You can read the rest for yourself. (And maybe someday I will write a book. Finding Jesus in the OT just tickles me!) For the purposes of this post, we'll break down Zephaniah 1:7-18, which in my Bible is titled "The Day of the Lord is Near."
Be silent before the Lord God!
For the day of the Lord is near;
the Lord has prepared a sacrifice
and consecrated his guests.
And on the day of the Lord's sacrifice--
"I will punish the officials and the king's sons
and all who array themselves in foreign attire" (v. 7-8).
This reminds me of the parable of the wedding feast in Matthew 22:14. The king (representing God) invites all his friends (religious people) to a wedding feast for his son (Jesus, who marries the church), but they refuse to come, mistreating and even killing the servants (prophets like Zephaniah) who have come to invite them. So the king destroys their city (their reputation for religious ritual), and instead, he invites anyone and everyone in the streets, including the homeless poor. He discovers one man who has gotten into the wedding feast without a garment. That guy gets thrown out. Basically, the story is a warning to those who consider themselves "religious," but who don't know Jesus and are not covered in the robe of righteousness that He bought for us on the cross.
These subtle few lines in Zephaniah set up the context for the following verses. I believe they indicate that the rest of the chapter is about the "sacrifice"--Jesus--whom God has prepared, which "consecrates His guests."
I don't often retype long passages of scripture (again, you're perfectly capable of reading it yourself), but I think it's important to go through verses 10-18 word-for-word so we can get a clear picture of "the day of the Lord." I'll insert scripture references rather than deconstructing each and every line in graduate school thesis fashion, just to spare you the pain of reliving your college English class. Those of you nerds like me (you know who you are) can go ballistic on it yourselves.
"On that day," declares the Lord,
"a cry will be heard from the Fish Gate,
a wail from the Second Quarter,
a loud crash from the hills [Matthew 27:51].
Wail, O inhabitants of the Mortar!
For all the traders are no more,
all who weigh out silver are cut off [John 2:16].
At that time I will search Jerusalem with lamps [Isaiah 9:2],
and I will punish the men who are complacent,
those who say in their hearts,
'The Lord will not do good, nor will he do ill.' [Revelation 3:15-16]
Their goods shall be plundered,
and their houses laid waste [Matthew 12:29].
Though they build houses,
they shall not inhabit them;
though they plant vineyards,
they shall not drink wine from them [Proverbs 10:30, Isaiah 65:22].
The great day of the Lord is near,
near and hastening fast;
the sound of the day of the Lord is bitter;
the mighty man cries aloud there [Mark 15:34 & 37].
A day of wrath is that day,
a day of distress and anguish,
a day of ruin and devastation [Mark 15:38],
a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and thick darkness [Mark 15:33],
a day of trumpet blast and battle cry
against the fortified cities
and against the lofty battlements.
I will bring distress on mankind,
so that they shall walk like the blind [Matthew 23:24, John 9:39],
because they have sinned against the Lord;
their blood shall be poured out like dust [Matthew 26:28],
and their flesh like dung.
Neither their silver nor their gold
shall be able to deliver them
on the day of the wrath of the Lord [Matthew 27:3].
In the fire of his jealousy,
all the earth shall be consumed [Song of Soloman 8:6];
for a full and sudden end
he will make of the inhabitants of the earth [2 Corinthians 5:17].
As one of my favorite preachers, Joseph Prince, likes to say, "There are no insignificant details in the Bible." (And if you're really a nerd who loves scripture cross-references, you can check out his sermons.) I'm no Biblical scholar, and I am sure Zephaniah is layered with meaning and probably refers to multiple events. But if you check all my nerd references, you will see what I think about this passage: that it refers not to a complete destruction of sinners, but complete destruction of sin and deceit on the day of the crucifixion. It is not about doom and gloom and hopelessness, as the Jews would have read it. It is about Jesus' victory over death, His destruction of false pharisaical religious tradition, and His restoration of right relationship with us. In other words, I don't think this passage is about how horrible we've been, but about how good Jesus is.
The Jews who read this would have expected relentless devastation, the angry wrath of God. To them, it would have sounded like just another warning against sin. And indeed, God doesn't lie: He intended to punish the people. It's just that He poured out their punishment on one man, His Son, Jesus Christ. I think the "fortified cities" and "lofty battlements" that are destroyed in this passage are the strongholds of the devil. I believe "the cry of the mighty man" is Jesus' cry on the cross, and the "loud crash" is the sound of the curtain being torn in two. I think the "blood poured out" was Jesus' blood, for the sake of all the people. I think He did cause blindness to fall on the Pharisees, who refused to acknowledge that He was God. And I think His jealousy does consume us completely, into the restoring fire of His love displayed through Jesus Christ on the cross. I believe He destroys mankind--that is, the sin inside of us, so that we can be reborn as sons and daughters of the King.
In the Word of the Lord from Zephaniah, the Jews probably expected utter destruction and hopelessness. But through the lens of Jesus, we see that God is a merciful and a just God. Though His people expected judgment from Him, what they got was a Savior. The Messiah was not a militant warrior who came to overturn the Roman empire and restore Israel's autonomy, as the Jews believed; God had bigger plans than that. The Messiah came to be born of a human mother into an imperfect stable, and He grew up to save the entire world from the clutches of sin and death. Zephaniah seems an unlikely book in which to read the story of Jesus; but then again, Jesus, by the world's perspective, seems an unlikely man to become our savior.
Sometimes, even in the New Testament days, we believers still expect judgment from God when we should be turning our eyes to the Savior.
I want to challenge you, on Christmas day, to rethink your expectations of God.
To all of you who feel that God is distant, angry, and wrathful: remember on this day that He came down Himself to a world full of sin, hopelessness, and brokenheartedness, just so He could bridge the distance between Himself and us. He left His throne (Philippians 2:4-11) in order to become Emmanuel, "God with us." His love is earth-shattering and sin-shattering.
Don't surrender to hopelessness today. The Redeemer lives, and His plan for your life is so much more wonderful than you expect.
And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:14).
A very joyous Christmas to you.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
A Field Full of Blessings
And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, 'Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.' (Luke 2:33-35)
This is a season when we remember a teenage mother, Mary, who submitted to God's great plan for her life. Because she said "yes" to God, the greatest miracle the world has ever seen came to have breath and walked on the earth. She actually gave birth to the whole world's (and her own) salvation.
And it was all because she believed what the angel had said.
I was reading 1 Samuel yesterday morning and was reminded of another mother who believed God's word would come to pass. Go back more than a thousand years before the angel visited Mary, and you'll find Hannah, who became the mother of Samuel.
Samuel was a mover and a shaker. He was the great priest of Israel who brought righteousness back to the house of the Lord and called Saul to be king. Although the book is called "1 Samuel" (yes, he was illustrious enough to have two books named for him), I think it is, at its heart, a story about his mother and her belief in the goodness of God.
You can read chapters one and two for yourself, but I will provide a brief synopsis here. Hannah was one of Elkanah's two wives. The other wife had children, but Hannah had none. Her barrenness caused her great distress (especially because her rival wife constantly provoked her). Hannah was so depressed that she refused to eat. So, eventually, she entered the temple and cried out to God for a son, promising that, if He would give her a child, she would dedicate him to the Lord from his birth. She prayed so fervently before Him that the priest, Eli, thought she was drunk and told her to go home. Her reply was basically, "Excuse me, I'm really upset, sir. Don't be trying to blame it on alcohol. I have real problems." Eli (probably taken aback) replied, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him." After that, Hannah had a son, whom she named Samuel.
I think a lot of people read this and think, "Oh, this means I should bargain with God, just like Hannah did." But I don't think that's the message of this story at all. I think this story is about intimacy with God, faith to believe that He means what He says, and initiative to go after the blessings He promises.
When Hannah came before the Lord in prayer, she didn't approach Him in pride with lofty words and hidden agendas. She did, however, approach Him with the confidence of a daughter. She knew He knew her longings already, so she let Him into her heart. The Bible says that she "was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly" (1:10), and that she "was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard" (1:13). She was completely vulnerable before the Lord. She trusted Him with her heart and poured it out before Him (Psalm 62:8).
Although Hannah was in great distress, she had not given up. She never would have approached the temple if she didn't believe God would act on her behalf. She must have truly believed the blessings in Deuteronomy, which had been given to her forefathers and which promised to make Israel prosperous in the "fruit of the womb" (Deuteronomy 28:11). She knew the God would not give her a desire for children if He weren't going to follow through on His own word.
Hannah was a woman of initiative. Faith in God's character isn't just a concept. It's an action. Hannah made a vow, and then she followed through on that vow. She returned to the temple herself, independently of her husband, and bringing sacrifices, to offer her son to the priest to be brought up as a man of God. The Lord didn't ask her to give her son to Him; she offered him willingly. She staked everything--her very heart's desire--on the promise that God is good. She acted on her faith, and the Lord saw that she meant what she said.
In giving her son to the service of the Lord, Hannah followed the way of Abraham and paved the way for Mary: she gave her most precious blessing back to God. Because of that, she was able to partake in a plan of cosmic proportions that were beyond her imagination. She perhaps believed her son would be an average priest. Instead, he turned out to be a leader who left a legacy of righteousness that lasts into our own generation.
This is a great story, and we can all nod our heads in agreement with the concept that God is good and can be trusted. But do we approach Him with the same confidence in His blessings that Hannah had?
I think all of us have looked upon the blessings of Deuteronomy 28--for prosperity, favor, victory, and abundance--in the same way adults look at a field of flowers. Sometimes we pick them, but then we scrutinize every petal and toss them aside in ingratitude, because they "don't look exactly like what we wanted." Other times, we don't even bother to pick them at all, because they are "too pretty for us" and "they must be meant for someone more special to God than me."
All of those are lies. Jesus said that we should become like little children, and that is how we inherit the kingdom of God (ie, the blessings, favor, and roles in His magnificent plan). Children don't think about why they should or shouldn't pick a flower, nor do they criticize what is in their hands. They don't assume that the beauty is not for them. They don't think twice about showing their emotions. They just go out joyfully and take what God has made just for them and express gratitude about it.
Hannah walked into the temple and asked for God's blessing. How much more do we, under the perfect priesthood of Christ, have a right to "approach the throne of grace with confidence" (Hebrews 4:16) and ask for His blessings?
Life is complicated, but our relationship with God is not. Like Hannah, we should simply trust that He cannot lie, and that, not only will He follow through on His promise, but He wants to, because He is a good and righteous Father. AND He has a plan to bless us with a destiny beyond what we can imagine.
After Samuel was born, the Lord came to Eli and said, "I will raise up for myself a faithful priest, who shall do according to what is in my heart and in my mind. And I will build him a sure house, and he shall go in and out before my anointed forever" (1 Samuel 2:35). This is a description of Samuel, but doesn't it also specifically describe the role of Jesus? (Check out Hebrews 4-8.) Hannah's son had a tremendous role to play in the appointments of the kings of Israel, who became symbols of God's authority on earth and were ancestors in the genealogy of Christ Himself. Following God's appointed purposes, Samuel helped pave the way for Jesus' birth more than 1,000 years later.
Deuteronomy 28 lists an abundance of blessings for an obedient Israel; and because Hannah believed Deuteronomy 28, all people (not just Israelites) have a chance to believe in the full obedience of Christ and thereby secure the blessings found in that book. Her life was bigger than she knew. But she did know one thing: that God was good, and that He would follow through on His promises. And she bulldozed everything that got in the way of her grabbing those promises for herself--including her own doubt.
What blessing are you believing for today? Is there a lack that is causing you distress? Is there a desire for something good that is unfulfilled in your heart? Talk to your Father about it.
During this Christmas season, we should flip back through Deuteronomy 28 and remember the blessed life God has promised us. We should read through Isaiah and remind ourselves of God's promise for a Savior, "a great joy that will be for all the people" (Luke 2:10). God sent Jesus so that you and I could know Him and live into the destiny He has designed for us. Don't count yourself out or toss your blessings aside. He has the inheritance of heaven waiting on you, if only you walk into the temple and ask.
Merry Christmas!
This is a season when we remember a teenage mother, Mary, who submitted to God's great plan for her life. Because she said "yes" to God, the greatest miracle the world has ever seen came to have breath and walked on the earth. She actually gave birth to the whole world's (and her own) salvation.
And it was all because she believed what the angel had said.
I was reading 1 Samuel yesterday morning and was reminded of another mother who believed God's word would come to pass. Go back more than a thousand years before the angel visited Mary, and you'll find Hannah, who became the mother of Samuel.
Samuel was a mover and a shaker. He was the great priest of Israel who brought righteousness back to the house of the Lord and called Saul to be king. Although the book is called "1 Samuel" (yes, he was illustrious enough to have two books named for him), I think it is, at its heart, a story about his mother and her belief in the goodness of God.
You can read chapters one and two for yourself, but I will provide a brief synopsis here. Hannah was one of Elkanah's two wives. The other wife had children, but Hannah had none. Her barrenness caused her great distress (especially because her rival wife constantly provoked her). Hannah was so depressed that she refused to eat. So, eventually, she entered the temple and cried out to God for a son, promising that, if He would give her a child, she would dedicate him to the Lord from his birth. She prayed so fervently before Him that the priest, Eli, thought she was drunk and told her to go home. Her reply was basically, "Excuse me, I'm really upset, sir. Don't be trying to blame it on alcohol. I have real problems." Eli (probably taken aback) replied, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him." After that, Hannah had a son, whom she named Samuel.
I think a lot of people read this and think, "Oh, this means I should bargain with God, just like Hannah did." But I don't think that's the message of this story at all. I think this story is about intimacy with God, faith to believe that He means what He says, and initiative to go after the blessings He promises.
When Hannah came before the Lord in prayer, she didn't approach Him in pride with lofty words and hidden agendas. She did, however, approach Him with the confidence of a daughter. She knew He knew her longings already, so she let Him into her heart. The Bible says that she "was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly" (1:10), and that she "was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard" (1:13). She was completely vulnerable before the Lord. She trusted Him with her heart and poured it out before Him (Psalm 62:8).
Although Hannah was in great distress, she had not given up. She never would have approached the temple if she didn't believe God would act on her behalf. She must have truly believed the blessings in Deuteronomy, which had been given to her forefathers and which promised to make Israel prosperous in the "fruit of the womb" (Deuteronomy 28:11). She knew the God would not give her a desire for children if He weren't going to follow through on His own word.
Hannah was a woman of initiative. Faith in God's character isn't just a concept. It's an action. Hannah made a vow, and then she followed through on that vow. She returned to the temple herself, independently of her husband, and bringing sacrifices, to offer her son to the priest to be brought up as a man of God. The Lord didn't ask her to give her son to Him; she offered him willingly. She staked everything--her very heart's desire--on the promise that God is good. She acted on her faith, and the Lord saw that she meant what she said.
In giving her son to the service of the Lord, Hannah followed the way of Abraham and paved the way for Mary: she gave her most precious blessing back to God. Because of that, she was able to partake in a plan of cosmic proportions that were beyond her imagination. She perhaps believed her son would be an average priest. Instead, he turned out to be a leader who left a legacy of righteousness that lasts into our own generation.
This is a great story, and we can all nod our heads in agreement with the concept that God is good and can be trusted. But do we approach Him with the same confidence in His blessings that Hannah had?
I think all of us have looked upon the blessings of Deuteronomy 28--for prosperity, favor, victory, and abundance--in the same way adults look at a field of flowers. Sometimes we pick them, but then we scrutinize every petal and toss them aside in ingratitude, because they "don't look exactly like what we wanted." Other times, we don't even bother to pick them at all, because they are "too pretty for us" and "they must be meant for someone more special to God than me."
All of those are lies. Jesus said that we should become like little children, and that is how we inherit the kingdom of God (ie, the blessings, favor, and roles in His magnificent plan). Children don't think about why they should or shouldn't pick a flower, nor do they criticize what is in their hands. They don't assume that the beauty is not for them. They don't think twice about showing their emotions. They just go out joyfully and take what God has made just for them and express gratitude about it.
Hannah walked into the temple and asked for God's blessing. How much more do we, under the perfect priesthood of Christ, have a right to "approach the throne of grace with confidence" (Hebrews 4:16) and ask for His blessings?
Life is complicated, but our relationship with God is not. Like Hannah, we should simply trust that He cannot lie, and that, not only will He follow through on His promise, but He wants to, because He is a good and righteous Father. AND He has a plan to bless us with a destiny beyond what we can imagine.
After Samuel was born, the Lord came to Eli and said, "I will raise up for myself a faithful priest, who shall do according to what is in my heart and in my mind. And I will build him a sure house, and he shall go in and out before my anointed forever" (1 Samuel 2:35). This is a description of Samuel, but doesn't it also specifically describe the role of Jesus? (Check out Hebrews 4-8.) Hannah's son had a tremendous role to play in the appointments of the kings of Israel, who became symbols of God's authority on earth and were ancestors in the genealogy of Christ Himself. Following God's appointed purposes, Samuel helped pave the way for Jesus' birth more than 1,000 years later.
Deuteronomy 28 lists an abundance of blessings for an obedient Israel; and because Hannah believed Deuteronomy 28, all people (not just Israelites) have a chance to believe in the full obedience of Christ and thereby secure the blessings found in that book. Her life was bigger than she knew. But she did know one thing: that God was good, and that He would follow through on His promises. And she bulldozed everything that got in the way of her grabbing those promises for herself--including her own doubt.
What blessing are you believing for today? Is there a lack that is causing you distress? Is there a desire for something good that is unfulfilled in your heart? Talk to your Father about it.
During this Christmas season, we should flip back through Deuteronomy 28 and remember the blessed life God has promised us. We should read through Isaiah and remind ourselves of God's promise for a Savior, "a great joy that will be for all the people" (Luke 2:10). God sent Jesus so that you and I could know Him and live into the destiny He has designed for us. Don't count yourself out or toss your blessings aside. He has the inheritance of heaven waiting on you, if only you walk into the temple and ask.
Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Intimacy
In my last post, I wrote about how purely good the Father is. If He is purely good, then His love for us is pure as well. The most miraculous thing about this is that our identities are not based on anything other than His goodness.
We are defined in light of His goodness and love, not our...well, our anything. It may sound strange, but if someone asks us who we are, our reply ought to be, "The Father is good."
Our meaning of the word "good" has been reduced to a bland generalization, thanks to phrases like, "Now, be a good girl," and "This pie is so good!"
But we ought to look to the Father for our definition of goodness. He doesn't lie (Numbers 23:19). He is just (Luke 18:7, 1 Thessalonians 1:6). His word is always true (Psalm 33:4, John 17:17). He is good.
Man fell in the Garden because he failed to believe this simple truth. Adam and Eve distrusted what God had told them. As they disbelieved His word, they also disbelieved an even more basic truth: that God is good.
The most disastrous result was not condemning rebellion or physical punishment, but loss of intimacy with the Father.
If you know that you know that you know that God is good in a general sense, then you know that the intentions of His heart toward you are good. His goodness seeps into your relationship with Him, steeping all your interactions with trust and openness.
Let's go back once again to my oft-cited favorite verses in 1 John 1:3-4.
...that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.
The whole aim of all that they had seen and heard--everything Jesus did, including His crucifixion and resurrection--was to bring us into fellowship with the Father, Jesus, and the church. The chief object was open, pure relationship, which produces joy.
John goes on: This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.
This paragraph seems roundabout and repetitive, but I think John is trying very hard to express how good God is and how much we can trust Him with our hearts--even hearts that are sinful. He is not condemning sinners, but rather encouraging them to approach the light and be cleansed, because we have a Father who is good. God's intentions toward us are always good, so He doesn't hurt those who come to Him and confess their problems. He is just to forgive our sins, because Jesus has already paid the price for them; it would be unjust for Him to still hold us accountable.
In short, true, transformative change comes into our lives when we are honest with God about our sin and problems, when we give Him permission to come inside of us with His light, expose what needs exposing, and heal whatever He wants.
It's relatively easy to trust God with your eternity; billions of people around the world have done it. It gets harder to tell Him we'll trust Him with our daily circumstances on earth. It is even harder to give things up for the sake of following Him, and then even harder when we actually begin to follow Him by serving and sharing the gospel.
I think the hardest thing, though, is coming to the Father and offering yourself--your very being--without knowing the end result. It's saying, "I trust you to come inside of me and do your redemptive, healing work wherever you need to. Make me into the person You imagined, not who I can imagine."
It's one thing to trust Him with our stuff, even our lives; but it's quite another to trust Him with our pain, our sin, our shame, and our wounds, the parts of our very selves that are so deep and dark that even we don't want to go there.
I think the only way we can do this is to know that He is good. We have to trust that what He does in us won't hurt us, but will redeem and restore us.
We can see the Father's heart in Jesus' fervent prayer for us, recorded in John 17.
"Holy Father," He implored, "keep thm in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one...that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves" (17:11 and 13).
And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete (1 John 1:4).
He is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. There is no chance anything dark can get us while we are in His presence. Know that today. He is asking us to go deeper into intimacy with Him. The thought can be scary, but the result is joy.
We are defined in light of His goodness and love, not our...well, our anything. It may sound strange, but if someone asks us who we are, our reply ought to be, "The Father is good."
Our meaning of the word "good" has been reduced to a bland generalization, thanks to phrases like, "Now, be a good girl," and "This pie is so good!"
But we ought to look to the Father for our definition of goodness. He doesn't lie (Numbers 23:19). He is just (Luke 18:7, 1 Thessalonians 1:6). His word is always true (Psalm 33:4, John 17:17). He is good.
Man fell in the Garden because he failed to believe this simple truth. Adam and Eve distrusted what God had told them. As they disbelieved His word, they also disbelieved an even more basic truth: that God is good.
The most disastrous result was not condemning rebellion or physical punishment, but loss of intimacy with the Father.
If you know that you know that you know that God is good in a general sense, then you know that the intentions of His heart toward you are good. His goodness seeps into your relationship with Him, steeping all your interactions with trust and openness.
Let's go back once again to my oft-cited favorite verses in 1 John 1:3-4.
...that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.
The whole aim of all that they had seen and heard--everything Jesus did, including His crucifixion and resurrection--was to bring us into fellowship with the Father, Jesus, and the church. The chief object was open, pure relationship, which produces joy.
John goes on: This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.
This paragraph seems roundabout and repetitive, but I think John is trying very hard to express how good God is and how much we can trust Him with our hearts--even hearts that are sinful. He is not condemning sinners, but rather encouraging them to approach the light and be cleansed, because we have a Father who is good. God's intentions toward us are always good, so He doesn't hurt those who come to Him and confess their problems. He is just to forgive our sins, because Jesus has already paid the price for them; it would be unjust for Him to still hold us accountable.
In short, true, transformative change comes into our lives when we are honest with God about our sin and problems, when we give Him permission to come inside of us with His light, expose what needs exposing, and heal whatever He wants.
It's relatively easy to trust God with your eternity; billions of people around the world have done it. It gets harder to tell Him we'll trust Him with our daily circumstances on earth. It is even harder to give things up for the sake of following Him, and then even harder when we actually begin to follow Him by serving and sharing the gospel.
I think the hardest thing, though, is coming to the Father and offering yourself--your very being--without knowing the end result. It's saying, "I trust you to come inside of me and do your redemptive, healing work wherever you need to. Make me into the person You imagined, not who I can imagine."
It's one thing to trust Him with our stuff, even our lives; but it's quite another to trust Him with our pain, our sin, our shame, and our wounds, the parts of our very selves that are so deep and dark that even we don't want to go there.
I think the only way we can do this is to know that He is good. We have to trust that what He does in us won't hurt us, but will redeem and restore us.
We can see the Father's heart in Jesus' fervent prayer for us, recorded in John 17.
"Holy Father," He implored, "keep thm in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one...that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves" (17:11 and 13).
And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete (1 John 1:4).
He is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. There is no chance anything dark can get us while we are in His presence. Know that today. He is asking us to go deeper into intimacy with Him. The thought can be scary, but the result is joy.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
He is Good
I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one.--1 John 13-14
Much of the time, the things we think about ourselves are not what God thinks of us. As humans, we tend to construct our identities based what we can or can't do, how we fail, what we don't like about ourselves, what we wish were different about our circumstances, or bad things that have happened to us in the past. Our identities become this baklava made of a complex construction layers and filling, but instead of being crispy and delicious, they are grievous and hard to swallow.
Strip all of that stuff away, because the ONLY thing that matters about you is that God is ABSOLUTELY good, and this being who can do no evil loves you with an incorruptible love.
Taste and see that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8).
Let me repeat: God is good, and the only thing that matters is that you are loved by Him.
A lot has happened since I last wrote almost a month ago. I have moved to a new state, started a new job, and seen the provision of God in the smallest of details during the transition. I have only been here a week, but He has made my path very clear down to the barest of details. I have stepped into blessings I did not ask for, blessings I couldn't have anticipated.
But one of the most important things that happened this month is that I really started to get it: my identity is that He loves me.
If you've read some of my past blog posts, you know that perfectionism and self-condemnation has been a struggle of mine. My natural tendency is to focus on what I have failed to acheive. When it comes to certain disciplines and weaknesses, I expect to disappoint myself.
Before I moved, I made several trips to Texas for interviews, housing searches, and general survey of the promised land. During one of these visits, my best good friend came with me, and she and I sat in the car to read the Bible outside of our lunch destination. (They have Chipotle here!!!! So exciting!) We were reading 1 John.
...that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete (1:4).
John continues with a verse I've often quoted: This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
God is completely good and pure. He has lived with the Son in perfect, pure intimacy since the beginning of time. And He wants to have that intimacy with us, so that His joy and our joy may be complete.
We overcomplicate this so much in our human hearts.
As I sat there in the parking lot discussing how good the Father is, I started to share with my friend about the layers of my own identity that I don't like. I have often felt like I don't seek Him enough or love Him enough, and that I've been resistant to His ways. I started to tell her about the ways I feel disappointed in myself and frustrated with my own spiritual imperfection.
Here I was, being blessed with a new place to live in a new season of life, and I was considering the ways I fail and don't deserve to be blessed. I think people on the outside often see me much more accurately than I see myself, because they can see that my heart is with His heart. But my mind is a complicated place, and it is constantly over-analyzing every thought and feeling.
My friend responded by telling me who God sees when He looks at me: His beloved child, whom He can't wait to bless. He sees someone who has not been resistant to His love, but rather an active seeker of His presence.
I started to cry. (In a parking lot...awkward, I know.) But my tears were not tears of frustration. Rather, they were tears of relief.
There is an incredible relief in realizing that my identity as a believer is not based on who I think I am, but what He thinks of me. My identity isn't based on anything having to do with me at all, really--it's only based on who He is.
And He is perfect and good. His love is complete light--absolutely without any negative intention or thought. It is so incredibly simple, yet so powerful that it crucified sin and defeated death for the sake of the beloved.
The beloved is YOU.
He has one expectation of us: that we receive His love.
Ironically, I think that is the thing we fail most at as Christians, and it is the thing that matters most to His heart. As we struggle to succeed in so many areas of morality and service, we neglect the one thing He treasures the most: our ability to accept His love.
I want to ask you today what my friend asked me: What are the ways in which you think you are inadequate?
And then: Why does that matter?
Go back to the list of Christian identifiers in 1 John 2:12-14. There are only three verbs in this description: you know (the Father and His Word), you are (forgiven), and you have overcome. That's past tense. The evil one has been overcome, not because of what you did, but because of what you know and believe.
Our identity is that we are loved by a perfect God. That's it. There is nothing else.
Know and believe that today. Strip away the layers of lies and abide in the simple, pure light of an identity of love.
You might have to cry in a restaurant parking lot. But believe me, the realization is worth it.
Much of the time, the things we think about ourselves are not what God thinks of us. As humans, we tend to construct our identities based what we can or can't do, how we fail, what we don't like about ourselves, what we wish were different about our circumstances, or bad things that have happened to us in the past. Our identities become this baklava made of a complex construction layers and filling, but instead of being crispy and delicious, they are grievous and hard to swallow.
Strip all of that stuff away, because the ONLY thing that matters about you is that God is ABSOLUTELY good, and this being who can do no evil loves you with an incorruptible love.
Taste and see that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8).
Let me repeat: God is good, and the only thing that matters is that you are loved by Him.
A lot has happened since I last wrote almost a month ago. I have moved to a new state, started a new job, and seen the provision of God in the smallest of details during the transition. I have only been here a week, but He has made my path very clear down to the barest of details. I have stepped into blessings I did not ask for, blessings I couldn't have anticipated.
But one of the most important things that happened this month is that I really started to get it: my identity is that He loves me.
If you've read some of my past blog posts, you know that perfectionism and self-condemnation has been a struggle of mine. My natural tendency is to focus on what I have failed to acheive. When it comes to certain disciplines and weaknesses, I expect to disappoint myself.
Before I moved, I made several trips to Texas for interviews, housing searches, and general survey of the promised land. During one of these visits, my best good friend came with me, and she and I sat in the car to read the Bible outside of our lunch destination. (They have Chipotle here!!!! So exciting!) We were reading 1 John.
...that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete (1:4).
John continues with a verse I've often quoted: This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
God is completely good and pure. He has lived with the Son in perfect, pure intimacy since the beginning of time. And He wants to have that intimacy with us, so that His joy and our joy may be complete.
We overcomplicate this so much in our human hearts.
As I sat there in the parking lot discussing how good the Father is, I started to share with my friend about the layers of my own identity that I don't like. I have often felt like I don't seek Him enough or love Him enough, and that I've been resistant to His ways. I started to tell her about the ways I feel disappointed in myself and frustrated with my own spiritual imperfection.
Here I was, being blessed with a new place to live in a new season of life, and I was considering the ways I fail and don't deserve to be blessed. I think people on the outside often see me much more accurately than I see myself, because they can see that my heart is with His heart. But my mind is a complicated place, and it is constantly over-analyzing every thought and feeling.
My friend responded by telling me who God sees when He looks at me: His beloved child, whom He can't wait to bless. He sees someone who has not been resistant to His love, but rather an active seeker of His presence.
I started to cry. (In a parking lot...awkward, I know.) But my tears were not tears of frustration. Rather, they were tears of relief.
There is an incredible relief in realizing that my identity as a believer is not based on who I think I am, but what He thinks of me. My identity isn't based on anything having to do with me at all, really--it's only based on who He is.
And He is perfect and good. His love is complete light--absolutely without any negative intention or thought. It is so incredibly simple, yet so powerful that it crucified sin and defeated death for the sake of the beloved.
The beloved is YOU.
He has one expectation of us: that we receive His love.
Ironically, I think that is the thing we fail most at as Christians, and it is the thing that matters most to His heart. As we struggle to succeed in so many areas of morality and service, we neglect the one thing He treasures the most: our ability to accept His love.
I want to ask you today what my friend asked me: What are the ways in which you think you are inadequate?
And then: Why does that matter?
Go back to the list of Christian identifiers in 1 John 2:12-14. There are only three verbs in this description: you know (the Father and His Word), you are (forgiven), and you have overcome. That's past tense. The evil one has been overcome, not because of what you did, but because of what you know and believe.
Our identity is that we are loved by a perfect God. That's it. There is nothing else.
Know and believe that today. Strip away the layers of lies and abide in the simple, pure light of an identity of love.
You might have to cry in a restaurant parking lot. But believe me, the realization is worth it.
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