Romans 8:15-17: The Cast of Characters Called "Father"

"In the absence of a real father, I had a cast of characters that were at times hilarious, pitiful, perfect, kind and wise." - Donald Miller, Father Fiction, p. 5

How many of those I care about grew into adulthood without a father in the house? Several. The stories are different, but the emotions are similar. Many of those struggle themselves in their relationships, priming the cycle to repeat. It also makes it difficult to understand our relationship with God the Father, forcing us to rely on other analogies and descriptions. Consider Paul's powerful call to spiritual freedom in his letter to the Romans:

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. - Romans 8:15-17

When Jesus purchased us from sin and death, where we were slaves,  he did not merely make us slaves again under a new, more benevolent regime. Rather he adopted us as children and co-heirs of the vast privilege conferred upon Jesus.

But is that a good thing? For those whose experience within families has been generally positive, it may be hard to even understand this question. "Of course its a good thing!" But for those whose relationship with parents has been painful, confusing or absent the idea of placing God into the Father role may not seem so appealing.

In fact, the slave role may seem simpler and less emotionally risky. Commands are given on one hand and carried out on the other. I don't have to like the Master, I just have to obey the Master. Do what He wants, no one gets hurt, I pay a well-defined cost resulting in well-defined benefits, and my emotions are my own.

The role of Father (or, worse, Abba or Daddy!) carries with it the expectation that I should love God, that I should feel something for God, that I should long to be near him. Uncertain about fathers in general, some might wonder whether they want to slot God into that role in their lives.

There is fear there. Fear of putting any person or institution or idea into such a powerful role within our lives. We try to protect ourselves by never filling that vacancy, never ceding authority or emotional significance to a "Father". But we have to recognize it for what it is: fear. Fear of what God might do, what disappointment he might inflict, what foolishness he might get us into.

It is exactly the role of Father that casts this fear out. Not the type of father we might have experienced or which we might still dread, but the type of father we were designed to be in relationship with. For those of us with a less-than-perfect family landscape, it is unfamiliar territory but the journey through that territory is one worth making.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. - 1 John 4:18

John 12:23-28: My Life's Purpose is Not Me

There was a period in each of our childrens' lives where their favorite sentence was one word: "Why?" Many times, in exasperation, our favorite reply was also one word: "Because." Later, when we were a little more clever and a lot more tired, it expanded to two words: "Why not?"

Obviously these were not satisfactory answers are just obfuscation to buy us a few moments respite before "Why?" resumed. Honestly, we labored to answer with as much honesty and thoroughness as we could, but they stretched our imagination and creativity.

Why? Why not? Really fundamental questions. It was Gottfried Leibniz who queried, "Why is there something rather than nothing?" Why? Why not? Or to bring it to a more personal level, "Why me rather than not me?" Would the universe care or even notice if there were one fewer sentient being alive, or would it simply carry on as before? Really, I'd like to know if I make a difference.

Even Christians ask these questions. Theology doesn't remove the issue, just transfers the locus to God. Follow me here: If God does whatever he purposes, and none can prevent his purposes from being accomplished (cf. Isaiah 55:11), then why bother with me? Does God really care what I do (if he can bypass me) and, if so, what next?

These issues can seem theoretical. But knowing the "Why?" helps making choices. Which job? Which friends? Which hobbies? Which thoughts? Which risks?

Jesus spoke about his purpose in several places in the four biographies in the Bible. Sometimes he spoke about what it was: "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." (Luke 19:10) Other times he spoke about what it was not: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them." (Matthew 5:17)

Jesus understood his purpose. This allowed Jesus to select among the courses of action available to him. This allowed Jesus to line up his life with God's bigger purpose.

So, over the next few blog articles, I'm going to look at Jesus' purpose, as he described it. Then I'm going to figure out how to imitate him, as best I can.

The first thing I learned is: My Life's Purpose is Not Me. Here is what Jesus said:

“Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!” - John 12:27-28

Jesus is arriving at an appointment scheduled in God's plan. He held within his power the ability to steer a course away from pain, betrayal and shame (see Matthew 26:53). The full consequences of both alternatives were before him and he felt them both keenly. His soul was troubled by the decision.

In the end, though, what moved Jesus? What was the target for his life's trajectory? His purpose was to risk his own life to build the reputation (the 'glory') of God. "Father, glorify your name." His life was not about his self; it was about the Father. His life was spent making God look good and furthering God's purpose.

What do we usually do here when it comes to purpose? Be the best you can be. Pursue what you love. Make an impact on the world. Be happy. Survive Monday. These purposes revolve around self. Left in default mode, my purposes reset to my self. My interests. My passions. My fulfillment. My enjoyment. My impact.

But Jesus' purposes revolved around God the Father. He consciously rejects the "save me" and accepts the "your name" That choice had consequences and he knew it. "He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die." (vs. 33). But consequences of any other choice he could make it were worse: "Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life." (vs. 25)

The second thing I learned is: My Life's Is Best Risked On God's Goodness. If you look closely, Jesus defined what he meant by "this hour" back in verse 23: Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Jesus often used the phrase "Son of Man" when speaking about himself. Read it again. Wait, you say, "Aren't we talking about building up the Father's glory? But Jesus is saying he [Jesus] will be glorified. What's up?" Good question. When Jesus fulfilled his purpose by setting aside any personal agenda, Jesus showcased God. Then God the Father chose to spotlight Jesus! Paul says it this way: ...he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place...to the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:8-11) Jesus gave it all away, trusting God would give it back. So must I. That's a risk I must be willing to take.

The third (and final) thing I learned is: My Life Is Best Invested With God. "Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds." (vs. 24) The seed that clings to life, yields one plant. The seed that dies, produces many. There is no other life path which offers the scale of guaranteed return as a life risked for him. Reverend George Mackay, missionary in northern Taiwan, famously said, "Rather burn out than rust out."

Time to stop playing it safe. My step today, as on many other days, is to take my life, my family, my bank account, my job, my goals and my reputation and offer them to God. If I am honest, it is gut wrenching. But my life is not about protecting these for me, but spending them for God.

Joshua 24:15: Choose For Yourselves

Within my own experience, working for a company that is based out of Taiwan, there is a chasm between the concepts about spiritual life held by most of my colleagues and the concepts about spiritual life found in the Bible. This gap will not be bridged by a basic gospel presentation because the terms are not readily intelligible.

Many of the key ideas, such as God, sin, Jesus, repentance and faith are fading into the dim cultural awareness of those in the West. We must assume that to discuss these ideas, we must introduce them.

Sometimes we look at a quote from Joshua "...then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve" (Josh. 24:15) we focus on the "this day" aspect of the choice. However, we neglect the experience of Joshua's audience (Israelis) over the preceding years whereby he could make the appeal to them. "...choose...whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord." They had a wealth of other spiritual alternatives they could choose from, all with ancient pedigrees, impressive achievements and persuasive prophets. But they also had been led across the Jordan River in Joshua's company. This was a process of small and large decisions in which they learned about God's story that led them to this point of decision.

We often neglect the years of process in our rush to the day of decision.

Tim Keller, in his book Center Church, says, "many people process from unbelief to faith through 'mini-decisions'." (p. 281) There is a moment of trust but also there are steps that typically bring an individual to a point of trust. In post-Christian and non-Christian cultures, the steps are often far apart in time.

Keller lists six typical steps or "mini-decisions:

1. Awareness: "I see it." They begin to clear the ground of stereotypes and learn to distinguish the gospel from legalism or liberalism, the core from the peripheral.
2. Relevance: "I need it." They begin to see the slavery of both religion and irreligion and are shown the transforming power of how the gospel works.
3. Credibility: "I need it because it's true." This is a reversal of the modern view that states, 'It's true if I need it." If people fail to see the reasonableness of the gospel, they will lack the endurance to persevere when their faith is challenged.
4. Trial: "I see what it would be like." They are involved in some sort of group life, in some type of service ministry, and are effectively trying Christianity on, often talking like a Christian-even defending the faith at times.
5. Commitment: "I take it" This may be the point of genuine conversion, or sometimes a person will realize that conversion already happened and they just didn't grasp it at the time.
6. Reinforcement: "Now I get it." Typically, this is the place where the penny drops and the gospel becomes even clearer and more real.

This is not a linear process, because relationships are not linear. But each mini-decision crosses a line where a person can imagine themselves as a Christian.

My question for myself is how to help my friends, neighbors and colleagues towards the next mini-decision. Some of it is the way I live my life. Some of it is the conversations we share. Some of it is the things we do together. All of it is intentional: Deliberately loving people.

Acts 16: The Every Member Gospel Ministry

Tim Keller, in his book Center Church, talks about what he calls "every-member gospel ministry"(p. 280). We want every member of our churches to be ministers, but we also tend to place rather severe limitations of what that ministry can look like and still be "ministry". When we think to "equip his [Jesus'] people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up" (Eph. 4:12) we imagine better Sunday services, outreach campaigns, childrens' programs or Bible studies.

But consider my 24/6 life. That's the life I spend outside of church functions. What if my ministry exists there? Is the church equipping me to extend the kingdom of God in and through my job, family and community? And what does ministry look like there?

Keller notes four characteristics typical of this every-member gospel ministry:

• Organic. It happens spontaneously, outside of the church's organized programs (even though it occasionally makes use of formal programs).
• Relational. It is done in the context of informal personal relationships.
• Word deploying. It prayerfully brings the Bible and gospel into connection with people's lives.
• Active, not passive. Each person assumes personal responsibility for being a producer rather than just a consumer of ministry; 

The church is the enabler for such gospel ministry, giving truth and direction and resources (what I call air/food/water) and networking (aka fellowship). Some of my previous blog articles have reflected on the church as a ministry incubator. These ministries are gospel-targeted, and designed to welcome people into some form of community where they have regular, sustained contacts with multiple believers so they "come to understand the character of God, sin and grace. Many of their objections are answered through this process. Because they are 'on the inside' and involved in ongoing relationships with Christians, they can imagine themselves as Christians and see how faith fleshes out in real life" (p. 281)

The book of Acts contains numerous examples of ministry sprouting gospel wings from the household (oikos) of new believers. Most of these examples have been used to justify house churches (in my experience), but Keller here uses them as a model for churches to consult in enabling every-member gospel ministry. In Acts 16, Lydia's home and the jailer's home become became a "ministry center in which the gospel was taught to all the household's members and neighbors." (p. 278) Likewise in Acts 17:5, Acts 18:7, Acts 21:8 and 1 Corinthians 1:16, 16:15.

So my 24/6 life is ministry. It is active, not passive. It is Word [truth] deploying. It is relational. And it happens mostly outside of my church's organized program.  Does it replace church? No, church is huddle, the respite where we take a breath and get our next play. Life is where we carry out that play to advance to the goal.

Colossians 1:13: Imperialism by Act of Love

On June 16th, Jeremiah Heaton planted the blue flag with four stars and a crown and declared that Bir Tawil, a 800-square-mile patch between Sudan and Egypt, was now the "Kingdom of North Sudan" He was the king and his 7 year old daughter, Emily, was now a princess. "Heaton says his claim...is legitimate...exactly how several other countries, including what became the United States, were historically claimed. The key difference, Heaton says, is that those historical cases of imperialism were acts of war while his was an act of love."[1]

As followers of Jesus, the kingdom of God is planted wherever He sends us. We are his sovereign territory. "For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves." (Col. 1:13) As such, we live as foreigners and resident aliens in this world, arguably subversive since Jesus said, of the devil: "Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out." (John 12:31) Each home, each office, each shop, each field and school becomes a beach head in God's plan to bring about Jesus' prayer: "...your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." (Matt. 6:10)

But is it a kingdom if no one recognizes its existence? For Jeremiah Heaton, if the neighboring countries with political control or the United Nations don't acknowledge "North Sudan" is it real? For the kingdom of God, the king will receive universal acknowledgement: "every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord." (Phil. 2:10b-11a)

The kingdom of God is not a geographic location, but a new demographic, marked by those related to the king.



[1]Ileana Najarro, The Washington Post as cited in The Sacramento Bee, July 14, 2014, A10

2 Timothy 2:22: Pennysaver Messages to the Church

"Eric G. We want to hear your voice & make sure you're O.K. Please. It's been 6-months, time heals all. Please call home. Love, Mom, Dad, Heather." 

"Please pray for Rose. I need a job."

"Happy birthday Dad! With love. From your girls, TJ and Sarah." 

- Pennysaver 23544, July 9, 2014.

I found these notes in the "Messages" section of my local weekly mailer, tucked between the "Animals/Pets" and the churches listed in "Neighborhood News" There is something simple, public and raw about these declarations that makes me want to join them.  

This is one of the places that church is at its best and at its worst. At its best, it is the family that grows, laughs and cries together before God. "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it." (1 Cor. 12:26) At its worst, it is that same family, but torn apart by selfishness. Not pain or sorrow, but selfishness. That's why Paul advised, "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves" (Phil. 2:3) 

Obviously, these people didn't look to the church for either. They rather posted (literally!) their concerns to the pages destined for recycling bins. Church was a worse bet than Pennysaver for sympathy. I am a worse bet than Pennysaver for sympathy, most days. But I did stop and pray for each. And I ask you to go out of your way to be the attentive ears and extended hands of Jesus this week. 

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." - Psalm 34:18

Finding God's Will In 250+ Pieces of Paper

What have I learned after sifting through 250+ resumes along with my 8 fellow pastoral search committee members?

1. Lots of gifted, godly, experienced men of God currently in transition in their ministry lives.
2. Lot of circumstances lead to transitions in church leadership.
3. Pastors don't realize how many people are applying for a position.

Even glimpsing the lives of so many pastors has given me a greater appreciation of the stresses that life in the church puts on those who are called into full-time ministry. Their resumes reveal the inherent contradiction in what we (as churches) ask them to do when they submit their application: they must be a humble servant-leader and at the same time they must put forward their strengths and successes. Few manage the balance well.

How hard it is  to weigh a man by a piece of paper! We asked God to protect the resume of the man who is best suited to Cornerstone. We didn't want to dismiss one that was unimpressive or accept one that was glossy and slick just because they were unimpressive or slick. We meditated on those Bible passages which dealt with discernment and God's insight vs. our insight, because we realized that a man's life was at stake and we were likely to get it wrong without help.

But in the end, you feel like you are standing in a grocery store in the condiments aisle. All good quality. All tested. But which one goes best with Cornerstone, in God's opinion? Because we can't hire them all. Or would just anyone do?

Another aspect that came out early is that the committee must be the first to believe that God still has a plan to use Cornerstone for good in El Dorado Hills. In discussing this, we felt it would be dishonest to call a man to invest his life and his family's life here if we didn't believe God had something more for this church.

It is a slow process. "Do not be hasty in the laying on of hands, and do not share in the sins of others." (1 Tim. 5:22a) From the time that we received the first application until the time we sent the first rejection letter was just over 3 months. That means that the lives of these pastors have been in suspense for at least that long. I feel for them. I answered each query about status personally. But at the same time, it just takes time. During that time, some have left their current positions anyway. Some have joined another ministry. Some are still seeking God's direction.

It's all good, because both the pastor and Cornerstone must follow God in service of his church. In thriving churches, senior pastors must sense the wind of the Spirit to steer the church into the life-giving role God has for it in the community.

John 1:23: Slow Train Coming

I've spent a lot of this past week on trains, both in Taiwan (to Jiaoxi and Taichung) and between Sacramento and the San Francisco airport. So its not surprising that I was reminded of chapter 14 of Rick Mckinley's book This Beautiful Mess, which is entitled "Slow Train Coming" The chapter refers to the iconic Bob Dylan album of the same name which features a picture of a rail crew laying track before an on-coming train. In this section, Mckinley talks about the already-here but not yet aspects of the kingdom of God.

Cover Art for Slow Train Coming by Bob Dylan

But to me it also reflects the already-here but not yet aspects of my work within the kingdom of God. On one hand, Jesus has already gone before me. As it says in Hebrews: "...Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Heb. 12:2a) He blazed the trail that I am following and prepared the way for me. Paul says: "For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." (Eph. 2:10).

On the other hand, God has called me to break ground for those who would follow behind me in the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is coming up behind, the "slow train" and I'm laying track. Talking about calling! John the Baptist said this: "Finally they said, “Who are you?" ... John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’” (John 1:22-23) This is interesting, because only in John's biography of Jesus does it mention this appropriation of the prophecy as his mission. The others merely mention he was fulfilling it (cf. Mark 1:3, Matthew 3:3, Luke 3:4).

I sense that John's mission is my own: the make straight the way for the Lord. The prophecy John cited continues in the original (Isaiah 40): 

Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together. (Isa 40:4-5a)

There are many ways for this mission to take shape, but it the result is clear: the extension of the rule of God and the blessings of God where God has called me. Riding on the train, there are places where the track hugs the shoreline, and there are places where it strikes out easily across the plains. But the east side of Taiwan is rugged, mountainous country. Make the railway smooth enough for the train requires some major engineering and restructuring of the landscape. Look at Isaiah's language again: valleys raised up, mountains made low, rough become level, rugged becomes smooth.

So Jesus has blazed the trail, but now we lay the rail for the kingdom of God to come.

Amtrak Train Arriving At The Station

Colossians 3:24 Different Classes of Service

One day, a few years ago, this little sentence embedded in Paul's letter to the Colossians struck me: "It is the Lord Christ you are serving." (3:24b). Growing up in church as a kid, there always seemed to be a hierarchy of "service" to God. Upper class service was the work done by missionaries (always at the top of the heap), followed by pastors and then other full-time ministry workers and maybe full-time moms. Middle class service involved volunteering at church or in some para-church organization, and if you worked really hard you might be approaching upper class. Lower class service involved what people did in their jobs, which basically helped to make money to support the church and to give us an opportunity to evangelize our co-workers. Pastors never talked about kids growing up to be truck drivers, computer programmers or clinical biologists for God. No, if you were the good kids, you went for the pastorate or the foreign missionary life.

But this sentence, "It is the Lord Christ you are serving." gave me new perspective, because it comes right at the tail end of Paul's instructions to slaves:

Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. - Colossians 3:22-24

Slaves had no choice in their lowly tasks. Slaves had no choice in their lowly position. They couldn't choose to become a missionary or a pastor (see Onesimus in the book of Philemon). But they had a choice of boss: Jesus. With that choice, they gained the dignity of a calling as high and as spiritual as any pastor or missionary, because they are obedient. With Jesus as boss, he could reassign them at any time to those roles, or he ask them to remain in their current role. The notion of calling is not reserved for full-time ministry positions (cf. 1 Corinthians 7) but rather to being exactly where God placed you. And being invested where God placed you is the essence of godly living.

Paul told believers what their ambition should be:

...make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. (1 Thess. 4:11-12)

Don't worry, there is a balance here. I have every respect for those who are called into full-time ministry and I have seen first hand the necessity of God's hand in those professions. But I refuse to feel guilty or lower class because my gracious calling from Jesus is to write code and design firmware. Sermons and C++ code are both the product of grace and, as such, are from God (James 1:17).

There is more here, and a number of believers seem to be rediscovering the dignity of the other 24/6 portion of our lives before God. I'll share more later.

Judges 8: The Dangers of Being a Hero

When I was growing up, Sunday School was often full of the exciting stories from the Bible. The Lion's Den. Noah's Ark. David and Goliath. Gideon's 300 Men. Reading those same stories now, as an adult, makes me wish that I had learned the rest of their stories, because it turns out that being a "hero" can be a pretty dangerous profession, spiritually.

I had just finished reading Tim Keller's short, but profound, commentary on Judges and then was reading Judges again as part of my morning Bible reading when I came to chapter 8. Normally, in Sunday School, we only covered chapters 6 and 7, because that has all of the good bits about trimming down the army, using a fleece to determine God's plan, the visit to the Midianite army's camp and the noisy trumpet/pitcher/torch victory scene.

As in life, there is the hero's quest but then there's the hero's test.  The hero's quest involves overcoming the obstacles, internal and external, to reaching the goal. But the hero's test involves how you handle what comes after you've reached the goal. That's Judges, chapter 8.

In chapter 8, Gideon's men scatter the Midianite army and Gideon rallies the other tribes of Israel to cut off their retreat.

1. He has to downplay his own heroic deeds to placate one of the other tribes (8:1-3) that is much larger and more powerful.
2. When his heroic deeds are not recognized by people (8:4-9, 15-17) he promises and delivers revenge. (King David almost falls into the same trap in 1 Samuel 25)
3. He is taunted by his enemies about being the hero (8:18-21)
4. He turns down the offer of kingship, but takes the hero's reward, creates an idol in his home town (8:22-27), and draws Israel and his family away from God.

You can certainly see this played out in the world at large, and even within the microcosm of the church. We desire to be recognized and significant, not just in the eyes of God but in the eyes of other people. But we are clever enough to realize that if we are too blatant in our desire, it will back fire.

So it leads to a weird cycle of hide-it-crave-it-abuse-it behavior that we see in Gideon's life and ours as well. Gideon hides it from the Ephraimites who are more powerful, but wants it and takes it out on two villages who are less powerful. Gideon hides it from the Israelites by refusing to become king, but wants it and takes a reward, and then fashions it into the ephod that draws attention to his home town.

The cycle actually continues into the lives of Gideon's sons, especially Abimilek (vs. 31) in the next chapter: "They [Israel] also failed to show any loyalty to the family of Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) in spite of all the good things he had done for them." (Judges 8:25)

In church, we see these same desires for recognition played out, just a different venue. We work hard in church and sacrifice our time and our money and, in some cases, our reputation for the good of the church. We are overlooked. And if we are noticed, we have to downplay it so that we don't look too prideful. Then we get hurt because no one noticed or angry because someone else got noticed or someone treated us carelessly. Or if we are noticed, we use it regularly in the future to subtly point attention back to ourselves (and away from God).

Helen pointed me to a quote by Oswald Chambers, where he said,

Worldliness is not the trap that most endangers us as Christian workers; nor it is sin. The trap we fall into is, extravagantly desiring spiritual success measured by, and patterned after, the form set by this religious age in which we now live.

The truth is: Gideon didn't win because he was biggest, best or smartest, and neither do I. He won because he bet everything he did have on God and God is the biggest, best and smartest. Gideon's faith was nothing to shout about, it took two fleece miracles and a dream from God to move him along. But he had it. He bet everything because God... That phrase puts the credit right back where it belongs.

I struggle with this. I'm not sure how it plays out in every scenario. But I can see in Gideon's life and in my own life, the destructive down-side of needing to be recognized for my work in God's kingdom. And the positive up-side of recognizing God's win as my win.

John Paul in Taiwan

It's not the pope, but rather John Paul Lin. As I was walking down the mountain from visiting Wufengqi falls in Jiaoxi, Taiwan, he was riding up on his bicycle. He noticed me, crossed the road and asked me where I'd come from. I mentioned the falls to which he replied, "Did you also go to St. Mary's?" (referring to the Catholic Church nearby). I indicated I had not (I'd tried but got lost part way and turned around) and he said I should come back and try again.

It turns out that he is a volunteer at the church, welcoming the many visitors who come this time of year who are also visiting the falls. "You need God to transform your heart." Then as he left (he what overslept), he asked, "Do you have God in your heart?" "Absolutely," I replied. He said, "Good. He is the one who gives you all your good ideas. Innovation."

Amazing to meet a fellow pilgrim on a Saturday in Jiaoxi.

How Then Should I Search?

One of my favorite verses in the Old Testament is from Habakkuk 3:

Lord, I have heard of your fame;
    I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord.
Repeat them in our day,
    in our time make them known;
    in wrath remember mercy.

There are times when entropy seems to have taken hold of my world and, valiantly as I struggle, things fall apart. Oh, I run to fix them up, hold them together, and patch them with duct tape and the measure of the grace of God given me. But these days produce in me a deep longing for things to go right, for once! Many of my prayers have centered around this.

Worse is the creeping fear that Jesus has passed by and I didn't notice. Maybe I didn't notice because I'm just not smart enough. Or maybe I didn't want to notice.

The first one, I understand because I am continually discovering how ignorant I am and scrambling to recover. That's my job. Sheesh, that's my marriage. That's my life in the kingdom of God. So I search intently for evidence of God's movement (1 Peter 1:10-12). That is a disciple--an apprentice.

The second one is more subtle. Jesus told a story about people like us (Luke 14:15-24) who were too busy to go to the huge party, probably a wedding. They'd just purchased a new field, a new set of 5 oxen or they'd just gotten married themselves (cf. Deut. 24:5 and what it implies) and couldn't be bothered to celebrate. For us today, perhaps this might be a new business, a new car or a new relationship. They all are saying, in essence, "I'm in the middle of the good life. Don't bother me with what God is doing." We didn't miss God. We traded him away.

So I pray for God to show his power in my day, because I'm tired. But I also pray that I am ready to see, participate and celebrate.

Dying Words to the Living: Good Friday 2014

[This sermon was preached on Good Friday 2014 at Cornerstone Christian Church, El Dorado Hills]

Dying Words for Living

Good Friday 2014

Introduction

DVD Illustration: Far and Away, ch. 1, 6:19-8:12 "“You’re an odd boy, Joseph.” You came back to tell me that?"

Matthew 27, Luke 23, John 19, Mark 15

But in many ways, the words of Jesus, spoken as he was hanging on the cross, are even stranger. If he really knew he was going to rise on the 3^rd day, couldn’t he have said some words of comfort? “Don’t worry folks, this death is just temporary.” Or “Don’t be sad. It will be all right.” Maybe even just a wink, to let those who knew, in on his little resurrection secret. But he didn’t. So, why did he speak seven times?

These last seven sentences of Jesus were from the cross, the place of execution. And each one cost him. Death on a cross is a slow, painful death by asphyxiation. Hanging down with your hands above you, you cannot breathe because your lungs cannot fill. In order to speak, Jesus had to raise himself, his hands pulling and his feet pushing against the iron nails that pinned them to the cross. His back, raw from the flogging with bits of nail and bone and glass, rubbing against the rough splintered face of the cross. Just to get a breath. He could choose to breathe, or he could choose to speak. Each word cost him. We listen to Jesus’ last words, not because he was ignorant of the coming resurrection, but because the people were living like they were ignorant of his impending return from death.

He spoke to give hope-but it was a strange type of hope. It is the type of hope that is only learned by coming face to face with the apparent absence of God. Jesus had been a visible, tangible part of people’s lives for at least three years and in some cases his whole life. Now he is going away. How those listening and watching Jesus react--good or bad--is a test of their hope because these days after Jesus’s death are a sneak preview of life. Now Jesus has returned to heaven and we who are heirs of the resurrection—we who possess the words of life--face the same test of our hope. Will we trust him? Will we take him at his word?

No. The answer is no. We fail. But it is in our failure that we must grapple with God’s great grace towards us. So these words of Jesus from the cross—these seven last words—teach us how to live with God’s absence, our failure, and God’s amazing goodness.

First, he offers forgiveness.

Forgiveness

Luke 23:34: Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

Executions were public. They were public spectacles. Like hangings, but stretching on for hours. The city of Jerusalem was full of pilgrims who had come to celebrate the Jewish holy day of Passover, which would start at sun down. The crucifixion of Jesus was like the television broadcast of an electric chair execution of a death row inmate. Horrifying, but somehow irresistible.

From the cross, erected on the hill Golgotha—which means ‘place of the skull’—Jesus had a unique, unenviable view of the variety within the crowds. Not everyone was sad to see Jesus go.  Not the priests, not the rulers, not the Romans.

The chief priests (who were Sadducees) were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position.  If the Romans saw him as ‘King of the Jews’ (as was written on the sign above his head, cf. John 19:19-21), they would, at best, remove the priesthood, and at worst, torch Jerusalem and the temple.  They had spent their life cultivating an uneasy truce—an accommodation--with the Romans and their culture. Jesus jeopardized that. They could breathe easy.

The rulers (who were probably Pharisees) were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position. They sneered, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.” (Luke 23:25). The Pharisees saw their country’s current pitiful situation as due to moral failure—a spurning of God’s laws. Their solution was demanding, exacting observance of the Law—for purification. Then they made laws about the laws. The Pharisees were the political correctness police—the arbiters of the Law. When Jesus exposed their do-gooder-ism was just a mask for selfishness trying to gain negotiating leverage with God, they decided he couldn’t be the Messiah. Time to look for another Messiah who met their criteria.

The Romans were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position. If Israel didn’t control the important trade route along the eastern edge of the Mediterranean, they probably would have given it up as too much trouble. Little Messiahs, little revolts, little bands of rebels.  Now the Jews want to hand one over for execution? Ok, no problem. The Roman soldiers thought it was funny that Jesus was all the “king” and “prophet” the Jews could come up with: “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” (Luke 23: 37, cf. Luke 22:64) He was a nuisance. But guard duty got the grave goods and a quick game of dice to decide who got the best piece.

Jesus looks down from the cross. “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” They want peace, but have missed the one who gives. When coming to Jerusalem, Jesus said:  “If you [Jerusalem], even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:42) What they really wanted was peace, and they were killing that peace on the cross.

But Jesus gives what they don’t even know they are missing. Jesus gives us what we don’t even know we are missing. The peace we deeply desire does not come from our position, our status or our significance. It comes from Jesus’ position, Jesus’ status and Jesus’ significance. We don’t know we are doing. But Jesus still offers forgiveness.

But we are not convinced that we need forgiveness. That is why Jesus’ second words from the cross tell us of separation.

Separation

Forgiveness is not free. In Matthew (27:46) it says: “About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

Jesus’ is quoting first line of an ancient song, recorded in the 22^nd psalm that describe the author’s feelings of separation from God. Why was he separated from God? Because of he had sinned against God. But wait. Jesus sinned? No. He carried our sin. The Bible says: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Cor. 5:21)

Something unique happened at the cross. For all of eternity, the Father and the Son and the Spirit, the three aspects or persons of God had lived together in perfect harmony and community. Jesus said, “I and the Father are one.” But on the cross the offenses of every man, woman and child is introduced to Jesus and he feels the separation that this sin necessarily implies and he cries out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” How can they live like this? How can they be ok with this? It is a half-life, with the spiritual part of us strangled--missing—dead.

Sin is not just what we have done wrong, it is the ‘being ok’ with being away from God.

That’s why Jesus third words are needed, to speak of salvation.

Salvation

Luke 23:43: Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus says these words to another audience. First, there were the chief priests, the rulers, the Romans and now there are…the rebels. While some translations use the word ‘robber’ or ‘thief’ a better word in this context is that Jesus was executed between two rebels—maybe even allies of Barabbas, the murderer released in the governor’s amnesty plan just hours before.

One of these rebels uses one of his last moments to insult Jesus: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:39) Talk about wasting your breath. If they were rebels, they fought against those who pushed them down-the Romans, to bring them down. Now, in death, the first rebel’s words to Jesus are angry words, to bring him down.

But the other rebel’s words are startling-so unexpected they deserve a careful look. First, he realizes that difference between his life and Jesus’ life: “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” (Luke 23:41) Second, breathtakingly, he asks for help, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42) I read that this week, and it almost made me laugh. The sheer audacity, the sheer craziness of asking a dying Jesus for help, it makes you wonder if the world is upside-down. Go to a hospital, find the man with the tubes running into his veins and in his nose and ask him for a portion in his kingdom? But he did. “Remember me…”

Jesus’ words let us know what is really essential. You can live for about 8 weeks without food, you can live for maybe a week without water, you can live for 4 minutes without air, but you cannot live for one moment longer…without the grace of God. “Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Salvation is the spiritual re-awakening to a starting-right-now eternal relationship with God - based on the Jesus’ act of forgiveness on the cross.

That forgiveness creates a new community. The community of the forgiven.  

Relationship

Jesus’ fourth words from the cross speak to this new type of community relationship, especially in the times when God seems distant.

John records (John 19:26-27): “When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”

Only one disciple is mentioned at the cross (John), but many women made the heart-wrenching trip to see Jesus die, including four(!) named Mary. This may seem obvious, but Jesus gave special attention to the spiritual lives of women in a society where they were ignored. They looked to Jesus as a rabbi, who would give significance, in his death, there was only resignation. They would watch him die, they would wail for him, they would perfume his body. They would carry on, but they had hoped for so much more. How much more for Mary, the mother of Jesus!

As the oldest son, Jesus would have received a double portion of the inheritance and a double portion of the responsibility, including the responsibility of looking after his mother. Upon Jesus’ death this role would have naturally fallen to James or one of Mary’s other children. Instead he charges John “whom he loved” with this family responsibility. Why? Because our relationship is closer.

In some ways, it is easier to love the family you were born with. Some families are great, some are horrible, but at least they are known quantities. But to love the family you have joined with Jesus, brings you into a brother/sister, parent/child, uncle/aunt/cousin relationship with, well, me, or you. All sorts of strange people.

Jesus was going away. But he left his new brothers and sisters to be Jesus with skin on. Will you be that?

Will you adopt someone in church? If you’re like me and struggle, just pick one. Start with one. Let God in and remake your heart towards one. Then make room for another. Play up the family of God. Play up the church. Don’t play it down.

He gave the word of Relationship because he knew we would need it.

Distress

Jesus’ fifth word speaks to us in our distress. He knew that we would need each other to do what God asks us to do.

John 19:28: Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.”

Why does Jesus say this? Some have looked at the “Scripture fulfilled” part and assumed Jesus did this because there was a prophecy (Isaiah 69:21) about supplying of wine vinegar to ease that thirst, Jesus said this. That is, Jesus had a mental prophecy checklist and there was one box still unchecked and he thought to himself after 6 hours hanging on the cross, “Guess I need a drink now.”

I think he said “I am thirsty” because….he was thirsty.

1. 1.    First, Jesus speaks to let us know that he has been at the physical extremes.
2. 2. Second, Jesus speaks to let us know that even in this distress, it is possible to be fulfilling God’s purpose.
3. 3. Third, Jesus speaks to let us know that admitting this allows others to step in and help.
4. 4. Fourth, Jesus speaks to let us know that allowing others to help is essential to fulfilling our purpose.
5. 
   
6. 
   

He knew thirst. He knew weariness. Dehydration was already setting in, and his mouth was parched, but he still needed to speak. We’re only on his fifth word, two more to go.

Someone, probably one of his disciples, heard his distress and ran to fill a sponge with a jar of wine vinegar, and lifted it to his lips. Wetting his lips, letting it dribble into his mouth, it was enough so that he could speak what came next.

Did you catch that? Jesus needed help to fulfill his purpose. In our life, we have a purpose. In our life, we have distress. The resource God provides to bridge purpose across the distress is other people. He has set up this group—this church--here so that we can bridge the distress.  There are only two categories: those in need and those in strength.

We need to fulfill our purpose and we need help.

Commitment

Then Jesus speaks in the sixth word to let us know where, despite all appearances, we should trust God.

Luke 23:46: Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. (Psalm 31:5)

In traditional Japanese restaurants, there is always a head chef, a master chef. You can go to these restaurants and you can order from a menu. Or you can say, “Omakase” which literally means “I leave it (or entrust it) to you.”  In which case you don’t get what you want, but rather what the excellence and creativity of the master chef can produce.  

Jesus’ words aren’t just the wishful thinking of a dying man saying, “I hope somebody is out there.” He says: “Father” he says. That’s relationship. “into your hands.” That’s what the Father can do. “I commit” That’s trust. “my spirit” That’s the extent of my commitment. This wasn’t just Jesus’ dying gasp, this was the way Jesus’ lived his life.

Each day, omakase. I entrust myself to you God. I await your excellence and creativity.

"I have placed many things in my hands and lost them all, but whatever I place in God's hands I still have them." ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Triumph

Jesus last word seems very final. “It is finished.” Done. Complete. Period. But the whole lesson that Jesus teaches through the cross is that, in God, every period is not the end of a sentence. It is the chance for God to write a new one.

John 19:30: When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

What was finished? His mission. “I have come that you may have life and have it more abundantly.” “I have come to seek and to save that which was lost.”

In the city, in the temple, on the eve Passover, the priests were preparing the lamb that commemorated God’s intervention to end the years of slavery and open the path to a new freedom. They did every year.

Outside the city, on a cross, on the eve of Passover, the soldiers were preparing the Jesus, the Lamb of God who commemorates God’s intervention in our lives to end years of slavery to sin and open the path to a new freedom. He did it once.

So what happened when Jesus said these last words:

First, “the curtain of the temple was torn.” Because of Jesus, we can have direct, restored, relationship with God. He bore the cost of forgiveness; the weight of our wrong-doing; so that we have access.

Matthew 27:50-54 (ESV), “And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yield up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.

Second, “the earth shook”. The natural world reacted.

And the earth shook, and the rocks were split.

Third, “the tombs also were opened and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised…” Death was breached. The sentence of sin has always been death. But the cross of Jesus goes past death, into new uncharted territory: resurrected life. We often think of life as being tied to “Easter” (with Jesus’ resurrection) but even in his death, there was life.

The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised and coming out the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many.

Fourth, the “centurion and those who were with him…were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the son of God.” It is interesting to note that in the death of Jesus only the criminal and the oppressor recognized Jesus’ death as extraordinary. The disciples, went away beating their breast. The women went away in resignation The Pharisees and chief priests went away in satisfaction.

When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God.”

It is finished. So that it can begin.

God will take us to the extremes, to bring out from our heart what really lies within. Jesus words give a guided tour of our reactions—to come face to face with our expectations, hopes and dreams and realize how utterly inadequate they are.

The problem is that our dreams are too small, because they revolve around us. It is not about us winning. It is about God winning.

The problem is that our dreams rely on us, getting our act together, managing the situation and getting out ahead. It is not about our getting out ahead.  It is about God being ahead.

The cross is the finish of dreams…our dreams. But it can be the start of God’s dreams, if we are willing to admit the gap between him and us, his understanding and ours, his forgiveness and our failures, bridged by the cross of Jesus.

Benediction

“I rise today with the power of God to pilot me. God's strength to sustain me God's wisdom to guide me, God's eye to look ahead for me, God's ear to hear me, God's word to speak for me, God's hand to protect me, God's way before me, God's shield to defend me, God's host to deliver me, from snares of devils, from evil temptations, from nature's failings, from all who wish to harm me, far or near, alone and in a crowd.” -- Patrick of Ireland

Romans 8:28-39: Love Conquers All

Love Conquers All

(Romans 8:28-39)

Introduction (vs. 28-30)

What is heaven like? (wait for response)

Why would God mess up his heaven with us? (love)

So what’s he going to do about it? Can he do anything about it?

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

The genius of God is his ability to take the worst situations and repurpose them for good. He does do it. He is doing it. For those who love him.

For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

Before you and I were born, before the Earth began, before we were even able to love Him, God was planning to love us. That’s what “predestined” refers to—God’s unchanging plan to love you and me.  God wants to be in a loving relationship with us.

God’s love leads to his desire to be close to him. He works for the good of those “who have been called.” “…those he predestined, he also called.” God wants us to be close to him, so he calls.

But now we come to that problem again: If heaven were populated with us, the way we are now, it would not be heaven. We would drag heaven down. Do you honestly think that progress has or ever will fundamentally change the problems we have, human to human? Do you think that putting us in a perfect place, with no wants or worries, would eliminate hatred, hurt, jealously, selfishness? Wait, that’s been tried before, in a place called Eden.

Nonetheless, God’s love will not be blocked. God’s plan is not primarily about getting us to heaven—God’s plan is about making us fit for heaven so that we don’t ruin it. Look at what it says: “…he also predestined us to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.” He doesn't just want to be your God. He wants to be your family. By every means at His disposal, he is changing you to be like your kuya (elder brother) Jesus. God wants us to be like Jesus. Heaven is the family reunion. Almighty God is using every resource He has to bring you into His family. God wants us to be family to him.  And here’s the crazy part: God made you part of His family before you acted like someone who should be a part of his family, with the full confidence that you will grow up to be just like Jesus. 

Looking around this room and looking the mirror, God’s view seems just a bit naive. I mean, just look at us. You know at the wedding, when the pastor or priest asks “if anyone knows of any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold you peace.”? When you say God loves you and you love God, someone is bound to raise their hand and say, “Excuse me, I have a few objections.” What are those objections?

• Opposition. You are not strong enough.
• Accusation. You are not good enough. 
• Labels. You are hopeless. 
• Separation. You are too weak.

The Opposition Says: You Are Not Strong Enough (vs. 31, 32)

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?

God loves us. God calls us. We make the first step. Then there’s the backlash. Then there’s the fallout. We have built up a lifetime of habits that reinforce the cycle of trying, hope and then disappointment. Our friends, our neighbors, our colleagues, our communities have built up a comfortable relationship with those habits.   Those habits, those patterns, those friends, those supports threaten to fall away. Fear speaks to us and says: you won’t make it.

When we start to move in response to God’s call on us, we find that the pattern of our life fights against us. This is the opposition.

God’s love says: You are weak, but I am strong enough for both of us.

The Accusation Says: You Are Not Good Enough. (vs.33)

Be honest:  have you ever seen your kids do something embarrassing, and turned to your spouse and said: “Anak mo iyan.” (that’s your kid!) Or have you ever seen your parents do something embarassing and turned to your siblings and said, “Kamaganak ba namin?” (are we related to them?)

As God changes us, making us like his son Jesus, there are failures. Not just mistakes. Failures. Not just set backs. Failures. Then there rises up the accuser say: if you were really the son or daughter of God, like you claim, you would never act like that, or think that or fail like that. Do you think Jesus would approve? Paul writes:

Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.

There was a story about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes novels, in the Washington Post many years ago.

"I heard Dr. Conan Doyle tell a good story during a trip I made to London last winter," said George D. Aldrich at the Arlington last night. "He said that at a dinner party he had attended the guests began discussing the daily discoveries made to the detriment of people occupying high stations in life and enjoying the confidence of the business world. Dr. Doyle said that it had always been his opinion that there was a skeleton in the closet of every man who had reached the age of forty. This led to a lot of discussion, some of the guests resenting the idea that there was no one who had not in his past something that were better concealed. As a result of the controversy, Dr. Doyle said, it was suggested that his views as to family skeletons be put to the test. The diners selected a man of their acquaintance whom all knew only as an upright Christian gentleman, whose word was accepted as quickly as his bond and who stood with the highest in every respect. 'We wrote a telegram saying 'All is discovered; flee at once" to this pillar of society,' said Dr. Doyle, 'and sent it. He disappeared the next day and has never been heard from since.'"[1]

God does not accept any accusation against us, because he has already changed our status from guilty to acquitted. There is no secret that will be uncovered and no accusation so shocking that it will change God’s mind because he knows it but has chosen to not hold it against us.

God’s love says: You are good enough, because I say so. Nothing will ever make me love you more. Nothing will ever make me love you less. You are family

The Labels Say: You Are Hopeless (vs. 34)

You will always be like that. The gavel comes down…bang! You don’t have to wear an orange jumpsuit. You now wear a label, whether official or unofficial, and it changes the way people treat you.  That label defines who you are.

Perhaps you struggled with finances, your spending was out of control, and then, too soon, the debt is compounding with interest and penalties and you have no hope. Creditors are calling you. No one lends you money. You are labeled a bad investment. That’s what you expect people to see.

Perhaps your relationship just gets worse and worse. You said things. He said things. Angry words. Mean words. Hurtful words. Now every conversation seem to push the same buttons and ends in a fight. You are labeled a failed marriage. That’s what you expect people to see.

It doesn’t take a judge to give you a label. We carry around a whole jury box in our heads, filled with voices who tell us: You are a _____ (you fill in the blank). Talagang ganiyan ka. Maybe it’s your parents. Maybe it is those teachers. Maybe it was those kids at school. They have pronounced judgment. Addict. Alcoholic. Liar. Betrayer. Mean. Failure. Loser.  And very often they are right. If you had a journal from where you listed out your struggles, would the entries today be similar to those 10 years ago? We can feel hopeless.

But Paul writes a different story:

Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

The voices around us tell us: you will always be like this.  What you are is what you will always be. You can’t escape your situation in life and you can’t escape your own bad habits.  That is what the world promises. Paul notes that Jesus died. Like everyone else. But then something strange happened. They went to the grave of Jesus on the third day and there was no dead body, because he broke the pattern of death and established a new precedent—he was raised to life. He pioneered something new.

You are not stuck with the label. That’s what Paul says: “Who then is the one who condemns?” Who judges, who assigns labels? Jesus has a new label for those who trust him—not a label of failure or disappointment or misfortune—no, the title he has given you is: son or daughter of the Most High God.

Now live like it. Are you struggling to make a name for yourself? Or are you rejoicing in the name Jesus has given us?

Those other failures? Yes, they are things you did, but they are not who you are, because Jesus is interceding for us.  

        So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. - Romans 8:1

--Forgiveness Interlude--

How can he do this? Sure, he wasn’t condemned because he was the perfect man. But he wasn’t just the perfect man, he is also the perfect God. This is important, because we are condemned to feel the results of the curse—death and failure—because we have offended God—hurt him. But God forgave our sin when Jesus took the pain upon himself. How?

When one person forgives another, it does not mean that there is no hurt and pain. It does not mean that it goes away or is forgotten. Rather, when one person forgives another, they take—carry--the hurt on themselves instead of requiring that the one who hurt them pay the penalty. Jesus’s suffering on the cross was the visible and tangible effect of God forgiving us. To forgive us, he took the pain on himself rather than requiring we pay ourselves.

--Forgiveness Interlude--

God’s love says: You are not hopeless, because you are who I say you are.

The Separation Says: You Are Too Weak (vs. 35-37)

Can I still have a meaningful life for God, with all of the bad things that have happened? We have wasted so much time with problems, so much energy with sickness and paying the rent, that there seems that there is nothing left for a relationship with God.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

Rick Hoyt Illustration

When Rick Hoyt was born, the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, cutting off oxygen to his brain.  He also had celebral palsy, meaning he can't control most of his movements.  The doctors told his parents to put him in an institution, because he would never walk, never write, never talk --they said he'd pretty much be "a vegetable" all his life.

His parents refused.  As he grew a bit older, they thought they detected intelligence in his eyes.  They sent him to public school.  When he was 11, they took him to Tufts University and asked some engineers there if there was a way to help him communicate.  The engineers didn't want to waste their time, so they asked for proof of his intelligence.  Dick said, "Tell him a joke," They did, and he laughed!  They built him a machine that let him type by tapping a stick with his head.

[1]

When Rick was in high school, a classmate of his was paralyzed in an accident.  The family couldn't afford the medical bills, so the school organized a 5-mile race to raise money.  Rick typed out "Dad, I want to do that."  At the time, his father, Dick was in pretty bad shape.  He pushed Rick in his wheelchair for the 5 miles, but he was sore for the next two weeks.  But at the end of the race, Rick typed out "Dad, when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!"

That sentence changed their lives.  Dick decided he was going to give Rick that feeling as much as he could.  He started training to get into shape.  In 1979, he felt he was ready to try pushing Rick in the Boston Marathon. "No way," said a race official.  But eventually, years later, Dick was in such good shape that they made the runner's qualifying time (even pushing a wheelchair)!

After that, someone suggested they do a triathlon:  swim 2 miles, bike 112 miles, and then run a 26-mile marathon!

As of January 2014, they'd competed in 70 marathons (best time 2:40:47), 247 triathlons, and numerous other races, including running across the country. [2]

The truth is that many things separate us from the love of Christ. But nothing separates the love of Christ from us.

Conclusion: God’s Love Wins, If You Let It (vs. 38-39)

When I proposed to Helen in the Philippines in early 1989, I had been doing my research. The little that I’d learned about Filipino culture taught me that if I was going to profess my love to her, and she was to accept that, that this was not a dating relationship, but rather the start of a relationship that naturally culminated in marriage. At the same time, the little that Helen had learned about American culture, mostly from a few American missionaries and American movies, was that professions of love were thrown around like water balloons, fat, gushy and easily broken. In fact, while I was calling in “being engaged” she insisted in calling it her “experiment.”

So we plotted a course forward together, because we loved each other, but I was returning to the U.S. only four months later. Because we were both trying to finish are studies, we knew that it would be a long time before we could see each other again. So we wrote to each other daily, and my heart always jumped when I saw the air-mail envelope with the Philippines stamps show up in my mail box. And we could afford to talk on the phone once a month. But that was no substitute for being together.

There were those who said this wasn’t a good idea. The mission agency had a policy against short-term workers getting in relationships. Helen had to defend her choice to those to whom she had told that her “beauty was not for foreigners.” I had to explain to my parents that I’d gotten engaged to someone I’d met overseas. We had to convince my pastor that our marriage would really be a good idea. Helen had to convince a U.S. embassy worker that her coming her was not some sort of marriage fraud.

You can imagine that Helen was somewhat perturbed when I reported to her that the one other girl who I had ever dated (Heather) called me shortly after my return and asked me if I wanted to go out. I hope you told her “No” she said later. Later, when I mentioned another girl, Angela who was a class mate in debate class and who had the extreme misfortune to be dating another guy whose name was Tim, Helen wrote me in no uncertain terms to never speak with her again.

There was this assumption (rightly so) that my relationship with Helen would preclude certain types of relationships with other women. And she was very insistent. 

Then there was this assumption that she would do likewise and one day, come to me. Because that’s what love does. Love acts as one even when separated. Love compels us to find a way to be together. Nearly two years later, she arrived on American soil and in my home church, we were married. We were no longer two separate people, we one.

God’s plan has always been that we should be with him, that his family should be united together. He has made the arrangements, he has spent everything, and he has worked out every detail. He is acting as though it is a fact.

Look at what Paul said:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

This love of God has to very practical implications:

1. We can be courageous because we are children of God. Our status is not failure. Our status is beloved of God. So many times we react out of fear. Fear of being hurt. Fear of failing. Fear of missed opportunity. No! The courageous child of God runs forward because know that the outcome is in the hands of a Father who loves them.
2. We communicate our love to God by how we help people in need. When we were apart, Helen and I were desperate for letters or phone calls or once in a long while, a special treat was a package. How we treasured those? If you are truly part of this family relationship with God, how do you communicate like that? God seems so far away. Yes, you can pray. That’s like those letters and phone calls. But do you want to send him a love gift? Jesus told us: ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’’ Helping those who are weary, hurting and helpless-is a special package that Jesus receives with joy.

There was a period during our writing back and forth to each other where I noticed that Helen had started to say, “if we get married.” And I said, “What do you mean ‘If’? You should say ‘When we get married.’” But she wasn’t sure. Too many worries, too many doubts. It was when I sent her the money for her to buy her wedding dress that she moved from ‘if’ to ‘when’

Jesus has paid. God has said, it is not ‘if we are together’ God’s love will bring us all together, it is ‘when we are together’

---

[1] www.teamhoyt.com, retrieved on March 1, 2014

[2] About Team Hoyt, teamhoyt.com, http://www.teamhoyt.com/about/index.html (accessed June 6, 2010)

[3] Men Met in the Hotel Lobbies, The Washington Post, 16 June 1901, p. 18, as cited on http://message.snopes.com/showthread.php?t=19954 retrieved on March 1, 2014

1 Thessalonians 2:8-16: Love Is The Portal

Love is the portal that truth walks through.

In his insightful article "Effective Evangelism and the Art of the Turn" by Geoff Surratt, he analyzes the way in which we go to people and pitch our ideas, expressing interest in people in order to create an opening for some product or proposal. That is the "turn". How about the gospel? He notes: "I imagine when people see through a thinly veiled Gospel sales pitch they feel as frustrated as I do when I’m turned." Why? Because they feel that the details and concerns of their lives are unimportant to us, apart from how they respond to the "truth" we want to deliver.

Paul stresses authentic love as the bedrock of his relationship with the believers in Thessalonica. He draws on the language of families to emphasize the strength and warmth. They are his "brothers and sisters" (vs. 1) Then Paul and Silas are like children (vs. 8a). Now Paul switches to another relationship: mothers and their children.

Just as a nursing mother cares for her children, so we cared for you. Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well. Surely you remember, brothers and sisters, our toil and hardship; we worked night and day in order not to be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to you. 

There was no separation between sharing of lives and sharing of the gospel. They were the same love--the same delight. Nursing mothers do not begrudge the nourishment they give. For her, sleep is optional. For her, even eating is optional. But love is not optional (cf. Romans 13:8).

But Paul does not stop there. He continues with fathers and their children.

You are witnesses, and so is God, of how holy, righteous and blameless we were among you who believed. For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.

Whereas the mothers nurture, the fathers motivate. They motivate by example ("how...we were among you") and by guiding them in the way they should live, when they are unsure ("encouraging"), when they are hurt ("comforting") and when they need a kick in the pants ("urging").

These relational terms stress the love aspect of any truth telling. We don't stop loving our actual children or siblings when they don't respond to the gospel. We love them. We help fix tires, bind up wounds, comfort broken hearts, and invite them to dinner whether or not they continually do dumb things with their lives. Oh, they'll hear about it. But our love isn't tied to them obeying us. God's wasn't, for us (cf. Titus 3:3-4).

So don't tell people that Jesus loves them unless you're ready to love them too (Steve Camp). If we try to tell people the truth without the love, you leave that truth on barren soil, unlikely to sprout and thrive. But in the context of love, the truth has ample nutrition to become "rooted and established" (cf. Ephesians 3:17-18).

Look at what happened with Paul, according to the next verse:

And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as a human word, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is indeed at work in you who believe. 

With love, the word of God was welcomed. Not just in a "Hi, how are you doing" sort of way, but in a life transforming, pattern-of-life altering manner. In a way, it is the life that we have always wanted, to be a part of those big stories where the good guys undergo fights, deprivation and all sorts of troubles but emerge better, victorious people. It is also the life that terrifies us, because it involves the trouble, hostility, alienation, discomfort and possibly worse. Paul talks about it like this:

For you, brothers and sisters, became imitators of God’s churches in Judea, which are in Christ Jesus: You suffered from your own people the same things those churches suffered from the Jews who killed the Lord Jesus and the prophets and also drove us out. They displease God and are hostile to everyone in their effort to keep us from speaking to the Gentiles so that they may be saved. In this way they always heap up their sins to the limit. The wrath of God has come upon them at last.

How do we decide to make the right choices, even when they are difficult? We can do it because there are those who have "parented" us properly, nurturing and motivating us. We can do it because there are those who have showed us, by their example, the way to handle it. We help others by doing the same for them.

It starts with authentic love. Nurturing. Motivating. That love is the portal that truth walks through (cf. Revelation 3:20)