Godliness and Power

“But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be … having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power.”

2 Timothy 3:1-5 (ESV)

In these verses, Paul writes to Timothy quite the long list of bad qualities people will have in the last days. But this last one – an appearance of godliness while denying its power – has caught my attention. And it fills me with questions.

How can you tell the difference between true godliness and a simple appearance of godliness? And how is it that true godliness is associated with power? Power for what?

Surely, God my father, you love to see godliness in my inmost parts. Thank you that you love to see you in my inmost parts. And surely I am in desperate need of that power to shape me and do good to those around me. I’m trusting you to keep shaping your goodness in me – real goodness with real power. Amen

Brought to Glory

“For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering.”  (Heb 2:10, ESV)

There are a number of dire warnings in Hebrews.  Somehow though, this almost passing remark about being brought to glory frees me to respond rightly to God.  

In this verse I am reminded that my salvation is not about managing sin, not about escaping Hell, not even about “bringing the Kingdom” and accomplishing great feats of social justice. It is, instead, about becoming glorious.

There is a part of me that longs for greatness.  But the insecure, sinful and proud part of me can’t help but compare myself to others according to some artificial, materialistic scale.  This is paralyzing, useless and wrong.

Amazingly, God too longs for my greatness.  Actually, it is more than greatness: it is glory; the glory belonging to the one by whom and for whom everything exists.  Surely that scale is more important to succeed at than any scale of materialism or influence.

And, thank you Jesus, the work of climbing that glory scale has been done for me; by your very expensive suffering.  This frees me from the worry of working towards that glory.  Instead, I can just get on with the business of exploring a glorious life.  And that, I expect, brings great pleasure to my Father.

A Crazy Father

“O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” (2 Sam 18:33)

King David cries these words when he learns that his son Absalom had died in battle.  For years Absalom had secretly won the hearts of the Israelites as he gained support for a bid for kingship.  Once that support had been gained, he declared himself king and marched on Jerusalem, forcing his father to flee.  To add insult to injury Absalom slept with his father’s concubines in a tent on the palace rooftop before marching out to hunt down David.

Fortunately the battle (and the forest) favored David’s men; Absalom and 20,000 of his rebels losing their lives.  The civil war and the shame was brought swiftly to an end.  And yet David would have traded it all that his son might live.

As a father, I think I understand.  But then again, David seems a little crazy to be that upset about a son who masterminded a rebellion and wanted him dead.

But, David was a man after God’s own heart.  The things David cared most deeply about are things closest to God’s heart.  And the intense poetic passion with which David lived and breathed kept pace with God’s own fiery character.  God would rather die himself than to have mankind live in rebellion to him.

The horror of Absalom’s rebellion brings light to the true nature of our sin.  Yet our battle with God ends very differently, with Christ himself dying in our stead and sharing with us his kingdom, inviting us into adoption.

Oh heart of mine, be ever grateful for a God with a crazy father’s heart.

“For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.”  (Romans 5:10)

Discipleship Done For Me

“If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you.  By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.”  (John 15:7,8 ESV)

The promise of the first half of this promise seems too good to be true,  like  a magic formula to unlock endless power and influence.  And yet there it is: God will do stuff for us, if we would simply ask from a place of abiding in Christ and letting his words abide in us.

Certainly it is this abiding business that tempers the things we would ask for by aligning our requests with fruitful, eternal things rather than silly distractions like fame and fortune.

Still though, too often I approach prayer backwards by asking myself, “What would be a good, Godly request that He would surely answer and therefore prove that I am a good Christ-abiding citizen of the Kingdom?”  Ha!  How manipulative I so easily lean.  No, first comes the abiding, then the asking.

The other curious, naturally religious tendency of mine is when I try to imagine good prayers that surely God would answer, they are typically external prayers: requests for someone’s health, for someone’s salvation, for the success of some ministry.

Surely there is a place to pray prayers like this.  But what God is after is His glory.  And according to this passage, His glory is simply me bearing fruit.  It seems Christ is calling me first to pray internal requests; prayers that when answered bears fruit in my life …love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control (Gal 5:22,23).  Then, as John 15:8 points out, it is this fruit that proves I’m a disciple of Christ.

It is mind bending enough to think that God will do stuff for me.  But it is a holy mystery that the evidence of my discipleship is fruit that is ‘done’ for me.  When I think discipleship, I  often think gritting teeth and will power to do the right thing.  But here it is: my responsibility is to abide; God’s responsibility is making me bear fruit.

Nice.  But practically?

This morning, while still lying in bed, I prayed prayers of determination to not waste any time today on iPhone games.  A few hours in and I failed.  But then taking time to work on my John 15 memorization, my prayer of response was hi-jacked by a divine command to simply remove the offending app from my phone.  I considered.  I wanted to keep the option and figured I could control the app usage.  But clearly, what really is there to control?  Why keep the option to be fruitless in my life?  And so, I obeyed and deleted the app.

Frankly, this is a little embarrassing to write.  But I must give credit where credit is due.  Maybe there are people out there who can will-power themselves to do the right thing.  But I can’t.  The words of Christ abiding in me brings such clarity that bearing fruit — in this case, self-control — becomes the most natural thing ever.  Naturally divine, in the same way any healthy fruit-bearing tree gives glory to a God of sweet generosity.

Lifting and Trusting

“To you, oh Lord, I lift up my soul.  Oh my God, in you I trust.”  (psalm 25:1, ESV)

Lifting and trusting; I can’t have one without the other.  David isn’t just being poetically repetitive here.

In lifting my soul to the Lord, I envision this movement of taking hold of a bright light somewhere within my chest and then raising it up above my head as an offering.  It is a dangerous exercise putting that bright light in someone else’s care.  If that bright light goes out, I go out.  But it is God, right?  I should be able to trust Him, right?

I worry about money, about the health of my family, about doing meaningful work.  And I realize it is kind of hard to trust God – hard to lift up my soul- when these other concerns dominate my thoughts and somehow lower my hands from above my head.

Yet, as much as these worries are distractions, I can also leverage them as reality checks. If I’m honest, there’s not much I can do on my own to guarantee security financially, health-wise or meaning-wise.  But even if I could, those actually would be rather foolish, short-term successes rather than seeking the success of a healthy, eternal soul.

And what do I know about pursuing a healthy soul if it is not found in any of those securities?  Not much.  Okay, it only makes sense to trust God and lift up my soul.  Now, beyond that picture of raising a bright light above my head, what exactly does it mean to lift up my soul?

Waiting’s Role

“May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you.” Psalm 25:21 (ESV)

I am struck that relying on integrity and uprightness should preserve me.  It really seems quite novel. Everyone knows it is rarely the good guys who get ahead.  This knowledge doesn’t just belong to our postmodern era; 3000 years ago, David regularly bemoaned the fact that ‘the wicked’ apparently flourished while the weak continued downtrodden.

But the other thing that makes me uncomfortable with this verse is my Evangelical Orthodoxy.  If I am saved by grace alone, how can I rely on my own integrity and uprightness to do me any good?

So on at least two counts, being preserved by my own character seems quite novel.  There is however a curious qualifier which helps shed some light on this idea: “…for I wait for you.”

This waiting can go two ways.  Either a) waiting is what activates integrity and uprightness to a potency powerful enough to preserve me.  Or b) integrity and uprightness can preserve me on their own, but I get these character traits only by waiting.

I think this hair splitting is important because Biblical waiting is a very active posture.  And it is hard to actively wait when I haven’t really thought through waiting’s role.

Very likely, this is a ‘both / and’ situation here.  I get integrity and uprightness through waiting for God.  And my integrity and uprightness are of any help only if I wait for God.  Wow, that’s a lot of waiting.  Quite humbling.  Can’t I do anything on my own?

Oh yeah, earlier in the same Psalm it says, “Good and upright is the Lord, therefore he instructs sinners in the way.  He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way.”

Uprightness starts in God.  But it is the humble, waiting posture that will surely transfer God’s own character to us.  It sure is hard to learn anything without a humble outlook.  It might be yet harder to learn something when you’re in a rush.

Lord, thank you that your character, your ways are available for me to embrace.  I want to own uprightness and integrity.  Not just any uprightness and integrity, but yours.  Grant me the patience to wait on you, to learn from you.  And then, I’ll keep waiting, trusting that the transformation you bring about in me is full of power to preserve me and bring you great glory.  In Christ, Amen.

Being with Jesus

“And he appointed twelve … so that they might be with him and he might send them out to preach and have authority to cast out demons.” (Mark 3:14)

Jesus’ appointing of the twelve apostles was an act of love in that he called them to be blessed and to be a blessing.  The shape of these gifts had three parts: being with him, preaching and authority in the spiritual realm.

It seems though that the preaching and the authority are gifts dependant on the apostles responding first to the gift of being with him.  I am reminded of Act 4:13, where the Jewish elders and scribes were shocked at the authority of Peter’s preaching but recognized that he had been with Jesus.

Certainly, making an impact in the physical and spiritual realms is a gift from Jesus for those who would be his disciples.  But these gifts become unattainable idols without first devoting time to be with him who gives the gifts.

Thank you, Jesus for this simple reminder.

But what does it mean to be with Jesus?  Certainly during his ministry on earth, there were plenty of people around.

A quick walk through Mark 3 and it is clear that Jesus is always engaging people with heart questions.  And in Mark 3:5, we see how Jesus was angered and grieved by the hardness of the hearts of the Pharisees.  They refused to engage in his simple question, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?”

Jesus, let me hear your questions.  May I listen and respond rightly.

 

Learning Fear (part 2)

“And before the LORD your God, in the place that he will choose, to make his name dwell there, you shall eat the tithe of your grain, of your wine, and of your oil, and the firstborn of your herd and flock, that you may learn to fear the LORD your God always.” (Deuteronomy 14:23)

So, fearing the Lord is something to be learned.  God, it would seem, is more interested in our heart attitudes and has given us tithing as a pathway to learn it.  A quick search of “learn to fear” reveals five Bible locations, all of them in Deuteronomy.  The other four have to do with reading the law or hearing the word of God.

So what is it with tithing?

There seems to be three physical activities described here:  a separation, a relocation and a consumption.

Tithing itself is an act of separation, a putting aside to designate some of my produce for a sacred good.  Especially when we’re talking food products, it takes a physical action to put my grain in one pile and grain dedicated to God in another.  It would not have been automatic and would require me to be intimately aware of all my possessions.

Presenting the tithe required travel.  Travel takes planning and it takes time.  In a sense, adding travel to the practice extends tithing from simply a monetary commitment, but also one of time and thought.  Travel tithes me, not just my stuff.

Eating the tithe is funny because it is something that would have been done anyway.  But somehow, consuming specially designated produce and eating it before the Lord at a specially designated location makes it a sacred act.  Doing a daily activity in an a conscientious and expensive way is worship and teaches me to fear God.

But what does this mean for me now?  At the very least, I’m thinking I ought to stop the automatic giving withdrawals, start physically writing checks and hand delivering them.  My gut reaction to this idea is that it would be a waste of time.  

But maybe that is the point.  God wants for me to enter a sacred lifestyle more than he needs my cash.

 

Learning Fear (part 1)

“And before the LORD your God, in the place that he will choose, to make his name dwell there, you shall eat the tithe of your grain, of your wine, and of your oil, and the firstborn of your herd and flock, that you may learn to fear the LORD your God always.”  (Deuteronomy 14:23)

This verse articulates something rarely discussed around the topic of ‘the fear of God’.  Usually the discussion centres on what that fear is supposed to look like: are we to be literally afraid of God?  Or are we supposed to be simply filled with awe?

But here we see that the fear of God isn’t just a concept to understand, but rather an attitude to learn through an intentional lifestyle.

By needing to learn the fear of the Lord, it becomes obvious that this is an attitude that doesn’t come naturally.  This means that it takes effort on my part to get my heart aligned right.  Focusing on concepts nor on actions are enough to lead to transformation.

In fact, I suppose that attitudes are often given second-class citizenship after concepts and actions.  But here, we see that the action of tithing is to be performed in service of getting our attitude right.

The prize then, in God’s perspective is our heart’s transformation.  Oh praise him for pursuing such profound change within us, not being satisfied with mere surface activities.  And God, may the fear of you be something I learn to my core.  May I have the faith to walk in your ways so that I may learn well.

Maturity through Speaking

“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ…”

(Eph 4:15, ESV)

The typical emphasis in this verse is on the word, ‘love’.  “When you’re going to tell someone the cold, hard facts you better tell them in love, otherwise they’re just not going to hear you.”  Sure, this is true.  But learning this verse in context, it seems that Paul is making a much more significant point.

The ‘rather’ with which this verse begins sets itself up in contrast to the concept of the previous verse: that of being children tossed to and fro by every wave.  Either we live as anchor-less children, or we grow to mature manhood (vs 12) in the likeness of Christ.  We start as vulnerable children.  Our calling is to look like Christ.  The way to grow up is to speak the truth in love.

Suddenly this “speaking the truth in love” is no longer just a strategy for making hard-headed people hear me.  Properly understood, the aim of speaking the truth in love isn’t so much to transform other people as it is to transform me.

I can see that.  Somehow the commitment of verbalizing a truth does something inside me.  The very act of speaking a truth makes me believe it more.  The more I believe a truth, the more my life lines up with it and the more I begin to look like Christ.

“We are called to be the holy temple of God,” is a truth emphasized in the first half of the book of Ephesians.  If I am to free the full potency of this fact in my life and in the lives of those around me, there is no better way than to talk about it lovingly.  Keeping this truth as a conversation topic does two things:  first it re-aligns my internal value system; secondly it leads me to think of its implications and practical ways to live it out.  Then these two transformations play off each other:  since I internally start to value this ‘holy temple calling’, I actually have the desire to start living out these implications.

There is yet another way in which speaking the truth in love grows me up to be like Christ.  It is the very act of practicing this truth and love filled speech that matures me.  The best way to be a better piano player?  Play the piano.  The best way to be a better pray-er?  Practice praying.  The best way to be like Christ in speech?  Speak like Christ.  Practice is never easy.  It is an unglamorous path filled with failed attempts.  But it really is the only way; no short-cuts to personal perfection.

So, what areas of my life need transformation?  What relationships have I that can use more Kingdom presence?  First, let me seek out the appropriate Biblical truth that longs to flourish in that life situation.  Then, let me practice speaking it lovingly and let the transformation begin with me.