Concerning Life as It Is Supposed to Be

Category: Christian Life Page 5 of 9

Sanctification: Fixed. I think.

A few years ago, I wrote a series of posts in which I puzzled through the question of how change might really be seen and gained in a Christian’s life. And over those years, people have asked me questions which seemed best answered by in some measure referring them to that series of posts. So, I compiled a single post with links to the others in the series, and have directed people there.

However, also, in the course of those years, I switched from posting on Blogger to posting on WordPress. And, silly me, I did not realized that in making such a transition, all the links in those posts would be broken. So, any I’ve sent to read through those have found a spaghetti nest mess.

I think I have now cleaned up the mess. I have, oh arrogant claims, fixed sanctification. Well, at least my posts on them.

For those curious what all the fuss is about, you can see the whole series here. All joking aside, I find this topic so terribly important. The thoughts expressed in these posts have been ones which have been particularly helpful to me. I offer them here in the hopes that they remain helpful to others.

Needless to say, if you find any more broken links, do let me know via the comments here.

A Teacher

A follow-up to my two previous posts. If I find the time, someday, perhaps I will comment.

The bible as a means of grace requires reflection:

Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night. (Psalm 1:1, 2)

The bible as a means of grace requires community:

And there was an Ethiopian, a eunuch, a court official of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who was in charge of all her treasure. He had come to Jerusalem to worship and was returning, seated in his chariot, and he was reading the prophet Isaiah. And the Spirit said to Philip, “Go over and join this chariot.” So Philip ran to him and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet and asked, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And he said, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to come up and sit with him. (Acts 8:27-29)

The bible as a means of grace requires integrity:

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. (James 3:1)

But I Don’t Understand What I Read

An earlier post questioned the nearly universal assumption that to be a good and growing and maturing Christian, one needs to be a regular, preferably daily, reader of the bible. Being raised in the tradition that I have, it grates against me to question that. But years of experience as a pastor causes me to wonder if indeed it is true.

I have known people who were absolutely voracious students of the bible whose theological conclusions were wide of anything that could be construed as sound, and whose profession and character were far from godliness. At the same time, I’ve known wise and godly people who were sporadic readers of the bible. My experience is anecdotal, I know, and no match for the pollsters, and yet I wonder if there is not something to it.

There is a diversity in the mix of those who do or who try to read their bibles. Among that diversity, there are those who admit that there is much in the bible they do not understand. As well, there are others who stumble over the same passages, but are afraid to confess it. I can say this because I often read without understanding. I have a seminary degree. My day job requires me to study the bible. And yet, when I’m just reading the bible, there are large sections as opaque to me as they are to others.

There is no joy, and from what I can imagine, no longterm benefit from hours spent reading something that, truth be told, makes no sense to us. The lack of bible reading is no surprise to me.

The ‘fix-it’ answer to this dilemma, of course, would be to ‘teach them how to do it’. There is some sense to that, and maybe that is the answer, depending on how we conceive of the ‘teach them’. Inevitably, bookish people that we are, we will challenge bible non-readers to first read a good book on how to read the bible. Again, not a bad idea, but it does not somehow manage to address the issue.

The issue is not volume or depth of bible reading; the issue is the pathway to the knowledge of God. We understand that the word of God is a means of grace, a pathway to knowing and communing with God. But is reading the primary means by which that word becomes a pathway to God?

Though I may be wrong, bible ‘engagement’ (Stetzer) or ‘intake’ (Whitney) in the bible is nearly always a corporate act. We are to allow the word of God richly to dwell in us “teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” (Colossians 3:16) We are to respect our “leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith.” (Hebrews 13:7) Faith, it seems, comes by hearing (Romans 10:17) the word of God, through the gathering of God’s people and through its preaching (Romans 10:14).

Perhaps our evangelical emphasis upon bible reading is itself a reflection of the literate and individualistic culture of American Christianity. Yes, indeed, faith depends upon the word of God revealed, heard, understood, and applied to the heart. I’m just not convinced that the absence of bible reading is the precise thing to be alarmed about.

Again, I am interested to know what you think.

The (Bible Reading) Sky Is Falling

LifeWay Research has recently released an alarming statistic: less than 20% of churchgoers read the bible daily.

I have two problems with this. The first is ‘statistic’ and the second is the sense of ‘alarm’. I have addressed both of these concerns before. We are drawn to the seeming irrefutability of statistics and we seem to be only motivated by the sense of alarm that those stats can raise.

I find that when I am inundated with stats and alarm that I become numb to both. Lacking the tools to evaluate the methodology of the statistic purveyors, I am inclined to mostly ignore them.

But this study raises a more critical question. I really don’t doubt the general concept the study has measured: that few Christians read their bibles on a consistently regular basis. It’s been measured before, but common experience shows it to be true. My question here is not with the reality, but with the conclusion – that this is somehow an alarming thing.

Should we see this not as a measure of a crisis but the identification of a reality, akin to the fact that 99% of people who jump in pools, and 100% of them without scuba gear, get wet? That people do not and have not and may never read their bibles should not alarm us but be accepted as a simple reality. In this case, perhaps the question should not be ‘What can we do about this?’ but rather ‘Why are we surprised or concerned about this?’

Perhaps we should be willing to say that people do not read the bible and that is, generally, an okay thing.

Ed Stetzer of LifeWay, in discussing this study, doesn’t quite seem to know what language to use in addressing his concern. The study addresses ‘bible reading’ but he speaks of ‘bible engagement’. Maybe his term, akin perhaps to Donald Whitney’s ‘bible intake’, is purposely chosen to make room in the spiritual spectrum for the illiterate. Stetzer asks the question, “…if tangible life changes are statistically related to bible engagement in the life of a disciple of Christ, why aren’t more reading and studying the bible?” A reasonable answer might be that reading and studying are not the only ways, and perhaps not the primary way, by which people receive God’s word.

Few, I suppose, would disagree that the goal of the Christian life, and of bible reading, is to know God. And few would disagree that the book through which God has revealed himself is, in fact, important to that goal. But if spiritual growth occurred for fifteen hundred years before the printing press, and if maturity still somehow happens in cultures where literacy is low, and if, in fact, people who read their bibles infrequently still come to know God with depth and devotion, is it not reasonable to ask whether we have put too much emphasis upon the ‘necessity’ of individual, private bible reading? Is it possible that we focus here because bible reading is measurable and knowledge of God is not?

I ask this as a serious question and am interested in genuine responses. Do we put too much emphasis upon the idea of individual, private bible reading?

Resilience

A guy who is 55 does well to read a book titled A Resilient Life and subtitled “You Can Move Ahead No Matter What”, especially, when the blurb at the top of the front cover from the good, but perhaps overly gracious, folks at Publishers Weekly tells me that it is “a classic, riveting read…”.

The book is by Gordon MacDonald, the author of the widely read Ordering Your Private World which was greatly helpful to me when I read it over 25 years ago. But soon after reading that book, I learned that while MacDonald was helping me address the disorder of my private world, his had fallen apart through some very serious sin. I felt betrayed by one whom I had adopted as a mentor for my life.

After a necessarily lengthy absence from the public view, while he mended his own private world, MacDonald’s public writing began to show a great deal of mercy and grace and understanding for those who struggle and fail. Such a spirit is often absent in so much writing aimed at helping Christians live a distinctly Christian life. It was with great expectation then that I picked up a book written from MacDonald’s maturity and aimed at building resilience into life.

“Resilience” is a good, healthy word, one of a couple which will enter my vocabulary with refreshed meaning after having read this book. It speaks of the ability of a life to ‘spring back’ from set backs, to persist with life, to persevere after a goal. Resilience is a necessary component to a life well lived, and as I begin to ponder (another good word) what it means to finish life well, resilience has to be a part of the discussion.Gordon MacDonald

The book, helpful to one like me who is, shall we say, closer to the end than to the beginning of life, is written in an almost Solomon-esque fashion. These are words of the wise written for the benefit of the young, and therein lies both the book’s greatest strength, and its sadly glaring danger.

The strengths are many and deep. MacDonald challenges us to build character and discipline into life which will enable us to persevere through adversity and to keep our eyes on goals greater than passing fancies. He encourages us to look to mentors, to find coaches, to develop relationships. He pushes us to nurture disciplines (though the disciplines of public worship and sacrament are noticeably downplayed if not absent altogether) and to fix our eyes on great things and worthy goals.

There is so much here that is so important for living life full of joy and ending life full of wisdom. There is so much here to adopt and to adapt for our own lives. And there is so much here that is deadly in the long run if it is divorced from the gospel. And that is my greatest concern.

Other than being better and finishing well, MacDonald gives us little motivation for abiding by his wisdom, and little or no comfort for those who fail or who are otherwise unable to live up to the standards set. One is left with the unspoken logic that when one fails, one’s failures have pushed the prospect of finishing well out of reach. It is a short trip from there to despair.

The motive for keeping the law (which anything like this is) is contained in Romans 12 and 1 John 4, and even Exodus 20. In view of God’s mercy, we offer ourselves (Romans 12). Grace comes first. We love because God first loved us (1 John 4). Grace comes first. God delivered us from bondage (Exodus 20). Grace comes first.

The gospel of God’s gracious love for us in Christ is what picks us up and encourages us to move forward. And this same gospel is what reassures us of our place and our importance and our hope when we fall down. Without a constant reminder of the gospel, law, wisdom, and challenges to discipline will all leave us either despondent or proud.

Discipline comes easy to some, and without the gospel, the disciplined person begins to take note of all that he has done, and his eyes fall off the cross and onto his stellar record book. And to those for whom discipline is a struggle, the challenge to try harder results in either rebellion or despair. And without the constant reminder of the gospel of grace all will tend to look to their performance for their happiness and security, a sad and troublesome place.

I’m not angry about the book’s lack. Just sad. I had hoped for more. This would be a wonderful book to pass on to a young Christian, but not without a deep understanding of grace. Lacking the gospel emphasis means that one reading it himself needs to be surrounded by the gospel and his heart needs to be well-seasoned by grace.

I’m really rather surprised by this lack. MacDonald is honest about his failures. He has no pride, because he understands grace so much better than I. But I finish reading the book less amazed by the grace of Jesus than I am by the grace of his wife. We could have had the latter without the absence of the former. I find that sad.

I will take away many very helpful things from this book. It would even be worth a second read. God has taught MacDonald much, and he conveys it well. I just won’t be giving the book out widely, no matter how ‘riveting’ Publishers Weekly found it to be.

The Measure of Our Knowledge of God

We may be able for a time to persuade others that our spiritual life is full of depth and glitter. And though it may be less true than we might like, we may for a time begin to believe it of ourselves. As well, our theological erudition, our political savvy, our well portioned service, all may serve to give an outward impression of true spiritual maturity, which may or may not match the inward reality. We may believe ourselves what we work hard to make others believe.

Therefore, it is always good to take this wise caution to heart:

“We must learn to measure ourselves, not by our knowledge about God, not by our gifts and responsibilities in the church, but by how we pray and what goes on in our hearts. Many of us, I suspect, have no idea how impoverished we are at this level. Let us ask the Lord to show us.”

(J. I. Packer, Knowing God, page 27)

In the Way of Grace

Often I have reflected on the relationship between our Christian duty and our growth in Christ-likeness. We would like to better reflect the character of Christ, and certainly it would seem that is God’s desire. We understand that sanctification is a work of God’s Spirit, that the fruit we reflect in our Christian growth is the fruit of the Spirit. It is not the fruit of our own works. And yet our work is involved.

Earlier in these pages, I have sought to give some hopefully helpful reflections on these matters. (Note that the links on this page are to an earlier Blogger edition of this blog.) In doing so, I suggested that one way of thinking of our involvement in the process of growth is to think of our acts of devotion or obedience as acts by which we put ourselves in the ‘way of grace’. If it is so, as we believe, that the Holy Spirit ministers grace to us in the sacraments or in prayer or in the reading and hearing of the word of God, then it makes sense for us to put ourselves in those places where these things are taking place. In my participation in worship, I am not changed as a reward for or as an effect of my obedience, but I am changed as the Spirit of God chooses to use that circumstance to change me. The work is his. It is my joy to find those ‘thin places’ between earth and heaven (a concept I think I am stealing from N. T. Wright) and to place myself there. If I never go to where God’s Spirit is known to work, then it should be no surprise to me that I am rarely the recipient of grace.

All that said, I have rarely heard others speak in this way. However, recently I found in reading Samuel Bolton’s The True Bounds of Christian Freedom, an English Puritan work published in 1645, something very similar.

“How often does a believer go to prayer with a dead heart, and rise with a lively heart! He begins with a straitened heart and rises with an enlarged heart; he begins dejected and ends comforted! How often, when he could find no such motion of God leading him to duty, has he yet met with God in the midst of the duty, and enjoyed God, in a prayer, in a glorious sweet way! … God loves to meet those that are in His way. Though the miller is unable to command the wind, yet he will spread his sails, and thus be in the way to use it, if it come.”

I take this as some positive confirmation that perhaps I’m pointing our noses down a good path previously trod.

Bounded by Grace

[Note: this is a continuing part of a series reproducing a sermon. An explanation can be found here.]

I said at the outset that my heart’s desire is that we would learn to delight in our God, and that that delight would be reflected in the way we love to live our lives. I long for the internal music of our heart to be tuned to grace so that the dance of our lives reflects the composer of the tune.

But we fail, don’t we. We trip, we fall. And the Ronstadt Effect kicks in. But those voices are not from God. Instead of ‘you’re no good’ – there is another voice you need to hear, another tune to sing:

“You’re my child, you’re my child, you’re my child…”

Even if we are broken and desperately full of sin, He who paid for our lives on the cross is not going to let us go. He is not going to walk away. He will never disinherit us.

So our sin awakens our eyes again to how much we depend on God’s grace and favor. And when our eyes are so lifted up to him, there is release.

I fail often. I fail as a parent and as a pastor and as a husband. And I grieve over those I hurt when I fail in these ways. And I lament the negative reputation that I gain thereby. And I am disappointed that my ability is so weak, and that God finds so little to work with in me.

And the only way to remedy that is to return to the gospel, to the One whom I know loves me, who makes no requirements of me for his love. The gospel needs to be the music we hear in our heart.

I was captured recently by this quote, from a book I have not read, written by men I do not know. But these words, couched in the form of a word of Jesus to his disciples, rings true, and is something of the song that needs to fuel our hearts:

“What if I tell them there are no lists?  What if I tell them I don’t keep a log of past offenses, of how little they pray, how often they’ve let me down, or made promises that they don’t keep?

“What if I tell them they are righteous, with my righteousness, right now?  What if I tell them they can stop beating themselves up?  That they can stop being so formal, stiff, and jumpy around me?

“What if I tell them I’m crazy about them?  What if I tell them, even if they run to the ends of the earth and do the most horrible, unthinkable things, that when they come back, I’d receive them with tears and a party?

“What if I tell them that if I am their Savior, they’re going to heaven no matter what—it’s a done deal?  What if I tell them they have a new nature—saints, not saved sinners who should now ‘buck-up and be better if they were any kind of Christians, after all he’s done for you!’

“What if I tell them that I actually live in them now?  That I’ve put my love, power, and nature inside of them, at their disposal?

“What if I tell them that they don’t have to put on a mask? (or hide) That it is ok to be who they are at this moment, with all their junk.

“That they don’t need to pretend about how close we are, how much they pray or don’t, how much of the Bible they read or don’t?

“What if they knew they don’t have to look over their shoulder for fear if things get too good, the other shoe’s gonna drop?

“What if they knew I will never, ever use the word punish in relation to them?  What if they knew that when they mess up, I will never ‘get back at them?’ What if they were convinced that bad circumstances aren’t my way of evening the score for taking advantage of me?

“What if they knew the basis of our friendship isn’t how little they sin, but how much they let me love them?

“What if I tell them they can hurt my heart, but that I’ll never hurt theirs?

“What if I tell them they can open their eyes when they pray and still go to heaven?

“What if I tell them there is no secret agenda, no trapdoor?

“What if I tell them it isn’t about their self-effort, but about allowing me to live my life through them?”

What if? This is what He does tell us.

What if? There is rest, there is joy, and there is a longing to obey.

Obedience and Life

[Note: this is a continuing part of a series reproducing a sermon. An explanation can be found here.]

Obedience is a part of the Christian life, but it does not define the Christian life. It is exposed by Scripture, and comprehended in community. It is motivated by love, and aimed at Christ-likeness. And finally,

IV. Obedience overcomes despair and opens the door to joy.

The passage as a whole is a transition from despair, to peace. But to mention obedience before a congregation of sensitive people is to raise the anxiety level and to breed further despair. We’ve not been successful in the past and we can’t see things changing in the near term future. So, you ask, “Why further traumatize me?”

Remember that John’s concern is life. And obedience is a path to life. Obedience is discerned from Scripture, understood in community, and as a good shepherd and father the Holy Spirit nurtures us along slowly. Obedience is choosing the right thing, the one thing, step by step, as He leads us, and by this means, He leads us in the path of life and joy.

There is life in obedience that might not always be evident from the outside.

Years ago, I was a college junior with a stack of books eighty feet tall needing to be read. So, one Sunday, after church, I sat in a dorm lobby with my girlfriend, one day to be my wife, and I read and read and read, and the more I read, the more the stress rose.

As the need for relief grew more intense, I finished a book and hurled it across the room. And that seemed a perfect time to begin to reflect on the 4th commandment – the command to keep the Sabbath.

I remembered how I had been urged by a Christian friend (notice the community involvement) to see this commandment as having been given by God for my delight. So I decided from that point on to not work – to not do my ordinary labor, my studies – on Sunday. I determined to legitimately take a sabbath no matter what the cost.

And there was no cost. From that point on my work got done, and the stress dissipated. Obedience brought life.

We would be wrong then to assume that the fruit of peace in this came from the act. The law and the desperation drove me to Jesus, and Jesus gave life. The fruit does not come from the act of obedience; the fruit comes from God. Change does not come from obedience; change comes from God.

But obedience is an integral part of the path of life into which Jesus has brought us.

Aiming to Christ-likeness

[Note: this is a continuing part of a series reproducing a sermon. An explanation can be found here.]

Obedience begins with Jesus, and it ends with him. It begins with love for him and it aims at his likeness.

B. Obedience aims at Christ-likeness.

If the moral law is really moral because it reflects the holy character of God, then conformity to the law will reflect the attributes of God, that is, the character of Jesus. Obedience ultimately is conformity to the character of God as we live out our lives in the world. The obedient Christian is one who in love to Jesus is becoming more like him.

That would be an overwhelming thought, and impossible to conceive, were not these things developed in the context of Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit who is developing these attributes within us.

Jesus in our text promises the Holy Spirit:

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth… (16, 17)

Among those many works which the Spirit will do is to develop within us qualities which reflect Jesus. Paul alludes to this in his letter to the Galatians.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22, 23)

These qualities of the Spirit’s work are really the qualities which defined Jesus. While we are struggling over what it means to obey, quietly the Spirit is building Christ-like character into us. And that is what we should covet.

I may miss exactly how to pray with my family or I may vote for the wrong person. I may dress wrongly and I may speak when I should be quiet. I will certainly stumble and fall and fail and wilt. But I have confidence that as my heart is holding on to Christ and aimed toward him, that God through his Spirit is building within me his character. The aim of obedience is Christ-likeness. And to this end the Holy Spirit is leading us.

The Southern Presbyterian theologian James Henley Thornwell was the founding president of the University of South Carolina, and founding professor of Columbia Theological Seminary. He was known for his fierce intellect with which he would devastate in argument those opposed to him. He was strict with his outward obedience, and ruthless in his public argument.

But what stood out for me as I read his biography a few years ago was that these qualities changed. To the end of his life, he maintained a strict outward obedience. But his interaction with others grew softer, his public discourse more gentle and patient. Jesus was building his heart in him. The goal of obedience was being formed in him by the Holy Spirit.

That is the goal we seek. Outward obedience is important, of course. But the goal, and that for which we long, is the inner trans-formation of our spirit which reflects Jesus to those around us.

Quoted last week on the internet was this sentence from CS Lewis:

“A man who is eating or lying with his wife or preparing to go to sleep in humility, thankfulness, and temperance, is, by Christian standards, in an infinitely higher state than one who is listening to Bach or reading Plato in a state of pride.” —C.S Lewis

It’s not much good for me if I’m keeping the Sabbath religiously, and so strict about truthfulness that I won’t even stretch the truth to make a good surprise birthday party, if I’m lacking contentment, peace, patience, and joy.

These are the things I covet.

Obedience is motivated by love aiming to Christ-likeness.

Page 5 of 9

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén