The Truth

Everybody says they want the truth.  We hold up the truth as a perfect ideal.  I know in class one of the things I cannot stand is dishonesty.  I've been very clear with my kids about this.  They have been told, in no uncertain terms, that lying to me is #1 on the list of bad things that can happen in class.  I know plenty of other people who feel the same way.  I don't know if it's human nature or a social thing or something else.  We despise anything that isn't the truth.

Well, that's what we say.  The fact in many cases is this...we despise dishonesty in other people.  Most of us don't take the time to examine ourselves or have a trusted friend help us with that.  Our first lie is that we don't need it.  We love to sniff out other people's lies, but somehow our own escape detection.  The fact is that I am incredibly dishonest with myself.  I tell myself that my devotional/prayer time is sufficient, that seeing this or saying that won't affect me, that the thing I hear in church is a good idea but not a pressing concern, and a host of other lies anytime I am made to be uncomfortable.

The end result is that this affects what I believe.  Do I really believe the things that I say I do?  There's only one way to tell.  If I don't do it, then I don't believe it.  I can't count the number of times I've witnessed this truth in my students.  It's much easier to count the number of times I've admitted it in my own life.  Jesus' condemnation of the Pharisees didn't hinge on their results.  They would appear to us today to be model Christians.  He didn't criticize the appearance of their faith.  He told them that their heart on the inside didn't match their actions and words on the outside.  He called into question their motivation.  He was just as concerned, if not more concerned, about why they were praying, fasting and tithing as he was that these thing were actually happening.  Too often we use this as a "get out of jail free" card.  Since I will be judged on the motivation behind my actions, I can tell myself and anyone who challenges me that my motives are pure and God-centered.  That's the trump card.  You can't beat that.  Nobody can accurately judge my motives.  God alone is capable of that and He will do that.  If I really believe He'll judge my motives, I need to be honest with myself about what those motives are.

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Psychotic Break?

I've been reading over some of these posts and I've come to a realization.  I think I've been hitting myself in the head long enough.  Why would anyone read what I write and walk away feeling like being a Christian is something that they want to do.  Every post seems to end with some version of "and here's why I'm terrible at being a Christian."  I think that I'm done with that.  I am, probably for the first time in my life, getting my head around what grace is and why it matters.  I'm not going to say that I can go do whatever I want and it's all good.  I'm not going to pretend that the ideas of righteousness and holiness don't really apply because God knows my heart and understands.  I've had a faith crisis of sorts over the last few months and I feel like I'm on the other side of it now.  I can say that I am tragically and fundamentally flawed, but God's grace covers that.  As long as I am reaching for the cross, it will sustain me.  Jesus didn't come to earth and carry my sins so that I could wring my hands every day wondering how it's all going to work out.  What do I have need of?  I have a Savior and he works on my behalf.  Is there something more that I need that I'm missing?

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Practically Something

Do you ever have days that feel like you're sleepwalking? I have a lot of those lately. I think I'm suffering from discontent. Strangely enough, it's not about my life. I like my life. I have a good job, wonderful family, house to live in, money to pay all of the bills. It's a charmed life, really. So what's the problem? The problem is that I have this nagging feeling that there is something more. Jesus promised this fantastic life. He didn't give me a doctrine, or a 5 step plan or a presentation. What he gave me was hope. In fact, that's what he gave everyone. Not a program to join, but a kingdom to be part of. The promise of this kingdom is that I could have a full, vibrant life.
The reality is that all too often, I act too much like Jesus came to earth to meet my needs, make sure that my wants are satisfied. The truth is that on Sunday I act like a Christian and say and do all the things I'm supposed to. Would the people around me on Monday through Saturday say the same thing about me? Too many Christians are that in name only and would be more correctly called Practical Atheists or Practical Agnostics. Shouldn't what we say and do match what we say we believe? Is heaven really the home we're headed for? Some of us believe it like we believe in fairy tales. Others of us believe it because it makes us feel secure, like an insurance policy. Still others have this sense of obligation about it. We don't really feel any heavenward pull on our lives, but we know that we're supposed to so we just commit to it and numb ourselves to the fact that there is no life in our life.
Maybe the problem is that I like my life too much. To answer Jesus' call could mean that my life become about something other than the life that I'm attempting to create for myself. I'm beginning to understand more than I ever have Paul's comlaint in Romans. I know what I'm supposed to do and I want to do it, but not all of me does. Part of me does the very thing that the rest of me doesn't want to. Can anyone save me from me?
The answer is yes. This is the essence of the Gospel. The Gospel is good news. Here's the good news. There is someone who can save me from me. Someone who calls me to a greater life than the one that I could create for myself. What will we do? Will we trust him to do what he says or will we continue to hedge our bets and "believe" the Bible, just in case

Name Brand

You can't see it, but I had this whole big piece about the election and what I think and how it related to Christians and church. You'll have to trust me that it was an impressive piece of work. Just imagine all of the best things you've read and pretend I wrote those in there. I deleted the whole thing because it degenerated into nonsense.
Having said that, I spent a lot of time after the election thinking about what I'd seen and heard. Here's the thing that kind of stuck out to me. All throughout the campaign, there was an effort by both sides to "brand" themselves and the other candidates. Countless dollars were spent to hang labels on some people and remove labels placed there by others. It's no different than detergent, cereal or aluminum foil. Companies go to great lengths to attach labels to their own and their competition's products and then they brand by getting you to associate their name with a particular label, so that we view Bounty as durable and Quaker as healthy. In this case, parties tried to brand their people as insiders, outsiders, agents of change, savvy, patriotic, etc.

The only reason I mention this is because we, as Christians, have a brand as well. Additionally, people that disagree with us have taken great effort to attach other labels. We've been accomodating enough to allow the "Christian" label to mean a variety of things, ranging from compassionate to hateful. What is the Christian brand supposed to stand for? Put another way, how could a person recognize a Christian? It's not as much as I thought. According to 1 John, the ideal of the brand is that we should be full of truth, resistant to sin and guided by love. Would we use those 3 things to describe ourselves? If not, why wouldn't we? Equally as important is whether or not those around us would use those 3 things to describe us. If those are the things a Christian should show, why isn't it evident?

Sanctified?

I'm sitting in class on Wednesday night. As you might expect, the class centered on Satanism and related themes. It wouldn't be the week of Halloween without it. As we were talking about this, someone said something that floored me. Essentially, his point was this - these people that seem to be so diametrically opposed to what we believe have to go through a sanctification process like we do. As the words are being said, my first impulse was to bristle at the choice of words because it seems wrong to say that an active Satanist would be considered sanctified. He went on to explain that these people must wake up every morning, die to themselves and make an active choice to do all the requisiste things: dress appropriately, decide how to communicate their faith clearly and then act accordingly. That should sound pretty familiar. Here's the kicker...they do a better job of "sanctifying" themselves better than we do. There is usually very little ambiguity surrounding them.
I, by comparison, appear lukewarm and pliable. How can I be convinced that I'm right about what I believe and someone whose beliefs are the polar opposite of mine appears to be easily more committed than I am? Is the truth in me? Why do I say that? Is it because it's true or because it's convenient to believe? Is my faith clear to those around me or do I just say that I'm "living out my faith" because believing that relieves me of the responsibility to act out directly what I say that I believe.

Limping Along

I was reading something some time ago, and there was one sentence in particular that jumped out at me and really stuck with me. Paraphrasing, it said "revival will never come to our lives until our Christian walk becomes Jacob's limp" That has kept coming back to my mind over and over lately. I've spent time looking at that and what that really means. The more I read the account of Jacob wrestling with the angel, the more I realized I didn't know the story.

First, it's worth noting that the entire event never happens until Jacob is alone. Before he can encounter God, he is stripped of the stuff that surrounds him.
Second, the order of events is explains what happens better than I do. The angel does the whole touch the hip thing, then insists that Jacob let him go. So even though he was beaten, Jacob was still holding on. I don't know that he was even wrestling with the angel anymore as much as just holding on to him. His goal was no longer to overpower the angel because it was a useless endeavor at this point.
Third, the new name was not his blessing. The angel tells him he will be called Israel rather than Jacob. Then it says that he blessed him. We never know what the blessing is. From our point of view, the actual blessing is kind of irrelevant. The name is just a reflection of who he has become.

In our church, our pastor has been delivering a series of sermons that center on becoming a contagious Christian. He has mentioned on several occasions that you can only be contagious with something that you are already infected with. I think that's what Jacob's limp is about. When we struggle against God and finally come to the breaking point and realize that we are ultimately powerless against him, that his will is the only one that can be accomplished, then we can let go of the struggle and receive the blessing that is in store. I don't intend struggle to mean that we are at war with God, but until we engage Him we can never truly understand that we must approach on his terms. Yes, he accepts me as I am, but the blessing comes from his hand and at his discretion. This superficial Christian life that I've been living accomplishes almost nothing. I keep God at arms length, afraid to struggle and stopping short of what he has in store. I fear the limp, but my I'm not contagious until I limp away.

Followers

Are we followers of God? Do we even want to be? I was looking at the life of Elijah and some things struck me about how willing I am to follow God.
I don't know that I necessarily have a lot of Jonah moments when God says one thing and I willfully do the complete opposite. But I have a lot of moments when I don't do the opposite but I could do better. I tell myself that it isn't defiance, after all I didn't do what I wanted. I end up like the little boy in class who was told repeatedly to sit down. After being threatened with punishment, he sits down but adds "I'm still standing on the inside". I wonder what God has in store for me and when I'm honest the answer is not too much. Not because God is unable or doesn't love me, but because I'm a petulant child who just wants my way.
Look at Elijah by comparison. James 5 points out the Elijah was just a guy like the rest of us. He didn't have some kind of head start. What he had was obedience. He shows up on the scene, makes his way to Ahab and announces it won't rain until he says so. That's his prophetic debut. Clearly, great things are in store for him. He faces down a tyrant and comes away unscathed. This guy is on his way to prophet stardom. What does God tell him to do with his newfound celebrity? Go hide in the wilderness. After that, go live with a widow and her kid. How often does God do that - send us in the opposite direction of where we thought we were headed? In hindsight, we see that God had greater things in store for Elijah than he could imagine, but God had to prepare him. The key is that Elijah obeyed with no promise of a bright future. God's instructions to Elijah made no sense from our standpoint. But if we can't obey at the beginning, we won't make it to the end.
Are we willing to follow God no matter where it takes us? Will we follow even if the path leads to obscurity? It's easy to obey when we believe there is something better at the end. Oddly enough, God does make that promise, but it's not necessarily what I'm looking for. If I'll obey, God comes closer to me. For some reason, my life crowds out the value of that transaction. As if that somehow isn't the best deal going. What could be more valuable than that? It seems so easy, but here I stand on Mt. Carmel faltering between choices.