The REAL You

You are not your sin; sin is no longer the truest thing about the man who has come into union with Jesus. Your heart is good. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you” (Ezek. 36:26). The Big Lie in the church today is that you are nothing more than “a sinner saved by grace.” You are a lot more than that. You are a new creation in Christ. The New Testament calls you a saint, a holy one, a son of God. In the core of your being you are a good man. Yes, there is a war within us, but it is a civil war. The battle is not between us and God; no, there is a traitor within us who wars against our true heart fighting alongside the Spirit of God in us:

A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death . . . Anyone, of course, who has not welcomed this invisible but clearly present God, the Spirit of Christ, won’t know what we’re talking about. But for you who welcome him, in whom he dwells . . . if the alive-and-present God who raised Jesus from the dead moves into your life, he’ll do the same thing in you that he did in Jesus . . . When God lives and breathes in you (and he does, as surely as he did in Jesus), you are delivered from that dead life. (Rom. 8:2, 9–11 The Message)

The real you is on the side of God against the false self. Knowing this makes all the difference in the world. The man who wants to live valiantly will lose heart quickly if he believes that his heart is nothing but sin. Why fight?

(Wild at Heart , 144–45)

I know many people might not agree with everything John Eldridge has written, but I feel like this rings very true, both as the predominating misconception in the church and also as the life-giving truth, like shackles falling off or a moment of realization, that the world is not as you thought it was—in a good way.

When you read that excerpt, what do you think? How do you react to the idea that maybe you are not sinful at your core? That your flesh, your "sin nature" has been kicked off the throne of your heart and is now an enemy within the gates, trying to deceive and tempt you, but is not you? Does that give you a sense of hope, of freedom?

The yellow flag that many Christians might raise, is to caution against being prideful or thinking we are good apart from God. But that is precisely why I think Eldridge's statements are so needed. We are so afraid of being prideful, which is sinful, that we balk at the idea of saying we are "good". Jesus Himself reserved that for God, didn't He? (context, context, context! Jesus was God! He WAS good. If Jesus wasn't good, then He wasn't God, so that's clearly not the explicit point He was making. We have to be careful with stuff like that...) However, somehow, through being born again by the Spirit of God, of being united with Jesus in His death, resurrection and ascension, we are not the same as we were before. We are not unchanged. Being a Christian means precisely, in some intangible way, that the Spirit of the Living God has made its residence in us, and we are one with Him (not in a pantheistic way, in which we ARE God—we are no longer separated from communing with God because of our sin). So, it is not to say, Christ saved us from our sin, and now, on our own, we are good and are capable of earning entrance to heaven or anything like that. I think we need to process that they go together... If we truly believe that we have become a new creation in Christ, that the old has passed away, that we have been crucified with Christ and He now lives in us and through us, that the Living God has taken up residence in our hearts, our inner being, then in that union, if that has happened and cannot be arbitrarily turned on and off, then who we are has fundamentally and irreversibly changed. We are now beloved and adopted sons and daughters of God, capable of walking in unity with the Spirit of our Loving Father.

The biggest area that seems to be affected by this line of thinking is in the area of my thoughts. If I still believe, contrary to so much of what the New Testament clearly teaches about what happens in the conversion process of salvation and redemption, that I am sinful at my core, then suddenly the thoughts I have and the feelings I have are untrustworthy. I have no way of discerning internally what is from God, from me or the devil. It creates a never-ending self-contempt that keeps me in a prison of second-guessing every decision, every thought. Because even if I think a decision is good or wise, in that framework, I am deceitful and wicked and can't trust my own motivations. How can we live that way? How can we live by the Spirit or find the kind of life-giving freedom that brings hope, faith and love, if we believe our sinful core is so incapable of being good? The only way that could happen would be for God to absolutely override our actions and decisions, like He was controlling a puppet or robot, not a living human who He created with the freedom and capacity to love Him in return in the first place.

I think a lot of my experience in church growing up had this wrong, unfortunately. What are your thoughts, blog readers? Is there merit in clinging to a concept of inner depravity, even after becoming a Christian? Is there deep dangers in letting go of that idea?

God With Us

Tonight I went with my parents to their church's Christmas Eve service, which was beautiful. My mom played in the handbell choir and the music was angelic, really. The responsive readings were entrenched with the gospel message, of the true meaning of Christmas, of how God became man to dwell among us and save us from our sin. The songs—classic carols and other sacred choral arrangements—were played and sung with a sacred reverence, filling the dimly, candle-lit room. Everything was very well done. The Dramatic Contemplation (read "skit") was thought-provoking and humorous, a perfect segue into the pastor's Christmas sermon. It really was a nice Christmas Eve service.

I understand that different people have different tastes and preferences, when it comes to forms of worship and church services. Some prefer traditional liturgies while others prefer upbeat and modern expressions. As the Christmas Eve service was ending, though, I was less concerned about the mode of Christmas worship, and more fixated with wondering if, in the midst of all the beautiful tradition and call to celebrate Christmas for the right reasons, people were missing it. I'm not saying that in an accusatory way. I just wonder if the people attending the Christmas Eve service knew and believed that God likes them. That they are special to Him. And that that's why Christ came. Immanuel. God with us. God with us, because we are special to Him. It's easy to say God came to save us from our sin and the eternal consequences of that. That's true. But when we stop there, and only articulate our sinfulness and God's salvation, it can tend to leave us with a guilt-ridden obligation to feel thankful. It can make the "message of Christmas" one of guilt and shame and re-doubling our efforts to be more thankful and to sin less. This really isn't intended to point fingers or anything. I'm just becoming increasingly aware that in the midst of the way we communicate the gospel, we sometimes fail to articulate as faithfully as we do our sinfulness and God's great mercy, the deep love that God has for us, that motivated Him to set His redemption plan in motion in the Incarnation of His Son that Christmas morning two thousand years ago (or so) in the first place.

Jesus came to save us from our sin. Not because that's His job. Not because God is love and therefore had to save us even though He'd rather not. It was His deep enjoyment of us that motivated Him. The Father doting on His beloved children, to give them the best and make a way for them to be with Him, to enjoy His love unhindered forever. The Incarnation shows us that God wants to be with us, so He came to us, when our sin had kept us from Him. He loved us first, He initiated.

And so, to bring this back around, I just wonder and hope that, in the midst of the very beautifully performed and orchestrated Christmas Eve service, everyone there understands the deep reality behind this time of year. That the Christmas songs aren't just words, aren't just traditions for the month of December. That "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" is not just some secret code-phrase for the those of us not sucked into our culture's commercialization of the holiday.

May we pause tomorrow and remember that God is with us. May we take some time in the midst of the present-opening, carol-singing and family-visiting to consider with renewed focus what it really means that Jesus put on humanity to be with us. May we know deeply why He did it.

He did it because He loves us. God loves us. God loves me... God loves you. You are special to Him and He likes who you are. You bring a smile to His face.

May that thought make your Christmas very merry this year.

A Better World For Nothing

(from USA Today)

I have been reading "Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, Resurrection and the Mission of the Church" by theologian N.T. Wright. This cartoon illustrates a prevailing mindset in most evangelical Christians. I'm not commenting, yet, on the rightness or wrongness of this, simply noting, as Wright's book and this cartoon imply, that we as Christians are acutely affected in the way we live this life by our view of what comes in the after-life.

If we think we just go to heaven when we die, and eventually God will destroy this world with fire and start over, then it makes complete sense as to why evangelical Christians typically don't really get very passionate about environmental issues, social change or alleviating suffering with long-term solutions. I'm generalizing, I know—there are many evangelical Christians who do care about these things.

My point is that I'm wondering if, somewhere along the way, we Christians have begun to think incorrectly about heaven and the "end-times", causing us to ignore or throw aside parts of what it means to follow Jesus, in a way that drastically reduces the relevance and hope of the gospel and the significance behind what Jesus' resurrection really means for Christians.

I haven't finished the book, and so I haven't reached a point of digesting all that Wright is proposing in his book, but he definitely raises compelling questions that deserve to be asked and wrestled with, especially if we view this world as irrelevant and passing away. We need to have open eyes and ears to consider that maybe these questions are valid. Maybe we need to do some self-assessment as to why we believe the things we believe. Because if we can't articulate what might be motivating our beliefs, our apparent lack of concern, in the world's eyes, about climate issues, social justice and the like, we are going to get caught looking very selfish, uncaring and unconcerned about the needs of the people around us. And if they don't believe that we care about their needs, they won't care at all what we say when we try to tell them about what we believe.

I'm not saying we need to blindly jump on the band-wagon of climate issues or any other global cause. That would be equally counter-productive and intellectually irresponsible as well. We just need to question why we are doing things the way we are doing them, and make sure we can articulate well, without hostility compensating for poor logic, why we believe what we believe and have the humility to change the way we live in the face of inconsistent or false ideas that might be motivating our decisions.

Hope and Desire

Desire fulfilled seems to be more pleasurable than a disappointment avoided.

Disappointment experienced seems to be more painful than the lack of desire.

Pain and pleasure, I've heard, are two sides to the same coin. They are the positive and negative expression of sensation, of feeling.

As I've been sorting through a lot of things lately, I'm discovered that, for whatever reason, I've developed the habit of viewing life through the same lens as Vince Vaughn's character, Peter La Fleur, did at the beginning of the movie Dodgeball. He said,

"I found that if you have a goal, that you might not reach it. But if you don't have one, then you are never disappointed. And I gotta tell ya... it feels phenomenal."

It's a humorous spot in the movie, some of us relating to that mindset. But the reality of living that way is that it doesn't feel phenomenal. It doesn't cause much feeling at all. We resort to that way of thinking specifically so we don't feel, because like I referred to before, pain and pleasure are just two sides to the same coin. We can't avoid pain without cutting ourselves off from pleasure.

Some would argue that a lot of people use pleasure to numb pain. To some degree, that appears to work on the surface of things, and many people function in that mode, but that's just it. They are merely functioning. There's a wholeness that is involved in finding healthy pleasure in things. They might be masking pain, with the use of something that appears pleasurable, but it isn't an open-eyed pleasure. The instant-gratification employed to ease the current pain looks like pleasure wins out, but the reality of the situation as a whole is that most "pleasurable" behaviors that people resort to in order to numb pain tend to cause more pain to themselves and others down the road, as most of those lesser, immediate pleasures lead to addictions...

So, despite that argument, it still seems clear to me that, when we avoid pain, we intrinsically limit our ability to experience deep, lasting pleasure. And, I have unknowingly allowed myself to operate in this way. Whether it was not trying out for the baseball team in college, for fear of wanting to be on the team but potentially finding out I wasn't good enough, or not speaking up when friends ask where we should go for dinner, a deadly numbness has crept into my heart, attempting to insulate myself from disappointment.

So, acknowledging this is the first step to recovery, I suppose.

I'm not sure how to go about changing. I'd imagine starting small would be helpful. Speaking up when I want to eat somewhere in particular, and then, letting myself feel the disappointment involved if I get out-voted. Or even bigger, pursuing something that will bring me joy and fulfillment, and being willing to work to get there, risking some hard work and potential setbacks and even failure, in the hopes that I will eventually get to experience that joy and fulfillment, etc.

I think our capacity for joy is proportionate to the amount of desire or hope that goes into it. If we are constantly shielding ourselves from disappointment, cynical that the worst will happen anyway, when good things do happen, we are merely slightly surprised and marginally thankful, before slipping into our next bout of cynicism that it will probably be taken away, so don't hope to enjoy it for too long, etc. I think this is a destructive way to live.

And while I don't think it has a death-grip on my personality, I do see that I have not let my heart really experience desire and hope and longing in a long time. I haven't been excited about many things... and it's time for that to change.

I'm not exactly sure how to go about re-orienting the way my heart reacts to desires and what not, but seeing these things is a start.

Heaven Without You

"I was recently asked by a non-Christian friend if I thought he was going to hell. I said, 'I hope not. It will be hard to enjoy heaven without you.'"
—Shane Claiborne

I just finished reading this article by Shane Claiborne on Esquire and this quote stopped me in my tracks. I actually sensed love in Shane's response, rather than simply a theologically accurate answer to the friend's question or articulation of a formula to convert the friend from one eternal destination to another.

As I continually sort through the good and bad of what Christianity has become, clinging to what is good, and abhorring what is evil, things like this stand out. Do those around us, who may not understand the good news that Jesus is, feel loved by us? Speaking truth is obviously necessary, but what good is truth if we are blind to the blatant hypocrisy in what we're saying? Loving someone does not equal telling them about Jesus in some pre-packaged way. Loving people is unique. It takes effort, sacrifice. It takes time out of our busy schedules. It takes interruptions. It takes some soul-searching and good listening, to understand people better and know where their hearts are, what their needs are. I think that creates the fertile soil to speak truth into. But if we haven't gained the capacity to genuinely love and care for the people around us, without the agenda of trying to "steer the conversation towards the Lord", our words about God will fall flat in the face of our lack of sincere concern. People know when they are being loved. People know when they are being pitched to. The gospel is not a pitch. The gospel is supposed to be a radical revolution of selfless love, rooted in a deep experience of the love of God in Jesus Christ, that pours itself out in an upside way, disrupting the kingdom of this world, the constant in-break of heaven's kingdom into the earth's.

May we who profess to be Christians be more focused on genuinely loving our neighbor with no strings attached than converting them... Let's let love define us, not causes or agendas or political platforms...

Life Goals

"Most people live life as though they were trying to arrive at death as safely as possible."

—Francis Chan

This really captures the tension I feel, between well-intentioned people constantly cautioning against risk and wishing me safety and the general discontented feeling always running beneath my surface, like an underground stream eroding away the soil under the structure of the status quo.

As I sort through who I am and what I want, it's really hard to come out from underneath people's expectations for my life, without throwing the baby out with the bath water. Where is true wisdom? Who do we listen to? The church? The culture around us? Our parents? Our pastors? Our friends? Books?

The world seems to have a complete system of how to arrive safely at death. The mindset seems to be to insulate yourself from as much pain or suffering as possible, have contingency plans in place for the adversity you can't control or avoid, and try to survive through life the best you can without rocking the boat or risking too much.

There's a balance, for sure, between responsibilities and risk. I'm not sure how to find it, and I know that I am currently in a season of life without a lot of personal responsibilities (no wife, no children, no mortgage, etc.), but I live without any even calculated risks or adventure. I could understand that if certain responsibilities meant sacrificing that freedom and spontaneity. But without those current responsibilities, I'm constantly at a loss for why my life seems so planned and scheduled, and that discontentment eats at me.

Is that the point of life? Just getting to the end? Just making it safely to death at an old age?

Something about that just doesn't sit well with me at all. I can't put my finger on it...

Drinking Alcohol

This is the reply I sent back to the person whose confrontation prompted my previous post. I had to clean it up a bit for this post:

...I wanted to let you know that I've thought, studied and prayed about the drinking issue a lot over the years. I don't believe drinking is wrong. The Bible is VERY clear that being drunk is sinful, but it is also equally clear that A) drinking is not wrong at all in and of itself, B) as Christians, we are to be very sensitive and obedient to the Holy Spirit's prompting and convictions, and C) we are also to strive to live in freedom in Christ through walking by that same Spirit (Paul had a lot to say to the Galatians on this, esp. Gal. 5:1). So from that, because I do not believe that the Bible at all condemns drinking (except when, in excess, it becomes drunkenness), I also don't believe this in anyway damages my testimony for Christ. Having a drink, in my understanding, is no different from having a cup of coffee, a Twinkie, a piece of birthday cake or 12 oz. filet mignon—all of those things in excess would become sinful, showing a greater love for that thing than Christ, or showing an unhealthy reliance on that thing more than Christ.

I'm not at all trying to argue or seem rebellious or anything like that. I just wanted to convey that it IS deeply important to me what people think about God and Jesus based on how I live. And since I don't believe it is scriptural to say drinking is sinful, I also don't want to add that to the gospel. There's a VERY clear difference between having a drink socially and getting drunk (and the myriad of reasons people do that), and people know that! The only people, in my experience, who have been offended by drinking has been Christians. I've had several conversations about Jesus and what it means to be saved by grace through faith with friends who are not saved while having a beer with dinner, etc. I'm far from perfect, but I think everyone who knows me and knows that I am a follower of Christ and trying to walk with God, knows my heart and knows I don't encourage getting drunk or being dependent on alcohol, and that I drink responsibly [again, I've failed in this area before]. But since I also strongly believe it is not a sin to drink alcohol, I don't want to give the impression that to be a Christian means you aren't allowed to drink. Bottom-line, that's legalism. I grew up in a very mean-spirited, legalistic church and God rescued me from that and continues to break my heart with compassion for people whose understanding of God is so distorted by man-made rules and traditions that they want nothing to do with the love of Jesus... So, all that to say, I think, study and pray really hard about what is essential for what it means to follow Jesus and what God is really like, and THOSE are the things that I want to communicate very clearly. If someone, who wasn't a Christian, came up to me and said, "Hey, I thought you were a Christian, and I saw you drinking. I thought Christians aren't allowed to drink?" What an opportunity! "Yes, I am a Christian. And actually, the Bible doesn't say it's wrong to drink at all, it just says that it's wrong to get drunk, because we lose control of ourselves and lose our ability to walk with God by His Spirit that lives inside of those who have placed their faith in Jesus Christ..." That would spark such an open, honest conversation about God, Christianity and what the gospel really is, the Bible, etc.

This has gotten long. It's just because it's important to me that you know I don't take this lightly. I'm not trying to quench the Spirit or dodge my conscience. The Bible is very clear that we are supposed to live with a clear conscience before God and men. To have integrity and listen to the voice of God's Spirit working within us.

The issue of being a "stumbling block" is very important to me. That's something I'm still studying and praying about. This message would get very much longer if I went into my thoughts, understandings and questions about what that means, who our "weaker brothers" are, whose consciences are we supposed to abide by, etc. I'm still sorting that through... and I've found that honesty, gentleness, patience, etc. can go along way. If I had a new Christian friend who struggles with partying or getting drunk, I would be very hesitant to flippantly drink in front of them, but I would also be involved in their life and would be walking with them, encouraging them to stop the destructive, counter-productive behaviors that are keeping them from growing in Christ, with the goal that eventually, unless God gives them a firm conviction against drinking at all like my dad seemed to have for over 10 years after becoming a Christian, I would hope that they would grow in their love for God, that freedom and love, through walking by the Spirit would allow them to see that drinking isn't wrong. The goal of discipleship should not be more and more rules and stricter obedience of the will, but of life-giving freedom in the Spirit, where we can say with Paul, "All things ARE lawful for me, but not everything is beneficial", etc. Paul would eat meat offered to idols or not, depending on who he was with. Is that hypocritical? Or is that wisdom? I'm not sure... But Paul taught the churches this very thing: all things ARE lawful! So if they are lawful, it is immaturity and ignorance that says things are unlawful—and while that might be acceptable and understandable for someone who is new in their faith in Christ, that is not the goal! God wants us to grow in our relationship with Him, so we understand the freedom that exists in loving Christ and so that nothing—not alcohol, not food, not shopping, not caffeine, not exercise, not the praise of men—competes for our love for Christ, and yet can be enjoyed and appreciated as good gifts from a loving God. When we are mature in our faith, we should be able to enjoy these gifts, without being controlled by them, with the freedom to lay them down if it is causing a brother or sister, with a weaker, more sensitive conscience about that issue, to sin. But like I said, I am still learning and praying and studying to understand what it means to avoid being a stumbling block, because that's clearly something Jesus warned against.

What do you think? Was it too wishy-washy? Was any of it under-handed or passive aggressive? I hope not. I don't want to run from confrontation/conflict since that has been a weakness of mine over the years, so speaking what I think is true, in a loving way, in response was necessary for me to do.

When You Get "Confronted"...

How do you respond?

Have you ever had someone tell you that they felt obligated to confront you about something you had done? They call upon your ties as a fellow Christian. They appeal to the sake of your testimony for Christ. They express concern over possible missed "witnessing opportunities"... I'm sure all these are done with good (I hope), though misguided, intentions...

What is the appropriate response for a Christian who is confronted by another Christian concerned about a behavior the latter believes is wrong?

My initial reaction, because, yes, this just happened to me, is indignation. Something like passion rises up in me and I want to put the person in their place. I want to lambaste them for their judgmental heart, for the hypocritical application of personal holiness and for their incorrect assumptions and interpretations of scripture. I want to quote Jesus to them, with a venomous "Woe to you, Pharisees and teachers of religious law!"

Somehow, I'm checked by love's higher calling, doubting my own motives, wary of my own arrogance, and I opt for not responding right away. Truth may need to be spoken, but the medium is as important as the message.

The issue was that I was in a picture on Facebook with a beer stein in my hand, celebrating someone's birthday in a pub.

So, as a Christ follower, what do I do when I completely disagree with another Christian's interpretation and application of scripture? What is the loving thing to do?

Drinking alcohol is not wrong according to the Bible. To say that it is, is un-biblical and adds to the gospel something that isn't there. That's dangerous ground. Paul had some strong words for those who were doing that to the Galatians, in chapter 3 of that book, and also, in chapter 5, where he said:

"For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."

Some people were trying to persuade the new Galatian believers that they needed to adhere to these particular Jewish laws in order to follow Jesus, to be Christians, to be part of the holy group, as it were. Paul vehemently spoke against this anti-grace mindset. He didn't give them license to do whatever they wanted, but admonished them to live by the Spirit of Christ in love, and don't let anyone force them to abide by a particular set of rules to measure spirituality by.

In our present context, we see this a lot. I saw it a lot in the Baptist church I grew up in. Christianity was defined, and still is in some cases, by external behaviors. A good Christian doesn't swear, drink, smoke, dance, listen to rock music, go to bars or clubs, watch R-rated movies, etc. This is actually directly counter-productive and antithetical to the argument against drinking that was used against me, claiming that drinking could "damage my testimony for Christ". Perhaps it damages the testimony of Christ and salvation by grace more when we make up rules that are not scriptural, enforce them without grace or mercy and cause division among believers (something the Bible says God hates)?

Even as I type this, I have to take a step back. I get pretty worked up over things like this. I don't mind so much that someone approached me and confronted me. There's an element of that that is motivated by love and concern, that speaks up when someone is doing something that is perceived to be harmful. That's a good thing. I do mind, however, that the nature of the confrontation is rooted in a completely un-biblical and illogical application of scripture, that simply upholds a particular tradition's rule.

As Christians, we are called to walk with a clear conscience before God and men. If we feel or know something to be wrong, we are responsible not to do it (and vice-versus for things that are right). We are told not to let anyone force us into bondage, instead, to pursue lives of freedom through walking by the Spirit of God. When we see someone blatantly sinning, we are first required to examine our own lives, to gain perspective and acknowledge our own sinfulness, hypocrisy and general disqualification in casting the first stone.

I could go on... I already have! This feels like a long post. I want to be grace-filled, to the hurting and to the arrogant. I want to show love to the guilty and the accusers. That's what I believe being a follower of Jesus Christ means. Jesus himself said, "They will know that you are My disciples by the way that you love each other".

He did not say, "They will know you are My disciples by how many rules you can come up with and faithfully adhere to."

I'm still not sure how to respond to the message I got. Is there value in trying to articulate to that person some of what I've typed here? Is there value in confronting their incorrect interpretation of scripture which has made a law out of something that the Bible in no way prohibits? If yes to either of those, how do I do that gently with love? Is it better to ignore it? Is this a situation of casting pearls before swine, not wasting words or energy on someone who is stuck in their ways? Are we stuck in our ways? Is there always hope for redemption and repentance? Should we always operate out of the faith and hope that people can and do change for the better?

I hope so.

You may have noticed, in reference to drinking, I didn't address the "stumbling block" issue, which needs another post all its own.