Archive: June, 2011

Jun
21
2011

It is clear that we can have faith in God, but then miss the point entirely. Think about it this way: at one point in the gospels, Jesus speaks some really daunt­ing and ear-catching words. He said that there will come a day when stand­ing before him at the judg­ment there will be those who will say that they did this and that in his name. They will tell him they’ve cast out a bunch of demons, healed a bunch of peo­ple, led mul­ti­tudes to him­self, even were pastors—basically did all these great works for God. They’ll be exclaim­ing, look at what I did Jesus, aren’t you proud of me! How­ever, he will sim­ply will come back and state, I never knew you. (Matthew 7:21–23) Whoah! Once again, it’s Jesus turn­ing things on its head—addressing some­thing from a dif­fer­ent angle. What we think is true, may not nec­es­sar­ily be the case. With this story, we see that there will be a lot of peo­ple who are doing these great “works” for God, but in the end, these folks will turn out to be essen­tially frauds. Jesus pin­points where they lack—they lacked a rela­tion­ship with Him. He sim­ply says this: I never knew you. That verse is intim­i­dat­ing and thought-provoking, because it lets me know that it might not be nec­es­sar­ily impor­tant that I know Jesus, but most impor­tantly that he knows me.

But with that above verse, does Jesus know me, what does that mean on a day-to-day basis. Today, churches empha­size that we need to “know Jesus,” but how does it work for him to know us? First, think about this in terms of rela­tion­ships. With rela­tion­ships, one can stay on the periph­ery or you can enter into the expe­ri­ence of the friend­ship. You can know only the facts about some­one and yet miss the essen­tials of the per­son. You can allow your­self to enter into the rela­tion­ship or be held back. Think of it this way—I can know a whole lot about a per­son, but not really know the per­son at all.

I will give you an exam­ple of some­one I know; I’ve known him for about three years. I know that he dri­ves a Ford Fusion, has dark hair, likes to eat Mex­i­can food at least once a week, has been mar­ried for twelve years, has a kid who is in first grade, roots for the Michi­gan State Spar­tans dur­ing March Mad­ness, works in the account­ing field. This is the first level of know­ing some­one. You get the facts. At a deeper level, I don’t know much more about him, even though I have known him for nearly three years. For exam­ple, in terms of Know­ing this per­son: I think he is a good father, I think he has a decent mar­riage; and I think he is a Chris­t­ian. The prob­lem is—this is how close we have become, or bet­ter yet, how close, he has become to me. I really don’t know him at all. For the most part he has only given me so much, and that has not been much at all. For all intents and pur­poses, even though I see him on a fairly con­sis­tent basis, we are acquain­tances and not friends. On the flip side, I have opened up to him a lit­tle bit about myself. I have shared beyond the facts and shared with him some of my more per­sonal stuff in an attempt to deepen our friend­ship. To put it sim­ply, He knows me; but I don’t know him. I think this is what Jesus is try­ing to get at with that pas­sage. We can know a lot about him, but not really know him. We can engage reg­u­larly with him (i.e., go to church every Sun­day or read our Bible daily), but never vul­ner­a­bly open up our life to him. I think what Jesus was get­ting at in this pas­sage is that folks like these hold back a sub­stan­tial part of them­selves from God.

Here are some ques­tions you may have to ask your­self. Ask your­self: are you sim­ply acquainted with Jesus or do you gen­uinely know him? Are you sim­ply fol­low­ing some of the rudi­men­tary rules of being a Chris­t­ian or are you actu­ally engag­ing the liv­ing God? As the exam­ple I used above, do you just know a lot of stuff about God, but really don’t know him very much at all? If this is the case, mov­ing beyond just know­ing Jesus, how can you let him know you? How can you bet­ter open up your life to him?

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In: Spiritual Formation
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Jun
17
2011

Many years ago, a book I least expected made a dra­matic impact on my life. Bob George’s book Clas­sic Chris­tian­ity, while seem­ingly sim­ple in con­cept, offered me some truths which I finally “inter­nal­ized” and made my own when I was in my late twen­ties. When I read it for the first time, in read­ing the quo­ta­tion below–that final line is what caught my atten­tion and began to change who I thought I was and who I thought God was.

But at no time is His accep­tance of me ever in question.

This under­stand­ing even­tu­ally had a tremen­dous impact on my life and to this day, I come back to these words to remem­ber who I am and who God is. Here is the full excerpt:

“If you are a true Chris­t­ian, then you are as right­eous and accept­able in the sight of God as Jesus Christ.”

What’s your reac­tion? If you are shocked…, then it may be that you just don’t know who you are in Christ. It may be that you know a great deal of doc­trine, but your daily Chris­t­ian life is still more a bur­den than a bless­ing. You may have tried and tried to change your life with­out suc­cess, in spite of all the sem­i­nars, books, and tapes you have searched. What­ever your sit­u­a­tion, I have great news to share with you.

Most Chris­tians, I find, under­stand the gen­eral idea behind for­give­ness: God took our sins and gave them to Jesus. But that’s only half the mes­sage. God also took Christ’s per­fect right­eous­ness and gave it to us! Sec­ond Corinthi­ans 5:21 says, “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the right­eous­ness of God.” How could I stand up and declare that in the sight of God I am as right­eous and accept­able as Jesus Christ? Because of what I do? No way. It’s because of who I am in Christ.

The Bible goes to great lengths to declare that right­eous­ness is a free gift that a man receives by faith.

For if, by the tres­pass of the one man (Adam), death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abun­dant pro­vi­sion of grace and of the gift of right­eous­ness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.” (Romans 5:17)

Right­eous­ness (a right stand­ing of total accept­abil­ity before God) is a gift. You don’t work for it. You don’t earn it. You don’t deserve it. Like any gift, all you can do is accept it or reject it. And once you have it, it’s yours.

Gala­tians 3:27 says, “For all of you who were bap­tized into Christ have clothed your­selves with Christ. Because we are in Him we are totally accept­able to God!

Now real­ize that I am talk­ing about our­selves being accept­able to God, not nec­es­sar­ily our actions. In my iden­tity I am eter­nally accept­able to Him, but that doesn’t mean that every­thing I do is all right. He may put His arm around me, so to speak, and show me the truth about some­thing in my life that is out of line: an atti­tude, action, or habit. Why? So He can change my atti­tude that is out of line, result­ing in a change of action. But at no time is His accep­tance of me ever in question.

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In: Christian Faith
Tags: , , ,
Jun
08
2011

Alto­gether, I think we ought to read only books that bite and sting us. If the book we are read­ing doesn’t shake us awake like a blow to the skull, why bother read­ing it in the first place? So that it can make us happy, as you put it? We’d be just as happy if we had no books at all; books that make us happy we could, in a pinch, also write ourselves.

What we need are books that hit us like a most painful mis­for­tune, like the death of some­one we loved more than we love our­selves, that make use feel as though we had been ban­ished to the woods, far from any human pres­ence. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. Franz Kafka

I read this Franz Kafka quote below recently and it got me think­ing. While I don’t fully agree with what he is say­ing, I think there is an ele­ment of truth in that it is impor­tant that we read books that truly chal­lenge and inspire us at the core of our beings. Too many books (or movies or tele­vi­sion) being released today are most likely not worth our time and effort. In some cases, it would prob­a­bly be bet­ter if we would look in the sec­tion of the book­store where they keep all the clas­sics. To para­phrase a Greek proverb, there are many good books, but very few great ones. Kafka seems to sug­gest that we should only take time to read the great ones–the ones that sting us.

What books have bit­ten and stung you? As I read that descrip­tion that Kafka wrote, few books have stung me and gen­uinely cap­tured my imag­i­na­tion and changed me. Below I have listed a hand­ful of books which have deeply impacted my life.

  • The Bible (espe­cially these books: Gen­e­sis, I and II Kings, Proverbs, Song of Songs, Isa­iah, Ezekiel, John, Eph­esians, Colos­sians, and Revelation)
  • The Book of the Dun Cow, Rag­man and Other Cries of Faith and The Minia­ture Cathe­dral, Wal­ter Wangerin
  • I Loved a Girl and I Mar­ried You, Wal­ter Trobisch
  • Bod­ies in Motion and at Rest: On Metaphor and Mor­tal­ity, Thomas Lynch
  • Franny and Zooey, J.D. Salinger
  • The Sun­day of Life, Ray­mond Queneau
  • If on a Winter’s Night a Trav­eller, Italo Calvino
  • Peo­ple of the Lie, F. Scott Peck
  • On Being Blue, William H. Gass
  • God at War and Satan and the Prob­lem of Evil, Greg Boyd
  • The poetry of W.S. Mer­win, Anne Sex­ton, T.S. Eliot, Pablo Neruda and E.E. Cummings
  • Life: a User’s Man­ual, Georg Perec
  • The Pur­suit of God: The Human Thirst for the Divine, A.W. Tozer
  • This Side of Par­adise, F. Scott Fitzgerald
  • Mere Chris­tian­ity, The Great Divorce, The Screw­tape Let­ters and A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis

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In: Spiritual Formation
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Jun
02
2011

One of the more inter­est­ing ways in which a friend of mine began his life as a Chris­t­ian was through an excep­tional dream.

Back when I was in col­lege, I met Shun­yuan; he was from Tai­wan and was in his res­i­dency to become a physi­cian at the Uni­ver­sity of Illi­nois in Chicago. Shun­yuan began attend­ing our lit­tle Bible study that we held into the wee hours of a Fri­day night—just a cou­ple of 20-some-year-old guys who were hang­ing out and talk­ing about the Bible as it per­tained to our mot­ley lives. Shun­yuan had grown up Bud­dhist and I wasn’t ever quite sure why he would show up every time we met. His beliefs were dif­fer­ent than ours and he let us know that, and yet each Fri­day he would show up and be ready to share his own thoughts, often ask­ing us really good ques­tions on why we fol­lowed this per­son of Jesus. Even though he had grown up reli­gious, at the heart of it, he was an athe­ist. He really did not believe any­thing. That was okay for us; we needed some­one to add some fla­vor to our group and to chal­lenge our own thoughts and ideas, and he would often have some good stuff for us to think about.

How­ever, this unbe­lief part all changed one day. One morn­ing he woke up out of a beau­ti­ful and ter­ri­ble sleep, and his life was entirely altered. Shun­yuan had a dream one fall night that dra­mat­i­cally changed him and altered his life.

He recounted a cou­ple of days later to us, that in this dream he was swim­ming in the ocean with his daugh­ter who was about six at the time. His daugh­ter meant every­thing to Shun­yuan. A few dif­fer­ent times, when we would openly share about our lives, he would tell us that he would not know what to do if some­thing ever hap­pened to her. His daugh­ter was the cen­ter of his life.

In this dream, his daugh­ter and him are swim­ming in the ocean, and out of nowhere, a shark attacks his daugh­ter, tear­ing off her right arm. Shun­yuan pulls her ashore and as he sees the blood pour­ing out, as a doc­tor he knows that if he does not tend to her quickly, she will bleed to death. He sees how dire the sit­u­a­tion is and he grows pale because there is no way to stop the bleed­ing. The love of his life is going to die and he begins to cry pro­fusely into the sand.

As he looks up, he sees a man walk­ing toward them. A strange thing hap­pens: imme­di­ately, he rec­og­nizes that this per­son is Jesus and as he fixes his eyes on him, Shun­yuan real­izes that Jesus knows his true heart—that Shun­yuan believe in who Jesus is and does not want to have any­thing to do with him, even to the point of reject­ing him. Again, because of this, he grows hope­less because he believes that Jesus will not heal his daugh­ter, which now he believes and knows that he can do. He envi­sions that Jesus will just con­tinue to walk down the beach and do nothing.

How­ever, Jesus does the oppo­site of every­thing that Shun­yuan believes and walks up to his daugh­ter, touches her arm and every­thing is restored. With­out look­ing back at Shun­yuan, Jesus wan­ders off down the beach with­out a word.

At that moment, Shun­yuan woke up and began to trust that Jesus truly was the Christ. Shun­yuan began to believe that Jesus was the Sav­ior, his Sav­ior and that he could do remark­able things.

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In: Spiritual Formation
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