Barry and I love to quote this line from the Simpson's. Lisa Simpson wanted a pony, and when her parents tried to dissuade her from the idea, she said, "But I've been really, really good this year!" We are used to the reward system, aren't we? We reward kids when they are good. As adults, we hope to be rewarded with things like a raise, a promotion, or a vacation.
But I wonder how often we carry this mentality into our spiritual lives and think that maybe God owes us something for good behavior. Today, as I was reading more in Colossians and in the commentary, it struck me that all kinds of things--even good things--can trick us into thinking that we have somehow earned the good standing with God that only Christ provides. If we get up every morning and religiously follow a devotional or prayer time, do we somehow feel better about ourselves? If we volunteer in church or in the community, are we tempted to feel that we've been "really, really good"? Heck, what if it isn't even a spiritual matter? Are we tempted to feel just a tad better than others if we follow a strict diet or exercise program? Or how about if we read and study to keep ourselves well informed and educated?
There's a scripture that says, "The heart is deceitful about all things." Seems a bit negative, doesn't it? But then you realize that there really are a thousand ways we deceive ourselves into thinking that we've been "really, really good," and lose our focus on the only one who can make us truly good. Disciplines are important--don't get me wrong. But are we leaning on them in an unhealthy way, or are we taking an unhealthy pride in them? Disciplines are a fitting response, but they don't save our souls.
On Memorial Day, we watched Saving Private Ryan. The film is a potent reminder of the weighty gift of grace. Larry showed a clip from the film on Sunday and noted in his sermon that when the dying captain said to Private Ryan, "Earn this," he imposed a horrible burden on the young man that no one could live up to. I agree. We can never earn the sacrifice paid by those young men and thousands like them who died on the beaches of Europe and throughout the world during WWII. How can you put a price on what they gave to pay for our freedoms? But I think there may be another way of looking at what the captain asked of Private Ryan. I think in a way, he wasn't telling Ryan to earn the sacrifice. I think he was telling him to live a life that was somehow a fitting response to their sacrifice. In other words, don't squander the gift of life and freedom that you have been given at such a great cost. Live a life that matters. Live a life that makes a difference. It's an appropriate response to what you have been given.
And that's the difference. We can be disciplined in many ways--spiritual, physical, intellectual--but if what we are doing flows from an attempt to earn grace rather than from a grateful response to a grace already given, then we don't understand that grace, and we cheapen it. Our disciplines say, in effect, that the sacrifice wasn't enough, and we have to add to it. This seems to be the thing the Colossians missed that Paul wanted to correct. Don't put your trust in your spirituality or in your spiritual or physical disciplines. Put it in the complete sacrifice that has already been made on your behalf--and then go live a life that is spiritually rich and disciplined out of love and gratitude for what has already been done for you, so that you can, in turn, give to others.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
On Sunday, Tom spoke about faith. He defined it in negative terms--by the things that faith is not. Faith is not about being certain about the outcome. Faith is not about twisting God's arm to do our will. Faith is not about removing all doubt or fear. Faith is not about wishing for the best.
So what is it? Tom suggested this: Faith is a commitment to trust God. Interesting. It's a commitment--not to trust that all will be ok, nor to trust in our own good decisions or council. It's not about trusting in anything other than the God we have come to know as utterly worthy of our trust.
I re-read the 11th chapter Hebrews where the faith of generations of Biblical characters is reviewed. I noticed, this time, how many times an action verb was used to describe their faith.
By faith, Abraham went...Noah built...Rahab hid the spies...Moses refused his identity and chose the people of God...Joseph instructed that his bones be taken out of Egypt...the people of Israel passed through the read sea...
Faith is clearly about action, even in the face of very uncertain circumstances. So isn't that just foolishness? If our faith were in our own wisdom, strength or character, it would be foolish indeed. But our faith is in a God who has proven his character to be unshakable. He has shown us his perfect justice and his unsearchable love through the cross. He has earned our trust, though He didn't need to, and he has also demonstrated his love, though we didn't seek it and often don't return it. Our faith can be a bold action verb because He is there to catch us, to walk before us, to live within us. There is nowhere we can go where He is absent. Faith is never foolish when the object of our faith is Christ.
Psalm 91:4 "His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."
So what is it? Tom suggested this: Faith is a commitment to trust God. Interesting. It's a commitment--not to trust that all will be ok, nor to trust in our own good decisions or council. It's not about trusting in anything other than the God we have come to know as utterly worthy of our trust.
I re-read the 11th chapter Hebrews where the faith of generations of Biblical characters is reviewed. I noticed, this time, how many times an action verb was used to describe their faith.
By faith, Abraham went...Noah built...Rahab hid the spies...Moses refused his identity and chose the people of God...Joseph instructed that his bones be taken out of Egypt...the people of Israel passed through the read sea...
Faith is clearly about action, even in the face of very uncertain circumstances. So isn't that just foolishness? If our faith were in our own wisdom, strength or character, it would be foolish indeed. But our faith is in a God who has proven his character to be unshakable. He has shown us his perfect justice and his unsearchable love through the cross. He has earned our trust, though He didn't need to, and he has also demonstrated his love, though we didn't seek it and often don't return it. Our faith can be a bold action verb because He is there to catch us, to walk before us, to live within us. There is nowhere we can go where He is absent. Faith is never foolish when the object of our faith is Christ.
Psalm 91:4 "His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Still reading Wiersbe's book. He's focusing now on the part where Paul defends his ministry and his right to speak into the lives of the Colossians. (Col. 1:21 - 2:3). Interesting, isn't it, that even in Paul's day there were spin meisters? They likely used Paul's imprisonment to cast doubts about his character. Nevermind that he was in prison precisely because he was a faithful minister of the gospel who would not compromise for the sake of his own comfort or ease.
Let's face it. Suffering is not something any of us would choose, but Paul's amazing commitment to the gospel demonstrates that he fully understood and joyfully embraced the implications of his choice. If his own suffering meant that the gospel was being shared and people's lives were being changed, Paul counted it an honor that he was chosen for the task.
Wiersbe writes, "There was a time when Paul had persecuted the church and caused it to suffer. But now Paul devoted his life to the care of the church. Paul did not ask, as do some believers, 'What will I get out of it?' Instead he asked, 'How much will God let me put into it?'"
What a timely word in a world where people "church shop" to find the church that "meets their needs" or makes them comfortable or has just the right kind of music or the right minister. Paul would not have understood that way of thinking. Nor should we.
Let's face it. Suffering is not something any of us would choose, but Paul's amazing commitment to the gospel demonstrates that he fully understood and joyfully embraced the implications of his choice. If his own suffering meant that the gospel was being shared and people's lives were being changed, Paul counted it an honor that he was chosen for the task.
Wiersbe writes, "There was a time when Paul had persecuted the church and caused it to suffer. But now Paul devoted his life to the care of the church. Paul did not ask, as do some believers, 'What will I get out of it?' Instead he asked, 'How much will God let me put into it?'"
What a timely word in a world where people "church shop" to find the church that "meets their needs" or makes them comfortable or has just the right kind of music or the right minister. Paul would not have understood that way of thinking. Nor should we.
Friday, May 1, 2009
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