Larry’s sermon Sunday on identity is an important one. A couple of years ago, I was still working for my former employer. It was a good job—perfect for a tough economy—stable, good retirement, decent income and benefits, and a fair chance I could work there ‘til the cows came home.
I hit a few bumps when a new boss came on board. For some reason, we didn’t hit it off, which was strange for me since I get along with most everyone. Apparently, this guy was immune to my charms and ignorant of my exceptional intellectual prowess. Go figure.
Soon, fear crept in. What if I don’t make this guy’s grading curve? What if I lose my good standing and reputation? What if I lose my job? It spiraled from there.
God began to challenge me with that still, small voice: “Just who is your provider? Is this job your entire identity?” Around that same time, doors began to open for me to freelance, something I always said I wanted to do. Now that the chance presented itself, I was shocked to realize how much identity and security I found in my position—and how hard it was to let go.
Then a friend shared a remarkable story. An executive coach who works with top CEOs all over the world, my friend told of a time when she found herself working for a particularly difficult boss. Eventually, she was miserable and had to make a choice. She approached her boss and said something like this: “Listen, if you believe my time here has run its course, I’ll say my goodbyes. No hard feelings. But if you feel I still have something to offer this company, I would like to stay.” Then she added, “But I will not work for you.”
I gulped when she told me that. How could she be so blunt? She said, “Because I know who my provider is.” She stayed with that firm, and she got a new boss. Remarkably, they valued her honesty, but she was ready to leave if it had worked out otherwise.
When we know that our provision and affirmation come from God, fear loses steam. If our identity depends on careers, reputation, or image, we can’t risk losing those things to such moments of honesty with others or even with ourselves. Likewise, in those times when we have no choice but to stay, even when we are unfairly treated or unvalued, we can survive knowing our worth is not derived from what we do. It is a huge lesson. A lifetime lesson.
Who do we trust for provision, sense of self, affirmation, or even to justify our existence? If I trust in God, he says I am complete in him—period. I may spend the rest of my life learning to surrender to that truth and to rest in that grace, but I am finding that the more I do, the more fearlessly I can live.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
What's Your Portion?
Nothing like a funeral to put a little perspective on life. I attended two this weekend! At both we sang, "Amazing Grace," but one included verse three, often omitted. It's my favorite:
In my daily devotional*, today the reading was from the book of Job where Job's wife, distraught over their losses, urges Job to curse God and die. "But Job replies, 'You talk like a foolish woman. Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad? So in all this, Job said nothing wrong." (Job 2:8-10)
Diane Ebel**, writer of this devotional, says "There are many people who look at the suffering in the world and conclude that God does not exist—and even if he does, they want nothing to do with him. How can you love and serve a God who allows such misery? Job's wife despaired of having a relationship with a God who would destroy her life overnight. She told her husband to abandon his integrity and his relationship with God. Job's response illustrates one of the great truths of Bible: the wise person values the Giver more than the gifts. As common as it is for us to love God mostly because of what he has given us rather than because of who he is, Job shows us that such an attitude is ultimately foolish."
The wise person values the Giver more than the gifts.
If God is our portion, then no matter what our losses or disappointments, we rest in knowing that He is enough. Yes, it takes faith to stand on that. No doubt, we have to remind ourselves--often--that our unfulfilled longings are markers, pointing us to the Source of ultimate fulfillment. But if we hold to this truth that God is our portion, I believe he will show us that he is enough. More than enough, in fact. We have been given God himself, through Christ. What more can we need?
*The daily online devotional I read is called, "Encouraging Words: Daily Devotional for Women." You can sign up for a free subscription at http://www.christianitytoday.com/lyris/subscribe/encouragingwords.html. The devotions are quite short, so it's easy to read one each day, no matter how busy your morning!
**Diane Eble, author of Abundant Gifts: A Daybook of Grace-Filled Devotions
The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures.The Lord is my portion? What does that mean?
In my daily devotional*, today the reading was from the book of Job where Job's wife, distraught over their losses, urges Job to curse God and die. "But Job replies, 'You talk like a foolish woman. Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad? So in all this, Job said nothing wrong." (Job 2:8-10)
Diane Ebel**, writer of this devotional, says "There are many people who look at the suffering in the world and conclude that God does not exist—and even if he does, they want nothing to do with him. How can you love and serve a God who allows such misery? Job's wife despaired of having a relationship with a God who would destroy her life overnight. She told her husband to abandon his integrity and his relationship with God. Job's response illustrates one of the great truths of Bible: the wise person values the Giver more than the gifts. As common as it is for us to love God mostly because of what he has given us rather than because of who he is, Job shows us that such an attitude is ultimately foolish."
The wise person values the Giver more than the gifts.
If God is our portion, then no matter what our losses or disappointments, we rest in knowing that He is enough. Yes, it takes faith to stand on that. No doubt, we have to remind ourselves--often--that our unfulfilled longings are markers, pointing us to the Source of ultimate fulfillment. But if we hold to this truth that God is our portion, I believe he will show us that he is enough. More than enough, in fact. We have been given God himself, through Christ. What more can we need?
Colossians 2:9-10: 9For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, 10and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority.
Romans 8:38-39: 38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
*The daily online devotional I read is called, "Encouraging Words: Daily Devotional for Women." You can sign up for a free subscription at http://www.christianitytoday.com/lyris/subscribe/encouragingwords.html. The devotions are quite short, so it's easy to read one each day, no matter how busy your morning!
**Diane Eble, author of Abundant Gifts: A Daybook of Grace-Filled Devotions
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Perspective
Just got back from vacation last week. Nothing like a road trip and time away from the daily grind to give you a little perspective. We were up in the mountains where the air is cool, and somehow those long-range views remind you that the world is very big, and in the grand scheme of things, our troubles are momentary and small. Within the first day or two, I ran across the passage where Jesus tells his followers not to worry. He reminds them that worry will not add an inch to their height or a moment to their days. He also reminds them that "your Father knows what you need." So "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be added to you." In my gut, I knew God was going to talk to me about this, even before we arrived.
I've been working mad hours in the last few months, all out of a sense of obligation because times are tough. It just seemed wrong to turn down any opportunity that came my way when there is no guarantee that another opportunity will arise tomorrow. But this passage and that "still small voice" reminded me of two things. First, I'm not God. It is not my obligation to fix the world. Second, if I refuse to say no once in a while, I am acting as if I believe the world does indeed depend on me and God can't quite be trusted. By refusing to say no, I am also demonstrating that I don't really believe Jesus' words when he says, "The Father knows what you need....Seek first..." There's an element of trust involved when we say no, when we set a few margins around our lives, when we make time to stop and listen to God, to listen to our families, to have dinner with them, to make room for friends or for our spouses. It takes an element of trust to do all of these things instead of simply working all the time as though our existence depended solely on our labor.
Lesson learned. Writer Randy Alcorn once wrote, "What do you need to say no to so that you can say "yes" to the things God is asking you to do?" I know in my "knower" what I need to say no to. Do you?
I've been working mad hours in the last few months, all out of a sense of obligation because times are tough. It just seemed wrong to turn down any opportunity that came my way when there is no guarantee that another opportunity will arise tomorrow. But this passage and that "still small voice" reminded me of two things. First, I'm not God. It is not my obligation to fix the world. Second, if I refuse to say no once in a while, I am acting as if I believe the world does indeed depend on me and God can't quite be trusted. By refusing to say no, I am also demonstrating that I don't really believe Jesus' words when he says, "The Father knows what you need....Seek first..." There's an element of trust involved when we say no, when we set a few margins around our lives, when we make time to stop and listen to God, to listen to our families, to have dinner with them, to make room for friends or for our spouses. It takes an element of trust to do all of these things instead of simply working all the time as though our existence depended solely on our labor.
Lesson learned. Writer Randy Alcorn once wrote, "What do you need to say no to so that you can say "yes" to the things God is asking you to do?" I know in my "knower" what I need to say no to. Do you?
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
"I've been really, really good this year!"
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.
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.
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.
Labels:
Colossians,
serving the church,
suffering for Christ
Friday, May 1, 2009
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