What's in it for me?

"If laying your life down for Christ is going to get you something then you are missing the whole point of being a Christian."

I got a comment from someone with this quote. I have to say, if we get nothing for laying down our lives, then we are simply engaging in pointless self destruction, and I don't know why a healthy person would do that. God is not asking us to lay down our lives for nothing. Laying down our lives is the essence of Walking in the Spirit--and it will yield many personal benefits--love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, self-control, etc. God will also reward us eternally for it. He is faithful to reward those who seek him, and his ways are good.

I think that this belief is also falsely pious. You got saved because there was something in it for YOU, not God. What did God get by saving you from destruction? Certainly, we walk in gratitude for what God has done. But God knows we are weak and small. God alone is great. The greatest believer's pile of "something for God" is the tiniest thing, no where near a worthy sacrifice. We are the beficiaries in Christ, not God. It isn't selfish or greedy to say so, it's acknowledgement of our smallness and His Greatness.

We need to understand that God is not on a quest to get blood from a turnip. He offers us the good works to do, gives us the will and power to do them, and also the reason to step into them--not just gratitude, but also temporal and eternal reward for obedience and disclipline for disobedience. It's all His. The glory for it is All His. Why does he give us good works to do? Because it is good for us to participate with Him in what he's doing--a blessing. Does he need us to serve him? No, we serve as a priveledge and blessing--like a poor person allowed to drive a rich person's car to deliver the gift of the rich person to someone in need, and in return the driver gets a million dollars. His goodness is all out of proportion to ours, and there is absolutely more in it for us than Him.

So I do not think that it is out of line to consider that as we lay down our lives, we receive many blessings much greater than what we lay down. That is WHY we lay down our lives, not because God has something to gain from us.

The Last Beautiful Day

Today is the last beautiful day. Today, the sun will cast golden light on fiery leaves, and we'll stomp them into crackly oblivion under our feet. Tomorrow, it will rain and blow and they will be soggy and dead and the chance will be gone for another year. But today is the last day to squeeze delight from worn out summertime. We'll laugh loud, and run, and not think of tomorrow's rain. We'll climb a tree and eat an apple and pitch to core to splatter on the post. We'll sit together, and huddle tight in chilling air and watch the last pale blue green sunset.

Today is the last beautiful day. There is much to prepare: the gutters will overrun if they are full of leaves, and must be cleaned today or our walls may rot. It should have been done last week. The rain is coming soon, and there is firewood that will be wet if we do not haul it today, we have too little and will be cold for winter if there is no dry wood. The several cords we have may not last the season. The rain is coming, and it will cut us off from playing outside with friends and neighbors. We need to bring in the outdoor furniture so that it doesn't spoil this winter. We've been too lax, we must dig in and use this last chance to brace for winter.

The Relational Nature of our Hope

Here's the thing: if our hope is not foundationally one of relationship with each other and God, I despair of putting stock in it.

Laying down my life and following Christ that I may have a life where I get power and authority and majestic responsibility does not move me. In light of what must be endured, I see no point. God may well be holy and good and worthy and the only one, but I do not find enough in that hope to awaken the faith to persevere.

When I connect with others, and sing songs that waken the relational part of me, I can hope. That gives me solice and lifts my head: not only is life offered, but it is a life worth living. Not a perfect machine, but a breathing thing with tender unexpectedness.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self control--where are these revealed if not in relationships, even broken ones? How can they be provoked, or honed, or seen without connection with others? What meaning do they have without that context?

The Woodcutter's Horse

I really like this story, as told by Max Lucado in The Eye of the Storm:

The Woodcutter's Horse
Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before – such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend.” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in his stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been to high. Now the horse is gone and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”

The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”

The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, and old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again, the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”

The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of one phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?”

“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is one fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”

“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned. With a little work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.

“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken both his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”

The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

“You were right, old man,” They wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this. Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”

Rom 8:28-34
28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
31 What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.

Eternal Insecurity

My flesh screams, "I am NOT okay!" and it prattles on a list of failures and fears to prove its point. My timid soul asks, "Am I okay?" I know, my earlier poem promised that I wouldn't ask this any more, but I'm not soaked with okayness yet.

It's the Bible that kills me on this. Scriptures that say things like "I would that you were hot or cold, but you are lukewarm and I'm about to vomit you up," or "You are not the ones that shrink back and are destroyed (ha!)..." or any number of other verses that present the importance of standing in faith--which I suck at. I'm not talking about all the religious things I'm bad at. It doesn't really bug me that I don't pray the way I think others might say I should, or that we don't punch a clock at a church. I don't feel guilty for not singing worship songs, or volunteering at the soup kitchen or serving in the nursery somewhere. What slays me is my disobedience to the Spirit within me that says "Engage with your kids." It isn't like I never obey that voice--I do. But I know that my obedience is so slight and my failure is so great.

I'll have to finish this later. Kids calling.

Life is like a walk to Mt. Doom

We just finished watching all of LOTR with the older kids. It was the first time I'd watched the whole thing. I don't like violent movies, and I get figetty during extended action scenes. But I read the trilogy to the kids a couple years ago, and we have all been passionate LOTR afficionados ever since.



The whole LOTR thing is very dear to my heart. Here's a community of people living at the end of their age. And Frodo says something like "I wish this wasn't my life. I wish it hadn't come to this." And Gandalf answers that we don't get a choice about the times we live in, we just get to decide what to do with our time. I feel the twist of Frodo's lament, and the wisdom and peace of Gandalf's answer. Let's live in the Now and Love What Is.



I am afraid of Frodo's destiny though: "We saved the Shire, but not for me." When he reached the Far Country, did the sword of the nazgul cease to pain him? Will the agony of sin follow us beyond this chapter of the story? How is it that hell doesn't taint heaven?

Earth or Heaven?

If heaven is our home, why don't the meek get to come? Are the persecuted and the meek going two different places?

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. ....Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

WHAT Joy?

• Hebrews 12:2-3
  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
  
  This weekend, our extended family gathered for a little campout at the grandparent’s house. Sitting around the campfire, I posed a question that comes from that verse up there. “What was the joy that inspired Jesus to endure the cross?” This wasn’t just idle curiosity or an invitation to an intellectual exercise to me. As my writings here have revealed, I need to know why I should endure whatever comes in the future, and more immediately, deny myself now. I think Jesus walked in the hope that he intends us to walk in also, so it matters WHY he did what he did.
  
  The group was comprised of an eclectic sampling of older and younger, conservative and charismatic, strong in faith and some who feel far from God. Here are some of the answers, paraphrased:
  
  “I think we are the joy that Jesus was seeking. I don’t really know any Biblical support for that, but that’s my impression.”
  
  “He was looking forward to the Bride. He desired the intimacy of restored relationship with his people.”
  
  “It was for glory that Jesus obeyed his Father and went to the cross. He didn’t do it because he felt like it, but because his Father said to. Jesus bought a Kingdom with his blood.”
  
  “He was inspired by looking forward to making all things whole and complete. His death and resurrection laid the foundation for creation to be healed and restored. His joy is the perfection of all things.”
  
  Then Great Grandpa said he thought that Jesus expressed his motivation well in his prayer in John 14:
  
  [I pray that] all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
  
  "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.
  "Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them."
  
  This blows me away. Aspects of all the motivations mentioned were there, and at least one more as well.
  
  First of all, Glory. Since that was kind of an empty word to me, I went to my study tools to see what I could find. I was not surprised to see glory described as a bright shininess or overwhelming power or honor. I was more intrigued by the primary meaning, though, which went back to the root of “to seem” or to make apparent. The glory of Christ was that the Father’s BEING, His Essence, was IN Him (Col 1:19). The Glory of God is not just an ethereal shining, but it is everything that He truly is: Good, Loving, Strong, Noble, Just, Merciful, Eternal, Powerful, etc. And Christ shares his glory with us: not just his power or right to rule, or the glow of righteousness, but the I AM that was within him is now IN us! The Essential God—the “I AM that I AM” has been shared with us, planted in us: “For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority.”(Col 2:9-10)
  
  
  The cross of Christ was a benevolent act, to give us something we lacked. And check out what it is: “I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one.” He went through this to share his being so that we could have fellowship with one another and with him? It must be really important to God, this ability to belong to one another and live in peace and connectedness. The Kingdom of God that Christ establishes must be in essence one of unity of believers, because He is Love.
  
  Some people have emphasized the aspect of the glory of God that is his authority, power, and justice. This is accurate as far it goes. However, the Glory of God that is put in us is much, much more. It is the very Holy Spirit in us, the indwelling, and it is primarily given for relational purposes: that we may be one with one another, and with God, sharing in His very nature, in ALL its fullness.
  
  
  Col 2:9-15
  For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, 10 and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority. 11 In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, 12 having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.
  13 When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, 14 having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross.

Drawing in a Breath

I am discovering a beautiful thing right now, and this blog writing has been a part of it. I am sorry if this writing doesn’t speak clearly or is contradictory or is way too long, but it is the imperfection of it that is allowing my soul to breath in the life of God. I am just going to give what I have, a partial understanding in a childish heart, and I’m going to give it with abandon, because I’m okay. I need to hash these thoughts through, and this is how I was made to do it. Maybe the process can help someone else understand something better, maybe it won’t. If it doesn’t, it is still doing me a world of good.

I am accepted by the Father and given an irrevocable name. I will persevere and lay hold of my salvation. I am one of a web of Called Out Ones, and I belong. Mike, if you’re out there, I just listened to your sermon on the Indwelling vs. the Incarnation, and I receive that word from the Father that Christ is my head and He alone will lead me. I am walking in freedom and joy as I awkwardly give—in coaching the lego team, in serving my husband, in shepherding my kids, in writing rambling blog entries, in preparing to teach silly classes on paper crafts and birds, preparing for a camping trip that I could have had a bad attitude about, having friends over in my lower class home. I feel His pleasure in it.

I am discovering that I have “everything I need for life and godliness.” My heart has, in the past, turned to wanting. It would begin a sentence, “I wish….we had a church/more money/could go to Hawaii/were born with different color hair, etc.” The conviction in my husband’s heart that the Day of the Lord is coming soon to end all normal life functions, pretty much made all those wishes totally irrelevant. It took away the option of getting terribly wrapped up in preparing for my kids’ college, or redecorating, or going on a luxurious vacation, or crafting the ultimate business or ministry. So, life has been very hard without the draw forward. But I am slowly grasping the joy of the now, and the eternal hope of the future. When we realize that God is close to the broken hearted, there is no danger in having your heart broken, because the Comforter is greater than all.

Because of the Spirit, we have forever. I may only get started learning to draw now, but I will have all eternity to practice and seek mentors and find beautiful subjects. I don’t have to worry that relationships aren’t progressing as fast as I’d like, because I will have forever to get to know and enjoy my brothers and sisters in Christ. I don’t have to despise the day of small beginnings. I can step down a road, and if it is cut short now, I will have a chance to pick it up later.

I find that my wishes are silly. I wish we had a church. Yet, here around me are a great cloud of believers that support, know, and love me, as well as any cohesive church ever did. I wish I had something to offer, but I can offer the things that don't seem like much to me (because they are what I do naturally) and they are something to someone else. Go figure! Praise the Author of the Story!

Heb 10:14 ...by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.

Let's hear it for the Now and the Not Yet of our hope!

Refreshing Perspective

It is nice to know we aren't the only people on the planet that perceive the gospel the way we do:

http://www.gracewalk.org/pages.asp?pageid=48977

There's More

Faith says “There’s More.”

Sometimes I’m tempted to close my hand and withhold what is asked because my resources are limited. “I can’t give you this, it’s all I have!”

But Faith says, “There’s more!” and freely gives out of the wealth of the Father.

Sometimes, I close my eyes in fear, and resist what is or might be. “This horrible thing is all there will ever be!”

But Faith says, “There’s more!” and extends the vision of eternal peace and life on a restored Earth, sharing in the glory of the Son.

Sometimes, I am sure I am all alone. “No one is beside me, no one understands!”

But Faith says, “There’s more!” and reveals a host of brothers and sisters that share in One Faith, One baptism, and pursue the same God and Father of all.

Sometimes, I smugly declare that I’ve understood it all. “I have grasped the mind of God.”

And Faith, smiling, says, “There’s more!” and reveals treasures to the horizon, untasted.

Contrasting Covenants

I understand the Old Covenant to be this: Do what God says, and he will give you (Israel) land, prosperity and He will be your God. Fail to obey his statutes, and suffer separation and loss.

Time and again this deal is offered to them: be good, get stuff (material stuff.) Be bad, get spanked.

The Old Covenant has a measuring rod--the Law, and consequences of not meeting those standards. The Law is referred to by Christ as including even the Psalms. It is all of the teachings of the Old Testament: circumcision, the Ten Commandments, the sacrificial system, etc. The New Testament writers consisently write of it as an inviolable whole. If you break one part of it, you've shattered it all.

The energy of the Law is self-effort. YOU read the rules, YOU follow the rules, YOU get the treat. Good job, YOU.

The Law is perfect and holy, and in it is no mercy. If you put your hope in walking by these external codes, you must do it perfectly or die.

When Jesus came and taught under this Law (and his moral teachings were under law remember--the new covenant was ushered in not by his life, but by his death), he raised the stakes immeasurably. He clarified that not only being perfect on the outside was required, but also on the inside. It isn't enough to just not kill anyone, but you must not even have a murderous thought. It isn't enough to just act pure, but you can't lust in your heart of hearts. He wanted those listening to realize the hopeless situation they were in. They had no power to be perfect just as God himself is perfect. He was bringing them to a ripeness for the birth of a new thing.

The New Thing is the New Covenant. A new deal that God offered: Believe in my son, and receive eternal life. He did away with the old deal that we couldn't fulfill because of our flesh. No longer are we to be automously trying to fulfill a list of commands, making educated guesses about "What Jesus Would Do" in our place. Because of the death and resurrection of Christ, we've received the Holy Spirit, making it possible for each of us to walk as Jesus walked: connected to the heart of God, Alive like he was alive. Dimly now, and fully and brightly when he is revealed in his glory on that last day. But faith says "I have the spirit of God within me because of Christ, and I am not alone." It says this no matter what feelings or experiences may come. When thoughts flit, "I am abandoned" or "I must find my own way" we must take them captive to Christ: "No, I am adopted and will rule in Glory with my King," and "No, I leave off finding my own way and submit to the Father who loves me and fills me."

Expectations

Time was when my life was drawn forward by the expectation of the next great thing: getting married, graduating college, moving to another state, starting a business, expecting a baby, going on a trip. But having had my last child several years ago and moving to a home that we never expect to leave, there is no longer anything on the horizon that is so happy. I know that my children will grow up and leave. Or that someone will die. In fact, in watching the times, the next likely event coming up will be the pouring out of God's wrath in a comet strike on earth. But I don't want to "go there" now. No sense in exposing myself as a nut case right off the bat.

So, how to live. Day by day, listening to the Father's heart, laying down my life to care for those that God puts in my circle.

I find myself wondering how other people live dangling over the abyss. When there is nothing but loss to anticipate, how do others live? Of course, I do have the eternal hope of Christ's return and the resurrection/trainsformation of the Saints. But there is a whole lot of death between here and there.