Confessions Of An Egotist

There are certain things in life that totally terrify me.

Junior-High campus is one of those things.

Some people are afraid of a lightless room, others are afraid of 8-legged monsters, I'm afraid of small, mysterious creatures that have the ability to make you feel inadequate whenever they like. What's worse? They are completely unaware of their super-power.

But what really scares me about going to influence Junior-Higher's on their turf? I'm afraid they won't like me. At least that's the just of it.

You see, the Junior-Higher's have a weakness. They have a kryptonite. They are incapable of effecting people who's ego is void. Their power is only able to influence a person's ego, thus when the ego is non-existent, they are powerless.

But it is a painful process to let go of the ego -- to make the Ego void -- isn't it?

And not just painful but confusing. How do we let go of the ego?

You probably know the answer.

The Ego desperately wants to control our decisions. "Don't do that," says our Ego, "because it will make you look stupid." Or, "Do that because it will make you look good." The Ego constantly avoids deflation and encourages inflation. And we feel valuable or invaluable based upon how inflated our Ego-Balloon is.

The answer?

When the Ego says, "Don't," do. Intentionally do things that frighten the Ego.

So, what frightens your Ego?

What I Learned About God By Walking Through The Wilderness

What is most interesting to me on my first day back to normal life is the extra energy it takes for me to find joy. 

On the trail, the dumbest of jokes, the tiniest act of kindness, or the smallest amount of comfort always lifted my spirits. But here in the life that we all consider “normal”, I experience less joy because I am denied no comforts. I experience less peace because my worries are artificial. I experience less love because I rarely deny myself. 

Ironically, in the midst of plenty, I experience not thankfulness, but fullness. And not the sort of fullness that Jesus offers — not the sort that satisfies — but a fullness that leaves me feeling empty, unsure of what else I could possibly acquire to make me more comfortable. It’s a fullness, I think, that needs to be quenched in order to experience the fullness that God offers. 

There is a genuine experience of God’s fullness when we deny ourselves. 

So how can we deny ourselves in our everyday lives. Here are a few ideas to wrestle with.

1. Live more frugally so that we can help those who need help without expecting anything in return.

2. Give grace to people who are inconsistent, irritating, or frustrating to us.

3. In exercise, push ourselves to an uncomfortable level.

4. Invite someone over for dinner, sacrificing an evening to spread a little love.

5. Follow through on those plans you would really like to cancel on.

6. Tell someone how much you appreciate their influence in your life. 

7. Stop looking in the mirror.

Confident Assurance

I'm currently reading through Jerry Bridges' The Gospel For Real Life and though I have a fair amount of disagreements with what he has to say in this book, one thing struck me this morning. Speaking about pursuing Christian virtues, Bridges says, "However, the doing of these things...is not the basis of the rich welcome. Rather, it is the means...whereby we make our calling and election sure. In other words, it is a way we assure ourselves that we have been made new creations in Christ and do have the hope of eternal life."

Maybe take a second to read that one more time.

Wow. I know it's true that our works are not the justification for our access to eternal life, but I never thought about the fact that our sinlessness and our pursuit to become more like Christ are simply a way to assure ourselves of our coming inheritance. In other words, we can be filthy rotten sinners who are committed to Christ, and by Christ, we are justified before God, but by living this way we will lack the confidence that God prompts us to have in this life.

Does this make sense?

In John 10:10, Jesus told us that he came to give us abundant life. But this abundant life is only accessed when we truly give up our own sinful desires and focus our desires on Christ. Christ offers us the confident assurance in this life of His coming Kingdom and of our place in that Kingdom, and in order to engage with that confidence and with the abundant life that Jesus offers, we must pick up our cross daily and follow Christ.

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." -- Matthew 16:24-25

Waiting in Trust and Expectation

David's awareness and trust of God's promises earned him the title "a man after God's own heart." There is a phrase he uses often throughout the psalms: Wait on the Lord. But what does this phrase mean?

If I wait on someone, that means that I am probably waiting for a person to show up to a scheduled meeting. After all, you don't wait for someone you don't expect to show. I would not wait for someone who, five minutes past the scheduled time, had still not arrived and was a generally untrustworthy person.

The implication of waiting is expectation. You only wait for the person that you expect to 'show up.' The implication in David and God's relationship is obvious: David expected God to show up.

Also, you don't wait for someone who you don't want to show up. Perhaps you would, but not without the burden of obligation. This is not the situation between David and God. David's waiting is free of obligation and loaded with expectation. David desperately wants God to show up while also trusting that God will show up.

In Psalm 27:14, David says, "Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!"

So I guess this begs two questions of ourselves. First, in accordance with waiting on the Lord, do we expect God to show up? Do we expect God to be in our situation? Do we know that God will be there when we need him and that he is trustworthy? 

Second, do we want God to show up? Many may say, "Well of course I do!" But is that true? Think about it. Are you ever afraid of what God may have to say to you if he were to show up? Are you ever worried that you won't be able to take to heart what God has to say? 

Do you want God to show up? Do you trust God to show up?

Are you waiting?

Do 

A 3-Day Eternity?

Here's my thought.

If the punishment for the most minor slight against God is -- as generally confessed -- an eternal punishment in hell (which in and of itself irks me), how did Jesus' death and three day visit to Sheol compensate for the sins of those who would believe in him?

Do you see the discrepancy?

And I know... Jesus is God and he lived a perfect life, so in some ambiguous way, this discrepancy is reconciled through these truths.

But I'm not satisfied. Even if it's only 1 billion people who ever truly believed in Christ by the time Jesus returns (and that is a major low-ball), that is still 1 billion eternities in hell and somehow Jesus' three hours of pain and three days of death satisfied that wrath?

My first thought is that either the punishment for sin is not an eternity in hell as we've assumed, or that Jesus died for something beside our sin. Both dangerous assumptions in our anti-intellectual Christian culture that has developed.

But I'm still wrestling.

Possessive

Did you know that a lot of stories in the New Testament are not in chronological order? It’s because Jewish people were less concerned about order of events than they were about importance of events. 

In Matthew 19:13-15, there is a story Jesus tells his disciples about how the Kingdom of heaven belongs to children. Immediately after this story in verses 16 through 22 is the infamous story of the Rich Young Man. 

A quick synopsis. A rich man comes to Jesus and asks him what good acts he must do to acquire eternal life. Jesus responds that he must keep the commands God have given. The rich man then informs Jesus that he has already kept all of these commands, but sensing that Jesus isn’t finished, asks, “what do I still lack?” to which Jesus responds, “Go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” When the rich man hears this, he goes away sorrowful because, the scripture says, ‘he had great possessions.’ 

Why would Matthew choose to put the story of the children immediately before the story of the rich man? Here’s my thought.

What do children possess? Nothing. In fact, not only do they have no possessions, they are themselves a possession. They are property. Even in today’s culture, children do not have the same rights as an 18 year old adult. Now times that lack-of-rights by ten and you understand the culture of Matthew’s time.

But, to these children, to these possessions, belongs the Kingdom of Heaven.

And then the story of the rich man. He has everything he needs and yet it isn’t enough. Jesus tells him to give everything up and he doesn’t because of his ‘great possessions.’ Interesting contrast, don’t you think? 

And the question for our own asking is a simple one. Are we the child or the rich man? Not in terms of how much money we have, or how big our house is, but in terms of possessions. You see, the child’s identity is wrapped up in his father — because he is a possession of his father. But the rich man’s identity is wrapped up in the stuff he has accumulated.

The question before us is this: are we a possessor or a possession? 

The Kingdom of God belongs to those of us who are possessed by God, but for those of us who are busy doing the possessing; well, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for that person to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Trusting My God

This morning, I read, “David also said to Solomon his son, ‘Be strong and courageous, and the work. 

Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work for the service of the temple of the Lord is finished.’” - 1 Chronicles 28:20

If you don’t know, Solomon, David’s son, is about to become king and David, the current king, is giving him a pep-talk.

Most of us are familiar with similar encouragements from the scriptures. For example, the phrase ‘be strong and courageous’ is used elsewhere as well was the phrase ‘do not be afraid or discouraged.’

But what caught my eye about this scripture was David’s clarification to his son that I italicized in the scripture — ‘my God.’ Why does David say this? Is it not enough to claim that God is God and that’s all there is to it? Why is Solomon being reminded that the Lord God is David’s God?

Could it be because David was proud of his association with this God? When I read this, it was as if David was saying to Solomon, “Do you remember the stories of when I faced Goliath? Or how about when I screwed up and God still took me back? What about the promises that God made to me? This God is with you! This same God that has given me the courage to do these things will give you that same courage!”

Surely, Solomon knew his dad’s accomplishments. And here his dad is, passing those on to his son, claiming that they will all be done though his son by the power of his God. 

This morning, I wonder if I can claim that same thing. Can I tell others that the way I trust my God should merit their own trust in my God? In other words, does the way I trust my God produce in other people the same trust in my God?

Does your trust for God reach beyond yourself and prompt others to follow suit? What if you could say to a doubting person, “you can trust Jesus, my Jesus.”

Peter, Do You Love Me?

"Do you love me?" Jesus asks peter three times. By the third time, Peter says, "of course I love you, you know that!" Peter had just denied Jesus three times, and here, accordingly, Peter affirms Jesus three times. But what does this imply? Does this mean that for every sin we commit, we must confess, and what then if we forget to confess a sin? Is our destination then hell? Are we not forgiven by God unless we counter our mistakes with un-mistakes?

Jesus does not tell us why he asks Peter these questions. But what if it isn't for Jesus? I mean, Jesus died on the cross for Peter, allowed a dying thief to enter the Kingdom of heaven, and told people their sins were forgiven without any effort on their part and will Jesus then require more of Peter?

In the garden, God clothes Adam and Eve, and I believe that is what is happening here with Peter. Jesus is saying to Peter, "do you love me," not for the affirmation of Jesus but for the restoration of Peter. It is not about restoring Peter's status before God, but about restoring Peter's status before Peter.

Have we not been there? Where we make a mistake and lose ourselves in an array of guilt and depression. Then as we pray before God trying desperately to confess our mistakes, it's as though God asks us, "do you love me?" And what is always our response? "Of course I love you God! You know that! I make mistakes, but you know I love you!" And then comes God's encouragement, "Then feed my sheep."

Move forward. God knows you love him.

Sandal Straps And The Marriage Of Eternity

"And he preached, saying, 'After me comes he who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.'"

The beginning of Mark's gospel contains this proclamation about Jesus. I don't know about you, but this has always been a confusing verse for me. I mean, why would John not be worthy to stoop down and untie Jesus' sandal? It would make more sense to me if John claimed that he wasn't worthy to lead Jesus anywhere, or he wasn't worthy to be the baptizer of Jesus (which I believe John actually does claim right before he baptizes Jesus), but why this obscure statement about untying Jesus' shoes? Firstly, why doesn't John feel worthy to untie Jesus' sandals, and secondly, why does Jesus need his sandals untied? 

Well I did some studying and here is one interesting theory I found about this scripture. In Jewish understanding at the time, the pulling off of one's sandal was representative of a refusal to marry. Let me explain. 

Let's pretend that a Jewish man, Joe, and a Jewish woman, Josephine, were married. Everything was going great in their marriage except that they have not yet had kids. Suddenly Joe fell off a cliff discovering the art of rock climbing and died. After Joe died, his jewish brother, Jordan, now has a pretty serious obligation. Jordan is obligated under Jewish law to marry his dead brother's wife and produce the kids that Joe didn't have a chance to produce. That way, Joe's bloodline would not dissipate. 

Let's further pretend that Joe had bad taste in women and Josephine was particularly unattractive to Jordan. Jordan was allowed to refuse to marry his dead brother's wife. However, and this is where it gets weird, if Jordan did refuse to marry Josephine, then she was to go up to him, spit in his face, and REMOVE HIS SANDAL as a representation that this man refused to marry his brother's wife. 

So perhaps what John is saying is, "I'm not Israel's groom, but Jesus, who's sandal will not be removed, is. Jesus, who won't refuse to marry his groom, even though his groom is particularly unattractive." 

Jesus did not refuse to marry me, to marry us, even though we, his bride, crucified him. He willingly kept his sandals on and followed through with his duty of marrying us, even though we are unworthy of marrying HIM. 

And furthermore, what does it mean that Jesus married us? It means that he is committed to us. It means that he is going to lovingly sit with us as we make mistakes. It means he is going to graciously redirect us when we get off path. Do I trust in Jesus this morning? Am I willing to believe and trust that Jesus followed through with this marriage WHEN HE KNEW what he was doing? And am I equally prepared to follow through with my commitments to people and to God? Am I prepared to follow through with my commitment to my wife and stop looking at other women? Am I prepared to commit to other people and be a disciplined listener and question-asker? 

Jesus' commitment to us is a reminder of the steadfast, no-giving-up sort of commitment we all need to make to each-other. It reminds me this morning that I need to stick with people even when they hurt me. It reminds me that I need to stay committed to loving people when they don't love me back. It reminds me that when other people are tripping up, I need to tighten my sandal straps, wrap some duct tape around my feet, and not allow my sandals to slip off. 

What does it remind you of?