respect and dignity

As much as Paul can be deep and hard to understand, sometimes he’s so simple there’s no mistaking him. Often it’s when he’s reminding us of things we learned as children. It seems we have to learn life’s most basic lessons over and over.

Look at this, from 1 Timothy 5:1-2: “Do not rebuke an older man harshly, but exhort him as if he were your father. Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity.”

It shouldn’t be as complicated as we make it. We look for all kinds of nuance as we try to decide how to react to people, and find all kinds of excuses after the fact. He ticked me off. She’s an idiot. He shouldn’t be on the road if he doesn’t know how to drive. She should make better life choices.

Here’s the thing: none of that matters to Paul, or to God. You see, our behavior should have very little to do with the other person and everything to do with us. We behave in certain ways because that’s how we reflect the fact that we were created in God’s image and redeemed by Jesus’ sacrifice. That enables us to take the high road, to be the bigger person, to stay true to ourselves in spite of how others treat us.

And the standard is very simple: treat everyone like you want others to treat your family. Old men are our dads and grandpas, young men are our brothers. Women of all ages become moms and sisters. And we treat them with respect, give them grace, and protect their dignity. 

Because here’s the thing: in Christ, we are all family.

training

Some of my friends are into cross-fit. I admire that. I admire the hard work they do and the things they accomplish, but even more I admire the way they seldom miss a workout. There’s something about cross-fit that really gets people committed.

I’m a more basic guy. I run and do push-ups, sit-ups and some dumbbell work. I do it on the days I feel good and skip the days my body tells me to take it easy. I’m pretty faithful in my workouts, but not to the extent of the cross-fit bunch.

I’m more faithful with my devotions and this blog, and that’s probably a good thing. Look at what Paul explained to Timothy in 1 Timothy 4:8: “For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”

Exercise and physical workouts are great, and I encourage everyone to pay attention to that part of your life. But Paul makes it very plain that physical training will help in only a handful of ways.

Investing in godliness, though, will help every aspect of your life. Your health, finances, and relationships will all get better. Your emotional resilience will increase. Your ability to handle trouble and stay tough will grow. And most of all, you’ll understand God better and know more readily what he would have you do.

I wonder when we’ll get as excited about Bible study, prayer and devotions as we are about fitness. I wonder if as a group we’ll ever train our spiritual selves as diligently as we do our bodies. I wonder if that will ever be a multi-billion dollar industry.

On second thought, it shouldn’t be. Godly people will always prefer to invest their money in other people rather than themselves.

a noble task

1 Timothy 3:1: “Here is a trustworthy saying: Whoever aspires to be an overseer desires a noble task.”

I’ve always cringed when I read this, because it sounds like a way to pat ourselves on the back for something we would do for ourselves anyway. I mean, most people prefer leadership posts to following. They like the attention, the power to call the shots, the ability once in a while to make it easy on themselves. Or they think they’ll be able to make things easy for their own group, and hard for people they don’t like. Being the leader is the best way to get your own way.

I guess, as I think about it, that may never have occurred to Paul. Paul mean’t exactly what he said most of the time, and in this case I think that his motives were pure. Paul didn’t want anything for himself, so he understood leadership as a great service. 

Paul understood something: the church, and individual Christians, need leaders. This is a gift along with all the other gifts by which God equips his church. Just as some are called to preach and teach, others are called to see the vision and help everyone else see it. Some are called to humbly and gently rebuke and restore us when we sin. Some are gifted to take care of the hundreds of details that keep an institution afloat. 

Leadership is a noble task. It’s too bad we’ve learned to do it for ignoble purposes. 

quiet lives

What’s your ambition? A house at the lake? An executive position with your company? To get that blue check mark on Twitter, to be somebody everyone knows about?

Or is it to live out your life quietly and peacefully, in a way that pleases God?

Not many of us come up with the last answer, but it’s the one Paul encourages us to make. Look at this, from 1 Timothy 2:1-4: “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.”

I notice in this passage a couple of things.

First, the way to this quiet life is by being peaceful, which suggest we should be peacemakers. I heard a sermon yesterday about that, and the preacher noted that peace-making takes action. He pointed out that it starts with negotiating a cease fire, which can be nurtured into a fragile peace that, with time, could mature into a cooperative relationship.

How can we do that? Through prayer. By making petitions and intercession for everyone – perceived enemies included – we can make progress where it seems impossible. By giving thanksgiving for everyone, including those leaders we think are wrong, we create the conditions in our own minds for peace. 

What we recognize in this kind of prayer is that the real enemy, Satan, sets us to fighting each other. One of us is wrong, possibly us, and Satan has that party convinced of their rightness. Peace is the last thing he wants, so he goads us. After all, Paul notes, God wants all people to be saved, even the ones we’re at war with.

Make it your ambition to live a quiet life, making and mending the peace through constant prayer and consistent effort. This is good, and pleases God our Savior. And it seems a worthy way this Memorial Day to honor those who died to give us the chance.

the law

There’s an art to writing policies for a business. A good policy enables you to hold your least-motivated people accountable while not putting restrictions on your best people. In other words, you only really use a policy to get the attention of people who won’t get with the program.

When Paul described the law to Timothy in 1 Timothy 1:8-9, it sounded like much the same thing: “We know that the law is good if one uses it properly. We also know that the law is made not for the righteous but for lawbreakers and rebels, the ungodly and sinful, the unholy and irreligious . . . .”

That’s a useful distinction for those of us trying to figure out our relationship to the law in the post-crucifixion era of grace. We find, according to Paul, that the law is not really to be used against those of us who already follow Jesus. It’s meant for the ones who still are unrepentant about their sin.

That’s because the primary role of the law is to satisfy God’s justice, and that can only happen one of two ways. Either we are under the law and justice is satisfied by the law being enforced, or we are redeemed by Jesus and his sacrifice, which meets the requirements of the law. One way, we earn the wages of our sin, which is death. The other, we taste grace and walk free from the condemnation of the law.

That’s not to say the law has no purpose for a Christian. Jesus-followers study the law because it shows us how God thinks and what he values. We learn from the law what pleases God and what offends him. Fulfilling the law as it applies to current living becomes a desire rather than an obligation.

In the end, though, it’s one of God’s great mercies that the law is made not for us, but for lawbreakers and rebels. As long as we walk the path of discipleship, we have nothing to fear from the law.

on all occasions

I was in a discussion a while back with some friends about prayer time. In general, each of us had a designated time but we all struggle to keep it. Life, it seems, easily overtakes those time commitments.

Maybe we’re looking at it wrong. Paul advised this in Ephesians 6:18: “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.” 

He made this recommendation right after describing all the elements of the armor of God, suggesting prayer is a key part of readiness for spiritual warfare. But the phrase “all kinds of prayers and requests” means it isn’t meant for just that.

Is it possible to pray my way through the day? To basically keep in constant contact with God?

I read once about a monk, relatively senior in his monastery, who requested a transfer to the scullery. He wanted to spend his day washing dishes because that was an activity that would free his mind for prayer. He recounted the immense benefits he experienced from communing with God through his entire day.

That seems daunting, but there’s no doubt that he met Paul’s standard of praying in all occasions.

Can I do that? Can I pray when I’m busy and when I’m bored? Could I enter meetings praying for respectful dialogue and a successful outcome, pray for each person as we do business, and then thank God for our productivity as I leave? Would it really be so hard to ask for wisdom as I start a project, and discuss it with God as I work through it?

I think it comes down to mindfulness, which is the hard part. My mind is always active with multiple trains of thought, so I know I could do this. But I just don’t think of it.

I’d like to try. I just don’t know how to discipline myself to start.

not a hint

I remember a time when my wife was trying to get my daughter to eat onion. She would hide a fragment in the middle of a hamburger, but Amber would still taste it and reject her food. All it took was the slightest trace of onion.

I thought of that this morning as I read Ephesians 5:3: “But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people.”

When I picture my impurities as onion fragments in the hamburger, I realize how much sin I’m willing to tolerate. I can definitely handle a little bit; in fact, I’ve put up with a fair amount at different times of my life. As long as it’s mostly beef, I’m good. In fact, there have been times I’ve bought into the idea that purity is boring, and everyone needs some sin in their lives to be interesting.

Paul says that’s not right. He says I shouldn’t tolerate even a hint of impurity. He says my standards are too low, and as a result I’m disappointing Jesus.

I need to react to sin like my daughter did to onion. Sometimes you can learn important lessons from your kids.

worthy

Did you see Saving Private Ryan? Remember the scene in the cemetery at Arlington, when Private Ryan, then an older man, visits the graves of the men who came to get him? Remember when he turns to his family and says, “Tell me it was worth it?” Ryan, in that moment, expressed the uncertainty we all have, that our lives amounted to enough to make it all worthwhile.

I was reminded of that this morning when I read Ephesians 4:1: “As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

What does that mean? Well, here are a few unworthy things that I think we do all too often.

Too often we’re proud. We insist on being recognized and we resent being disrespected. But verse 2 says, “Be completely humble.”

Too often we’re harsh. Our words can be mean, and our actions intimidating. We honk and gesture, we mumble under our breath. But verse 2 also says to be gentle.

It’s hard for us to wait our turn, or to wait at all. We’re the nation of instant gratification; we want our food fast, we pay extra for next-day delivery. And when it comes to each other our fuses can be pretty short. Here’s another tidbit from verse 2: “. . . be patient, bearing with one another in love.”

And we’re really good at forming cliques. We like people who are like us, and we tend to band together. We keep out people who aren’t like us. And we’re pretty quick to take sides and attack people on the other side. But here’s Paul’s admonishment from verse 3: “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.

Is my life worthy of my calling? Well, am I humble and gentle? Am I patient and forbearing with others? Do I try hard to keep the peace? Are my attitudes prompted by love?

Some days, yes. Too many days, no.

prayer for the outsider

The church done well is the closest we’ll see to heaven on earth. But it’s an unfortunate truth that for generations, much of the American church was mostly heaven for well-educated and experienced men. Influence has been exercised by those with seminary training, those voted into church office, and a handful of wealthy, generous givers. Traditionally, mostly older men. That’s given all of us a chance, at some point in our church lives, to feel left out. For many, their chance never comes.

This morning, as I read through chapter 3 of Ephesians, I’m thinking of all the women who have served faithfully in traditional (read “kitchen, nursery and Sunday School”) roles while longing to be more involved in discipling. I’m thinking of everyone who ever felt too young or too under-educated to be taken seriously in a congregational meeting. I’m thinking of everyone who has ever felt like an outsider during worship or fellowship because they were culturally, ethnically or racially different. 

I’m thinking of the Christians my brother works so faithfully with who face persecution in their home countries but witness and preach anyway. I’m thinking of all our black and brown-skinned brothers and sisters who are being told right now that talking about race is divisive and distracts from the gospel. I’m thinking of every woman, child or young person who ever got that patronizing pat on the head or the outright command to be quiet and listen.

For all of you, here’s the prayer that Paul prayed for the new Gentile Christians struggling to figure out how to worship with Jews this Jewish savior. It’s my prayer for you today, from Ephesians 3:14-21: 

“For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge —that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

May you find in Jesus all the belonging you long for, because when you do that we’ll want to be in your church.

we are one

I read once that in the temple of Jesus’ day there was a wall that separated the Gentile court from the temple itself, and that wall was posted with signs. Those signs said any non-Jew who went past would be killed. That’s how serious the Jews were about keeping others away; in fact, a riot once started over the rumor that Paul had taken a Gentile into the temple.

That was before Jesus. Paul explained the difference in Ephesians 2:4-5: “For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations.”

In Jewish religious terms of that time there were only two kinds of people, so this verse means that Jesus intended that everyone everywhere was now to be included in his kingdom. He went to the cross to make us all one.

Sometimes when I read this I think we’ve spent the last couple of centuries trying to build those walls again. We can be relentless in finding and emphasizing the differences between us, and we work almost as hard to create havens for our group. It’s sad that we too often think our haven is only safe when we exclude other people. 

When it’s just cliques this is bad enough, but in our churches it seems we struggle even more with racism and sexism than the general population does. We’re divided into so many denominations that I can’t keep count. What does Jesus think of all of this?

Jesus sees one kind of people, the ones God made in his own image and Adam led into corruption by the Fall. Jesus loves his own, but he loves the unsaved just as fiercely. I can’t imagine how sad it makes him when, instead of going to make disciples, we circle the wagons and protect what we have.

It’s a caution to me today to look beyond all the characteristics I usually focus on. If I look for it, I can find the image of God in everyone.

chosen

There was a period in elementary school where, in the pickup games we played during recess, I was always chosen last. In fact, if there was an odd number of players, sometimes I wasn’t picked at all. Later on I got to be one of the fastest kids in my class, and my small motor skills improved a lot, but for a few years I knew what it was like to be unwanted. And I still cringe when I see it happen to some poor kid.

I think of that every time I read the first few verses of Ephesians, especially this from Ephesians 1:3-6: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.”

I spent so many years trying to be good enough to be picked, so it’s amazing to think that God chose me a long time before I could demonstrate any worth. He decided before there even was a planet earth that sometime in the 20^thcentury of its existence he would put on it a Greg Steggerda. And in that moment of deciding he already claimed me as one of his. He intended from the very beginning, in fact from before the very beginning, that I would live a life of grace and mercy, of love and joy and peace.

Isn’t that amazing! The more I think about it the more it boggles my mind. And the more it makes me feel good. Really, really good.

building people

Of all the things that Jesus turned upside down, I think our understanding of authority is at the top of the list.

I’ve had a lot of bosses and been boss to a lot of people. I’ve worked beside many more people who had authority over others. Most of the time leaders see their team as just a means of getting work done – they stop at the basic employment contract of “you work, we pay you.”

There are ladder-climbing careerists who see the backs of others as the rungs on their ladder. To them, people are to be expended in pursuit of promotions. Other leaders claim to be empowering their workers when what they really do is isolate them.

But Paul understood authority – here’s what he wrote at the end of a letter of admonishment to the Corinthian church (2 Corinthians 13:10): “This is why I write these things when I am absent, that when I come I may not have to be harsh in my use of authority—the authority the Lord gave me for building you up, not for tearing you down.”

In Jesus’ kingdom, leadership is a gift; some people are gifted to lead just as some are gifted for hospitality or teaching. Since all gifts are given for the good of the group, the authority that comes with a leadership position must be used to help people grow. 

The function of authority is to build people up, not tear them down. Leaders who diminish others don’t really understand their authority; they aren’t true leaders. 

But here’s the thing. Anyone who has one person looking at them as an example is a leader. Anyone who has influence over a single other person’s thoughts and actions has some authority. So really, this is guidance for all of us.

If you find yourself tearing someone else down, you’re wrong. That’s not why you’re here. Building people up is a part of the purpose for all of us.

sufficient grace

I’ve had a lot of reminders lately of my weaknesses. In fact, it’s been kind of a deflating couple of weeks, one of those periods when you wonder how you got so out of synch with the people around you and whether you’ll ever get things sorted out.

But Paul had a word of encouragement for me this morning, writing to the Corinthian churches about his own weakness. When he brought it to God, here’s what happened, from 2 Corinthians 12:9: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”

I guess one way to look at it is I’m giving plenty of opportunity for God’s power to be made perfect. But more to the point, I can see a way through the feelings of inadequacy I’ve sometimes had recently. I don’t have to do it; I just have to fall back on Jesus and trust him to change me. He can make me into what he calls me to be, if I follow faithfully. 

In this, as in all things, his grace is sufficient. It doesn’t fix everything immediately, but it’s enough and more than enough to go forward with.

masquerade

It’s kind of sad that I know so many euphemisms for faking it. Gold bricking – that’s an old Army term. Mailing it in, I think, comes from sports.

Paul evokes the old idea of plays – he was a Roman citizen fluent in Greek, so he likely had a passing knowledge of Greek theater. He calls it masquerading, which is when players put on a mask to become something they really aren’t. Here are his exact words, in 2 Corinthians 11:14-15:

“. . . Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants also masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve.”

It’s a stark truth: there are fakers in the church. In the Corinthian church, it was false preachers. We have some of those too, the ones who like the attention and the status that they get from teaching and preaching. There’s something attractive about all the attention we get from being in front of other people, and being acknowledged as someone who knows things.

More likely are the pew-sitters whose minds and hearts harbor dark thoughts and desires even as they pretend to honor God and love their spouses and work for the kingdom. Depending on who you believe, anywhere from 15% to half of the people in church for any given service don’t actually have a faith that impacts their life choices. They have a lot of reason for being in church – other’s expectations, the hopes of connecting with potential customers or clients, the need to appear upstanding, a simple desire not to be in conflict with family. 

It’s good that they are in church, I guess, but the problem is when they influence our ideas through the conversations we have and the input they give. 

There’s a simple test that Paul gives for knowing who’s masquerading and who’s genuine. The voice that acknowledges Jesus as Lord, combined with the life that shows the fruits of the Spirit, is likely to be genuine. 

It’s a good test for me, as well.

waging war

There are lots of chances to fight these days; in fact, it seems like we’ll fight about some pretty unimportant things. But those of us who carry the name “Christian” have to be careful about our fights, and about how we fight.

Paul said this, in 2 Corinthians 10:3-5: “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

Christians have a lot to fight against, but it’s not those dumb other people. We fight two things. We demolish arguments against the faith, and every pretension that sets itself up against God. That means we go to war on ideas, not people. The most sinful person is just another image bearer who bought into some bad ideas. 

But we don’t use the same weapons the world does. The world uses guns and tanks. The world uses snark and sneering. The world uses lies and gossip and innuendo and fake news. But we use love, as expressed in the message of good news that we bring.

The other big difference is that, in comparison to the world’s take-no-prisoners attitude (meaning any wounded enemies are finished off), we take captives. Those captives, Paul says, are our thoughts. Every thought we have has to be obedient to Jesus. That’s the only way we’ll be thinking right and therefore able to go to war against those bad ideas.

It’s a different way of fighting, but it’s critical that we do it this way. Attacking arguments and pretentious ideas, fighting against anything that sets itself agains the knowledge of God, and doing it only in love, with all our thoughts captive to Jesus – that’s the way we win. It’s so different, the world has no response for it.

abundance

How much should I give? It’s a complicated question, because on top of my regular expenses I have retirement savings goals, plus I want to be able to support my family if necessary.

But there are so many good things to give to. Our church sponsors a number of ministries and missionaries, but there are also organizations like World Vision and the Red Cross. No matter how much I decide I can contribute, there will always be more needs than I have money.

Or will there? Is that really true? Here’s what Paul said to the church in Corinth, in 2 Corinthians 9:8: “And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”

If I really believe Paul, then there is enough. Not just if I plan right; he said in all things at all times. All things – ministry, mission, life, service – and at all times: when life is easy, when medical bills are piling up, when business is poor, when a bumper crop happens when the markets are up. None of that matters. With God, there are always abundant blessings. 

Do I make God too small? Is my faith stunted? I think it might be, at least when it comes to giving.

equality

What is equal treatment? Is it when everyone has and does exactly the same things? That seems to be what some people think, that something like socialism or communism can ensure that each of us has an equivalent house and gets one car, and so forth. Some families approach it that way: when one kid gets a bike, every kid does.

I’m more in favor of equality of opportunity; everyone has the same opportunities and will make different lives out of them depending on effort and ability. I like this idea because it rewards hard work and excellence over mediocrity, but there are some problems with it. It opens the door for highly-capable people to take advantage of less capable ones. 

Paul takes an interesting angle on the topic in 2 Corinthians 8: 13-15: “Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality, as it is written: “The one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little.”

Paul is looking at equality from the hardship end of things. He seems to be saying that one key purpose of a community is that no one is in need; to some extent there’s an obligation, or at least expectation, of good citizens that they will use their wealth to ensure no one goes without.

What’s interesting is that, to Paul, this is cyclical. I don’t think he’s an advocate of the welfare state; he seems to expect that at some point everyone will need help. When you have plenty you can supply those who don’t, but at some point you’ll need something and then you have every right to think the community won’t leave you hanging.

That’s how things actually work if your community is the church. In a healthy church, there are some people who are good at making money, but they’re also very generous with it too. In large part, these wealthy people enable ministry in that they can be the chief source of funding in their churches. Yet they too benefit greatly from fellowship and pastoral care ministries that meet the kinds of needs money can’t. 

To Paul, equality seems to be more an idea that no one is left behind. Everyone contributes according to her gifts and is provided according to his needs. I’ve seen that work, but it only really works in communities of Christians. In churches.

The challenge for me, then, is to contribute all the things I’m able to. And then to let the church help me when I need it.

contaminants

Paul has a simple, yet difficult, response to Jesus. Here it is, in 2 Corinthians 7:1

“Therefore, since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God.”

It’s simple in its logic: since Jesus did all these things and God promises all these other things, then the best way for us to react is to perfect our holiness. We should, Paul says, purify ourselves from everything that contaminates us, body or spirit. That’s how we show our reverence for God.

It’s devilishly difficult to do, though. There are a lot of things that contaminate my body: unsaturated fat, processed flour and sugar, saccharin, mono sodium glutamates . . . I put that stuff in every day. Most people do, so it seems unavoidable. But Daniel, offered the daintiest delicacies Babylon had to offer, pushed them away and ate fresh fruits and vegetables instead. It’s not undoable, I just don’t want to do it.

And how about all the stuff that contaminates my spirit? How about some of those jokes at work? The memes on social media? The books I read and movies I watch. The gossip I listen to and complaining I do?

Purity is difficult. It may be the most difficult goal I’ll ever tackle. But, as Paul says, it’s the only appropriate response to amazing grace.

in vain

You know those classic “other-guy” moments, when you hear a sermon or read something in scripture and immediately apply it to some other guy? Sometimes when that happens, you end up realizing it was actually about you. Oh, maybe the other guy too, but it was about you.

This morning, I had a moment like that as I read this, from 2 Corinthians 6:1-2: 

“As God’s co-workers we urge you not to receive God’s grace in vain. For he says,

‘In the time of my favor I heard you,

and in the day of salvation I helped you.’

I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.”

Initially, I was glad not to be one of those people who received God’s grace in vain. I could think of a couple of other guys, but it wasn’t me.

But then I started wonder what it meant, to receive grace in vain. My first thought was that it applied to people who put their faith in Jesus just to get out of being punished for their sin; they wanted the benefit, but didn’t want to put in the work and sacrifice of a life of discipleship. 

But, if they were getting the benefit, how was it in vain for them? There must be something else.

The thing some people never have is the joy of an obedient life, the wonder of the fruits of the Spirit growing in them, the satisfaction of significant effort toward the most worthy goal there is. Those poor people don’t know what blessings come from being all in for Jesus.

That’s when that annoying little voice in my head said, “Yeah, but . . . .” It reminded me of all my joyless days. It reminded me that my work on my own sanctification had kind of stalled. It pointed out that the most significant efforts I make go toward building the kingdom of Greg.

Is it possible that in some way I’ve received God’s grace in vain? That I’m a Christian for purposes of salvation, but less so for a life of discipleship?

Maybe I need to reread 2 Corinthians 6.

home away from home

I travel regularly to a couple of cities, and I stay in the same hotels every time. I would guess I’ve spent hundreds of nights in the Hampton Inn in Owasso, Oklahoma in the past few years. People call it my home away from home, but they’re wrong. Oh, I have a home away from home, but that’s not it.

My home away from home is my own body, as Paul explains in 2 Corinthians 6: “Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight.” 

He explained this in the preceding five verses: “For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.”

This isn’t my real home. I like to think of myself as a soldier, deployed forward for a peace-keeping and nation-building mission. The sooner I get it done, the sooner I get to go home.

The truth about deployed soldiers is they think of home all the time. They long to go there. They can’t wait for those precious moments talking to their family members back there. And that’s a great analogy for Christians. We too think longingly of our room in our Father’s mansion, and look forward eagerly to our regular chats in the meantime.

That’s how it should be, anyway. Unfortunately, too often we like it here. We don’t consider this a hardship tour; we’ve gone native. We’d like to stay when our tour is over, marry a nice local girl or guy and settle down with the people who really do live here.

It’s a thing we need to fight. Just as soldiers carry photos of their loved ones in their helmets, we should have reminders that we look at every day, things that connect us to our family and friends at home. 

We’re not home, we’re on assignment. Let’s be sure not to go AWOL.

jar of clay

There's a ton of blessing in a life walked with Jesus, and any committed Christian will see and do amazing things. We are, after all, more than conquerers. 

That's kind of hard to get my mind around, because I know myself to be something less than that. But Paul gives me a reminder this morning that both cautions and encourages. Here's an excerpted synopsis from 2 Corinthians 4:7-18: 

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. . . . Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Treasure - that is, the wonderful reality of a redeemed life, with all its joys and hope - in jars of clay. That's a great description of our human bodies and minds. We're serviceable but not particularly impressive. When used for the purpose the potter formed us for, we're very functional, although easily broken if mishandled. 

People don't usually keep treasures in clay jars, but God does. In fact, he pour his most valued possession, the life of his only Son, into his human, formed-from-clay image-bearers. Nothing he has is too precious to be shared with us. 

That's encouraging when life scars and cracks and otherwise weakens my jar of clay. I'm a carrier of the most valuable treasure earth has ever known: the gospel of Jesus Christ. My Lord thought this humble pot was a fit vessel for his use. And one thing we know about God is that when he calls someone to be or do something, he will make them into exactly that.

A jar of clay, filled with treasure.

unveiled faces

Sometimes it’s fun to see all the new identities that we have once we commit to Jesus. Here’s another one: the ones with unveiled faces.

The veil represents the inability we used to have to see grace and mercy when we were under the law. The way Paul explains it is kind of complicated, but here it is, from 2 Corinthians 3:12-18: 

“Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away. But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”

The hope that is referred to by the very first word, “Therefore,” is the glory of Jesus’s new ministry that no longer condemns us, but makes us righteous. So what Paul refers to as the veil  is the lack of knowledge about Jesus that makes us able to see only the requirements of the law. The guilt and hopelessness we feel keeps us from seeing the hope we have in Jesus.

So, us Jesus-followers have had the veil removed! We see Jesus, his sacrifice, and our redemption. We see grace! What a blessing!

That makes us the ones with unveiled faces. I think that’s a cool name.

fools

Along with the many other things that have become culturally normal is the belief, or maybe non-belief, of atheism. As with so many other human ideas, this is one that challenges my faith. Our culture says I must tolerate it, and on one level I’m happy to do so; every person, regardless of whether they share my faith partly or completely, is a child of God, and is worthy of respectful treatment for that reason alone. 

But I still struggle with what I call the “Car Keys Dilemma.” I feel that if I see a person doing something self-destructive, it isn’t an act of love to let them continue. The same basic decency that would lead me to take a drunk person’s car keys should prompt me to want an atheist to come to know Jesus the way I do. 

Because here’s the truth, from Psalm 53:1: 

“The fool says in his heart,

‘There is no God.’

They are corrupt, and their ways are vile;

there is no one who does good.”

Pretty harsh language, because I know many atheists and I like all of them. In general, I find them to be highly educated, compassionate, interesting people. They do a lot of good things because they value an orderly and fair society.

But the fact is denying God is a vile, bad thing. Ultimately no person has hope apart from God. To scoff at God as superstition is to encourage others to turn their backs on their creator and redeemer, and to put their souls in jeopardy.

Along with respecting their inherent dignity as image-bearers, I want to respect the beliefs of my atheist friends. But I’d never let them drive drunk. Do I dare let them live without hope? Doesn’t that make me a fool too?