Promises Kept

My oldest son is a big fan of the animated movie Cars that came out a few years ago, and he has a bunch of the little toy cars that match up with the characters in the movie. And for whatever reason, he loves to use mom and dad’s bed as a racetrack. And almost every morning when I’m getting ready for work, he asks me: “Daddy, will you race with me a few times around the bed?”

Every dad loves to hear that his little boy really wants to play with him. But in these situations, I’m usually trying to balance getting ready for work on the one hand while trying to help some with the other two kids getting up and around on the other. So I’m not usually swimming in time to race Lightning McQueen around my bed several times—all while making the appropriate sound effects, of course.

So how do I deal with this? Often, I say something like, “Sure buddy. In a minute.” And there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. But notice: what I’m really doing there is making a promise—a promise to play with him when I have a second. It’s not huge, but it’s a promise nonetheless.

But you can guess the problem. Every once in a while, I become preoccupied with the things I need to do to get out the door. And with my attention on those things, I end up not fulfilling my promise to him.

Is my son emotionally devastated when this happens? No. But he can be disappointed. And if you think about it, his experience with me failing to play with him is like a little microcosm of what we all experience all the time: people letting us down by not keeping their promises.

In fact, it happens often enough that you don’t exactly need to be a pessimist to expect people to fail in keeping their promises. Athletes guarantee wins, roommates say they’ll clean up dishes, businesses promise delivery dates, spouses make wedding vows, parents tell their kids they’ll always be there. And all to often, what happens?

Against that background, it’s helpful to remind ourselves of God’s track record with the promises he makes. There are a lot of places we could go to do this, but let’s start with Abraham. If you’re familiar with Abraham’s life, you know that God actually makes a handful of really important promises to him. For example, in Genesis chapter 12, God tells Abraham that he will give him many descendants, making him into a great nation. But there’s a significant hurdle: Sarah is barren. Consequently many years pass with no children. Yet God appears again to promise Abraham and Sarah that they (at a combined age of 189!) will have a son.

Genesis 21 tells us what happened:

Now the LORD was gracious to Sarah as he had said, and the LORD did for Sarah what he had promised. Sarah became pregnant and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the very time God had promised him. (Gen. 21:1-2)

As I mentioned, this isn’t the only significant promise God makes to Abraham. In Genesis 15. God promises that Abraham’s descendants (who will become the nation of Israel) will possess the land of Canaan. But again, there’s a problem. As the generations pass, the children of Israel become slaves in Egypt, far away from their promised home.

Most of us know the story, so we’ll pass over the incredible details involved in how God rescues his people and ultimately brings them into the Promised Land: jaw-dropping plagues, parting of the Red Sea, food from heaven and water from rocks, city walls crumbling, etc. Suffice it to say, God again kept his promise. In fact, Joshua, the man who led Israel when they eventually took possession of the land, would even say this:

You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the LORD your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled; not one has failed. (Josh. 23:14)

And then there’s this passage. I’ll include parts of it and as I do, see if it bears a familiar ring to you.

3 He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4 Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
………
7 He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before her shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
………
9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
nor was any deceit in his mouth.

When we read these words, I suspect most of us figure out pretty quick that it’s talking about Jesus. After all, Jesus was despised and rejected by men. He was led like a sheep to slaughter and he went silently, without complaint. He was pierced for our transgressions—he was nailed to a Roman cross. And like this passage says, he was even assigned a grave both with the wicked (he was crucified between two thieves) and with a rich man (he was laid in the tomb of a rich man, Joseph of Arimathea).

But here’s the interesting thing. That passage wasn’t written after Jesus was crucified. It was written by the prophet Isaiah, hundreds of years before that event. You can find it in Isaiah chapter 53. You see, through Isaiah, God was making a promise. He was promising a Savior for his people, someone who would bear the punishment their sin demanded.

And God, of course, kept that promise. He kept it even though he had to send his own son to die a horrible death for people who didn’t deserve it.

By now you get the point. God simply doesn’t make empty promises—however improbable they may seem to us. It may require him to do things that we can scarcely imagine: parting a sea or raising a dead man to life. It may be something that he fulfills only after centuries of waiting. And it may be something that costs him horribly. But God always—always—keeps his promises.

Why is this important for you and me? I’ll mention three things quickly.

The first is simple but crucial. Reminding ourselves of the many promises God has made and the great lengths he’s gone to keep them should give us great confidence. It should give us confidence in the promises he’s made to us, some of which he will fulfill in the future.

So when God makes a promise…

…that he truly forgives our sins when we trust in Christ,
…or that, for those of us who love him, he’s literally working everything in our lives for our good,
…or that he’s near to us when we’re brokenhearted,
…or that even though we die, he will one day raise us up in new life,
…or that we’ll eventually be with him in a new heavens and earth where “there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain” because he’s set everything right

…we can know for certain that he will keep them.

Secondly, if our God is so faithful in keeping his promises, shouldn’t we strive to do the same? Shouldn’t we reflect his character in this way and be people of integrity, whether it’s a promise to play cars with a child or to be faithful to your spouse?

That, if you think about it, is a tall order, and so it leads me to my final point: we need to remember two more promises that God gives us. First, he promises us gracious power to help us live as we should and reflect his character more and more. Secondly, when we fall short in this area—and we will—he promises to remain faithful even when we aren’t. He promises to forgive us and to continue loving us.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever” (Psa. 136:1).

The Power of One Christ-Centered Mind

There was a time not all that long ago when I really thought I knew a thing or two about the Bible. Not all that long ago, I would confidently dive into any and all theological discussions/debates that happened to pop up within earshot. Not all that long ago, I allowed myself to be somewhat satisfied with the fact that I had read the entire Bible, cover-to-cover, three whole times!

Yeah...those days are gone forever.

In the Fall of 2009, I began taking graduate-level courses at Covenant Theological Seminary and very quickly learned two immensely-valuable and practical lessons: 1) I know next to nothing about the Word of God; and, 2) striving after more intellectual knowledge about God could easily be rendered futile for several reasons, chief among them the inherent danger that knowledge tends to "puff up" (1 Corinthians 8:1-3) and, perhaps more importantly, knowledge of God apart from a deepening relationship with Jesus Christ is spiritual suicide. After all, Satan and his demons have a far better theology of God than you or I could ever hope to achieve (James 2:19). Fat lot of good it does them.

Not all that long ago, I was confiding one of my own battles with a particularly besetting sin to a married couple who have been faithful to Christ far longer than I have. One of the pieces of advice they gave me to combat my outward demonstrations of unbelief was to "endeavor to think Paul's thoughts after him" and try to imagine what must have been going on inside the Apostle Paul's heart and mind as he labored under tremendous duress and difficulty (2 Corinthians 11:22-30) to plant churches, spread the gospel to the Gentiles and in all ways glorify Jesus Christ...all of it while living under the long, dark shadow of the destruction he had previously wrought in the lives of his fellow believers (1 Timothy 1:12-15).

Though I listened with the very best of intentions, I nevertheless effectively ignored this wise counsel for some time by using the ever-popular yes-I'll-definitely-get-around-to-doing-that-sometime-soon dodge.

Turns out, though, this was some pretty darn good advice. In God's great providence, I am now being "forced" to read page after page of biographical information and commentary on the life of Paul as part of this semester's coursework at Covenant. (In addition to His infinite patience, our Lord clearly has a razor-sharp sense of humor.)

So...to rather-brazenly sum up almost 2,000 years of critical scholarship in one simple sentence: The Apostle Paul was - by all accounts - a brilliant man. World class. Far beyond anyone that you or I have ever met...or ever will meet. The recitation of his qualifications contained in Philippians 3:4-7 is fairly impressive in and of itself, but then to realize that he considers all of these valid, meritorious achievements to be worse than rubbish (3:8) in light of the knowledge of God found in Jesus Christ is, I think, to understand that Paul has grasped something so far superior to earthly wisdom that he is happy to burn his diplomas from the University of Gamaliel-Jerusalem ("Go, Vipers!") and head off to Asia Minor to start a few churches and endure tremendous suffering along the way.

No one trashes a lifetime of dedicated learning on a whim, especially those at the very top of their game; clearly, Paul had found a vastly superior source of knowledge.

Back here in Nov. of 2010, one of the more challenging texts currently being shoehorned into my tiny little brain this semester is A Theology of the New Testament by George Eldon Ladd. Perhaps not surprisingly, Ladd devotes roughly a third of his pages to understanding Pauline thought and doctrine. In a section entitled "Humanity Outside of Christ," he begins a discussion on how Paul uses the Greek word kosmos, a word that has no Hebrew or Aramaic equivalents (and is thus somewhat more difficult to interpret accurately in every usage). "Paul uses kosmos with a variety of meanings. He uses it first of all to designate the universe - the totality of all that exists (Rom. 1:20; Eph. 1:4; 1 Cor. 3:22; 8:4, 5)."

Ladd goes on to offer his opinion that Paul associates this single word - kosmos - with five different meanings, but it is interesting to note that whenever the word (again, in Paul's usage) is applied to humankind, the word takes on "overtones of evil." While acknowledging that human beings are God's creatures and that God's work is always good, the rebellion of mankind is such that even our ability to apprehend (i.e. attain knowledge) is fallen, tainted by sin, and hostile toward God. Ladd continues:

Intellectual attainment of knowledge and wisdom is not denied to this world; but the highest intellectual and rational achievements of humankind cannot attain to the knowledge of God and are therefore ultimately foolish. There is no necessary deprecation of human wisdom and knowledge as such; but as a means of acquiring the knowledge of God, inasmuch as the very mind of the race is perverted by sin, it is folly; such knowledge can be acquired only through revelation. The "spirit of the world," i.e., the whole outlook and orientation of the life of the world, is on a different level from that of the Spirit of God (1 Cor. 2:12). Therefore, the wisdom of this world can never commend a person to God, for it is foolishness; and when one depends solely on the attainments of human wisdom, he or she inevitably will be led astray from the knowledge of God (1 Cor. 3:19). The principles of the world, which include human speculations and traditions and even religion, are antithetical to Christ (Col. 2:8).
[See page 438 in Ladd; all emphases mine.]

Characterizations don't come much stronger than "antithetical to Christ."

Ladd, I think, is simply trying to echo Paul and affirm that human knowledge can, in and of itself, be a very good thing. It's good (for example) to know how to fix a water heater, how to develop new drugs in the battle against cancer, how to play the violin, etc. None of these things are bad things...it's just that none of these things will - by themselves - bring us into closer relationship with God. That type of knowledge is only, ever, and exclusively held out to humankind through the open, nail-pierced hand of Christ. Our relentless desire to turn away from Christ and pursue merely-human knowledge is, ironically, one of the least-intelligent traps we all tend to fall into (1 Corinthians 3:18-20). Paul is clear on at least one thing: We can pursue knowledge and, in the process, become utter fools.

Christians are oftentimes accused of being anti-intellectual, anti-science, and so forth. Honestly, this perennial complaint drives me completely nuts. I have seen more than one faithful believer bullied and cowed into sheepish silence simply because he or she did not immediately have the ability to refute one or more anti-God assertions. As if the declaration "I am a Bible-believing Christian" is automatically to be rendered as "The merits of the faith stand or fall on my own personal ability to defend each and every single action and doctrine of the church from 40 A.D. to present." While we should be able to defend our beliefs, we are not all called to be as scary-smart or well-educated as Paul. So the question should never be "Do I have the right answer here and now?" The question is, and always ought to be, "Will this unbiblical, anti-God assertion really stand up in light of 2,000 years of historical-critical analysis?"

For my part, I'm going to confidently vote "No."

Having just passed ever-so-briefly over the jaw-dropping scope and depth of New Testament scholarship this past semester, I am indeed grateful for an enhanced ability to deconstruct arguments that tend to paint Paul as someone who was "more concerned with starting a new sect of Judaism" than he was with worshipping the risen, glorified Lord. More powerful than that, perhaps, is an enhanced appreciation for how many "really smart people" across all of human history have been utterly undone, even without their very own Damascus Road experience (Acts 9:1-19). We should be unmoved by clever-sounding arguments of unbelievers (2 Corinthians 10:3-5), praying for more of them, and regularly inviting those brilliant unbelievers to church, encouraging them to meaningfully engage with Paul...and His Lord.

1 Corinthians 2:1-5 (ESV)
"Proclaiming Christ Crucified"

---

And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.

---

P.S. A personal note to anyone who has ever thought they might want to receive more solid, reformed Christian teaching in their spare time: Set aside an hour or two sometime soon, pour yourself a mug of coffee, and visit Covenant Seminary's Worldwide Classroom and/or Resources for Life. Load up you iPod (or whatever) and really dig into some of this stuff; it's all excellent and it's all completely free. You won't end up with a Covenant degree doing it this way, but you will for sure grow in grace and wisdom.

The First Sunday of Advent: November 28, 2010

November 28 marked the first Sunday of Advent 2010. Advent (which means "coming" or "arrival") gives us an opportunity to reflect both on the story surrounding Christ's birth as well as his promised return. It is marked by moments of quiet waiting and joyful expectation.

We began our Advent celebration by meditating on the prophecies of Isaiah and singing songs that focused our gaze on Christ, the Coming Light who "breaks into the darkness of our lives, bringing newness, life and hope."

This week's photos are by Scott Myers. You'll find links in the song titles that will allow you to purchase recorded versions of the songs (where available).

The Christ, Our Light by Martin Reardon

Throughout the Bible we see that God uses the metaphor of light to describe his character, particularly in regards to His Son, the Light of the World. With this gathering song we remember the darkness of our hearts apart from Christ.

When all was dark and without dawn
You gave us Light, you sent your Son.
The Christ, the Christ, He shines, He shines
and drives all dark away, away.

Joyous Light - Words by unknown author, late 3rd -early century 4th century; translated by John Keble, 1834, alt. Arrangement and additional chorus by Chris Tomlin, David Crowder and Louie Giglio.

Joyous Light was adapted from the Phos Hilaron, one of the earliest known hymns in Christendom. The Phos Hilaron was sung by the early church to celebrate the Risen Lord.

Hail Gladdening Light, sun so bright
Jesus Christ, end of night, alleluia.
Hail Gladdening Light, such joyous Light
O Brilliant Star, forever shine, alleluia.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel - LM 88 88 (Veni Emmanuel) / Words: Latin, 12th Cent; tr. composite / Tune: "Processionale:, 15th cent. ; adpt. Thomas Helmore, 1854

When we sing O Come, O Come Emmanuel we recall the prophecy of Isaiah 7 and how God's promise to deliver his people from bondage and sin was fulfilled in Christ. We also sing longing for Christ's return where he will "redeem all of creation and rule with power and authority."

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here,
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
shall come to thee, O Israel!

The following are links to the scriptures that were read between verses to this hymn.

Isaiah 42:5-7, Isaiah 11:1-4, Isaiah 9:2, 6; 2 Corinthians 4:6 , Isaiah 42:1-4, Micah 7:8-9

You Are the Light by Matthew Smith and Jeff Pardo (based in part on a hymn text by Charles Wesley)

This new song by Matthew Smith echoed the themes found in O Come, O Come Emmanuel.

Visit, then, this soul of mine,
pierce the gloom of sin and grief.
Fill me, Radiancy Divine,
scatter all my unbelief.
More and more Yourself display,
shining to the perfect day.

Agnus Dei by Martin Reardon

One of the ways we prepare our hearts during the Advent season (and throughout the year) is by willingly coming before the Lord in humble repetnace for our sins. We did this in silence and with this song based on traditional liturgy.

Jesus, Lamb of God,
who takes away the sins of the world,
Have mercy on us.
Have mercy on us.

Come, Lord Jesus (An Advent Song)

In Christ's death and resurrection, death has been swallowed up in victory and we live with the hope of His second Advent.

You will flood our souls with light,
Bring the broken world to rights,
as You swallow death with life,
we will be singing,
Come Lord Jesus, come redeem us
we will wait for You.

Nothing But the Blood - Words and Music by Robert Lowry

This classic hymn reminds us that there is nothing that we can do to rid ourselves of the guilt of sin. Our broken souls are redeemed, rescued and restored by Christ alone.

Nothing can for sin atone,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Naught of good that I have done,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

The Mystery of Faith - Words: Traditional english liturgy, Music by Scott Johnson and David Wilton

Christ has died,
Christ has risen,
Christ will come again.
Emmanuel, Emmanuel
Christ will come again.

Music Team for November 28, 2010:

Taylor Bonderer - violin
Lacey Burrell - vocals
Sadie Currey - violin
Nick Havens - bass guitar
Rachel Johnson - Reader
Scott Johnson - acoustic guitar, vocals
Andrew Luley - drums
Shane Murphey - cello
Jeff Myers - vocals
Ethan Vizitei - piano, organ

For more information about music written by members of the music team for corporate worship visit The Crossing Music. You can also find us on Twitter and Facebook.

My Only Real Need

Earlier this year, I went on a mission trip to Jamaica with my three teenage girls. I came home from that trip deeply sobered by the embarrassingly-rich way in which we Americans live. That one-week experience of being dropped into an entirely different culture may not have changed everything I do, but it for sure had an impact on how I think about my possessions, how I spend my money, and how often I say “I need” when referencing just about anything.

I got up at 3:00 a.m. earlier today to take our three girls out hunting for "Black Friday" deals, the official start to the 2010 Christmas shopping season, and we wandered around various stores for nearly five hours before heading home in time for breakfast. So, I guess it’s not surprising I feel worn out. Not from lack of sleep, though; I felt worn out by the battle going on for my heart’s affection - the earthly and temporal calling to my restless heart.

I walked out of the first store this morning with two plastic shopping bags of deeply-discounted items. As I walked out and threw the two bags into my van, preparing to drive to another store and continue, I was reminded of the Jamaican women I met in the infirmary (a government-run nursing home of sorts), most of whom have so very little that they are quite literally able to keep all of their possessions in a couple shopping bags just like the two I’d just thrown into my vehicle.

My two bags represent the first stop in what would be several stops, on the first shopping trip of what will inevitably be several shopping trips over the next month. Their two bags represent everything they have in this world.

As I moved on to other stores, I kept looking around at the abundance of stuff - piles and piles of clothing, stacks of dozens of games and dolls, televisions displayed floor to ceiling, kitchen appliances and gadgets lined up for perusal. As I looked around this morning, taking it all in, I felt vaguely as if I were surrounded by depravity.

I’m not suggesting it’s a sin to go shopping, nor do I think it’s sinful to purchase something you want if you don’t strictly “need” it. But for me, as I walk around a single store absolutely over-stuffed with shiny new merchandise and trendy new clothing, knowing there are dozens just like this one within my reach today, I often find myself tempted to think I need at least some of it. Or that it’s a wise use of my money to snatch up these great deals up and take them home. They are, after all, such a good buy for the money today!

In other words, I’m tempted to become very me-centered in a way that doesn’t fit reality. The truth is, I don’t need any of these things, and neither does anyone in my family. Not in any true sense of the word. “Need” was, I think rather helpfully, redefined for me this last year inside the dirt-poor interior of Jamaica, yet every time I go shopping, I find myself tempted to return to an old definition - “need” as defined by the relentless American desire for the newest, best, trendiest or most fashionable.

Yesterday evening, as our Thanksgiving holiday was waning, our family watched the live-action version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with Jim Carrey. The opening scenes of that movie, if you’ve not seen it, show all the inhabitants of Whoville running around like mad with lists of “needs” they are buying for family and friends, in order to celebrate Christmas. At one point the crowd of shoppers are driven into a frenzied stampede by a vendor shouting, “For the next five minutes...everything is 99% off!” Later in the movie, The Grinch sneeringly informs the Whos that most of their gifts to others very quickly end up at the top of Mt. Crumpitt - the city dump. In other words, all of their shopping and gift-giving is a senseless waste of time and effort, as it’s simply too much. It’s not needed.

I’d like to laugh at this caricature of American culture...but it’s simply too close to the truth to be funny.

I participated just this morning in a very “Who’esque” sort of shopping experience; I’ve already confessed that I didn’t come home empty-handed. I picked up a few gifts, took advantage of a couple “really great deals” and replaced my broken coffee pot (which still brewed coffee…so was it really broken enough to replace?). I know I don’t “need” any of those things, and yet that’s where my time, money and energy went this morning.

I know I need a nap, but I think I also need something else - I continue to need to be drawn closer and closer to my true Need this Christmas.

Fortunately, I have two things working in my favor today to remind me of that Need: firstly, I have the Holy Spirit, Who is drawing these conclusions in my heart, even using simple family movies to convict me. Secondly, I have an example of someone living out this Need in the women from the infirmary in Jamaica. Those who keep all their possessions in two shopping bags know far better than I that their lasting possession is not in those bags...but in Christ. Today, I am thankful that in the midst of the Black Friday sales, Jesus saw fit to remind me of my friends in Jamaica, and my only real need.

Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

The Embarrassment of the Church

Somewhere along the way, you may have heard the objection. The gist goes something like this: “You tell me that I should follow your Jesus. You say that he’s the very definition of what ‘good’ is. And you even claim that he turns lives around. But if that’s all true, how do explain all the terrible things his followers have done?”

It’s a good question. The history of the church is, after all, a decidedly mixed bag. One can read about all sorts of shameful episodes: unjust wars waged “in the name of Christ,” a startling variety of racism, both the energetic defense and tacit endorsement of slavery, tone-deaf responses to a range of human tragedy, the uncritical confusion of country and the Kingdom, an Inquistion and witch trials, etc. These are just the more spectacular examples. To these situations, we could all the mundane hypocrisy and ugliness that constantly percolates within the community of Christ (and, more fundamentally, in our own hearts). It’s enough to make one embarrassed of the church.

So how are we to respond?

One obvious (but limited, see below) point to make is that not all those who have committed such acts were/are genuine Christians. As church historian John Woodbridge has noted, “There are many true Christians in visible churches, but just because a person is a part of a church doesn’t necessarily mean he or she is a follower of Jesus. Some people are cultural Christians but not authentic Christians.” (quoted in Strobel, The Case for Faith, 200).

This is not simply a modern rationalization. The idea that a distinction is to be made between authentic Christians and those who falsely identify themselves with the faith is both ancient and biblical. Consider the following passages:

Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. (Mat. 7:15)

For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. (2 Tim. 4:3-4)

But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow in their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep. (2 Pet. 2:1-4)

These passages and others support the notion that there will always be some who are in various ways identified or associated with the Christian faith despite an absence of a genuine adherence to the gospel of Jesus Christ. This being the case, one may legitimately ask how many of the evils associated with the Christian church were actually perpetrated by those who were not true followers of Christ.

Perhaps a more important point to make, however, is that inauthentic faith can by no means account for every failure associated with the church. Simply stated, we must admit that Christians—genuine Christians—have been guilty of many reprehensible acts throughout the history of the church.

This, no doubt, would not come as a surprise to the biblical writers. They are clear on two facts: (1) while Christians have genuinely been made new and are no longer slaves to sin (e.g., Rom. 6:4-7), (2) they still battle sin and often fall short (e.g., Rom. 7:21-25, Gal. 5:17, 1 John 1:8, James 3:2). One instructive example of this can be found in Paul’s letter to the Galatians. There, he speaks of the need to confront his fellow apostle (!) Peter for acting in a way that seriously contradicted the heart of the gospel (see Gal. 2:11-16).

In short, the Bible itself, is extremely realistic about our inevitable failure to represent Christ faithfully. It is important to note, however, that this recognition is not accompanied by an endorsement or minimalization of such sin. Rather, the expectation is that fellow believers, as in the example of Paul, will confront the error when necessary, and the offending party will humbly acknowledge and repent of the sin.

So what should we expect to find in the church? Saints? Yes, but not spotless saints. Rather saints that make progress, but remain in continual need of God’s grace. Until Christ returns, the church must be, as the Protestant Reformers memorably put it, semper reformanda, always reforming.

A final thought is helpful when considering the historical failings of Christians: the proverbial other side of the coin. Amidst the truly reprehensible acts, the great good accomplished by those who have been inspired by Christ has often been relegated to the background in the discussion of Christianity’s merit. And yet Woodbridge notes that reflection upon Christianity’s contribution to civilization would reveal

vast humanitarian impulses that have been inspired by Christ’s life and teaching. Roman Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants—all have been deeply involved in helping the poor, the disadvantaged, the disenfranchised. They’ve been willing to work against their own personal interests to serve others. Losing all of that—all the missionary work, all the hospitals, all the homeless shelters, all the rehabilitation programs, all the orphanages, all the relief organizations, all the selfless feeding of the hungry and clothing of the poor and encouraging of the sick—would be a devastating blow to the world.…Christians have given their minds to God, and their literary, musical, architectural, scientific, and artistic contributions, if taken away, would render the world more dull and shallow. Think of all the great educational institutions that Christians built, including Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, which were originally conceived and constructed to advance the gospel (Strobel, Case for Faith, 218).

Passing Glimpses at Eternal Gratitude

Many Christians can tell you precisely when, where, and under what circumstances they gave their life to the Lord. "I accepted Jesus Christ at a Campus Crusade rally in October of 1976," or "My husband and I both became Christians after our eldest son witnessed to us in 1994," or something along those lines. I suspect we all know people with life stories similar in character (if not in exact detail). Learning about the dawn of faith in the life of any individual believer is one of those time-honored traditions that never seems to get old; what could be more exciting, after all, than to find out how God has been at work in someone else's life? It's almost the Christian equivalent of saying "Hello" for the first time.

Although I, too, can point to an exact date when God powerfully intervened in my life, I would be somewhat less able to say for certain when I first realized that I was actually excited to be counted, along with Paul and James, among the bondservants of the Lord Jesus Christ (Romans 1:1; Titus 1:1; James 1:1). I can tell you, with complete confidence, that powerful, physical cravings for daily regimens of alcohol and drugs simply "vanished" after a desperate prayer for help, muttered under my breath, to a God I did not know, on an early-evening flight from San Francisco to Kansas City on July 23, 1997...but how that miraculous event ultimately led me to the Person and work of Christ is still something of a mystery, even to me.

While I think my history of godless living prior to July of 1997 makes me even more keenly aware of my own unworthiness, I recognize the truth that not one of us will ever live a life worthy of eternal fellowship with God (Romans 3:9-20). I have to wonder, then, how often any of us pause to consider how very incredibly unlikely it is that God would actually want to be in relationship with any of us, and how beyond-measure-grateful we should be for the gracious reality of His love?

As we head into Thanksgiving, it's considered appropriate to slow down a bit and take time to recall all the blessings we enjoy and, naturally, I would affirm that it is both fitting and proper to do so. This year, though, I've had even more reason to recall many of the Lord's blessings in my life, somewhat ahead of the "normal" Thanksgiving season of rehearsed gratitude.

Just the other night, for example, I was lying down in my bedroom when I distinctly heard my four-year-old son singing the doxology to his mother as part of his nightly bedtime routine. All of the obvious blessings contained in that moment began to fold in on top of one another until it almost became more than I could bear. I suppose it was just a momentary flash of insight for me, but as I began to count up the odds stacked against my ever hearing a son of mine sing God's praises to my wife...well, it nearly crushed me. At that particular moment, I happened to be in a fair amount of physical pain, truth be told, but all of those secondary concerns were washed away in the time it took for him to sing aloud:

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!
Praise Him, all creatures here below!
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Amen!

This was not some rote recitation, either...our boy was clearly not going to be denied his chance to boldly sing the doxology all by himself. As I lay there in the dark, this unspeakably rich blessing flowing over my soul, it occurred to me that my own, ongoing sense of thankfulness toward God is hopelessly pathetic.

Given the life that I was leading up until that amazing day in July of 1997, the odds against my ever hearing the soft beauty of a small child's voice praising his Maker while my wife lovingly tucked him into bed are beyond incalculable. The millions upon millions of contingencies that had to be carefully managed by a loving and sovereign God to bring that moment to life are quite simply beyond anyone's ability to fathom. (And as if that's not enough, the kid has memorized some pretty awesome theology to boot!)

How quickly those moments of deep, deep gratitude tend to fade! How soon our attention is diverted away to the crushing, often-trivial demands of the day. And how inexplicably slow we oftentimes can be to share those moments with another. In a world consumed with fear and uncertainty, why do we not instinctively rush to share these moments of God's grace with others, store them up in our hearts and give thanks for yet another totally-unmerited blessing? Perhaps my own unimpressive recordkeeping is unique, but I confess that my ability to "warehouse the graces of God" in my life is, at best, scattershot. I wish I were better at recognizing, and then sharing, and then remembering, the over-the-top abundance of God's mercies in my life.

We Americans typically spend Thanksgiving Day looking around at our own little worlds and thanking God for the people and comforts He has mercifully brought into our lives. While that is a great way to begin, Christians, I believe, enter into the year-end holiday season with the added advantage of knowing Whom we should be thankful to...and why. So I guess I'd like to encourage anyone reading this to look beyond the physical/material blessings and be reminded of the Person Who provided them all (John 1:1-3), Who made peace with God on our behalf (Romans 5:1-2) and Who - for whatever reason - assures us that He will be with us always, even unto the end of the age (Matthew 28:16-20). We can have no way to know what our gratitude to Christ will look like in the Age to Come, but we can certainly be thankful for the small glimpses we get every now and then.

So it seems as though a true sense of gratitude and thankfulness arrived a bit early and unexpectedly for me this year. I say "unexpected" simply because my day-to-day life is as messy and hectic as most folks, I'd be willing to wager, and there is plenty to worry about, given half a chance. Now that I am the head of a blended family, with all of the unique issues that come with that, there really is no shortage of days when it can begin to feel like my problems are having puppies: "Is my job really secure?" "Will my health hold out long enough to raise my four-year-old...or will I perhaps live 'too long' and somehow become a burden to my children?" It's actually quite tragic how these thoughts - and many more just like them - can pervade our thinking and divert our attention so easily, yet how much more satisfying to trust in the Lord with all our hearts (Proverbs 3:5-6) and spend just a few minutes taking in the breathtaking display of undeserved grace represented by a child's song floating in from the next bedroom over?

Colossians 3:15-17 (ESV)
And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Psalms, Hymns and Spiritual Songs: November 21, 2010

This week's music set-list review features photos by Gerik Parmele and was planned and lead by guest worship leader Rhett Johnson. You'll find links in the song titles that will allow you to purchase recorded versions of the songs (where available).

O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing by Charles Wesley (1739), Contemporary chorus by David Crowder and Jack Parker

O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing was written by Charles Wesley to commemorate the one year anniversary of the renewal of his faith. Recently, David Crowder wrote a new chorus for the hymn that serves as a great call to worship.

So come on and sing out,
let our anthem grow loud,
There is one great love; Jesus

High Beyond Imagination - Words by John Newton (1725-1807), Additional Words by Scott Johnson, Music by Scott Johnson and David Wilton

This year the music team has been working to write songs for The Crossing to sing during our worship services. In keeping with the tradition of hymnody, it's been particularly exciting to create new music and arrangements for some of the lesser known texts such as, High Beyond Imagination.

High beyond imagination
is the love of God to man.
Far to deep for human reason,
fathom that it never can.
Love eternal, love eternal
richly dwells in Christ, the Lamb.

Come Ye Sinners -  Words by Joseph Hart (1759), Contemporary music by Matthew Smith

This rich hymn is a wonderful invitation to come to Christ and receive all the benefits of his grace.

Come ye sinners poor and wretched,
weak and wounded sick and sore.
Jesus ready stands to save you,
full of pity joined with power.

The chorus of Here is Our King by David Crowder established the theme of Christ as our redeeming King which was woven throughout all the songs before the message.

Here is our King, here is our love,
here is our God who's come
to bring us back to Him.
He is the One, He is Jesus.

Revelation Song - by Jennie Lee Riddle

This powerful anthem reflects the eternal song of heaven found in Revelation 4:8. In an interview about the song, songwriter Jennie Lee Riddle said that her prayer was to write, "a song that the angels and creation were already singing, so that we could join in with One Voice, as One Bride, to One King."

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord, God Almighty
Who was, and is and is to come.
With all creation I sing, "Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything and I will adore You."

Christ is Risen by Matt Maher and Mia Fieldes

Dave specifically asked to sing tChrist is Risen following his message this week. In it we boldly express our confidence in our strong Deliverer and Risen King, Jesus Christ, who has triumphed over the effects of The Fall.

O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light;
Our God is not dead He's alive,
He's alive!

Music Team for November 21, 2010:

Taylor Bonderer - violin
Nick Havens - bass
Rhett Johnson - guest music leader and guitars
Scott Johnson - piano and organ
Andrew Luley - drums
Kristen Pierce - vocals

For more information about music written by members of the music team for corporate worship visit The Crossing Music. You can also find us on Twitter and Facebook.

Unfamiliar With a Shelf-full of Bibles

In a book* I was recently reading, the author (Donald Whitney) recounts being part of a missionary team in East Africa several decades ago. The biblical literacy in this region of the continent was shockingly low, in spite of having several churches in the area. The preachers would generally have 6 sermons in their repertoire, which were simply recycled every 6 weeks. Why? Because they didn't have bibles.

So the missionary team raised funds to purchase bibles for some of the members of the local churches. The people were so hungry for the Word of God that daily evangelical meetings were supplemented by bible studies in the afternoons and then more bible studies by candlelight in the evenings.

After telling this story Whitney makes this condemning observation:

"It's one thing to be unfamiliar with Scripture when you don't own a Bible; it's another thing when you have a bookshelf full."

Did you know that the bible can be read straight through in 71 hours?

Do you know how long it takes the average American to watch 71 hours of television?

14 days.

How many self-proclaimed Christians haven't read their bible in the past 14 days? Yet, some Christians actually understand the necessity of and joy found in devoted bible reading. I wish I was more like the following man:

"We should all have the passion for reading God's Word of the man in this story. Evangelist Robert L. Sumner, in his book The Wonder of the Word of God, tells of a man in Kansas City who was severely injured in an explosion. His face was badly disfigured, and he lost his eyesight as well as both hands. He had just become a Christian when the accident happened, and one of his greatest disappointments was that he could no longer read the Bible. Then he heard about a lady in England who read braille with her lips. Hoping to do the same, he sent for some books of the Bible in braille. But he discovered that the nerve endings in his lips had been too badly damaged to distinguish the characters. One day, as he brought one of the braille pages to his lips, his tongue happened to touch a few of the raised characters and he could feel them. Like a flash he though, "I can read the Bible using my tongue." At the time Robert Sumner wrote his book, the man had read through the entire Bible four times."

If that man can discipline himself to read the bible - with his tongue - then surely you and I can do so with working eyes and hands. Whitney goes on to make a few simple suggestions of how we can discipline ourselves to read our bibles.

1. Remind yourself that the Word of God is your spiritual food. We can't physically survive long without food, why would we think we can spiritually survive without the Scriptures?

2. Find the time. He suggests the same time each day. If nothing else, I would say it needs to be scheduled like any other important meeting in your day. It may not be the same time each day, but when you lay down at night you probably ought to know when it's going to be the next day.

3. Use a bible reading plan. There are many out there. The Crossing has one, the ESV has multiple, the NIV does as well. Find one. He suggests using a plan which puts you in more than one section per day. For instance, a chapter in the OT and a chapter in the NT. Why does he suggest this? "Many who intend to read straight through the Bible become confused in Leviticus, discouraged in Numbers, and give up completely by Deuteronomy. But when you are reading in more than one place each day, it's easier to keep up the momentum."

4. Meditate. Find one word, thought, verse, or phrase in your reading to simmer in for the day. This will help you apply what you've read to your life and it will keep your time memorable.


* Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life by Donald S. Whitney

The Pride Of Unthankfulness

There is just something not right about driving to work in the dark and then turning right around and driving home again in the dark. I really struggle this time of the year as I generally prefer the outdoors. As Thanksgiving rapidly follows daylight savings time, I find very little time to adjust my mindset to that of being in a very “thankful” mood. I believe my general discontentment led to being caught off guard by a recent chapter in the book Respectable Sins by Jerry Bridges.

Bridges has a keen ability of exposing our tendency as Christians to almost surgically remove any sense of accountability for our self proclaimed “lesser” sins. With chapter labels like Discontentment, Anxiety and Frustration, Pride, Selfishness and Unthankfulness it sometimes feels like Bridges has been looking through my trash.

Our small group is currently working through the book together. It was fitting that our most recent assignment included the chapter on Unthankfulness. Consider this warning to the Israelites Bridges includes from the book of Deuteronomy;

“Take care lest you forget the Lord your God by not keeping his commandments and his rules and his statutes, which I command you today, lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the Lord your God...Beware lest you say in your heart, “my power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.” You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your fathers, as it is this day” (8:11-14, 17-18)

I know I have read this passage before, but for some reason I was deeply affected by the connection between unthankfulness and pride that just seems to jump out from these verses. Could there be a more applicable passage for us as we come upon the Thanksgiving holiday? Bridges makes the point throughout his book that we sometimes fall into the trap of labeling “bad” sins as those that affect others, while “good” sins we consider benign as they don’t harm anyone else. Unfortunately, this view flies in the face of biblical teaching.

Sins of the heart that place ourselves in the position of God seem to be especially offensive to our creator. For that reason, many theologians will argue that pride is the root of all sin as it essentially encourages us to “forget” God. Possibly the most tangible sense of our own pride may be our continual unthankfulness. Bridges cites Romans 1:21 in support of this argument. In this passage we see a connection between unthankfulness and an almost casual dismissal of the one true God.

“For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.”

My hope for us this holiday season would be that our thankfulness would serve as an offering to God. However, I wouldn’t stop there. Maybe our thankfulness has the potential to also serve as the greatest weapon against our own selfish pride.

LGBT Argues For Legislating Morality

Meet The Press is one of the Sunday political shows that I podcast so that I can watch it at the gym usually on Sunday afternoon. One of the guests this past Sunday was Senator John McCain, the former Republican presidential nominee. McCain had just returned from Afghanistan and was sharing his opinion on how the United States should move forward in that country.

Eventually, David Gregory, the host of the show, shifted the conversation a bit and asked McCain some questions regarding the military's controversial policy regarding homosexuals commonly referred to as "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." In the course of the conversation, Gregory played a portion of a video that seemed to show that McCain's wife, Cindy, disagreed with the senator's position on the subject. I later saw more of the 2:27 video on The Rachel Maddow Show (another newsy and political show that I podcast).

The video consists of a number of well known members of pop culture speaking out against the bullying of kids in the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) community. This campaign is in response to some recent suicides of students that were precipitated by bullying that occurred at school and spread via social media. I'd encourage you to watch the video especially the segment that starts 50 seconds in and continues to about 1:20. In those 30 seconds the message is that the government's laws shape how people view the LGBT community. If the laws were changed to be more accepting of people who identify with LGBT, then bullying wouldn't be so prevalent. That's what the video is arguing. Watch it for yourself.

Now here's what I find interesting. Many of the secular and non-religious people in our country argue that Christians inappropriately try to legislate morality. Even many Christians have been influenced by this kind of thinking and parrot the same message. But if I understand the message of this video correctly, it is arguing that we should legislate morality on behalf of the LGBT community.

The argument goes something like this: If the laws of our country prohibit members of the LGBT community from getting married, donating blood, adopting, and serving openly in the military, then we shouldn't be surprised when people bully and taunt them. Here's a quote: "The laws teach bullys that what they are doing is acceptable."



Now let me see if I've got this right. If Christians (and people of other religious faiths) argue against legalizing same sex marriage (and other related issues), they are chastised for inappropriately trying to legislate their own personal morality onto others. But if members of pop culture who support LGBT rights argue for legalizing same sex marriage (and other issues mentioned in the video), that's good, noble, and right. Does that seem like a double standard to anyone else?

I'll pick up this issue again in future posts but let me just say that I agree with this video on a couple of things. First, any kind of bullying is wrong. I'm happy to join with them and others in persuading people not to harass people because they self identify with the LGBT community. My reasons for not bullying are significantly different than their reasons but the bottom line is that all Christians can join them in condemning bullying.

Secondly, I agree with them that the law has a teaching effect. If the government passes laws that says something is legal, then most people are going to think that it is also morally right. The truth is that everyone wants to legislate morality they just want to legislate their morality. Consider the abortion issue. Pro-life advocates argue that if abortion were illegal, there would be fewer abortions because over time fewer people would want abortions. Laws against abortion would teach people that society thinks of it as morally wrong just like the current laws allowing abortion teach people that society thinks that it is morally permissible.

Now that Christians and the LGBT community agree that laws do (and should) shape the moral conscience of a nation I assume that Christians will no longer face the charge that they are inappropriately legislating morality. But now of course we are going to have to have a national discussion about what kind of moral standards we want to legislate.

Lorraine Barnett’s Story of Abortion and Redemption

This week, I’d like you to introduce you to Lorraine Barnett’s story. Her honesty may anger you or encourage you—or both. But I think Lorraine’s story is a challenge to each of us to recognize the real pain of our sin, and the real freedom of Christ’s redemption.

Here is Lorraine…

Jeremiah 31:15
“This is what the Lord says: A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”

When I was growing up, I loved the TV show “LASSIE” and I adored Timmy's mother in that show. That was what I wanted when I grew up—to be a stay at home wife and mother and bake cookies and love and care for my family and home. My ideal woman was my Granny. I couldn't wait to be just like her. She baked bread and quilted and did all those homey things. She was just a good woman.

When I was 16 years old, I fell “in love” and believed that I would marry this young man and live happily ever after. (My ideal life) My boyfriend's family was planning a move from our hometown, Rolla, Missouri, to another state. We talked about getting married so that I could move with him and his family. We actually told my parents one evening that we wanted to get married. They laughed at us and made him leave the house. So, my boyfriend and I decided on a plan for me to get pregnant so that my folks would let us get married. The plan worked beautifully! My boyfriend moved away with his family to another state, as planned..... and, as planned, I discovered that I was pregnant. Even though it was “planned” when I missed that first period, I was terrified. Every time I called his house, he was never there. After weeks went by, I actually ran away from home, rode the bus to his town and showed up on the doorstep in the middle of the night in the middle of an ice storm in January. When he finally came home the next day, I told him I was pregnant, and he told me that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore and that I should get an abortion.

I was beyond grief. I was being abandoned and thrown away by the one I loved and I faced a terrifying future. I didn't know anything, really, about abortion, but enough to know that it was wrong and illegal (this was before Roe v. Wade). I cried so much over the next 9 months that I really thought there could be no more tears in me. I was wrong.

When I finally faced my parents, they made it very clear how ashamed of me they were. I'd always gone to church with my folks but the Bible was never opened and I don't ever remember anyone praying at home. I always wanted to be a “good girl” but didn't honestly even know that I could have a real, personal relationship with God. My dad did teach a Sunday school class and when I got pregnant, he resigned from that position and told me it was because of the shame he felt because of me. I thought many times about taking my own life.

As my pregnancy continued once again, my teenage fantasies kicked in. I thought that once the baby was born, the baby would somehow “redeem my life.” The baby would love me and we would be best of friends and that life would be wonderful. I had no idea what babies are like or what they need. I was in over my head and I was a disastrous failure as a mother. The baby cried and it meant that even she didn't want me. I knew that I was a deeply flawed human being and so I became very self-destructive.

I was in a desperate search for someone to love me so I went from guy to guy, looking for Mr. Wonderful who would take all this mess and make it alright. Lots of them were out there....waiting for a girl like me.

Within 6 or 7 months of the birth of my child, a family member started talking to me about adopting my baby and eventually the adoption process was started. It was actually a relief for me. BUT I remember the battle in my head—it would for sure settle the matter that I was a terrible person, and not even “normal” because I couldn't even be a mom. I was such a mess—emotionally, physically and spiritually, though God was still only an afterthought to me at this time in my life.

About this same time, I discovered I was pregnant again. I was again thrown into a panic—like an animal caught in a leg-trap. The truth is that I actually believed the young man might ask me to marry him....but our relationship was nothing more than my created fantasy. When I told him that I was pregnant, he said, “Have an abortion. It's easy. I've done it before. Call this number. I'll pay half, you pay half.” I felt slapped across the face by his words. Abortion was wrong. . . wasn't it?? But who in the entire world would be happy if I told them I was pregnant? Who would welcome yet another child from me into this world? I could think of no one! I tried to put him off and kept stalling until, after he called me daily to get me to make the call, I did. So, the young man drove me to Kansas City, Missouri, and I offered my child to the abortionist. After the trip, I never saw the young man again.

Psalm 32:3,4
“When I kept silent about my sin, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night Thy hand was heavy upon me; my vitality was drained away as with the fever heat of summer.”

I never told another human being about the abortion for 30 years. I met and married my husband some years after the abortion but never told him about it. How could I tell him that I was so wicked? What if he would look at me and be repulsed by my horrendous sin?? I really lived in my own private hell for all those years. It was like a bag of toxic waste that I carried around with me. I tried to hide it carefully, but it affected everything in my life. I had no intimacy with God or with others.

I kept a barrier up between me and everyone else. I could not let you see the real me. I was so afraid that you would see me and be disgusted by what you saw. Surely, you'd reject me and leave me feeling even more wretched and unworthy. I felt really embittered towards young families—I would see young moms with their babies and I resented them. My husband and I remained childless for 11 years after our marriage; I am sure (but could not admit it then) from the scarring from the abortion. All the things I had wanted growing up, I had destroyed with my own two hands.

I pretended that “If I just never think about it again, never tell anyone, it can't hurt me.” But like David said, “For I know my transgressions and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned and done what is evil in Your sight.” (Ps. 51:3,4)

Finally, after many, many years, I was able to tell God, “Thank you for your forgiveness.” but I could not say any more than that to God. If I started to pray about it, then I would have to think about the details and I just couldn't face them.

I was terrified that the neat little life I had built would come crumbling down if I confessed my sin. One confession would lead to another and my whole world would be destroyed by that bag of toxic waste. So, it all stayed hidden. I just wanted it all to be “not so!” I wanted to look back at my life and see a different life, not the one I had filled with ugly secrets.

But someone else knew about the ugly secrets—“The Hound of Heaven” who pursued me and would not let me continue living in my secret world. God just stepped into my life....and showed me that HE knew it all and HE walked to the cross for me, knowing all that I had done!! I finally relinquished myself to God and began renewing my mind with His Word—with TRUTH. More and more I wanted that true intimacy with Him that I had never had. He brought thoughts of the abortion to mind over and over again, prompting me to confess it and let Him heal it. It took me years of false starts, but in 2001 God prompted me to go to the local pregnancy center and take their training. I knew I had no more wiggle room. So, finally, I went to the volunteer training...to “Volunteer!” I sobbed through the whole day's training. I was overwhelmed with joy that God had brought me there but I was also filled with fear for what lay ahead.

I signed up to take an abortion-recovery Bible study, but in the weeks before it began, I was just as scared as I had been when I was that 16 year old girl. I felt as if I stood at the edge of a precipice; below me was a chasm—dark, full of never-ending pain. If I took one step, I would fall forever into a pit of pain that would engulf me. I knew that all my neat little barriers would fall. I wanted freedom so much!!!! …but could not imagine freedom. I feared the pain I knew would never end.

After 30 years I took that first step and looked into the eyes of another woman and told her that I had taken the life of my own child. And instead of never-ending pain, I discovered the lavish love of the LORD that I had held at arm's length my whole life.

Psalm 30:2,3
“O LORD my God, I called to you for help and You healed me. O LORD, you brought me up from the grave; You spared me from going down into the pit.”

What I discovered was that the LORD had been holding out the forgiveness I so desperately wanted all those years. He waited for me to turn to Him, confess it all, repent, and receive the treasures of Heaven. He has truly renewed me, mind and soul.

Psalm 32:5
“Then I acknowledged my sin to You and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the LORD' and You forgave the guilt of my sin.”

The LORD took 30 years of ugly secrets and turned them into a powerful tool for His glory. And the endless pain I anticipated was really endless delights in the goodness of the LORD! I love Him so much. He has been so good to me! He has given me the privilege working in the crisis pregnancy center, talking to frightened young women, helping them see that they are not a mistake and that God loves them and has a plan for their lives and the lives of their babies. Maybe my greatest privilege of all is leading abortion-recovery Bible studies now for the last 8 years. I get to see God at work transforming lives one at a time...for His glory!

Psalm 30:11, 12
“You turned my wailing into dancing; You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give You thanks forever.”

More From "Orthodoxy"

I mentioned several months back that I had been reading G. K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy. I’d heard many people talk of Chesterton’s work in glowing terms, so I finally decided to at least take a step toward remedying my ignorance on the matter. I’m definitely not sorry I did, and I thought I'd take another opportunity to highlight a bit of his work. Following Chesterton's thought sometimes feels like trying to swim apace with a breaking wave. But in that rough and tumble, I was consistently provoked to see new connections, or old truths with new vitality. Consider this oft-quoted passage:

People feel that if the universe was personal it would vary: if the sun were alive it would dance. This is a fallacy even in relation to known fact. For the variation in human affairs is generally brought to them, not by life, but by death: by the dying down or breaking off of their strength or desire. A man varies his movements because of some slight element of failure or fatigue….Now, to put the matter in a popular phrase, it might be true that the son rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due, not to lifelessness, but to a rush of life. The thing I mean an be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore.

[Perhaps this is why my daughter can hit the button on the toy that plays the alphabet song again and again, long past the point when I’ve been driven to the very precipice of sanity. Of course, if Chesterton is right, maybe the real problem is with me, rather than with my two year old.]

As I indicated in the earlier post, I was also repeatedly struck by how relevant this book remains despite the fact that it was originally published over a hundred years ago. This is born out in a whole host of ways, but I’ll mention two examples. The first comes from Chesterton addressing the contention that all religions, at root, are one in what they teach:

The things said most confidently by advanced persons to crowded audiences are generally those quite opposite to the fact; it is actually our truisms that are untrue. …So the truth is that the difficulty of all the creeds of the earth is not as alleged in this cheap maxim: that they agree in meaning, but differ in machinery. It is exactly the opposite. They agree in machinery; almost every great religion on earth works with the same external methods, with priests, scriptures, altars, sworn brotherhoods, special feasts. They agree in the mode of teaching; what they differ about is the thing to be taught. Pagan optimists and Eastern pessimists would both have temples, just as Liberals and Tories would both have newspapers. Creeds that exist to destroy each other both have scriptures, just as armies that exist to destroy each other both have guns.

A second example finds Chesterton addressing three representative convictions that have led “many a sensible modern man” to abandon Christianity, including the idea that men are “very much like beasts, a mere variety of the animal kingdom”:

The only objection to them (I discover) is that they are all untrue. If you leave off looking at books about beasts and men, if you begin to look at beasts and men then (if you have any humor or imagination, and sense of the frantic or the farcical) you will observe that the startling thing is not how like man is to the brutes, but how unlike he is. It is the monstrous scale of his divergence that requires an explanation. That man and brute are like is, in a sense, a truism; but that being so like they should then be so insanely unlike, that is the shock and enigma. That an ape has hands is far less interesting to a philosopher that the fact that having hands he does next to nothing with them; does not play knuckle-bones or the violin; does not carve marble or carve mutton. People talk of barbaric architecture and debased art. But elephants do not build colossal temples of ivory even in a rococo style; camels do not paint even bad pictures, though equipped with the material of many camel’s-hair brushes. Certain modern dreamers say that ants and bees have a society superior to ours. They have, indeed, a civilization; but that very truth only reminds us that it is an inferior civilization. Who ever found an ant-hill decorated with the statues of celebrated ants? Who has seen a bee-hive carved with the images of gorgeous queens of old?...We talk of wild animals; but man is the only wild animal. It is man that has broken out. All other animals are tame animals; following the rugged respectability of the tribe or type. ...So that this first superficial reason for materialism is, if anything, a reason for its opposite; it is exactly where biology leaves off that all religion begins.

Wise and Approachable

When I was a small child, I would look up from the hardwood pews at First Baptist Church in Birmingham, Mich., and be momentarily awestruck every time the pastors walked in at the beginning of each Sunday morning service in their long, flowing black robes and - in unison - sat down up front, facing the congregation from their seats on the elevated platform leading to the baptismal.

I suppose it was probably the combination of the loud, swelling organ music, the impressive-looking Bibles in their hands, the ornate carved-wood seating and the aforementioned black robes that all served to unsettle me greatly...almost as if here - at last! - were the three scary-looking guys who were going to render summary judgment on everyone in the sanctuary (or, quite possibly, the entire world).

In the end, I think the net effect of attending thousands of services just like that was to (quite unintentionally) put a fair amount of "spiritual distance" between me and the leaders of the church. While I may have known somehow that the pastors up front were all indeed mere mortals, it would never have occurred to me to think of them as "frail, fallen" human beings, each with their own unique demons to battle. Certainly I would have scoffed out loud if any of my classmates had said something to the effect that those guys up there in the dark robes were just like you and me. "Heck, no, they aren't!" would have been my most-likely response; to my childish mind, these guys represented The Spiritual Elite in our midst, the mighty men of God who - for reasons I could not fathom - had deigned to spend some of their worship time amongst the rabble.

I have absolutely no idea if the pastors at First Baptist still wear long black robes. Different churches have their own unique ecclesiastical traditions, and that's all just fine and dandy. My personal conviction is that anything (visual or otherwise) that tends to separate and/or set apart church leaders from the other desperate sinners in the congregation can rather easily turn into a temptation for those leaders to "forget" that they, too, need the daily grace of the Lord Jesus Christ just as much as anyone else. My own road back to faith was providentially blessed by Crossing pastors who solidly identified with the congregation in their daily need of Christ, and I was (and am) grateful for multiple opportunities to discuss the finer points of Christian theology with someone who is not wearing any formal church vestments.

I am convinced that a key issue to effective ministry within the church is a seamless identification amongst all of the sinners living in God's Kingdom. Where the long, flowing black robes tended to put me off (or flat-out terrify me) and also served to make me think that there was no way I could ever attain the spiritual heights of a church pastor, the transparency of the pastors and educators I listen to nowadays is quite refreshing and serves, I think, to draw in a lot of people who might otherwise be too intimidated by a more formal setting. Those more-formal settings have their place, of course, within the Body of Christ, and now that I am no longer wearing short pants to Sunday School I can very easily appreciate soaring organ music, Christian hymns from the 15th century, and so forth.

This past weekend, I was in Virginia Beach attending a marriage conference put on by the Christian Counselors and Educators Foundation and, once again, I was struck at how all of the speakers and trainers were so gracious in their manner of readily identifying with sinners. I can't recall even one session in which the speaker failed to apply the book of Ephesians to issues that they themselves were struggling with in the present day or had struggled with in the recent past. Sitting in the audience, aware of their impressive credentials, it's still somewhat tempting to look up at the speakers and think of them as "spiritual giants," examples for all of us to emulate somehow. And while that is certainly true on several levels, the semi-regular reminders that we were being addressed by broken sinners who are still waging their own battles against the flesh helped to meld their obvious wisdom with an encouraging inside look at their own struggles.

During the conference, we watched a video that discussed the CCEF mission, that mission being to better equip church pastors and lay people to minister to folks wherever they may be in their own spiritual journey. The video made this point quite well as it talked about the often-dueling perceptions of "church as country club" or "church as hospital," and how the church very much needs to be a welcoming place for all who are broken, who desperately need repair...the last thing that broken people need is to feel judged, or worse, made to feel irreparable. Odd. Unacceptable. Whenever our own besetting sin is tempting us to despair, it seems like we all tend to want to "draw back" from those in the church who seem to have their act together. I know I do. "I'll come back to church - and the people in it - once I've patched myself back together a bit." (Ever tell yourself something like that?)

It's easy to forget - and very comforting to remember - that the ministry of Jesus Himself was built entirely within the midst of broken, desperate sinners. Jesus' public ministry was replete with young children running right up to Him and sitting in His lap. The blind would cry out to Him shamelessly; the unclean and the leprous all did the same. An old woman reached right out and touched the hem of His garment, desperate for healing. Tax collectors, prostitutes, Roman soldiers, you name it...Jesus was clearly very approachable by anyone and everyone. Although He knew no sin, He clearly sympathized with sinners in their plight and put up very few boundaries on His personal space.

Looking back now, I can see clearly that my childish perception of the daunting figures in the long, flowing robes was just that...the foolish perspective of a child. I don't recall ever telling my parents that I was in fact somewhat frightened by these guys, and that their Sunday morning wardrobe was getting in the way of my seeing them as real people. My Mom was even best friends with one of the pastor's wives, and so I had multiple opportunities to see "Pastor Bill" outside of his Sunday morning context, yet I also remember that every time I saw him "in his street clothes" the magisterial images cemented in my head by countless Sunday Morning Sanctuary Entrances came immediately to mind. "Yeah, no use trying to be a regular person like the rest of us, Pastor Bill; to me, you will always be the scary black robe guy."

One of the lasting benefits of this childhood recollection is a constant reminder to myself to never, ever drift into the practice of becoming Scary Black Robe Guy. The Bible tells us in no uncertain terms that knowledge puffs up (1 Corinthians 8:1) and that we need to watch our hearts very carefully so as not to (even unintentionally) put psychic and/or spiritual distance between those of us who may know a few things and those who know fewer. There really is no "pecking order" allowed in the Kingdom of God based on our knowledge or our performance; those who disagree with that statement may have lost sight of the fact that it does not matter if you miss the target by 18 inches or 18 miles...God's standard is perfection (Romans 10:14-17) and we all miss it. Whenever we are tempted to "put on black robes" with those who know less about Jesus than we do, it seems clear that we may have misplaced the truth that those of us who have been given the Truth of Christ have received this immeasurable gift for the express purpose of sharing it with those who have not heard (Matthew 5:17-20; Matthew 5:48). How will we fulfill this purpose if people are reluctant to speak around us for fear of "looking stupid?"

Yes, we should be excited to talk with others about Jesus, and we should be eager to learn more and acquire knowledge about the Bible and Christian theology. These are all very good things. But the adversary of our soul is (and always will be) smarter than any of us. He knows how to turn a good thing (knowledge about Jesus) into something that separates and divides. All he needs to do is whisper in our ear, informing us that we clearly know far more about Christianity than the other person. An awareness of surpassing knowledge is usually all it takes to make the conversation quickly become lopsided, the "scary guy in a black robe" kindly sharing his vast knowledge with "the seven-year-old in the wooden pew." For what it's worth, I'm thankful that I now find myself surrounded by other believers who, along with their own sins and failures, have the heart of Jesus for sinners like me.