I recently had a friend experience God's faithfulness in a long season of patiently waiting on His guidance. The following are some thoughts I had while considering his circumstances:
The more I experience life, the more I realize God's faithfulness is most richly evident and divinely sweet in the seasons of waiting. Actually, is faithfulness faithfulness without a wait? Not that God's faithfulness isn't faithfulness apart from a season of waiting, but we don't percieve it as such -or perhaps a different attribute altogether is manifested, or emphasized. If you have request A, and God provides the answer directly, is it His faithfulness that you appreciate most?
Let me explain it this way... Pretend you’re two again. It’s summertime. You’re on vacation with the family, and towheaded mini-you takes a wild, leap of bravado into the lake. No longer sure of your superior swimming abilities, you begin to panic. Water starts to fill your lungs and you begin to sink. You are sure the end is near when two strong arms suddenly wrap around your squirming body and take you safely to shore. Your rescuer is none other than good, ol' dad.
You always knew your father to be protective, but never before had you experienced it like that. Fact became felt reality. At the same time, your dad is still loving and gentle –and every other quality that comprises his character– but his protection is the only thing your little mind is consumed with at this moment. He kept you from drowning! So it is with the faithfulness of the Lord during and after a long season of waiting. You read and sang about His steadfast love all your life. But now you've seen it. Touched it. Been held by it.
Our God is a great and glorious diamond, with innumerable facets –and it is His gifts of life experiences which shine on those divine facets He has declared to us in His Word, giving them breathtaking beauty. In joy and trial, may you taste the splendor.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Sanctification Project - Final
I
My judgmental, critical spirit was my target in the sanctification project. I recognized this undesirable heart issue in myself a long time ago but never seemed to know how to handle it practically and effectively. Even as I began this project I struggled to create a biblical game plan. A critical spirit was, and is, often the source of frustration because I want to honor Christ by loving people well, but I am constrained by my depravity. In other sin issues I learned the thoughts and situations which instigated the sinful thoughts, actions, or behaviors; and to avoid the sin, I learned I must stop the instigators. But judgment comes so easily. It slides subtly under the radar of my conscience. I am typically unaware of my sinful heart until after the fact –the word spoken, the deed done, the thought complete.
II
The big-picture failure caused by this iniquity is simply, but deplorably, not living in the image of Christ. I fail to walk in His humility. I fail to love as He loves. I fail to care with His compassion. I fail to lay myself down. So when I react to a situation or person with a critical spirit, people do not see a humble, loving, compassionate Christ in me. They do not see the Christ who “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant,” the Christ who “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death” on the cross. The beauty of the Gospel, the Gospel which saved me, is tainted by my sin –not ultimately, but for that moment.
In judging others, I also fail to examine the log in my own eye. This is a complicated failing because I think my personal expectations were perhaps a subconscious justification for expecting much from others. The problem comes in that I do not meet my own high expectations –essentially perfection. On what grounds can I expect others to do so? So I guess the failure is not in examining the log in my own eye, but in examining my own ability and success in dealing with that log.
III
Apart from Christ, others are the primary sufferers from my sin. I guess that is the way it always is. At this point in my life, the victims are my family and friends. I love them dearly and desire so much for them to experience the joy of a life increasingly surrendered to the Lord. When I see seemingly unrepentant sin in their lives, I am concerned, knowing how easy it is for believers to grow hardened by subtle, sinful patterns. But my zeal turns sour when I am more concerned with conveying their sin than speaking the love and grace of Jesus Christ. I realize the truth must be spoken –but it must be spoken in love. And the latter is typically not even part of my thought process, let alone my words. This often has an adverse effect on the hearers –instead of drawing them to a merciful Christ, I drive them away from their judgmental sister. Unless the Holy Spirit intervenes, any words of truth I speak become as effective as clashing cymbals. All in all, I fail to edify my brothers and sisters. I fail to display the beauty of Christ to the perishing. I strip the hope from situations which could otherwise better bear joyful witness to the goodness and mercy of Christ’s redemptive work.
IV
Christ’s “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew 5-7 was one of the key passages in which I began my study on a judgmental heart. The Beatitudes brought to light my wrong, though valued, views of self-sufficiency. “Blessed are the poor in spirit…Blessed are those who mourn…Blessed are the meek” (Matthew 5:3-5 English Standard Version). Control freaks like me tend to esteem the pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mentality. If you see something that needs changed, fixed or accomplished, figure out the steps that need to be taken and do them. This mindset “Hulkinates” the virtue of responsibility and is contrary to Scripture. I was created for complete dependence on my Creator, not myself. I read the Beatitudes on multiple occasions, but never was I struck by my determination of the first three attributes as weaknesses. Poor in spirit, mourning, meekness –characteristics blessed by Christ and disdained by me. I did not value them in myself or others. Admittedly, it remains a war within my flesh.
V
The core heart issue is pride. Pride must be replaced with humility. I found Dr. Scott’s steps extremely helpful in understanding the pragmatics for working “out my own salvation with fear and trembling” in regard to my haughty heart (Philippians 2:12 ESV): pray for a divinely-searched heart, repentance from pride, and growth in humility; read the Psalms and Prophets; study Jesus; ask others if I seem prideful; spend focused time worshipping the Lord, centering on His love demonstrated at the Cross; practice the “one-anothers”; work with the Holy Spirit to exchange pride for humility; remember humility must become a way of life, a heart-set.
I said earlier, “I am concerned, knowing how easy it is for believers to grow hardened by subtle, sinful patterns.” Well, let me call a spade a spade. Concern is only a euphemism for fear. I fear the lack of spiritual maturation in my family and friends. This fear must be replaced with a deep trust in the Sovereignty of God. I need not try, nor can I control the salvation or sanctification of anyone.
The trio of characteristics from Philippians 2 must also replace the desires of my flesh to be served, to be praised, and to rebel. I must instead seek the heart of a servant, the heart of humility, and the heart of obedience.
VI
The most obvious cognation requiring transformation in a judgmental person would seem to be a judgmental thought. But I think there needs to some delineation. Judgment is not always bad. If I am to know people by their fruits, I must make a judgment. If I am to withhold pearls from swine, I must make a judgment. So I go back to my assertion that judgment must be evaluated by the heart motive behind it. I need the Holy Spirit to heighten my conscience that I may more quickly discern a wicked heart-set, leading to a speck-attacking judgment. In these situations, I must replace the attacking thought with a humble examination of my own weaknesses. If my thoughts reveal a desire to serve myself, I must intentionally seek to serve the other person and remember I am no better than him. I must look out for his interests. If my thoughts are schemes for self-exaltation, I must think of the humility of Christ and my dependence on Him. If my thoughts purpose to rebel, I must take them captive and replace them with the truths of God’s Word which they contradict. Compassion and mercy must replace judgment.
Another mindset in need of replacement is my expectation for perfection in myself and others. This is another form of pride but needs to be addressed in a specific manner. What is the pride of perfection? It begins with the arrogant supposition that God’s Word is wrong about the constant process of sanctification until glorification. This supposition must be supplanted with the truth of God’s Word. Hebrews 12:2 talks about life as a race in which weight and sin must be laid aside. Colossians 3 talks about the process of putting off and putting on. The battle is won, but it is fought until I am with Christ in heaven. Perfection also indicates a belief that my sanctification agenda is superior to the Lord’s. The supremacy of God’s thoughts in Isaiah 55:8-9 and His sovereignty over spiritual maturation in 1 Corinthians 3:7 are two truths which easily trump and settle any agenda superiority issue. Finally, perfection is the arrogant belief that I do not need God for growth in godliness. The simple remembrance of the reality of my depraved state and the truth of Romans 7:19 are the replacement mindsets for this belief.
The regard for self-sufficiency need also be eradicated and replaced. I must remember man was created to depend upon God from before the Fall. But mostly, I need to recall the Gospel. Going back to Philippians 2 and 2 Corinthians 5, Christ humbled Himself to the point of death on the cross that I might become righteous. 1 John 4:10, God “sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (ESV). In Christ, I am righteous. In Christ, I am free from sin. In Christ, I am an heir of God. In Christ, I am under no condemnation. In Christ, I can obey God’s law. Without Christ, I am nothing. The Gospel: self-sufficiency eradicator. Mission accomplished.
VII
The behaviors of the antithesis trio must all be replaced. Instead of saying things to serve myself, I must think of ways to serve others and do them. The specific actions could be a multitude of behaviors. I must look to the interest of others. Instead of speaking words to exalt myself, I must speak words that glorify Christ and edify others. I must lay down my life and my reputation. I must consider myself as nothing. Instead of choosing to rebel, I must choose to obey. This means knowing the Word of God so well that I can easily wield it as the mighty Sword against temptation.
VIII
As I mentioned above, sanctification is a process through which I must struggle until I am glorified with Christ. And Christ is glorified in the struggle, in the transformation. “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot…But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness” (Romans 8:7, 10 ESV). In Christ I have the power over sin, but its presence remains until His return.
My judgmental, critical spirit was my target in the sanctification project. I recognized this undesirable heart issue in myself a long time ago but never seemed to know how to handle it practically and effectively. Even as I began this project I struggled to create a biblical game plan. A critical spirit was, and is, often the source of frustration because I want to honor Christ by loving people well, but I am constrained by my depravity. In other sin issues I learned the thoughts and situations which instigated the sinful thoughts, actions, or behaviors; and to avoid the sin, I learned I must stop the instigators. But judgment comes so easily. It slides subtly under the radar of my conscience. I am typically unaware of my sinful heart until after the fact –the word spoken, the deed done, the thought complete.
II
The big-picture failure caused by this iniquity is simply, but deplorably, not living in the image of Christ. I fail to walk in His humility. I fail to love as He loves. I fail to care with His compassion. I fail to lay myself down. So when I react to a situation or person with a critical spirit, people do not see a humble, loving, compassionate Christ in me. They do not see the Christ who “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant,” the Christ who “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death” on the cross. The beauty of the Gospel, the Gospel which saved me, is tainted by my sin –not ultimately, but for that moment.
In judging others, I also fail to examine the log in my own eye. This is a complicated failing because I think my personal expectations were perhaps a subconscious justification for expecting much from others. The problem comes in that I do not meet my own high expectations –essentially perfection. On what grounds can I expect others to do so? So I guess the failure is not in examining the log in my own eye, but in examining my own ability and success in dealing with that log.
III
Apart from Christ, others are the primary sufferers from my sin. I guess that is the way it always is. At this point in my life, the victims are my family and friends. I love them dearly and desire so much for them to experience the joy of a life increasingly surrendered to the Lord. When I see seemingly unrepentant sin in their lives, I am concerned, knowing how easy it is for believers to grow hardened by subtle, sinful patterns. But my zeal turns sour when I am more concerned with conveying their sin than speaking the love and grace of Jesus Christ. I realize the truth must be spoken –but it must be spoken in love. And the latter is typically not even part of my thought process, let alone my words. This often has an adverse effect on the hearers –instead of drawing them to a merciful Christ, I drive them away from their judgmental sister. Unless the Holy Spirit intervenes, any words of truth I speak become as effective as clashing cymbals. All in all, I fail to edify my brothers and sisters. I fail to display the beauty of Christ to the perishing. I strip the hope from situations which could otherwise better bear joyful witness to the goodness and mercy of Christ’s redemptive work.
IV
Christ’s “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew 5-7 was one of the key passages in which I began my study on a judgmental heart. The Beatitudes brought to light my wrong, though valued, views of self-sufficiency. “Blessed are the poor in spirit…Blessed are those who mourn…Blessed are the meek” (Matthew 5:3-5 English Standard Version). Control freaks like me tend to esteem the pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mentality. If you see something that needs changed, fixed or accomplished, figure out the steps that need to be taken and do them. This mindset “Hulkinates” the virtue of responsibility and is contrary to Scripture. I was created for complete dependence on my Creator, not myself. I read the Beatitudes on multiple occasions, but never was I struck by my determination of the first three attributes as weaknesses. Poor in spirit, mourning, meekness –characteristics blessed by Christ and disdained by me. I did not value them in myself or others. Admittedly, it remains a war within my flesh.
Matthew 7:1-6 was another help, but not without bringing some confusion. Do not judge, Christ says. But neither should I give dogs what is holy or throw pearls to swine (ESV). Does the latter not imply judgment? I think one of this project’s umbrella lessons, as we educators like to say, is that the focus must not be on the how and when of judgment, but on the heart’s motives. If I go to my brother or sister after carefully examining the forest of logs in my own eye –and my inability to cut them out, my heart is right before God and man. But if I strike for the speck, my heart-set is flawed. And the reasoning behind my deliberate self-examination versus a direct attack intimates an even deeper heart issue. This root I found in Paul’s words to the church at Philippi.
Philippians 2:1-11, that beloved text on the humility of our Redeemer and King, became my most discerning, source-revealing tutor. I saw again the Beautiful One, who “made himself nothing, [took] the form of a servant” and “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death…on the cross,” as my perfect example (ESV). Service. Humility. Obedience. I am often the antithesis of all three, and my judgmental heart makes this fact painfully evident. Cristi wants to be served. Cristi wants to raise herself up. Cristi wants to have her own way. Cristi is proud. The servant looks to the interests of others. The humble makes herself nothing. The obedient lays down her life, her reputation, her agenda. The judgmental presupposes the interests of others. The critical regards her verdict as more important than the hearer’s heart. The controller elevates her agenda above the Lord’s. I am guilty of all three, on multiple counts. But my hope is in Jesus, who was “made to be sin…so that in him [I] might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21 ESV). My hope is in the “law of the Spirit of life that set me free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 8:2 ESV). My hope is in Jesus, “the founder and protector of [my] faith” (Hebrews 12:2 ESV).
V
The core heart issue is pride. Pride must be replaced with humility. I found Dr. Scott’s steps extremely helpful in understanding the pragmatics for working “out my own salvation with fear and trembling” in regard to my haughty heart (Philippians 2:12 ESV): pray for a divinely-searched heart, repentance from pride, and growth in humility; read the Psalms and Prophets; study Jesus; ask others if I seem prideful; spend focused time worshipping the Lord, centering on His love demonstrated at the Cross; practice the “one-anothers”; work with the Holy Spirit to exchange pride for humility; remember humility must become a way of life, a heart-set.
I said earlier, “I am concerned, knowing how easy it is for believers to grow hardened by subtle, sinful patterns.” Well, let me call a spade a spade. Concern is only a euphemism for fear. I fear the lack of spiritual maturation in my family and friends. This fear must be replaced with a deep trust in the Sovereignty of God. I need not try, nor can I control the salvation or sanctification of anyone.
The trio of characteristics from Philippians 2 must also replace the desires of my flesh to be served, to be praised, and to rebel. I must instead seek the heart of a servant, the heart of humility, and the heart of obedience.
VI
The most obvious cognation requiring transformation in a judgmental person would seem to be a judgmental thought. But I think there needs to some delineation. Judgment is not always bad. If I am to know people by their fruits, I must make a judgment. If I am to withhold pearls from swine, I must make a judgment. So I go back to my assertion that judgment must be evaluated by the heart motive behind it. I need the Holy Spirit to heighten my conscience that I may more quickly discern a wicked heart-set, leading to a speck-attacking judgment. In these situations, I must replace the attacking thought with a humble examination of my own weaknesses. If my thoughts reveal a desire to serve myself, I must intentionally seek to serve the other person and remember I am no better than him. I must look out for his interests. If my thoughts are schemes for self-exaltation, I must think of the humility of Christ and my dependence on Him. If my thoughts purpose to rebel, I must take them captive and replace them with the truths of God’s Word which they contradict. Compassion and mercy must replace judgment.
Another mindset in need of replacement is my expectation for perfection in myself and others. This is another form of pride but needs to be addressed in a specific manner. What is the pride of perfection? It begins with the arrogant supposition that God’s Word is wrong about the constant process of sanctification until glorification. This supposition must be supplanted with the truth of God’s Word. Hebrews 12:2 talks about life as a race in which weight and sin must be laid aside. Colossians 3 talks about the process of putting off and putting on. The battle is won, but it is fought until I am with Christ in heaven. Perfection also indicates a belief that my sanctification agenda is superior to the Lord’s. The supremacy of God’s thoughts in Isaiah 55:8-9 and His sovereignty over spiritual maturation in 1 Corinthians 3:7 are two truths which easily trump and settle any agenda superiority issue. Finally, perfection is the arrogant belief that I do not need God for growth in godliness. The simple remembrance of the reality of my depraved state and the truth of Romans 7:19 are the replacement mindsets for this belief.
The regard for self-sufficiency need also be eradicated and replaced. I must remember man was created to depend upon God from before the Fall. But mostly, I need to recall the Gospel. Going back to Philippians 2 and 2 Corinthians 5, Christ humbled Himself to the point of death on the cross that I might become righteous. 1 John 4:10, God “sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (ESV). In Christ, I am righteous. In Christ, I am free from sin. In Christ, I am an heir of God. In Christ, I am under no condemnation. In Christ, I can obey God’s law. Without Christ, I am nothing. The Gospel: self-sufficiency eradicator. Mission accomplished.
VII
The behaviors of the antithesis trio must all be replaced. Instead of saying things to serve myself, I must think of ways to serve others and do them. The specific actions could be a multitude of behaviors. I must look to the interest of others. Instead of speaking words to exalt myself, I must speak words that glorify Christ and edify others. I must lay down my life and my reputation. I must consider myself as nothing. Instead of choosing to rebel, I must choose to obey. This means knowing the Word of God so well that I can easily wield it as the mighty Sword against temptation.
VIII
As I mentioned above, sanctification is a process through which I must struggle until I am glorified with Christ. And Christ is glorified in the struggle, in the transformation. “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot…But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness” (Romans 8:7, 10 ESV). In Christ I have the power over sin, but its presence remains until His return.
For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin (Romans 7:22-25 ESV).
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Sanctification Project - Weeks 8-9
Saturday, October 30
The lessons I learned this week are pretty short and sweet. First, my preacher made a comment to the effect that we judge not the heart, but the fruit. This seems to be accurate, but I need to do some more biblical research for myself. Even so, it is very easy to cross the line from one to the other. But the big lesson came in reflecting on Dr. Scott’s manifestations of pride. It’s no real shock that pride is a problem for me. However, I did not quite realize how pervasive it was –nor how many of my behaviors were the manifestation of it. Obviously, this is the root issue which I must combat. A judgmental, critical spirit is merely a symptom of the disease. So I must study humility. Practice humility. Pray for humility.
Saturday, November 8
The final week of this “project” ended with no sanctified fanfare. No giant leaps toward humility. Instead it was a week when my flesh won out nearly every morning to sleep an extra thirty minutes rather than wake up and spend time with the Lord before heading to school to teach. And in those days, I saw my pride ever more active. That’s not a new revelation –I know the transforming power of God’s Word dramatically affects my response towards people and situations. So these past nine weeks in which I learned so much were concluded with the humble reminder that I need Christ just to get up in the morning. I need His Spirit for the revelation of His Word. The Sanctified Fanfare is not a piece I can write or perform. No, that beautiful work belongs to the Lord alone. And in His great mercy do I boast.
The lessons I learned this week are pretty short and sweet. First, my preacher made a comment to the effect that we judge not the heart, but the fruit. This seems to be accurate, but I need to do some more biblical research for myself. Even so, it is very easy to cross the line from one to the other. But the big lesson came in reflecting on Dr. Scott’s manifestations of pride. It’s no real shock that pride is a problem for me. However, I did not quite realize how pervasive it was –nor how many of my behaviors were the manifestation of it. Obviously, this is the root issue which I must combat. A judgmental, critical spirit is merely a symptom of the disease. So I must study humility. Practice humility. Pray for humility.
Saturday, November 8
The final week of this “project” ended with no sanctified fanfare. No giant leaps toward humility. Instead it was a week when my flesh won out nearly every morning to sleep an extra thirty minutes rather than wake up and spend time with the Lord before heading to school to teach. And in those days, I saw my pride ever more active. That’s not a new revelation –I know the transforming power of God’s Word dramatically affects my response towards people and situations. So these past nine weeks in which I learned so much were concluded with the humble reminder that I need Christ just to get up in the morning. I need His Spirit for the revelation of His Word. The Sanctified Fanfare is not a piece I can write or perform. No, that beautiful work belongs to the Lord alone. And in His great mercy do I boast.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Sanctification Project - Weeks 3-7
Sunday, September 28, 2008
This last week began with overwhelming discouragement. I hated sin in me. I hated sin in others. I hated the effects of a fallen world. I felt powerless to change. All my life, I have been very task-oriented and goal-driven. If I saw something in need of change, I took the necessary steps to make a change. It was change I could control. But sanctification, in myself and others, belongs to God alone. I desired so much to put off my critical spirit and put on the mercy of Christ. But I only found myself trudging about in the same muck. I was so disheartened. While I knew the Lord was teaching my independent heart to depend on Him in all things, I was afraid that I was on the verge of giving up on that promise.
Then I watched my lectures for the week before. Dr. Scott warned us to “beware of introspection.” He called it the “paralysis of analysis,” which potentially leads to morbidity. That was me! I am such a dogmatic legalist. I realized my whole life had become about being less critical. I knew better –and the absurdity is even more poignant as I type out the reality. Even with the best of intentions, I replaced Christ with the process of sanctification itself. Sanctification had become an idol. So I took a bit of a sebatical this week and tried to make Christ my focus. I was certainly much more joyful. Now to strike the balance…
Saturday, October 4, 2008
My "sebatical" seemed to extend into this week -but not necessarily in a good way. I tend to be so all-or-nothing, the pendulum swung from the extreme of micromanaging my sanctification to doing nearly nothing about my critical spirit. The occasional prayer. Minimal Bible-reading. I wish I had a better grasp on balance. I guess it's in my expectations -when I make an effort, I expect results. Silly expectation when it is the Lord "who works in [me] both to will and to do for His good pleasure." So perhaps the question is what does it look like to work out my own salvation with fear and trembling. I think the key is in the "fear and trembling" part. This week seemed unfruitful by my standards, but little me can't see the big picture. Staying tuned...
Saturday, October 11, 2008
In Sunday school and the sermon last Sunday, the phrase "the mind of Christ" kept coming up. I can't remember the passage that started it all, but I eventually came to Philippians 2. Paul writes concerning the nature of relationships within the church. He calls them to have the mind of Christ. A mind of humility. A mind of service. A mind of obedience. So do I seek this mind, trusting the Lord will work truth from my actions and speech, reforming and convicting as needed? What does it look to choose to be nothing while admonishing a brother or sister in sin?
This sin issue has really become prevalent in my move home to Smalltown America. For much of the community, church is a social responsibility or a smiley-face sticker on a holy behavior chart. Even in the church I attend there is a lack of true understanding and knowledge of God and His Word. I am grieved to see God sold short for something less than He is. (Though, I don't understand God fully, therefore don't worship Him wholly.) I think I'm trying to micromanage, seeking to protect my Lord's reputation. He doesn't need me to do so. And I don't think He asked me to -I guess that will be the study topic for next week. Anyway, I know He has called me to take the mind of His Son -the mind of humility, service, and obedience. So that's my prayer for the week...
Saturday, October 18
I was able to visit Grace this week. Pastor Flack was preaching on assurance; but in the process, he spent some time talking about a judgmental spirit. Assurance, he said, promotes humility. He also said it offers warnings, not verdicts. He then focused on the Matthew 18 process of church discipline. Here, judgment comes after a long process of confronting the individual, which always seeks restoration. Pastor Flack pointed out that the only sin judged by the church is a lack of repentance, the mark of an unbeliever.
It is always so sweet to sit under the solid preaching of God’s Word. And in divinely sovereign fashion, this message especially spoke to my heart, my sin. Cristi, take on the heart to warn out of love. Take on the heart of restoration. Be willing to wade into long processes of drawing sheep back and into the fold. Beware, Cristi, of judging anything but impenitence –and even then, look humbly at fruit. Take on Christ, Cristi. Take on Christ.
Saturday, October 23
Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands was a great instrument of God to teach me practical love. I was struck and convicted by so many things. But the big picture: I haven’t been seeking to help others change out of love. Love hasn’t been altogether absent, but it hasn’t been driving love. Not redemptive love. O, that I would understand and live God’s love! That I would remember that love is the foundation stronger than good theology!
My hope for the coming weeks is to implement Tripp’s idea of journaling about the issues and people with whom I struggle. Some of my identified groups don’t relate directly to my critical spirit, but I wonder if they might not help reveal underlying sin issues. So here’s the list: students who are slow to listen, small-town church goers, leadership in my local body, my little brother’s rebellion, and the judgmental words of others (ironic?). May the Spirit reveal my depravity and the Truth with which to combat it.
This last week began with overwhelming discouragement. I hated sin in me. I hated sin in others. I hated the effects of a fallen world. I felt powerless to change. All my life, I have been very task-oriented and goal-driven. If I saw something in need of change, I took the necessary steps to make a change. It was change I could control. But sanctification, in myself and others, belongs to God alone. I desired so much to put off my critical spirit and put on the mercy of Christ. But I only found myself trudging about in the same muck. I was so disheartened. While I knew the Lord was teaching my independent heart to depend on Him in all things, I was afraid that I was on the verge of giving up on that promise.
Then I watched my lectures for the week before. Dr. Scott warned us to “beware of introspection.” He called it the “paralysis of analysis,” which potentially leads to morbidity. That was me! I am such a dogmatic legalist. I realized my whole life had become about being less critical. I knew better –and the absurdity is even more poignant as I type out the reality. Even with the best of intentions, I replaced Christ with the process of sanctification itself. Sanctification had become an idol. So I took a bit of a sebatical this week and tried to make Christ my focus. I was certainly much more joyful. Now to strike the balance…
Saturday, October 4, 2008
My "sebatical" seemed to extend into this week -but not necessarily in a good way. I tend to be so all-or-nothing, the pendulum swung from the extreme of micromanaging my sanctification to doing nearly nothing about my critical spirit. The occasional prayer. Minimal Bible-reading. I wish I had a better grasp on balance. I guess it's in my expectations -when I make an effort, I expect results. Silly expectation when it is the Lord "who works in [me] both to will and to do for His good pleasure." So perhaps the question is what does it look like to work out my own salvation with fear and trembling. I think the key is in the "fear and trembling" part. This week seemed unfruitful by my standards, but little me can't see the big picture. Staying tuned...
Saturday, October 11, 2008
In Sunday school and the sermon last Sunday, the phrase "the mind of Christ" kept coming up. I can't remember the passage that started it all, but I eventually came to Philippians 2. Paul writes concerning the nature of relationships within the church. He calls them to have the mind of Christ. A mind of humility. A mind of service. A mind of obedience. So do I seek this mind, trusting the Lord will work truth from my actions and speech, reforming and convicting as needed? What does it look to choose to be nothing while admonishing a brother or sister in sin?
This sin issue has really become prevalent in my move home to Smalltown America. For much of the community, church is a social responsibility or a smiley-face sticker on a holy behavior chart. Even in the church I attend there is a lack of true understanding and knowledge of God and His Word. I am grieved to see God sold short for something less than He is. (Though, I don't understand God fully, therefore don't worship Him wholly.) I think I'm trying to micromanage, seeking to protect my Lord's reputation. He doesn't need me to do so. And I don't think He asked me to -I guess that will be the study topic for next week. Anyway, I know He has called me to take the mind of His Son -the mind of humility, service, and obedience. So that's my prayer for the week...
Saturday, October 18
I was able to visit Grace this week. Pastor Flack was preaching on assurance; but in the process, he spent some time talking about a judgmental spirit. Assurance, he said, promotes humility. He also said it offers warnings, not verdicts. He then focused on the Matthew 18 process of church discipline. Here, judgment comes after a long process of confronting the individual, which always seeks restoration. Pastor Flack pointed out that the only sin judged by the church is a lack of repentance, the mark of an unbeliever.
It is always so sweet to sit under the solid preaching of God’s Word. And in divinely sovereign fashion, this message especially spoke to my heart, my sin. Cristi, take on the heart to warn out of love. Take on the heart of restoration. Be willing to wade into long processes of drawing sheep back and into the fold. Beware, Cristi, of judging anything but impenitence –and even then, look humbly at fruit. Take on Christ, Cristi. Take on Christ.
Saturday, October 23
Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands was a great instrument of God to teach me practical love. I was struck and convicted by so many things. But the big picture: I haven’t been seeking to help others change out of love. Love hasn’t been altogether absent, but it hasn’t been driving love. Not redemptive love. O, that I would understand and live God’s love! That I would remember that love is the foundation stronger than good theology!
My hope for the coming weeks is to implement Tripp’s idea of journaling about the issues and people with whom I struggle. Some of my identified groups don’t relate directly to my critical spirit, but I wonder if they might not help reveal underlying sin issues. So here’s the list: students who are slow to listen, small-town church goers, leadership in my local body, my little brother’s rebellion, and the judgmental words of others (ironic?). May the Spirit reveal my depravity and the Truth with which to combat it.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Sanctification Project - Week 2
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I studied much of Matthew this week. The Spirit revealed a plank, or at least some bad glasses. The thought first hit me as I looked at the Beatitudes: I pay lip service to the offense of self-sufficiency, but I value it a great deal. I know independence is one of my besetting sins. I also know I need Jesus to wrestle the lion, but I generally start off trying to do it myself. While I don’t want to be independent of Christ, I continually choose to be. “What I hate, that I do.” And while I want to value others’ need for Christ, I scorn it. “What I will to do, that I do not practice.”
The last year has been a continuous pattern of small “joy breaths” above the surface before I go back to drowning. Or nearly drowning. Or perceiving myself as drowning. Or fighting the perception of drowning. This past week was no pattern-breaker. Mom brought to my attention that this long-term striving might be a divine tool to work compassion and mercy in my soul. Never before has my wilderness seasons affected every area of my life. This time I can truly say I am confident in Christ alone. I am needy in all things. God loves the broken, the contrite, the meek, the poor in spirit, the mourning. Good thing. Lately, Cristi Antholz has been synonymous with all five. Now, how do I take my neediness and my gratitude of God’s love for me in that neediness, and love others with that knowledge?
Your wilderness is working truth, Lord. Truth to my mind. May Your wilderness move it deeper to conform my heart to the merciful, compassionate love of Christ.
I studied much of Matthew this week. The Spirit revealed a plank, or at least some bad glasses. The thought first hit me as I looked at the Beatitudes: I pay lip service to the offense of self-sufficiency, but I value it a great deal. I know independence is one of my besetting sins. I also know I need Jesus to wrestle the lion, but I generally start off trying to do it myself. While I don’t want to be independent of Christ, I continually choose to be. “What I hate, that I do.” And while I want to value others’ need for Christ, I scorn it. “What I will to do, that I do not practice.”
The last year has been a continuous pattern of small “joy breaths” above the surface before I go back to drowning. Or nearly drowning. Or perceiving myself as drowning. Or fighting the perception of drowning. This past week was no pattern-breaker. Mom brought to my attention that this long-term striving might be a divine tool to work compassion and mercy in my soul. Never before has my wilderness seasons affected every area of my life. This time I can truly say I am confident in Christ alone. I am needy in all things. God loves the broken, the contrite, the meek, the poor in spirit, the mourning. Good thing. Lately, Cristi Antholz has been synonymous with all five. Now, how do I take my neediness and my gratitude of God’s love for me in that neediness, and love others with that knowledge?
Your wilderness is working truth, Lord. Truth to my mind. May Your wilderness move it deeper to conform my heart to the merciful, compassionate love of Christ.
Sanctification Project - Week 1
One of my classes requires me to practice biblical counseling by applying the Bible to one of my own sin issues. A judgmental and critical spirit is my target. The following posts are the weekly journal entries for this "project."
Saturday, September13, 2008
This morning I read Psalm 73. O, how closely the psalmist’s heart mirrors my own! “When my soul was embittered, / when I was pricked in heart, / I was brutish and ignorant; / I was like a beast toward you”. Asaph speaks of the sinfulness of the wicked. Pondering their iniquitous ways also “seemed to me a wearisome task.” But then comes the key: “until I went into the sanctuary of God; / then I discerned their end.” Here lies the beginning of a compassionate, merciful heart towards unbelievers. They are perishing! The Lord God is preparing His arsenal for those who do not repent! And were it not for Christ Jesus, who brought peace between the Lord and me, His enemy, that arsenal would be made ready for me.
So I realize one of the primary root issues of my judgmental, critical spirit is my failure to see the world and the Church as God does. Yet even with the powerful case above, I must admit the compassion is not welling up in my heart. That knowledge remains purely cognitive, not “cardiac.” How does one despise sin as an offensive act toward her God and also mourn the destiny of the sinner? And how does she monitor her judgment of the offensive, striving for an honorable heartset? There is no doubt I have planks. But I do not think that should debilitate me from exhorting my brothers and sisters. So what’s the balance?
Saturday, September13, 2008
This morning I read Psalm 73. O, how closely the psalmist’s heart mirrors my own! “When my soul was embittered, / when I was pricked in heart, / I was brutish and ignorant; / I was like a beast toward you”. Asaph speaks of the sinfulness of the wicked. Pondering their iniquitous ways also “seemed to me a wearisome task.” But then comes the key: “until I went into the sanctuary of God; / then I discerned their end.” Here lies the beginning of a compassionate, merciful heart towards unbelievers. They are perishing! The Lord God is preparing His arsenal for those who do not repent! And were it not for Christ Jesus, who brought peace between the Lord and me, His enemy, that arsenal would be made ready for me.
So I realize one of the primary root issues of my judgmental, critical spirit is my failure to see the world and the Church as God does. Yet even with the powerful case above, I must admit the compassion is not welling up in my heart. That knowledge remains purely cognitive, not “cardiac.” How does one despise sin as an offensive act toward her God and also mourn the destiny of the sinner? And how does she monitor her judgment of the offensive, striving for an honorable heartset? There is no doubt I have planks. But I do not think that should debilitate me from exhorting my brothers and sisters. So what’s the balance?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Cling to the Rock
I once heard it said the Christian life is more like a rock climb than a walk down a path. Following in the footsteps of Christ is not so easy as walking down a path, however narrow it may be. Believers must cling to Truth, the Living Word of God, as they would the face of a mountain. Failure to do so results in falling away.
The Bible is replete in conveying our need for its pervasion of our lives. Moses declared to the Israelites:
Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
Deuteronomy 6:4-9
Like any good simile of the Christian subculture, the rock climb connection convicted and inspired me. At the time, I didn’t realize how poignant it would become. I didn’t know I would be forced to move beyond conviction and inspiration, where the rubber meets the road in action.
We woman are emotional creatures. Wired that way, I’m told. Most of my life, I’ve been (I hate to jump into the mosh pit of post-modernist jargon, but…) relatively unemotional. Maybe it’s a product of growing up with only brothers; but times have changed, I guess. A few weeks ago, I found myself in an emotional blizzard. At least that’s what it felt like for a girl who normally cried once every few months to have uncontrollable crying episodes multiple times a day. Scary. Week-and-a-half scary.
The transition of moving, losing close-knit community, and changing plans isn’t easy, but it’s not that bad. My circumstances were only moderately more difficult. So the blizzard really made no sense. But it felt very real to me. Overwhelmingly real. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I prayed, read my Bible, called family and friends to pray, confessed sin, asked God to reveal hidden sin, sought community –all the things I knew to do weren’t changing the lack of comfort I felt. After all, didn’t God promise “I am He who comforts you” (Isaiah 51:12)? Why wasn’t I feeling comforted?
The rock-climbing analogy kept coming back to me. I didn’t understand the emotional craziness, but I kept hearing the lifeline cling to the Rock, cling to the Rock. When the blizzards would hit, I eventually came to the point where the only way I made it through without becoming completely hysterical was making myself recite a verse –any verse. It wasn’t like flipping a switch or performing a magic trick. I didn’t automatically feel better as soon as I thought of a verse. But it did keep me from falling. I realized I was on the mountain face. The grade was slightly steeper, but the real problem was the blizzards that would blindside me from nowhere. Now, clinging to the Rock didn’t make the blizzard go away, but it was the only way to survive. I had no other refuge. And, really, if I were in a blizzard, I would much rather be holding onto a mountain than wandering aimlessly.
I hope you’ve noticed the dangerous f-words which have infused my writing thus far. Feel. Felt. Feeling. Emotion is tantamount to intense feeling. We women are feelers. [Side note: If one more man tells me feelings are a good thing, it’s likely I’ll punch him in the mouth. I know it’s true; and I’ll even admit that it’s right for him to remind me of that truth. But he should beware the potential physical manifestations of my feelings at the intense point in which they are felt.] God created feelings. They must be good. But they can easily become the faulty foundation by which we live the day-to-day. This is fine, when feelings are supported by the truths of the Word of God. A Puritan articulated this in the beautiful prayer “The Divine Will” from The Valley of Vision: “Help me to honour thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.” Feelings, while good, must be constantly compared to Scripture. The Word of God is immutable, feelings are not. This is certainly a mental discipline. It’s much easier to roll with a feeling than consider its biblical validity and stop the thought at its onset. Rolling eventually turns to a spiral of despair. You will not find comfort apart from the Word, Immanuel. I realized, with the help of my brother, my definition of comfort was all about good feelings. The Always-Good-Feelings clause is not part of Christ's Covenant. In fact, He promises we will suffer persecution in following Him. (2 Timothy 3:12) But we can look to that with joy! For the Rock, the beautiful, majestic, steadfast Rock, is our Comfort! The promise of the Living Word, the hope of glory is our Comfort. And that's not a feeling -it's a fact.
So cling to the Living Word, brothers and sisters. Don't give your fellow believers the false hope of good feelings. This life is a difficult, uphill climb. The Rock is your only hope. The only Hope.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
The Unbelieving Poet Catches a Glimpse of Truth
A Taste and See Article by John Piper
March 5, 2008
March 5, 2008
Since all humans are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27), and the work of God’s law is written on every heart (Romans 2:15), and the heavens are telling the glory of God to everyone who can see (Psalm 19:1), and God has put eternity in man’s heart (Ecclesiastes 3:11), and by God’s providence every person is set to grope for God (Acts 17:27), and in God we all live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28), it is not surprising that even people without eyes to see the glory of Christ nevertheless have glimpses into the way the world really is, and then don’t know what to do with them.
Stephen Dunn is a Pulitzer Prize winning poet and not a Christian. “I think of God as a metaphor. God is a metaphor for the origins and mysteries of the world. . . . I think of beliefs as provisional. They’re not things that constitute anything fixed.” In an interview recently for Books and Culture (March/April, 2008, pp. 26-27), Aaron Rench asked him about his book The Insistence of Beauty.
In regards to your book The Insistence of Beauty, what is this notion that beauty has a demanding, compelling quality to it? Why is beauty that way?
Dunn answers:
I just think beauty is irresistible. It disarms us. Takes away our arguments. And then if you expand the notion of beauty—that there is beauty in the tawdry, beauty in ugliness—things get complicated. But I think that beauty, which is more related in my mind to the sublime, is what we cannot resist.
Yes, and this is how we all were converted to Christ. The eyes of our hearts were enlightened to see the beauty of Christ, and in that moment he became irresistible. This is the way divine, spiritual beauty works. It authenticates itself. It "takes away our arguments.” Or better: It replaces all our false arguments with one grand, true argument that cannot be resisted.
This is the point of 2 Corinthians 4:4-6.
The god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.
The “glory of Christ” is the beauty of Christ. It is the radiance of the fullness of his person—the impact of all his perfections. The reason people do not believe on Christ is that they do not see what is really there. That is what it means to be “blind.” Beauty is really there to be seen, but we are blind to it.
If we see it, we believe. “Beauty is irresistible.” If you resist, you have not seen Christ as beautiful as he is (1 John 3:6b). So the way we are converted to Christ is by having this blindness taken away. Verse 6 says, “God has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” God replaces blindness with light. The light is specifically “the glory of God in the face of Christ.”
That is all it takes. There is no coercion after that revelation. The light compels. We don’t behold it and then ponder whether to believe. If we are still pondering, we have not yet seen.
Poet Stephen Dunn, groping toward God, says that beauty “is related to the sublime.” It is “what we cannot resist.” Yes, the sublime is summed up in Jesus Christ. And it is his glory that is supremely irresistible.
Let this be your life: Ponder him; be pervaded with him; point to him. The more you know of him, and the more you admire the fullness of his beauty, the more you will reflect him. O that there would be thousands of irresistible reflections of the beauty of Jesus. May it be said of such reflections, “It disarms us. It takes away our arguments.”
Pastor John
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Nothing But a Promise
Then the high priest said, “Are these things so?” And [Stephen] said, “Brethren and fathers, listen: The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he dwelt in Haran, and said to him, ‘Get out of your country and from your relatives, and come to a land that I will show you.’ Then he came out of the land of the Chaldeans and dwelt in
Acts 7:1-5
Nothing but a promise. Those were the words that went through my head as I read these verses yesterday morning –especially verse 5. God called Abraham to leave everything and follow him. Abraham obeyed. Even then, God didn’t give an inheritance. No land. No possessions. “Not even enough to set his foot on.” Nothing. But God did give a promise. A promise that Abraham’s descendants would receive the blessing.
I’ve always loved the faith of Abraham. But this retelling of his story by Stephen really resonated with me at this point in my life. I feel like I’ve left my country and relatives to come to the land God showed me. But when I arrived, there was no inheritance. No fruition of my plans. No job. It feels like, for all I came for, I have nothing. Not even enough to set my foot on. No tangible “proof” to affirm my decision to come here. But I do have a promise. A promise that the Lord, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, is working for my good. (Romans 8:28) A promise that He knows the plans He has for me, plans to give me a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29:11) A promise that He delights to give me the kingdom. (Luke 12:32) Actually, I have 100 promises. 200 promises. Enough promises to fill my cup and overflow.
The question I have to ask myself is if that is enough. The TRUTH is that it is more than enough. It was enough for Abraham. He didn’t even have a child when God made a promise to His descendants. How easy is it to believe a promise based on something that was nonexistent? Bottom line: Abraham gave up everything, had nothing, and God’s promise was all he needed.
No matter what I feel, I cannot escape that truth. I have much. My cup overflows with the goodness of the promises of God. And more than that, I have the Promise who came in the Flesh. I have Jesus. And I have the Promise indwelling. I have the Holy Spirit.
I’ve grown to love the old spiritual “Give Me Jesus.” Imagine the life of an American slave. They go to bed from a long day of sweat and toil in the stifling heat. Sometimes they’re beaten and bloody. Sometimes they’ve seen a family member sold. Never to be seen again. Yet those whose God is the Lord would fall asleep singing, “In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus. You can have all this world, but give me Jesus.” In the morning, when I rise to return to the sweat and the toil, and the heat and the whip, and the pain and the loss, give me Jesus. He’s what I need. He’s all I need. That’s what they said. They believed it facing the trials of every day. They believed it facing the loneliness of separation. They believed it facing death. Nothing but a promise. But that’s all they needed.
Across the ages, from Genesis to now, many have followed the Lord when they had nothing but a promise. Consider for a moment that not one child of God has been abandoned. The faithfulness of God is great and immutable. We need not doubt it.
Dear brother or sister, you may have nothing. Not even enough to set your foot on. But you have a promise. A host of promises. Believe them. You have Jesus. He’s all you need.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Yahweh, Your Dwelling Place
Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Psalm 90:1
A dwelling place, or shelter, is built to protect its inhabitants from the elements specific to the region in which it is placed. The basements and cellars of
All of these earthly shelters are designed to offer a specific protection. But they are faulty. An F5 tornado can pick a house up and drop the whole of it back into the basement without any regard for the inhabitants therein. The floods rise high, knock the stilts from under a home, and carry it away in its powerful current. Earthquakes topple the most reinforced of buildings. The cold penetrates. The heat wearies.
But, child of God, rejoice knowing the almighty Yahweh is your dwelling place. He has promised it. And He is perfect. There is no storm or element or disaster that can impale His walls or shake His foundation. And just as our Lord has been a dwelling place to His children for generations and generations, He is a dwelling place to you. Uniquely to you. If you stand in the freeze of relational strife, Your God will give you warmth. If you walk the dessert of spiritual dryness, your
In Yahweh, your dwelling place, you are as safe as you need to be. Do not doubt His desire for your good.
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