The Terrible Sin of Eisigesis

If you are not familiar with the term eisigesis, here’s the wiki definition (poorly edited, by the way, yet it at least communicates the basic idea).

Eisigesis means reading into the (Biblical) text; which means that while reading the text, one would understand the text in accordance to his (or her) own presupposition and agendas. Eisigesis is widely used to prove a point rather to search for the truth. On the contrary to eisigesis, exigesis means reading out of the text. That means putting aside all presuppositions, agendas, and ideas, and looking for the truth of the matter, although it might be something we disagree with.

If anyone has a wiki account, that definition could use some serious editing. The idea behind the word eisigesis is best understood in contrast to Biblical exegesis, which is more clearly defined among theologians. Exegesis in the vernacular is letting Scripture set the agenda on how a verse or chapter is interpreted and applied. When a pastor exegetes Scripture, he sets aside his personal agenda as he studies Scripture. He looks at the context of a passage. What was the author talking about in the previous section? How do the previous verses inform the passage in question? Who was it written too? How does their background and culture inform what the author is saying to them? What do the actual Hebrew or Greek words mean? Does the author use those same words any where else in Scripture? Is this passage actually quoted anywhere else in Scripture. And so forth. It is reading OUT OF Scripture.

In contrast, eisigesis is projecting ONTO Scripture. Instead of Scripture speaking out to us, we speak into it. We inform how it is read. Our agendas apart from Scripture inform how we interpret and apply it. And it is a horrible yet common sin. It's a perversion of Scripture. Scripture is God’s revelation of Himself TO us. We don’t get to project our reflections onto it. IT illuminates US. Not vice versa.

The problem with eisigesis is that when we emphasize things Scripture doesn’t, we minimize the focus on what Scripture really does say is important.

After hearing a few sermon series from Old Testament books that were classic examples of eisigesis, I recognize it easily now. But a negative side effect is that I also tense up now when my pastor wants to preach from any Old Testament passage. During a recent sermon from Jeremiah, I sat listening to my pastor trying to figure out why I trusted the applications he was making for today from Jeremiah 29. Why is it that I can hear instructions from 3000 or so years ago on seeking the welfare of some city in the middle east (and not David's example of cutting off Philistine foreskins or Nehemiah's scalping of his enemies) and embrace it for me today?

I have particular baggage on that question after hearing a sermon series from Nehemiah a few years ago that was about the worst example of eisigesis I've yet experienced. The preacher projected his life onto the story of Nehemiah and allowed his personal experiences rather than a gospel hermeneutic to decide how he applied it. The results were devastating. Years later, when my pastor announced he was going to preach through Exodus, I immediately tensed. But after going through a few Old Testament series taught through the lens of the gospel and life of Jesus, I have come to understand that the difference is really quite simple. Correct exegesis and application of Old Testament passages will never deny New Testament explanations or commands. When you have to deny New Testament instructions to make Old Testament analogies, you are in problem territory.

In the Nehemiah example, the preacher drew the conclusion that going postal on your spiritual opponent is Biblical because Nehemiah did. But that conclusion ignored the distinction between what Scripture DESCRIBES and PRESCRIBES. Scripture describes a lot of things that we aren't to do, and sometimes it describes it without commentary. Though the guy in Judges cut up his concubine's corpse and distributed it among the tribes, we know better than to suggest others do that today. Judges described what happened, and be very certain that everything that the Bible describes it does not also prescribe.

In reference to the description of Nehemiah's harsh reaction to his opponents, it was a good day when I read what Scripture in 2 Timothy 2:24-26 actually prescribes when dealing with your opponent.

And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will.

Weird stories in the Old Testament are very relevant today. Some simply point to the character of our God. While most of us will never go through the same trials that Joseph did, our God is the same, and what others mean for evil, He uses for our good (Gen. 50:20). That's His character. Some OT stories point to our need for King Jesus. For instance, the entire book of Judges, which is a compilation of depressing stories summed up with the phrase, “there was no king and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” We need King Jesus. We need His life lived out before us because apart from His standard of righteousness, the things we come up with as righteous in our own eyes are woefully inadequate and often quite perverse. Then there are the abundance of stories that reveal little glimpses of what King Jesus will look like when He comes. The entire OT sacrificial system does this. The Psalms give us glimpses. Ruth's story of the kinsman redeemer or Hosea's pursuit of Gomar all do this as well.

The Bible is the best commentary on itself and the most helpful tool for avoiding personal eisigesis. Once we stop projecting onto the Old Testament, it has so much to project onto us. And it is beautiful and redemptive. I'm very thankful to the godly men (and women) who have pointed me to the cross from Genesis to Malachi.

Ode to the Single Woman

Single woman, friend of mine, you have come through for me again and again. My life as a wife and mom to small children is chaotic, and when I get sick or have an emergency large or small, it throws my world into chaos. You are the one that I called when I was sitting in my chair crying, overwhelmed at my inability to do all I had to do. And you showed up on my doorstep at a moment's notice ready to take my kids to a playground and out for ice cream afterwards. And then you acted like it was no problem and actually something you wanted to do.

I can not tell you what grace you have ministered to me by your enthusiasm to serve my family. If someone called me up with the same request, I'd do my best to do it without making them feel bad, but it would stress me, and I imagine it would be hard not to communicate it to the one in need. But you have never once made me feel bad about your service to me. I often feel guilty that our friendship seems lopsided. You are the flexible one, while my schedule seems so inflexible. And yet you never make me feel selfish or guilty or ashamed. You treat me like you are just happy to be with me, even if you had to make the majority of the sacrifices to make it happen. I want you to know that I see that and it means so very much to me. And to my children. And to my husband.

I have had several single friends over the last few years who have loved me and my children well, served my family in times of sickness or death, and just generally blessed me. I am coming to the firm conviction that I, married with 2 kids, deeply need my sisters in Christ at different stages of life—younger, older, never married, married, widowed, divorced, with grown kids, without kids. I like to minister to others. And sometimes the outgrowth of that is I'm a little resistant to someone ministering to me. But God has definitely worked that out of me the last year. I am contemplating tonight my need for my sisters and how blessed I have been when I humble myself to them with my need.

The Answer to a Works Righteousness Approach to Mission

Our pastor started a sermon series on I Corinthians today with the general theme of Threats to Mission. Today's focus was how a cult of personality can be a threat to authentic mission. The answer was that, not only is salvation by grace, but mission too is by grace (not personality, or gifting, or vision). If you have 30 minutes and would like to hear a gospel centered message on living out our mission in our culture, this is a very helpful one. The text is I. Cor. 1:1-3, 10-17; 3:1-9.

A Praying Life

I've recommended a number of books on this blog. Some I like, and I think some of you might find helpful. They may say an intriguing thought that I share with you. But other times, I come across a book that I devour. That I reread. That hangs with me well after putting it down. That the Spirit uses to change me. Hearing Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow was one. Counsel from the Cross was another. And currently, I am devouring A Praying Life by Paul Miller. Like Nancy Guthrie of Hearing Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow, Miller has endured long term struggles with his children. I have found that authors/teachers saddled with a life long burden have a lot to say. At least to me. Sometimes it's not what we necessarily want to hear. But once your naive notions of how the christian life will play out for you die their painful death, these authors are the ones that can speak the truth of Scripture in effective ways.

I have underlined paragraphs, starred sentences, and turned the corner of pages of this book with the thought of posting a blurb here. But now I have too many to post just one, and I can only say that if you are hurting and your previous view of prayer has been challenged by the struggles you have faced, READ THIS BOOK.

And so it began

Every now and then, God shows me something from Scripture in such a way that I hear loud and clear His message to me. Such was today, Christmas day. I am 40 years old, the youngest of 3 girls. And today was the first time I've fully hosted Christmas for my parents. I've been working on a low key menu for a few weeks, and things came together relatively well. My boys are ages 4 and 6, and this year it seemed of growing importance to start instilling in them the true meaning of Christmas. We've been talking about the Christmas story, reading it from many different books, acting it out in church Christmas programs, and talking it out using a playmobil manger scene. All that to say, I've had a bit on my mind in preparation for today. After reading the Christmas story last night, this morning was a flurry of Christmas activity. At some point, I managed to steal a few brief moments away to read my Bible.

I have been working my way through the book of Luke since last summer. I keep getting distracted away from it, but I also keep coming back. And today, God timed it so that my reading spoke a clear message to me particularly on this day we celebrate Christ's birth.

The topic? Christ's death.

Yes, today my reading in Luke just “happened” to fall on the crucifixion. I hadn't really noticed in the days before this that I was at that point in Luke. But it was stark this morning. While my boys read last night of one Herod's pursuit of the infant Christ, today I read of another Herod's interaction with Him. Judas betrays Jesus. Herod and Pilate become friends as they try to figure out what to do with Him. Jesus stands silent in the presence of the accusations against Him. He's beaten and sent to the cross where He interacts with a thief who recognizes who He is. Peter denies Him while a centurion recognizes Him. He dies.

And then comes the most amazing thing in all of Scripture. “The curtain of the temple was torn in two.” The thick heavy curtain that separated the outer portion of the temple from the Holy of Holies, which was the symbolic presence of God, was torn in two. No more priests interceding in our place. No more blood sacrifices to atone for our sins. Instead, we have ACCESS. Bold, confident access.

So today as I unwrapped gifts and cooked turkey and ham, I was humbled to think that what I'm really celebrating is the start of the countdown to the moment that veil in the temple was torn, to the moment that Christ paved the way for me to boldly and confidently access my Father. And maybe the purest form of celebration I can offer on Christmas day and the days to come is simply to avail myself of the access He has given me through His life and death.

The veil is torn. Wherever you are this Christmas season, whatever you perceive stands between you and Him, come boldly and confidently to Him now in prayer. Avail yourself of the end result of Christ's birth, life, and death for you.

Pray.

Eating it

"I and the public know 
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return."
-W. H. Auden, 1-Sep-39

Auden wrote those words about the outbreak of World War 2, but the headlines on every news network today reflect it as well. I was painfully aware of it as I watched an older teenage boy in the park physically abuse his younger cousin recently. Though he was gone by the time the police got there, I know had they questioned him, he would have said that someone did it to him when he was young (probably the evil grandmother yelling at the other kids while it was all happening). If you follow the tangled web that leads to any act of vandalism, bullying, abuse, or even terrorism, you will find someone at some point acting out on what evil had been done to them – not paying it BACK usually. More often, they are paying it FORWARD—Zig Ziglar's kicking the cat syndrome. Tolstoy, in his short story The Forged Coupon, traces the cancerous progression of evil beginning with a boy falsifying the amount on a coupon, which eventually progresses to murder. It's the circular saw of evil, each act of evil adding another blade in the ever widening circle.

Into this world is born the Lamb of God. He doesn't pay it back. And He doesn't pay it forward. He eats it. My pastor called it absorbing injustice, and I recommend his sermon on it here.

And we are called to be like Him. Tim Keller has said it boldly, “A Christian's call is to stop the spread of evil.” When I first heard that quote, I had to stop and think ... Really?! Not just avoid evil or not do evil myself, but to actually STOP evil? It was helpful to go through Ephesians again with women at my church this quarter. By the end of Ephesians, when Paul says “stand firm,” this is exactly what he's calling us to do. By God's GRACE, He has equipped me to deal with the evil in myself. And by His grace, He's given me the tools to deal with the evil in the world. I am called to plant my feet, hold up my shield, hunker down, and STAND FIRM. And when evil slams up against me, Satan's schemes to defeat me and undermine the march of the kingdom of God, I hold on – feet planted, sword in one hand, shield in the other – and preach the gospel of peace that brings an END to this war.

I love the picture painted of spiritual warfare in Ephesians 6. But what does that look like in real life? THAT is the million dollar question. I'm thinking about it this morning with my children. How do I teach them to eat the forged coupon? Left to themselves and apart from Christ, their little conflicts with one another escalate to a childish form of murder every time. It starts by someone politely asking for a shared toy, and ends with each boy crying after scratching and clawing the other in anger. I'm thinking about it in terms of myself. How do I eat it when I receive the forged coupon? When my children do evil to me? How do I stand firm in the gospel of peace when my husband is short with me? When he misunderstands me?

I am also contemplating this in our world. Abuse and oppression are everywhere. I've become particularly aware of it in the church—spiritual, sexual, and physical abuse in many different denominations. It's as rampant in Bible and Baptist churches as it is in Catholic ones. It's often hushed up by church leadership with the end result of predators moving quietly to another congregation in another city to offend again.

My call is more than just to deflect evil off myself, leaving it to affect someone else later. Nor am I called to a victim mentality that endures evil so that evil is perpetuated by my indifference. No, I am called to an endurance and steadfastness that absorbs and ends it. ENDS it. Social justice is the natural outworking of the gospel of peace, which I talked about here. I've heard good things about Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice, which I have as the next book on my To Read list.

I am beginning to form a global perspective of what this looks like. Then, as I sit in my chair thinking about my part in ending global evil, I'm distracted by my son walking through the room, demanding something of me. And I'm reminded that my first line of battle is right here in this house, right now, with these two guys – planting my feet firmly in the gospel of peace, absorbing injustice, and doing unto them not as they just did to me but with a vision of what God is calling them to be. Like the guy who can stop the saw with his hand, my job isn't to get out of the way while the circle of evil perpetuates itself. And my job is certainly not to stay in the cycle. But I am now equipped and called to END it.

Special thanks to my pastor's wife for prompting me to think on this, especially in terms of our children.

An external act of religion that actually means something.

Having come from a religious background that, much like the pharisees of Jesus' day, abused teaching on the externals of a person, I am skittish at even considering that externals DO mean something spiritually. Yet, Scripture is clear. Everything flows out of the HEART, but it does flow OUT. Our external actions can have value in terms of self examination. But their value cuts both ways. We can examine externals and become satisfied with ourselves to the point that we ignore our heart – the white washed tomb syndrome. In that case, there is a disconnect between the heart (which is dead) and the externals (which look good). The outside looks clean, yet it houses dead men's bones. Christians have always been adept at coming up with amazing amounts of white wash to cover our tombs. But we also often miss what Scripture itself says is the appropriate outworking of a heart that abides in Christ in light of His gospel. What should be flowing out?

I am slowly working my way through Ray Ortlund's commentary on Isaiah, God Saves Sinners. His discussion of Isaiah 1 has pricked me, a sword that cuts deeply and exposes the truth of our problems (MY problems) and the only thing that will fix it.

Isaiah 1 is a lament by God over His children. You are wounded and bleeding, says God, yet oblivious to your sorry condition (v. 5-7). You continue with the traditions of worship like you always have, to which God brings a strong rebuke, “Bring no more vain offerings” (v. 13).

Vain means empty. Useless. Ineffective. Their worship means nothing and accomplishes nothing. They are, in theory, following the letter of the law in their external worship, but it is utterly ineffective, actually becoming a burden to God (v. 14) rather than the incense it should be.

Hear well both the indictment against them and then the answer God gives them in Isaiah 1.

“Your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes, cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause.” v. 15-17

As I read verse 17, I immediately thought of those intriguing words on pure religion in the New Testament in James 1. They intrigue me because I so rarely have heard it emphasized with the clarity that Scripture seems to speak of it.

James 1:27 Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this : to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

James calls it PURE and UNDEFILED religion. When you boil it down and remove the impurities, here is what you will have left. Growing up, I read that passage in my Bible but NEVER heard it as a topic of sermons, or youth activities, or Sunday school lessons, or Christian school devotionals, or ministry staff meetings, or chapel messages, or … well, you get the picture. Yet James uses wording that makes it sound like something pretty important. And when I read Isaiah 1 this last week and Ortlund's commentary on it, I realized, it is of UTMOST importance.

The Greek term in James 1 for religion is interesting. It particularly applies to the outside practices and visible worship that flow from our doctrine and beliefs (as does Isaiah 1). We all know to focus on heart issues. Yet everything that we inwardly believe plays itself out outwardly. Our worship music, preaching styles, the method in which we pray, the way we decorate for Christmas, the Christian t shirts we wear, the WWJD bracelets, the cross necklace, or whatever other OUTWARD manifestation you can imagine of your belief system – that is “religion” of James 1:27.

If you read James 1:27 in the context of the entire chapter, James is teaching on being a doer, not just a hearer, of the word. He says many people look in the mirror, see the truth of what God says, but then turn away unchanged. They hear it, but it never connects in a way that makes a difference. James says that a crystal clear outward indicator that the truth of the gospel actually registered with you is care of the oppressed and remaining unstained by the world. I've heard the second phrase taught in the past in a way that is contradicted by Jesus' own earthly example, and that's never good. So I want to think more on what it means and post those thoughts another day. But the first indicator is pretty straightforward—care of widows and orphans, and when coupled with Isaiah 1, the general seeking of justice and correction of oppression.

I generally value these things, but I am praying about what I need to see in the mirror of God's Word and how that will affect my responses to the oppressed in my realm of influence. I have vaguely noticed this in the past, but I didn't have the gospel conviction to realize what was happening. I remember years ago counseling a former church member who was undergoing a serious crisis shortly after leaving our church at the time. She was suddenly in terrible need. What an awesome moment to show her the love of God and unconditional nature of His grace, right?! It was slowly dawning on me -- this is a gospel outworking of love kind of moment. Yet church leaders kept putting me off in my efforts to get help for her and her children. I thought at first that the leaders and I just had a different philosophy on the church's obligations to former members. So I did things on my own without church support, a little befuddled by it all. Reading Isaiah 1 and James 1 clears it up for me. Now I realize that the real philosophical disparity was over the gospel itself. Gospel-centered, grace loving, Christ abiding hearers of the Word walk away from the mirror with a readiness to care for the poor, the widowed, the orphaned, and the oppressed. Once I realized that my burden for gospel-centered care of widows and orphans was not supported by my church leadership, I realized something significantly more. What do the words gospel, grace, and Jesus mean in this moment practically? My gospel understanding deepened, and my conviction to help the oppressed solidified in light of it.

But despite bad experiences with others on the subject as well as my own slowness to grow in it personally, I am also encouraged. As the gospel moves forward, I see a flourishing, gospel-centered growth in ministries focused on care of and justice for the oppressed. Here are a few.

Members of my church are heavily involved in Seattle Against Slavery and Rwanda Partners.

Dan Cruver has spearheaded a growing movement, Together for Adoption, with yearly conferences and lots of helpful material.

Russell Moore has written a great book on the subject of adoption, Adopted for Life.

A good friend of mine has started working for and raised my attention to Illien Adoptions International.

In my small church (maybe 300 people max), at least 4 families have adopted, two of which are elders' families. There is no big push for adoption, per se. It's just in their spiritual, gospel-centered DNA. It's NATURAL to care for such things when you believe what our church believes and teaches about Christ, the gospel, and our adoption into God's family. The church also has a robust deacon's fund ready to help any who have need. A few months ago, I met a guy in line at Walgreens who had been burned out of his home, and in half a day, deacons at church were ready to assist him with getting temporary housing. Helping needs, caring for the oppressed, and seeking justice is the accepted norm there. It's not an agenda. It's the natural outworking of the gospel.

Now, PLEASE don't walk away from this article with a simplified checklist on which people or ministries with adoption ministries are good and those without are bad. It's bigger and deeper than that, and people who love Christ and the gospel are doing it left and right in ways most of us will never know. Most of all, it's about MY PERSONAL heart, not yours, or theirs. When I hear God's Word and see MYSELF in the mirror in light of it, I will turn out with a posture toward the widow, orphan, oppressed, and in need. My posture will be to seek justice, to correct oppression, and love the abandoned and orphaned. If that's not your posture, don't immediately go looking for an adoption ministry to which to send your money out of guilt (though sending money is good). Instead, preach the gospel to yourself. Our posture toward the needy will be corrected when we hear the Word and see ourselves clearly in its mirror. Meditate on the gospel, grace, and the life of Jesus. Anything less than looking anew on the cross will just produce self-righteous legalists (and nobody wants to be adopted by them!). :-)

**If you'd like to share a link to other gospel-centered ministries living this out, please feel free to do so.**

**One additional note -- what if you or your ministry sit under the accusation of harboring injustice or ignoring the care of widows or orphans? Our worldly coping mechanisms are denial and shame. But the gospel offers us a different beautiful, real solution -- REPENTANCE. It is as simple as saying, "Yes, I committed injustice instead of correcting injustice. But I see from the gospel hope for myself and a call to something different toward others. I repent." THAT is the antidote for accusations of disobedience against you. Chances are, the accusations are true. Face it. Repent. And then get up and go forward in a new direction. To the praise of God's glorious grace.

The Holidays Clarify Our Pain

I first posted this last holiday season. But since the readership of this blog has almost doubled since then (and I had sinus surgery this week, so writing something new is out of the question), I thought this would be a good post to highlight again.

I have spent my fair share of Christmases crying under the Christmas tree in the dark, staring at the lights on the tree dreaming of the Christmas I want, rather than the Christmas I have. This Christmas, I am joyfully anticipating family time, and I thank God that I don't foresee crying under the tree this year. But I've had enough lonely Christmases in the past, longing for something different, to respect the fact that many of you who follow this blog are entering a season that puts a harsh spotlight on the losses in your life. Perhaps you lost something you had -- a child, a spouse, a parent, a relationship. Perhaps you feel the loss of something you long to have but have not yet gotten to hold – a child, a husband.

The holiday season clarifies our pain. It makes it very clear exactly what we are longing for and exactly what we are mourning. It is especially hard to distract ourselves from our losses during this season. If you find yourself in this place, with the spotlight shining on your losses so that you can not escape the pain whether sitting under the tree, singing a carol, buying a gift, or opening a present, here are some thoughts from someone who has been there before.

1) Your loss is real, and it is OK to feel it deeply. But know also that you are not alone in your loneliness. Despite what you likely sense, most others are not enjoying the holidays unconditionally. There is not something wrong with you. Or actually, there is something wrong, but there is something wrong with all of us. So don't let the feelings of loss, loneliness, and isolation go unanswered in your own head. You may feel that you are alone and no one else understands the weight of the loss you carry through the holidays, but the truth is that MANY of your brothers and sisters in Christ are carrying such burdens, and you are not alone in your loss. Feel your loss, for it is real. But fight Satan when he tempts you to isolate yourself or distance yourself from others because of it.

2) Holiday pain can also clarify what you do have. Screw turkeys and cranberry sauce. Forget gifts given and received. Stocking stuffers are over rated. Instead, understand that your circumstances also shine a spotlight on Christ. When you aren't distracted by Christmas frivolities (or enamored by, as many of us are), you can recognize the void that can only be filled by one thing -- Christ Himself. It was during lonely Christmases that I discovered Colossians 1 and sat under a tree reading it to myself. It sustained me, not just for a season, but I've gone back to that passage for a lifetime.

I'll leave you with Colossians 1, this passage that tells us exactly Who arrived in the manger that night. As the holidays spotlight the pain of your losses, I encourage you to let God's description of His Son shine an alternate spotlight on all you have in Him this season.

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. 16 For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. 17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

21 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, 22 he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him,

Wherever you are this season, daughter of God and bride of Christ, I hope this vision of the eternal One you have in Christ will sustain you during lonely times. You are loved and wanted by Christ. You do have a family, in every idealistic sense of the term. It is in Him and with Him. That truth won't erase the pain of your very real loss this holiday season, but may it be the balm that soothes and comforts you, for by His wounds, you are healed.

Discovering Jesus in the Old Testament

Nancy Guthrie has written a new One Year Devotional series – Discovering Jesus in the Old Testament. I missed Cyber Monday, but if you are looking for something for yourself or a stocking stuffer for a loved one, this is a good choice. Nancy drew me in immediately in the introduction as she recounted a life history in the church is which the Old Testament seemed basically file folders of separate moral lessons with little overlap. Do this. Don't do that. Be like Joseph. Don't be like Saul. The stories were taught as life lessons or faith lessons but didn't speak into the whole message of Scripture. For so long in my own life, I didn't know what to think of Jesus telling the men walking the Emmaus road with him in Luke 24, "O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?" And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.”

Over the years, I've started filling in the gaps, primarily by sitting under preachers who have taught me Exodus, I Samuel, Jonah, and Ruth through the lens of the gospel. Second, I've learned to look up cross references when they are mentioned in my study Bible. When I read a prophesy in Isaiah, then notice the the cross reference to Luke in which Jesus says, “Today this is fulfilled in your hearing,” I have learned something incredibly important about both that OT prophecy and Christ himself. Scripture stops being a disjointed set of moral lessons and starts being the coherent, connected message of God's good plan for his children from creation in Genesis to the marriage supper of the lamb in Revelation.

If you would like help making those connections, Nancy's book is a good starting point. Note that it is not a commentary or Bible study. It is a devotional with short, succinct thoughts. I am early in my reading of it, but so far, I've been provoked to think about how the creation of woman from man ("bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh") is directly linked to Christ's relationship with his church, his Body in the New Testament, especially Ephesians 5. I'm meditating anew on the intimate nature of this relationship after seeing that connection. I also gained insight from reading the story of Cain and Abel in terms of Hebrews 12:24--“ to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.” What message apart from Christ does the blood of Abel speak? And what infinitely better word does Christ's blood now give us? I had never before made that connection.

The message of each devotional may seem redundant because it's gospel, gospel, grace, grace, and a little more gospel. Christ this. Cross that. But...um...that's the point. God started preaching the message of Christ immediately after the fall of man. If you are in need of some simple, gospel saturation (and aren't we all), this may be a good resource for you.

Bitter Women

Some women get accused of bitterness unjustly. I’ve spoken in the past about the inappropriate conclusions some draw from the curse of Genesis 3:16 and the ways that gets projected onto women. But today I want to deal with the fact that some women ARE truly bitter (men too, but honestly I haven’t experienced it with men the way I have with women, so someone else can deal with men.) And that true bitterness that I’ve witnessed with friends and family that I love does indeed spoil everything it touches, just as Scripture predicts.

Hebrews 12:15 See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no "root of bitterness" springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled

Bitterness in this context is resentful or cynical antagonism or hostility toward someone. I haven’t personally struggled with bitterness as a besetting issue (which is not to say I have never been bitter and had to repent of it). However, my sister has struggled with it deeply. I have mentioned before that my biological sister is also my spiritual sister. She and I have talked a great deal about this issue, and she has shared much hard-earned wisdom with me on the topic. I have asked her to write a series for this blog, but life has not yet given her the time and place to do that. Until then, I want to share some things we have learned walking this together.

We all have hours or days we struggle with bitterness. But Scripture also talks of a root of bitterness that springs up. It’s a bitterness that sits so long in a heart that it starts to take root, sprout, grow, and take over, and when that level of bitterness becomes ingrown in your heart, you get into a whole new level of problem. It may have started in its early years aimed at one person, but ingrown bitterness sprouts and branches out so that it colors our reactions to more and more people until it consumes us and our reactions to others in every aspect of our lives.

After years of struggling with bitterness, my sister’s clarifying moment came when she had 3 different people in a few short days each tell her off – and all 3 people were from completely different places in her life. None knew each other. She couldn’t pretend they were aspiring together against her, because they didn’t have anything in common or even know each other to talk to each other. It was clear that SHE had the problem. It was the last straw, and she fell on her face before God, crying out, “Help me!” Beth Moore’s Breaking Free Bible study was especially helpful to her (which is one reason you won’t hear me criticizing Beth Moore on this blog though I don’t resonate personally with her other studies the way some have). I appreciated Breaking Free, which explores the Christ-less coping mechanisms we have all learned that actually bind us to rather than free us from the very things we are trying to overcome.

Do you have multiple people from different aspects of your life (family, church, work) with whom you are angry? Do you keep one person in your favor to have conversations about these various other people? In my experience, bitter people try to keep one or two people in their good graces. They talk with them about the people with whom they are angry – they need a place to vent the anger that wells up in them continually. Bitter people also don’t respond well to apologies. The apologizer didn’t word it correctly, didn’t seem sorry enough, or maybe actually tried to explain something they felt you misunderstood. Though they tried to apologize, in the bitter person’s mind, it was not enough.

If you have ingrown bitterness, a lot of people don’t like you right now. And you don’t like even more people than don’t like you. And it is MISERABLE for you. If any of this sounds familiar, as someone who has loved bitter people and seen the joy of watching them freed from it, I implore you to face the truth of your bitterness head on.

When my sister finally cried out to God for help, she says she had to open her hands and physically let go of her right to anger and bitterness. At least half the people with whom she was angry actually HAD sinned against her. Yet, even so, her anger and bitterness toward them was defiling HER. It bothered them. But it tainted, polluted, and debased her. When she opened her hands and let go of her right to anger and retribution, it FREED her. She tells me of the weight off her back. She literally felt like she could stand up straight again.

In Christ, you too have the key to unlock the chains that bind your actions and reactions to others.

Luke 4
16 He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

20 Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. 21 He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

You are a prisoner, a puppet on a string constantly controlled by others. Perhaps you didn’t like feeling like they yanked your chain, but your Christ-less coping mechanisms for dealing with that pain have actually bound you even more tightly to what they say. In fact, you likely have arguments with them in the mirror at home when no one else is around. They control you that much because your bitterness and anger hasn’t FREED you from them, it’s only bound you tighter. Christ has come to give sight to the blind, to proclaim freedom to prisoners, and to set the oppressed free. Bitter friend, you are oppressed and imprisoned! But you CAN be free. And it's an incredible, profoundly satisfying freedom. I can’t describe the joy of watching my sister’s transformation, fully by Christ alone, from bitter woman to beautiful adopted daughter of God--FREE to breath deeply, return love for scorn, and minister grace to the next person. She has become my go-to person for spiritual counsel and encouragement, a trophy of God’s awesome grace in every sense of that phrase.

Hebrews 12 sets the root of bitterness in contrast with the grace of God. It’s not the goodness of others that will free you from bitterness. Because they aren’t that good. I acknowledge that many of the things that make you bitter reflect thoughtless or even outright malicious actions against you. No, only the grace of GOD will free you from the coping mechanism you’ve adopted to deal with people’s sins and failures. And hear me when I say the coping mechanisms you are using right now are not working! They are making things worse. They are hurting you. And they are hurting others around you.

If this resonates with you, I hope you will fall down before God, and ask Him to open your eyes to His grace toward you. Pray that you would recognize and press into the power at work in you (the same power that rose Christ from the dead according to Ephesians 1) and that it would equip you to put off your old ways of dealing with annoyances, slights, and even outright maliciousness and put on new ways of letting go of your rights and loving the unlovely as Christ has modeled for you. He has come to bring freedom to the oppressed! If you are oppressed by bitterness, dear sister, Christ’s death on the cross has purchased your freedom. Wrestle with Him now over how this breaks into your very struggles this day.

Oblivious Gratitude

Guest post by Natalie Brand

She walked quickly, her body taut with emotion. She must see him again, she thought. Her fingers grasped the cool delicate jar in her hand as she marvelled at his message earlier and the peace that had filled her. She stepped into the light of the room and saw his face. Emotion rose uncontrollably within her. She knew he was the promised one. With tears streaming down her cheeks she stood above his feet, which still bore the dust of the road. As her tears landed she saw the dust clear. Instinctively she bent down and wiped it off with her hair. Her heart filled with adoration and she kissed his feet. This was her Savior! Then, overwhelmed with love and gratitude, she broke the jar’s long neck and poured the costly perfume over his feet.

The love that the woman in Luke 7:36-50 displays for Christ is evidence of her faith in him and the work of forgiveness in her life. This woman is so preoccupied with the beauty of Jesus that she is oblivious of everyone else and their judgemental frowns. Her heart, mind and soul are so fixed on him that she is unaware of her lack of decorum, her cracked tear-stained face, or the shame of kissing someone else’s feet, not to mention the amount of money she is pouring away. This woman, guilty of her own impurity and rebellion, experienced the miraculous, extravagant grace of God. So in reckless abandon and inexpressible gratitude she empties a whole bottle of perfume over Jesus’ feet. Her worship is literally a sweet smelling aroma to God (Phil. 4:18). This is the type of reckless gratitude that the grace of Jesus Christ can provoke in the sinner. How amazing that a selfish, dirty and stubborn woman can be led by the wild self-sacrificial love of God to such self-forgetfulness and worship!

This woman’s adoration of Jesus stands in stark contrast to that of his host, Simon the Pharisee. Simon watched this woman’s worship of Christ with distaste. His judgement really is of Jesus more than the woman herself, saying to himself basically that if Jesus is anything more than a religious teacher then he would know that it is a dirty hooker who is touching him (v. 39). Yet Jesus is more than a rabbi or a prophet - he is God Eternal, able to forgive sins (v. 48). Because Simon misses who Christ is he also misses the gospel and shows no affection for him. “I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet” (vv. 44-46). Simon’s lack of manners reflects his lack of belief.

Then Jesus teaches Simon the difference between a grateful heart and a cold one by way of a parable (Luke 7:42-43). He explains that this woman has great love because she feels immense gratitude for the cancellation of her sin. Note that the measure of debt or sin in the parable is not in relation to what God sees, “for all have sinned and fall short” (Rom. 3:23), but how Simon and this woman see themselves. The woman is not saved because she has much love or much sin, for the Bible does not teach that you are forgiven much because you loved much. It is only by faith in Christ that this woman is saved (v. 50). Instead, Jesus teaches that deep gratitude stems from a broken repentant heart. Without this we remain untouched by Christ, like Simon.

The alabaster jar reflects the worship of its owner. Like the jar, this woman is broken before God. As the perfume is poured out and surrendered in worship, she also surrenders herself to God. We too need to be broken in worship, with a radical gratitude that is oblivious of others, reputation, self, and material possession. We too need to be poured out completely to the King of kings, not withholding any beloved dregs from him.

This woman’s worship reeks of an indebted love for Christ and remains a powerful Biblical challenge for us as contemporary women. The flask, like that belonging to Mary of Bethany (John 12:1-8), was probably worth a good year’s wages. Little did she know as she poured its contents over Jesus’ feet that soon those beloved feet would have huge nails hammered into them, securing them to a cross in order to secure her peace with God (v. 50).

Spiritual gratitude is both a fruit of God’s work in us and a spiritual discipline. It can be cultivated and gives vitality to our spiritual lives. A practical way we can cultivate gratitude is by honouring God with our possessions. By this woman’s material offering of thanksgiving, we see that idolatry of her material possessions is clearly not her struggle. She breaks the empty stuff of this world, counting it as ‘rubbish’ in order to worship Christ (Phil. 3:8). Her gratitude does not add to her salvation but fruitfully sings of it to the glory of God. May we reflect such fruit of gratitude to the glory of God by our own alabaster worship as well.

Pariahs

I’ve had interesting talks in the last two weeks with two godly friends who have both found themselves, one in the past and one in the present, in very difficult family circumstances. The husband of the first left her years ago when they worked together in ministry and had 2 young daughters. The second’s husband moved out a few months ago after distancing himself from her at every level (financially, spiritually, emotionally, and physically). Both have recounted how uncomfortable it seems to make others in the church. A young widowed friend had a similar experience. She wanted to say, “Um, it’s not catching!” When asked how she was doing at church, another was honest about her situation and pain. The response she got? “Wow. That makes me uncomfortable.” At least the responder was honest, putting into words what everyone else who heard her story seemed to feel based on their nonverbal response.

I thought about writing this article long ago as I contemplated my own godly sister. I am fortunate to have a biological sister who is also my spiritual sister. I can always count on her to give me strong, Biblical encouragement no matter my struggle. Her husband left her for another woman 5 or so years ago. It was TOUGH. She wasn’t perfect and would do much differently now. Yet she loved the Lord, volunteered in prison ministry, sang on her praise team, had her children in church every week, prayed diligently, and studied the Word regularly. Even so, it all fell apart.

It hasn’t been easy for her being a single mom. But if ever there was a phoenix rising from the ashes, it is she. I sat in her small Sunday school class last year and was awed by her teaching. And was struck--she has so much to say, she says it so well, and what she says is right and true, taught in Scripture and confirmed by her life testimony. Yet, I know of so many in Christianity that would have no natural desire to listen to her, much preferring the woman who saved her marriage and children through faith and obedience over the one who lost it despite her best attempts.

Therein lies the point of the title of this article. Pariahs are outcasts who are generally avoided. The term comes from the caste system of India. Our Christian culture has its own caste system, and it is out of line with Scripture’s presentation of sin and redemption. There is no caste system in Scripture. ALL have sinned and fall short of God’s glory. And God loved ALL and gave His precious Son for us. There was a group of alienated strangers (Ephesians 2), and we were all in it. But now in Christ Jesus, everything has changed. And that HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING when a believing woman’s world falls apart, be it ancient Ruth or modern day Alice.

I think it is personal fear that feeds this unspoken but real Christian reaction to such things. I understand the fear well. Watching my sister’s marriage fall apart shook me. I loved my brother in law. I LIKED him too. And when it happened to them, I knew it could happen to anyone. It could happen to me! And I so much do not want it to happen to me. I overcompensate looking for all the ways my marriage isn’t like theirs. All the things I’ve done right that they didn’t do. I run from the fact that her prayers and dreams are the same as mine, and hers seemed utterly ignored by God. Facing it calls me to examine hard things. How strongly do I believe in the goodness of God? In the sovereignty of God? In the TRUSTWORTHINESS of God? It’s easier to believe that my sister didn’t pray well than to believe that a good God didn’t answer to save her marriage. But I know her prayer life. I’ve seen her prayer journal. I know her weekly fasting schedule. The Christian woman whose life falls apart challenges our IF/THEN view of Biblical blessings. We don’t know what to do with such devastating unanswered prayer.

I’ve spoken before of the prosperity gospel of conservative evangelicals. It’s a tightrope to walk since Scripture does speak of blessings that follow obedience.

Proverbs 22
4 The reward for humility and fear of the LORD is riches and honor and life. 5 Thorns and snares are in the way of the crooked; whoever guards his soul will keep far from them. 6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. … 9 Whoever has a bountiful eye will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor. … 11 He who loves purity of heart, and whose speech is gracious, will have the king as his friend.

We know that proverbs are different from promises per se. But can’t we take away anything tangible from a straightforward reading of these verses? Neither of my friends from the opening of this article have riches. Instead of honor, they received betrayal from their husbands. They each have children who have rejected God. Yet for all of their shortcomings, they are humble women who fear the Lord.

We get the timing of the IF part of God’s promises. I know that such obedience, humility, and fear of the Lord is for me to do in this very moment. It’s the timing of the THEN part that’s always been our stumbling block. It’s easier to think of our friends as missing the IF in the first place. Surely they dropped the ball somewhere. (They did by the way, just not measurably more than you did. That’s why it’s called grace.)

What we really need is an eternal perspective of the THEN. You likely have a good friend (if not you yourself) who is watching her life fall apart according to her earthly hopes and expectations. God does have an answer for this. Wait. Endure. Hope. Live strong and confidently for the long term EVEN IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES. Because more than a life that seems outwardly blessed, a woman that is planted toward God long term in her painful loss, much like Job, brings great glory to His name, especially in the heavenly realm. Her THEN will be beautiful even if it is not NOW. It’s those women who get books of the Bible named after them. Young Christian women naively want to be like Ruth because they think Boaz is all that. But Ruth has a book named after her because, when society viewed her as an outcast, God called her to look to Him with outstretched hands though (even because) her life had completely fallen apart. She did, and He did. The THEN of God’s promises is coming for you too, woman who fears the Lord even in your circumstantial misery. He is trustworthy with His promises, and He is trustworthy with His proverbs. He didn’t drop the ball when He chose you to endure these things. And though His timetable is obviously not yours, your prayers are not cursed. The blessing IS coming, to the praise of His glorious grace! Rest there today, dear sister.

Cultiness

Dictionary.com defines a cult as a religion or sect considered to be false, unorthodox, or extremist, with members often living outside of conventional society under the direction of a charismatic leader. It’s a loaded term when it gets used with Christians. Scripture indicates that God is doing something in His people that gives true children of God different values and practices from much of those who reject Him. So in some sense, all believers can expect to be viewed as culty (a word I just made up) by the world. But there ARE Christian groups who have earned the right to be called a cult with every negative connotation of the word. The Branch Davidians are obvious. The trajectory of other Christian groups toward cultish behavior is a bit subtler. They are often oblivious of all the ways their current practices put them much more in line with cults than with the historic church. Here are some warning signs that you should not ignore.

1) Your church or ministry thinks it’s doing something particularly unusual or unique from other churches. They celebrate that uniqueness and protect it as core to their ministry.

The truth is that God has been effectively building His church and discipling His children for 1000’s of years. “There is nothing new under the sun” (Ecc. 1:9). If you think you’ve stumbled upon something new, unique, and utterly distinct from what’s going on in the Body of Christ outside of your particular church or ministry, be warned. You are adopting an unbiblical view of the Church of God. That separatist view is a strong indicator of a pride that will lead to many unhealthy, unbiblical responses to those who leave your church or ministry, to family who are outside your church or ministry, or to other churches or ministry that don’t fawn over your church or ministry. If you have Christian family that is concerned by your involvement in your church or ministry (maybe you can’t even bring it up with them anymore in conversation), think hard about why that may be.

2) Your church acts like a business. All churches need good, ethical business practices. But when your church adopts business practices to govern and minister to its people, start thinking hard. When the pastor see himself as a CEO rather than an undershepherd of God, um … that’s bad!

And the opposite is bad too -- when your ministry business or nonprofit that is not a church starts trying to exercise church discipline style control over its people. God’s plan for community, discipleship, and accountability is through the elder/deacon authority structure of a local church. You get into troubled water quickly when people who are not under the authority structure of a church try to exercise spiritual authority over you. They can encourage you, support you, point you to Christ, and so forth. But they cannot discipline you. And if they try, be very wary.

3) Your church or ministry over claims one or more of these ideas to justify itself against its critics. “God spoke to me about this (or about you).” “I have discernment on this issue that you don’t have.” “I’m an apostle with a special word from God.” “This is demonic oppression to stop the work of God.”

These ideas (special words from God) easily become justification for not obeying God’s clearly expressed will in His Word. If Pastor A thinks he’s an apostle of God being oppressed by Satan in a certain conflict, he feels instantly justified in using harsh words, unloving statements, and ungracious actions to fight off Satan. When a leader’s experience in a particular circumstance trumps God’s clear instructions on how to handle conflict as laid down in Scripture, be VERY wary.

4) Your church or ministry becomes your identity. This is pretty important because it zooms in on not the cultiness of the overall ministry but the dangerous idolatry of our own heart. Do you push down your concerns with the ministry because to exam them closely makes your heart constrict in fear as you contemplate possibly getting out? I’ve been there. Twice. I couldn’t consider the truth of the church’s/ministry’s problems because I felt so threatened by the idea of moving out of their safety and security. They had become my protectors, and I wasn’t confident that God alone could assume that role adequately for me. I thought no one else could minister to me or meet my needs the way they did. That is idolatry, friends. All my relationships were in the group. My finances were tied to it. My IDENTITY was tied to it. The truth is that there is godly Christian community throughout the world. I am continually awed at the healthy Christian community I find in the shadows of unhealthy ones.

Such idolatry can happen with healthy ministries. It becomes an indication of cultiness when the church/ministry FOSTERS that kind of dependence. They WANT you to find your identity in them. They want all of your resources to flow into them and all of your ministry work to flow out of them. They want you to be proud of them and feel that what they are doing is superior to other groups.

5) Your church or ministry uses the Lord’s name in vain. When “Jesus” and His “glory” are cited for enduring attacks, bearing long with someone, or confessing your sins, that’s healthy. In contrast, when you justify firing someone “for Jesus’ name” or to preserve “the glory of God”, um, you’re traveling at light speed down the trajectory of cultiness. Jesus name is high and mighty. It’s to be used with precision and care. If your church or ministry uses Jesus’ name to justify actions that have NO OTHER REAL BIBLICAL JUSTIFCATION for them, that’s a big time problem.

6) Your church or ministry protects its authority at all costs. It is not safe to say certain things. And truth is no excuse for saying them. In contrast, according to Scripture, GOD sets up authorities (Romans 13). He sets up those in our government, and He sets up those in our churches. And it’s God’s job to preserve those authorities. God’s authority can handle questions. God’s authority doesn’t need to circle the wagons to protect itself.

If these things ring true in your heart yet you FEAR leaving, let that be the final indicator that you are in an unhealthy place. God says it best in I John 4, and it’s a good word to end these thoughts.

18 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love.

Evangelism for Ordinary People

This Sunday's sermon from I Peter 3:8-18 ministered grace to me. As a veteran of a number of high powered, guilt driven presentations on our obligation to tell others about Christ, I needed to hear this message and be reminded of the instructions the Bible actually gives on sharing our hope in Christ. I Peter 3 presents a method of evangelism that really isn't a method at all--which is pretty much the core value. But if you want to call it a method, then the method is reactive, not proactive. God is doing the initiating in people's hearts, not me. And His initiation is evidenced by that person having a spark of interest. They ASK a reason for my hope. The context of such evangelism is a life that is already faithfully present in the life of unbelievers. They won't ask if they don't know you. And the character of such evangelism is rooted in gentleness and respect. There is no room for harshness in BIBLICAL evangelism according to I Peter 3. If you have 30 minutes, listen to the full sermon here.

Hear My Prayer, O Lord

In his book, Adopted for Life, which I hope to review in the future, Russell Moore tells of a haunting image in a Russian orphanage. He recounts the unexpected silence as he entered a room full of infants. Instead of crying, they just rocked themselves silently in their cribs. They had long since learned that no one came when they cried, so they didn’t try anymore.

As disturbing as the reality of that situation in the orphanage is to me, even more disturbing was how it resounded with my own prayer life with my Father in heaven. Satan tempted me to identify with it. I have many long unanswered prayers. Satan says, “Nobody is coming to help you. Why do you bother? Just shut up and rock silently as an orphan in your misery.”

It is work to fight off that image, to believe in faith that “the prayers of a righteous person are powerful and effective” (James 5:16 NIV). So I was thankful for this prayer that we recited together in church last week.

All-patient Father, Gracious Spirit, Merciful Son, it is hard to wait:
to wait for things which seem to be good and right and glorifying to you;
to wait for wants and to wait for needs.
Sometimes it seems that You are silent.

Teach us, Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer,
to trust that when You seem silent, You are not inactive;
that when you seem silent, we are still a part of Your wonderful plan of redemption;
that when You seem silent, we can still trust You over and above everything else.
Deepen our trust in You.
Give us calm assurance in You.
Give us rest in You.
Prompt us to be more jubilant in hope,
and more patient in times of trouble, worry, and want.
Urge us—even burden us—
with a desire to go to You always in prayer with the confidence, persistence and hope of a beloved child.

Teach us, Lord, to wait with faith and expectancy.
And by this, grow us, fulfill, us change us, encourage us, and challenge us.
Give us this grace,
so that we might trust in and follow You alone.
We pray this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

My circumstances tell me that I’m an abandoned orphan who might as well rock silently in my misery, for no one is coming to help me. But the Word of God tells me something altogether different. I am God’s adopted child. Though one week of unanswered prayers seems like a hundred to me, a thousand years is like one day to God (2 Peter 3:8). What seems like excruciating delay in my view of time is still swift on God’s timetable. And though my prayers seem to be weak and ineffective, God says they are powerful and effective (James 5:16). They accomplish much! Waiting seems of little value to me. It’s drudgery. Wouldn’t it be more helpful to the kingdom to accomplish this stuff and get moving on to the next thing? God says in His Word that waiting is good and promises blessing on those who wait on Him. But even more than that, He gives me Psalms 69 to aid me in the struggle to wait. He equips me to stay engaged with Him by giving me this prayer of David’s.

1 Save me, O God!
For the waters have come up to my neck.
2 I sink in deep mire,
where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me.
3 I am weary with my crying out;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
with waiting for my God.
…
13 But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD.
At an acceptable time, O God,
in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness.
14 Deliver me
from sinking in the mire;
let me be delivered from my enemies
and from the deep waters.
15 Let not the flood sweep over me,
or the deep swallow me up,
or the pit close its mouth over me.
16 Answer me, O LORD, for your steadfast love is good;
according to your abundant mercy, turn to me.
17 Hide not your face from your servant;
for I am in distress; make haste to answer me.
18 Draw near to my soul, redeem me;
ransom me because of my enemies!
…
29 But I am afflicted and in pain;
let your salvation, O God, set me on high!
30 I will praise the name of God with a song;
I will magnify him with thanksgiving.
31 This will please the LORD more than an ox
or a bull with horns and hoofs.
32 When the humble see it they will be glad;
you who seek God, let your hearts revive.
33 For the LORD hears the needy
and does not despise his own people who are prisoners.
34 Let heaven and earth praise him,
the seas and everything that moves in them.
35 For God will save Zion
and build up the cities of Judah,
and people shall dwell there and possess it;
36 the offspring of his servants shall inherit it,
and those who love his name shall dwell in it.

I love the model in this lament. David’s cry to God is raw in its pain. Yet he ends with praise. My pastor pointed out in this Sunday’s sermon that lament is not a destination. God welcomes it, even encourages it. Yet it is not to be the place we park. It’s a gateway to trust and praise. And David models it well for us in Psalms 69.

Instead of seeing myself as the abandoned orphan crying out to no one, God reminds me that I am His precious child. Just as my children’s sense of time differs greatly from my own, so does mine from my Father in heaven. He may wait to provide, but He will provide. As I lament in my waiting, may I always end parked on trust in Him.

Pressed to the Father in Suffering

I was rereading the first posts I wrote for this blog. I came across one on Miscarriage and the Father that begged to be updated and reposted.

A friend called me after she went to the doctor for an ultrasound to find out the sex of her baby and instead was informed that her baby had died. She needed to decide if she should have a D & C or wait on a natural miscarriage. There were emotional and physical pros and cons of each. While I have miscarried and could identify with her at one level, I have never had a D & C and didn’t have much wisdom to offer one way or the other on that.

But we talked about God the Father. She already knew the truth of God’s character, but it was helpful to us both to talk through it again.

God the Father is sovereign—in laymen’s terms, He’s in control.

God the Father is wise—He knows what He’s doing.

God the Father is compassionate—He loves His children.

Another friend shared with me that after working through her long term infertility and even adopting a child, she is facing the same emotions and struggles all over again after their attempts to adopt a second child fell through. These circumstances cloud our ability to see our sovereign wise, and compassionate Father. Suddenly, we wonder if He really does know what He's doing? And if He does, maybe He's not in control after all. But most often, we think that while He is in control, He couldn't possibly love us and still allow this kind of suffering in our lives. The cloud of our circumstances obscures His love and compassion for His children.

And here is the crossroads. Do I let my circumstances inform how I view my Father? Or do I let Scripture's truth of my Father inform how I view my circumstances? That is where we must wrestle in these moments. Thanks to Mrs. Kissam, my 8th grade Latin teacher, I know that the term compassion is from the root Latin words for suffering together (com—with or together, and pati—to suffer). Meditating on the root of this term opened my eyes to something about my Father. If Scripture is to be believed, then He doesn’t just generally feel sorry for me or love me with a standoffish type of concern. He enters into my suffering. He suffers WITH me.

Exodus 34:6 (NIV) And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, "The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness,

Understanding the term compassion, that God accompanies us in our suffering, leads me to wonder about this verse on Paul’s desire to enter into Jesus’ suffering.

Philippians 3:10 (NIV) I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,

I can’t say I fully understand either one—God entering into my suffering or the possibility of fellowship with Christ in His. But as I go through my own suffering, it changes my perspective significantly to think that my Sovereign Father is walking intimately with me through it. Suffering can separate us from God. I've had moments where I was so mad and frustrated with God that I couldn't even turn my face toward my Bible and avoided prayer because I didn't want to put into words how disappointed I was with Him. But suffering can also bind us to God. It often takes extended suffering to do this--where you've held yourself aloof from Him until you are exhausted. You fall into His arms because you have nowhere else to fall, and you rest in Him. It's the cycle of suffering -- those first days where you have a naive, almost giddy hope in God doing something big, which then dulls over time into numbness and/or anger. Then you hit complete exhaustion before being pressed so closely to Him that you finally understand the phrase "fellowship of suffering."

In those moments when the cloud of your circumstances hinder your view of your Father, preach the truth of His character to yourself. And when you are exhausted from it all, fall. It's ok. Your wise Father who is in control of all things is WITH you in your suffering. He will catch you.

How long will you bear with me?

Love is patient … (I Cor. 13: 4)

Encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with all. (I Thess. 5:14)

Keep loving one another earnestly … (I Peter 4:8)

I have a few friendships that have involved long seasons of enduring. It could be enduring physical suffering. It could be enduring emotional devastation from broken relationships. It could be enduring disillusionment with the Church and Christianity. For most, it’s a combination of some or all of the above. Sometimes, I’ve endured well. Sometimes, I’ve given up. “Really, you should be past this by now!” I read this excerpt today from Shattered Dreams by Larry Crabb, which I also wrote about here.

We Christians are an impatient lot. We insist on gathering grain before it grows. We want to see flowers before spring and fruit before fall. When a brother or sister is going through a tough time, we insist that the Spirit’s work be obvious. Unless they speak of their trials from a spiritual perspective, we tend to apply pressure more than we dispense grace. We rarely belive that life is hidden in the barren tree. Let a friend express his exasperation with a four-letter word, and immediately we’re more concerned with his language than with his agony (oh, how painfully convicting).

No farmer goes to the orchard in winter to pick apples. Christians do it all the time. And when the fruit isn’t there, we walk off in disgust. The good farmer patiently waits with his basket, knowing he will soon fill it with delicious fruit. …

Two unwritten rules eventually surface in our response to one who hurts. First, mourning has a time limit. … At some point, we insist on victory. Second, we think there’s a proper way to mourn. Ugly battles should remain out of sight. … Church is too often a place of pretense and therefore a place without hope. When brokenness is disdained, where the real story is never told, the power of God is not felt. Where brokenness is invited and received with grace, the gospel comes alive with hope.

Crabb’s insight is very convicting to me. I get really angry when I watch other Christians give up on each other and write each other off. I hate it when I see their dispensations of grace expire on each other, and they either walk away or turn against one another. Yet, I do it too. I give up. I turn against. And sometimes, I just walk away. I like the old Kenny Rogers song, “You gotta know when to walk away, know when to run.” But much harder than running away is staying engaged in painful situations. It’s easier to write people off than endure for the long haul with a hope that transcends results I see this week, this month, or this year. Yet, that is the hope to which God calls us--a hope for ourselves, but also a hope for those around us.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends. (I Cor. 13:7-8)

"Lay down your deadly doing."

I’m nearing the end of Counsel from the Cross, and this is likely my last excerpt from it. Dennis Johnson and Elyse Fitzpatrick have certainly made my blogging easy the last month. This is from one of the final chapters on The Gospel Story verses our own Story of Self Glory.

… many Christians … are “swimming in a sea of narcissistic moralism.” We think we can live happy, perfected lives if we just ferret out the right key to get God to unlock all his treasure and make us healthy, wealthy, and wise. Make no mistake: this moralism---whether for more shallow endeavors such as just having a “good day” or for nobler goals, such as making life better for our families or assuring ourselves that God still smiles on us---is, as Horton writes, narcissistic. It is all about us and all for us and our glory.

Although all true Christians recognize their need for a crucified Savior to begin their life of faith, most of them fall back into their innate belief in self-glorification once they get saved. Whether Happy Moralists or Sad, nearly all Christians believe that the answer to their problem is just around the corner. They will have it once they find the secret to their perfect life, once they throw off that distressing habit, once they find the right spouse/child/job/home/church, once they uncover their idols, once they learn how to pray the magic words, and on and on their whole life through.

The Happy Moralist will read one self-help book after another, while the Sad Moralist will seek deeper and deeper self-understanding and repentance. In fact, we are so proud and convinced of our perfectibility that even living in the light of the gospel can be twisted into a secret self-improvement regimen….

Oh. My. Word. They really nailed it with that last paragraph. The answer to all this? LAY DOWN YOUR DEADLY DOING (your deadly self analyzing and introspection that leads to condemnation and discouragement and your deadly self-discipline that leads to pride and Jesus-less self confidence.)

Utterly despairing of our ability must lead us to Christ and to trust in him to work in us and make us willing and able to serve him (Phil. 2:12). Paul prayed that God would make the Thessalonians “worthy of his calling” and the Lord would “fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thess. 1:11-12).

All our obedience, every resolve to do good, and every work of faith is “by his power” and so that the Lord Jesus would be glorified because of the grace he gives.

Yes, we must pursue obedience, but that obedience must always be cruciform, formed by Christ’s cross. We must seek to obey because of the cross, find the grace to obey because of the cross, and live free from condemnation whether we succeed or fail in light of the cross. The cross must be our only story, as Paul boldly proclaimed: “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (I Cor. 2:2).

The cross must be my only story. I meditate today on what it looks like at each turn of my day to rest in its shadow.

"The Gospel is the Environment for our Parenting."

Another nugget of wisdom from Counsel from the Cross, this time on gospel-centered parenting. I wrote some about this in a post a while back on discipline verses punsishment, subtitled parenting our children the way God parents His.

What does gospel-centered parenting look like? Here is how Paul put it:

“Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4); and “Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged” (Col. 3:21).

Isn’t it easy to see how Paul’s counsel to parents is based on God’s gracious pattern with us? We are not to be harsh or demanding with our children. We are not to provoke them to anger or discourage them. Of course, the obvious question we have to consider is what will provoke them or discourage them, and, by contrast, what does it look like to discipline and instruct “in the Lord”?

Although there are many ways we can provoke our kids in disciplining them, we learn from Paul’s expositions of grace in these epistles that we provoke and discourage our children when we forget the gospel and demand, as a condition of our approval and affection, that they obey the law that “neither our fathers not we have been able to bear” (Acts 15:10). By itself, God’s law, although it is “holy and righteous and good” (Rom. 7:12), will serve only to aggravate or discourage them. The law will stir up within them the desire to sin because they are not able to obey it. It won’t furnish them with the power or motivation to obey us or the Lord. The law has its uses with our children, but making them good isn’t one of them. Only the gospel and God’s grace can change hearts.

The proper place and function of the law is something that we might recognize in our own lives but fail to believe when it comes to raising our children. We know that we don’t change and mature by making a list of things we need to do and then scrutinizing our failures when we don’t do them. But, amazingly, we think that’s how our children will change. But when they cry that they can’t obey, we should agree with them, although it is true that we are to acquaint them with the law’s demands.

Rather than telling them that they can and will obey, we must tell them—frankly, gently, sadly—that they cannot obey. They need help. They need Jesus. Making a list and giving stickers and time-outs when they succeed or fail won’t change their hearts. It may make them little Pharisees, knowing how to look obedient so that they can get approval, but it won’t change their hearts. We are to use their disobediences as a gospel opportunity to remind them that they are sinful and flawed, but if they flee to Jesus he will love and welcome them. We must remind them that they “do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with (their) weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as (they) are, yet without sin. Let (them) then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that (they) may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:15-16).

Jesus understands their weaknesses. He knows about temptations. When we—and our children—struggle with obedience, we can draw near to the throne of grace where we won’t receive judgment and punishment, but mercy and grace to help. That is the portrait of the Savior that our children need to see. This is the image that will transform their hearts and teach them to run to him, rather than away from him, when they sin.

… The gospel is the environment of our parenting.

Naïve supporters of broken ministries

I had the chance to read an email exchange between two people that I did not know who were both associated with ministries I did not know. One person was pointing out to a staff person at a church that a ministry they supported had actually been involved in child abuse and financial bad dealings. The accusation was well documented and definitely not hearsay, and the email was politely worded. The response she received back was rude, defensive, and illogical. Though I didn’t know who the people were or the ministries with which they were associated, that email exchange did remind me of something that I’ve observed again and again since my youth growing up in conservative Christianity. Every ministry reaches a crossroads—where at some point you have a growing number of critics pointing out serious problems in your ministry. Only a precious few of those ministries will believe strongly enough in their own need to self examine and self correct (and make restitution) to do the right thing that will ensure their survival as a HEALTHY ministry. The vast majority has the same corporate human nature that we individually do. They choose a misguided notion of self-preservation over self-examination and correction. They want to preserve their momentum, so even good people who aren’t the actual perpetrators of institutional sin will attempt to minimize the bad done, sweeping it under the carpet, pacifying who they can without actually dealing with the issue. They choose to think of their critics as persecutors, which leads them to insulate from the sin of others outside their camp and avoid self examination of the much more dangerous sin within the camp. They don’t realize that the SIN WITHIN will destroy them and that their acts of self-preservation will actually be the beginning of the end for their ministry. Every leader of a successful ministry will at some point have to choose between doing the right thing (dealing with sin correctly even if it means slowing down and potentially undermining growth for a season) or the expedient thing (ignoring sin issues in your history, pretending it isn’t so bad, and that it doesn’t hurt as many people as it really does).

As I think about the email exchange I read involving the naïve supporter rudely defending an obviously bad idea, I thought about why so many of us in a ministry have such a hard time facing the obvious. Here are my observations from watching this from the sidelines with several major ministries—including churches, schools, and other parachurch organizations.

For so many of us, we don’t really believe something THAT bad is going on or is even possible until it happens to US. “Surely the people complaining are just bitter gossips. So much GOOD is happening here. How could something that bad really be true?” Sometimes even when it happens to us, we’re in denial. It’s much like the old story of the Emperor who is wearing no clothes. The power of getting labeled stupid or incompetent keeps everyone (even himself) from admitting that he truly is wearing no clothes. Our coping mechanisms for ignoring the obvious when our security is threatened are fascinating. Disturbing, but fascinating.

To build on the last point, we’re insecure. We can’t handle the truth. We don’t deal with sin because we are afraid of admitting it is even there. It threatens us. And it certainly threatens us when the sin we need to acknowledge involves people or ministries that make us feel safe from the world. The exposure of sin threatens us because we don’t simultaneously believe that the gospel is an effective antidote for that sin. We are more afraid of exposing sin than confident in the gospel's remedy for it.

Most of all, we’re afraid of undermining all the good, happy, or safe things we enjoy if we face head on the facts of the problems. We don’t really understand the nature of sin. Because sin unaddressed and unrestrained will destroy everything it touches until it is exposed.

Here is the hard truth of life. You HAVE to deal with sin. And you HAVE to deal with it with the gospel. And this hard truth applies EVERYWHERE. In your marriage, you have to deal with sin in light of the gospel. With your children, you have to deal with sin in light of the gospel. In your church, your Christian college, or your parachurch organization, you have to deal with institutional or individual sin in light of the gospel. It doesn’t matter how much good you perceive you or your particular ministry has done or is doing, you have to face its mistakes and shortcomings head on and DEAL with it. Exposing sin apart from the gospel and the hope Christ gives us for putting it to death is horrible. It destroys. But ignoring sin for fear of that destruction devastates us at a soul deep level too. Both are equally destructive. There is a third way, distinct from each, to which God calls us. Face it. Admit it. Even if you are afraid it will destroy you. Ask forgiveness. Seek to correct it. Humble yourself before those you have sinned against. Sit in the shadow of the cross for a season and meditate on how it allows you to be honest about your sin so that it no longer defines who you are. And then get up and go in a new direction in light of it all.

Naïve supporter of a broken ministry, the emperor really doesn’t have any clothes on, and though you think you’ll get labeled incompetent or stupid (or in Christian circles, rebellious) to admit it out loud, he’ll ignore his own nakedness and never put on real clothes until someone who loves him risks the label to tell him the truth.

Psalm 141:5
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness;
let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head;
let my head not refuse it.
Yet my prayer is continually against their evil deeds.

Proverbs 27:6
Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy.