Sin shuts down our hearts. It is the by-product of isolation and self-protection. It is the master of broken relationships. It is a simple turning away from God which turns into a complex and warped sense of reality, which God never intended for us to live. Sin is something that causes us and others deep pain and horrible scars that affect the entire storyline of our lives.
Yet, like the apostle Paul, I must admit that there is this great inertia or part of me that wants to continue to sin. I find myself falling into the old sin patterns and I begin to ask myself, “Why do I continue to do these things and why don’t I want to resolve these sin patterns?”
In all reality, the effects of sin are so devastating that in our heart of hearts, we desperately want to be rid of this negative side—this old nature. The problem is we face a part of us that includes incorrect motivations to resolve sin in the first place. Some of these are: looking good in front of others, getting what I want from God, getting what I want from my husband or wife or children, a desire to avoid shame or embarrassment, proving myself to me or God or others, avoiding the negative so I don’t have to feel bad any longer, and appeasing God to keep Him off my back.
Recently, it has occurred to me that as I’ve trusted God and we’ve begun working on my sin together, that I’ve found myself affirming others more often in my conversations. I’ve begun to see the image of God reflected in them or even seen Christ in them, and I’ve begun to tell them that I see Him inside of them or that they reflect the image of God. I’ve been able to see the risks in relationships that friends are taking, the leadership that they’ve demonstrated with their spouses or children, or pointed out the compassion I see that they have for others. It’s as if by my trusting God to work on my sin that I now see Him more clearly in the lives of those around me. The process of resolving sin slowly takes away this dullness which clouds my ability to see the good in others and affirm them with complements that I believe are truly from God Himself.
Bottom line: I want to come into the light, take off my masks of control and self-protection, receive love, stop trying to manage my sin, allow others to help me with my sin and weaknesses, forgive and be forgiven, and allow God to work alongside of me in the process of resolving sin because it transforms me into a man who can give, serve, love, protect, affirm, and tell others who they really are. For me, this has been so much fun and I’ve been able to have little spurts of joy when these things happen.
Before, I was so wrapped up in my own self-based motives for resolving sin that I could never see that the process of resolving my sin is primarily so that I can enter the lives of others and infect them with the kind of “Good Infection” that C.S. Lewis talks about. Christ in me stirs up Christ in those around me. He reaches out to those who are lost. He does acts of service, words of encouragement, hugs those who need to be hugged, and spends time quality time with others.
I myself oscillate between these two motives—self-based and others based. His dreams for me are that I would believe who He says I am already in-Christ and that I would see that the end-goal is for me to rub that belief off onto others. Jesus says in the Beatitudes, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Resolving sin in the here-and-now is motivated by my desire to see God in others and in my circumstances, whereby I see His glory. Without resolving sin, I have no ability to rub off His nature onto those around me in any way that might be called effective, because I have a hard time seeing Him inside of or reflected off of them in the first place.
One thing I want to be very clear about is that I haven't come very far yet. I still have lots of sin issues that need healing. The time line isn't what matters to God. What matters is that I've begun to get into the process of trusting God with my sin and that has allowed me to see Him in those around me. In conclusion, my joy to tell others who they really are (through word and deed) is one major reason I ask God to take me through the process of resolving my sin in the here-and-now. It is like taking off blinders that allows me more and more to see the reality of God in His true light.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
I had Coffee with God the other Day. His Name was Chris.
I had coffee with God the other day. His name was Chris. Chris is a fellow believer in Christ and for some reason that evening, I realized that because he carries Christ inside of him that I was literally sitting in the presence of God. Low and behold, we had a great evening.
Seriously, think about it. If those of us who trust God’s heart (to rescue us through the cross) really do have the God of the universe living inside of us, then isn’t it true that every time I meet with someone for coffee, for example, like my friend Chris the other night, that I am literally sitting next to God and having a conversation with Him? Now, let’s not get all uptight with the language I’m using here. I don’t mean that my friend Chris “is” God, but rather that God, through Christ, lives inside of him. His new name is Christ-in-Chris. My new name is Christ-in-Steven. This means that Christ lives inside of me (and also anyone else who cares to call Him the God of the universe). Take this to its logical conclusion and we have to admit that in a certain sense, anyone who comes into contact with me or Chris or any other believer is literally standing in the presence of God. We simply put a face to His presence.
Of course, God is omnipresent. This means that he is everywhere all at one time or at least He is able to be everywhere all at one time, or something like this. I don’t really know how it works. But, in addition to that, for some reason we also must acknowledge that there is a special way in which He is reconciling the world to Himself through those of us who carry Him in us as believers. Those who stand in our presence, therefore, stand in the presence of God in a particular and a unique way. They stand in the presence of Christ-in-Steven or Christ-in-Chris.
This is completely and unequivocally lacking pride in any way. When I think about the fact that anyone around me stands in the presence of Christ-inside-of-me, it actually creates a separation between me and God and this gives Him total credit for any positive influence I bring to the other person. This profound influence I have on others is based on Him. Yet, it must also be said that my understanding that God lives inside of me and is influencing those around me also brings a profound sense of affirmation that the God of the universe is pleased to dwell within me. He has no reservations for doing so. He is pleased with me as I trust Him to live His life through me and proud of the influence I have on those around me. In this sense, I feel a stronger connection to God, despite the increased understanding of His separateness, as well. Tricky, isn't it?
Therefore, let us remember that we carry Christ everywhere we go and that even on our worst day, those around us stand in His presence in a unique way. God chooses to put on our face in reaching out to those around us.
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Some of these ideas from the next to last paragraph are lightly taken from a sermon last weekend, but the main idea of this blog entry is something I've stumbled upon over the past couple weeks in reflecting on my meetings with other believers.
Seriously, think about it. If those of us who trust God’s heart (to rescue us through the cross) really do have the God of the universe living inside of us, then isn’t it true that every time I meet with someone for coffee, for example, like my friend Chris the other night, that I am literally sitting next to God and having a conversation with Him? Now, let’s not get all uptight with the language I’m using here. I don’t mean that my friend Chris “is” God, but rather that God, through Christ, lives inside of him. His new name is Christ-in-Chris. My new name is Christ-in-Steven. This means that Christ lives inside of me (and also anyone else who cares to call Him the God of the universe). Take this to its logical conclusion and we have to admit that in a certain sense, anyone who comes into contact with me or Chris or any other believer is literally standing in the presence of God. We simply put a face to His presence.
Of course, God is omnipresent. This means that he is everywhere all at one time or at least He is able to be everywhere all at one time, or something like this. I don’t really know how it works. But, in addition to that, for some reason we also must acknowledge that there is a special way in which He is reconciling the world to Himself through those of us who carry Him in us as believers. Those who stand in our presence, therefore, stand in the presence of God in a particular and a unique way. They stand in the presence of Christ-in-Steven or Christ-in-Chris.
This is completely and unequivocally lacking pride in any way. When I think about the fact that anyone around me stands in the presence of Christ-inside-of-me, it actually creates a separation between me and God and this gives Him total credit for any positive influence I bring to the other person. This profound influence I have on others is based on Him. Yet, it must also be said that my understanding that God lives inside of me and is influencing those around me also brings a profound sense of affirmation that the God of the universe is pleased to dwell within me. He has no reservations for doing so. He is pleased with me as I trust Him to live His life through me and proud of the influence I have on those around me. In this sense, I feel a stronger connection to God, despite the increased understanding of His separateness, as well. Tricky, isn't it?
Therefore, let us remember that we carry Christ everywhere we go and that even on our worst day, those around us stand in His presence in a unique way. God chooses to put on our face in reaching out to those around us.
________________________________________
Some of these ideas from the next to last paragraph are lightly taken from a sermon last weekend, but the main idea of this blog entry is something I've stumbled upon over the past couple weeks in reflecting on my meetings with other believers.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The Misunderstanding of Romans 12:2
In Romans 12:2 it says, “2Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."
I used to think this verse meant “get your act together and stop sinning.” I spent years trying to apply the verse in this way. But what if getting our acts together and stopping sin wasn't even the point behind this verse? What if the point wasn't to stop sinning, but to transform our minds? And, what is it that leads to the transforming of our minds in the first place? Is it that we stop sinning? No. We will always do that. No amount of keeping the moral law will transform our minds. In fact, it is just the opposite. The more I focus on trying to keep the moral law, the more I will break it. Try to stop thinking about a pink elephant and see what happens.
The opposite of focusing on keeping the moral law is that I find myself turning to God and realizing who He says I am. He says I'm 100% forgiven already. He says I'm a saint. He says I'm His chosen one. He puts His arm around me in my deepest, darkest moment and says, "Son (or daughter), I'm here with you. You are in the middle of sin this very moment, but I'm here with you because I no longer count it against you. In fact, I stripped it away from you. Now, we are onto the process of healing you from the damage you have done and will do to yourself and others. This is now about healing now."
The world (and even more often the church) tells us that the pattern we must follow in order to be transformed into godliness is by sinning less and getting our act together. God tells us that the pattern we must follow in order to be transformed into godliness is truly recognizing that we have already been transformed into a godly creature by Him.* In this way our underlying beliefs about God's character and His value in us is what must be transformed, not our behavior. We must know that God thinks we are worth everything. The extent to which we know this about His character is the extent to which we see how glorious He is.
Over time, when we look in hindsight, we will periodically recognize how our behavior has changed as well. The changed behavior, however, only reflects the transformation that has already occurred by the renewing of our minds.
The world (and even more often the church) tells us that the pattern we must follow in order to be transformed into godliness is by sinning less and getting our act together. God tells us that the pattern we must follow in order to be transformed into godliness is truly recognizing that we have already been transformed into a godly creature by Him.* In this way our underlying beliefs about God's character and His value in us is what must be transformed, not our behavior. We must know that God thinks we are worth everything. The extent to which we know this about His character is the extent to which we see how glorious He is.
Over time, when we look in hindsight, we will periodically recognize how our behavior has changed as well. The changed behavior, however, only reflects the transformation that has already occurred by the renewing of our minds.
2011 addendum: About 6 months ago, I began to think of transforming my behavior in light of a transformed mind. What does this look like? One thing I have begun to do is to try to do good instead of eliminating sin. I can't defeat sin. But, I can focus on doing good. Thus, we don't break out of sin patterns and cycles by stopping them. We break out of them by doing good in the middle of them. We focus on the good. Then, I believe, the sin patterns begin to change over time. Currently, I'm making better decisions than ever before. Why? I'm focusing on doing good instead of trying to eliminate sin. This is a mindset that lives under grace.
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*This is the pattern of grace versus the pattern of legalism. I might as well summarize the whole blog entry by simply saying Romans 12:2 could be translated/interpreted as saying, "Do not conform to legalism, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."
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*This is the pattern of grace versus the pattern of legalism. I might as well summarize the whole blog entry by simply saying Romans 12:2 could be translated/interpreted as saying, "Do not conform to legalism, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Risk Taking is a Risky Business, Especially in Pakistan. Or, is it?
About 120 men* and I got on some airplanes and headed off to Pakistan in December 2006. An earthquake had killed 80,000 people (and destroyed the homes of so many) both in the cities and mountainous regions. Our assignment was to build as many shelters as possible in the mountains before the winter snow came. It was truly a “Wild at Heart” experience for those of you who are familiar with that book by John Eldridge.
I was on what we called the “third wave” or third group out of the 120. The first risk we encountered (even before our departure) was not one I'd anticipated ahead of time. We were getting reports that men on the first two waves were arriving without their gear and without their clothing. It sort of got lost in the airline-baggage-shuffle. Guys were out there, bumming clothes and food off others, sort of like soldiers in D-Day who lost weapons and ammo on the drop (Not nearly the desperation of D-Day, by any means, of course). We all got on the plane and prayed we’d receive our luggage on the other side.
The second risk was more personal. My knee had been severely bothering me. I didn't know the source of the pain, but it was real and it was freaking me out, thinking about hiking and working at four to eight thousand feet. I’d procrastinated seeing a doctor and this shelter building trip came up too quickly to see a doctor before we left. I was fully funded and ready to go, but I was afraid I might tear an ACL or something hiking up those mountains. I confided in two friends of mine (also on the trip) for their advice. They encouraged me to go as far as I could. Get me at least to the base camp, even if I couldn't work. Or, if was working and something snapped, they told me they'd carry me back down if they needed to. Talk about a couple of guys who had my back; or, my knee, for that matter.
The other risks were sickness, fatigue, radical religious people who might not like us, and finally all of the mysteriousness of residing among the mountain people of Pakistan for a week. The most difficult risk for married men was being away from their loved ones for such an extended period of time and the strain that meant to their relationships.
To tell you the truth, we all fell victim to every single one of these risks, at one point or another. Several lost their luggage, a number of us (including myself) got sick, men who missed their wives looked like sick dogs, and everyone was physically strained. One of the men from a previous group had a heart attack and died on the mountain.
What happened to my knee? All along the plane flight it had been hurting even more than before and I thought for sure I had committed some sort of wrong doing by bringing my hurt knee out there to get me into a jam that others would have to care for. Not to mention either that others had funded me for this humanitarian aid action and I thought maybe I was even morally wrong for taking my bad knee and their money.
I've had this weird/irrational sense of moral "wrongness" too in pursuing relationships, as if I'd be morally wrong in pursing them because I might hurt the other person. Or, what if we never had children because we thought we might hurt them? The human race would vanish.
Getting back to the story, I couldn't help but think of my two friends who had encouraged me to go, volunteered to haul me out of there, and thought that it was better for me to go than not to go. Thank God I listened to their advice. Not so much for the results, but because I let them help me, protect me, and meet my need in that moment. Essentially, I had let them love me.
What happened to my knee? It got better. The more I hiked up the mountain, the better it got. The more I worked, the better it got. I checked my knee out later with a doctor and X-ray results showed a minor case of arthritis in my left knee. The mountain essentially rehabilitated my knee.
Risk taking. It's a risky business, especially in Pakistan.
Or, is it? What is the riskier thing to do--build shelters in Pakistan and risk physical harm, or the risks we take in relationships with husbands, wives, children, church, business, and our own hearts? When I trust someone enough to risk letting them help me in an area of my life that I cannot, then that is some serious risk taking. I risk getting taken advantage of, betrayed, or at best, misunderstood or finding someone who doesn't know how to help me. The old patterns want to take over. I want to run, hide, and protect myself from a violation of such trust in the future. I won't risk relationships with others, the very thing that I need the most.
Finally, there is a payoff. When I find others I can trust with who I really am, then I can begin to heal by receiving their love. Just like I allowed my friends to encourage me to get on the plane with my hurting knee (which was then rehabilitated) so too I must take the risk of finding those who I can trust to help me with my "spiritually broken knees". This is the greatest risk taking of all.
Do you have a couple others who can help you get on the plane with your huring knee or your hurting spirit? If not, then you gotta find them.**
______________________________________
*I can't actually remember the exact number.
**For help on how to do this, read "True Faced: Trusting God and others with who you really are" by Thrall, McNichol, & Lynch. Also, "Making Small Groups Work" by Cloud and Townsend is a huge help.
I was on what we called the “third wave” or third group out of the 120. The first risk we encountered (even before our departure) was not one I'd anticipated ahead of time. We were getting reports that men on the first two waves were arriving without their gear and without their clothing. It sort of got lost in the airline-baggage-shuffle. Guys were out there, bumming clothes and food off others, sort of like soldiers in D-Day who lost weapons and ammo on the drop (Not nearly the desperation of D-Day, by any means, of course). We all got on the plane and prayed we’d receive our luggage on the other side.
The second risk was more personal. My knee had been severely bothering me. I didn't know the source of the pain, but it was real and it was freaking me out, thinking about hiking and working at four to eight thousand feet. I’d procrastinated seeing a doctor and this shelter building trip came up too quickly to see a doctor before we left. I was fully funded and ready to go, but I was afraid I might tear an ACL or something hiking up those mountains. I confided in two friends of mine (also on the trip) for their advice. They encouraged me to go as far as I could. Get me at least to the base camp, even if I couldn't work. Or, if was working and something snapped, they told me they'd carry me back down if they needed to. Talk about a couple of guys who had my back; or, my knee, for that matter.
The other risks were sickness, fatigue, radical religious people who might not like us, and finally all of the mysteriousness of residing among the mountain people of Pakistan for a week. The most difficult risk for married men was being away from their loved ones for such an extended period of time and the strain that meant to their relationships.
To tell you the truth, we all fell victim to every single one of these risks, at one point or another. Several lost their luggage, a number of us (including myself) got sick, men who missed their wives looked like sick dogs, and everyone was physically strained. One of the men from a previous group had a heart attack and died on the mountain.
What happened to my knee? All along the plane flight it had been hurting even more than before and I thought for sure I had committed some sort of wrong doing by bringing my hurt knee out there to get me into a jam that others would have to care for. Not to mention either that others had funded me for this humanitarian aid action and I thought maybe I was even morally wrong for taking my bad knee and their money.
I've had this weird/irrational sense of moral "wrongness" too in pursuing relationships, as if I'd be morally wrong in pursing them because I might hurt the other person. Or, what if we never had children because we thought we might hurt them? The human race would vanish.
Getting back to the story, I couldn't help but think of my two friends who had encouraged me to go, volunteered to haul me out of there, and thought that it was better for me to go than not to go. Thank God I listened to their advice. Not so much for the results, but because I let them help me, protect me, and meet my need in that moment. Essentially, I had let them love me.
What happened to my knee? It got better. The more I hiked up the mountain, the better it got. The more I worked, the better it got. I checked my knee out later with a doctor and X-ray results showed a minor case of arthritis in my left knee. The mountain essentially rehabilitated my knee.
Risk taking. It's a risky business, especially in Pakistan.
Or, is it? What is the riskier thing to do--build shelters in Pakistan and risk physical harm, or the risks we take in relationships with husbands, wives, children, church, business, and our own hearts? When I trust someone enough to risk letting them help me in an area of my life that I cannot, then that is some serious risk taking. I risk getting taken advantage of, betrayed, or at best, misunderstood or finding someone who doesn't know how to help me. The old patterns want to take over. I want to run, hide, and protect myself from a violation of such trust in the future. I won't risk relationships with others, the very thing that I need the most.
Finally, there is a payoff. When I find others I can trust with who I really am, then I can begin to heal by receiving their love. Just like I allowed my friends to encourage me to get on the plane with my hurting knee (which was then rehabilitated) so too I must take the risk of finding those who I can trust to help me with my "spiritually broken knees". This is the greatest risk taking of all.
Do you have a couple others who can help you get on the plane with your huring knee or your hurting spirit? If not, then you gotta find them.**
______________________________________
*I can't actually remember the exact number.
**For help on how to do this, read "True Faced: Trusting God and others with who you really are" by Thrall, McNichol, & Lynch. Also, "Making Small Groups Work" by Cloud and Townsend is a huge help.
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