Hey, y'all,
Have had this sitting in my "on-deck circle" of RSTs for months -- seems like a good place to talk about it.
"...No man who has the true ideal of what constitutes a perfect character will fail to manifest the sympathy and tenderness of Christ. The influence of grace is to soften the heart, to refine and purify the feelings, giving a heaven-born delicacy and sense of propriety...
"A religion that leads men to place a low estimate upon human beings, whom Christ has esteemed of such value as to give Himself for them, a religion that would lead us to be careless of human needs, sufferings, or rights, is a spurious religion...
"It is because men take upon themselves the name of Christ, while in life they deny His character, that Christianity has so little power in the world."
—E G White, Thoughts From the Mount of Blessing, pp. 135-137
A couple of 'ouches' there:
Can't say I haven't (on a regular basis, good grief!) failed to "manifest the sympathy and tenderness of Christ" -- but I'm sure it's probably just me :-). And that's pretty potent stuff there at the end: "It is because men take upon themselves the name of Christ, while in life they deny His character, that Christianity has so little power in the world." How true is that?!? And how significant exactly is my contribution to that depressing little equation?
Interesting how grace isn't described as some namby-pamby soft-and-fuzzy little nothing; it's characterized as having powerful, transformative power. Thus, if I'm not being consistently changed by my acceptance of God's grace (manifested as a vital, life-altering relationship with Him), how authentic was the 'grace experience' really?
You've been prayed for today...
J
Monday, March 8, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Faith? (Part 2)
Following up the last post...
"Faith is seen in the substance of a life lived in service to others." [True religion is not] "...a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God, but only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men."
That's the hard question you need to ask yourself right there: what is your faith, your religion (or lack thereof), actually doing, how is it working on your mind, your soul, to motivate you to improve the lot of all of God's children here below? Not just your spouse, or your children, or your friends, not just the deserving (whatever that means to you), but the wretched, the most vulnerable, the least lovable.
Is your "faith" simply a warm, comfortable little 'something' that you take once a week (or less) to feel better? Is church just a social club where you pat yourselves on the back while saying tsk-tsk at what you see in the world around you?
Does it speak "only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men?" Does it encourage you to turn away, holding your nose while looking beyond this present reality, focusing instead on your "eternal reward?" Or does it soften you to the plight of others, does it inspire you to serve, to give, perhaps even painfully, expecting nothing in return?
The crux of the matter is this: it matters not how much "truth" your religion lays claim to; it matters even less that you think you're right about this, that, or the other. Real faith is not cheap, it is not static nor weak; true religion is in fact costly, it is powerful, it works. If your beliefs do not move you toward service and even self-sacrifice, then they merit reconsideration--and perhaps outright rejection.
The inescapable truth is that any belief system that does not result in service to others is indeed "a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God."
You've been prayed for today...
J
"Faith is seen in the substance of a life lived in service to others." [True religion is not] "...a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God, but only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men."
That's the hard question you need to ask yourself right there: what is your faith, your religion (or lack thereof), actually doing, how is it working on your mind, your soul, to motivate you to improve the lot of all of God's children here below? Not just your spouse, or your children, or your friends, not just the deserving (whatever that means to you), but the wretched, the most vulnerable, the least lovable.
Is your "faith" simply a warm, comfortable little 'something' that you take once a week (or less) to feel better? Is church just a social club where you pat yourselves on the back while saying tsk-tsk at what you see in the world around you?
Does it speak "only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men?" Does it encourage you to turn away, holding your nose while looking beyond this present reality, focusing instead on your "eternal reward?" Or does it soften you to the plight of others, does it inspire you to serve, to give, perhaps even painfully, expecting nothing in return?
The crux of the matter is this: it matters not how much "truth" your religion lays claim to; it matters even less that you think you're right about this, that, or the other. Real faith is not cheap, it is not static nor weak; true religion is in fact costly, it is powerful, it works. If your beliefs do not move you toward service and even self-sacrifice, then they merit reconsideration--and perhaps outright rejection.
The inescapable truth is that any belief system that does not result in service to others is indeed "a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God."
You've been prayed for today...
J
Friday, February 19, 2010
Faith? (Part 1)
Hey, Y'all,
Ran across this in a column by Leonard Pitts; found it interesting because he is not an overtly christian writer, but mostly it really resonated with something Evonne and I (and our church as a whole) have been thinking about and discussing lately...
We specialize in cheesy expressions of faith here in God's favorite country. Indeed, you could build a tower unto heaven itself out of all the roadside Jesuses, prayer cloths, Ten Commandments rocks, and other trinkets of a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God, but only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men.
Last November, the University of Chicago published a study quantifying the blazingly obvious: people tend to create God in their own image, to ascribe to the deity their own opinions, interests and beliefs. But is that really faith, when you reduce God to a bigger version of you?
Mother Teresa's faith drove her to foreswear material riches and spend half a century working to uplift the wretched poor of Calcutta.
Martin Luther King's faith drove him to gamble his very life in a dangerous campaign to win human and civil rights for African-American people...
The point is not that we can do what Martin Luther King did or be who Mother Teresa was -- we all suffer in that comparison. Rather, faith is seen in the substance of a life lived in service to others, lived as if God were not in fact one's personal echo chamber in the sky.
(More to follow).
You've been prayed for today...
Ran across this in a column by Leonard Pitts; found it interesting because he is not an overtly christian writer, but mostly it really resonated with something Evonne and I (and our church as a whole) have been thinking about and discussing lately...
We specialize in cheesy expressions of faith here in God's favorite country. Indeed, you could build a tower unto heaven itself out of all the roadside Jesuses, prayer cloths, Ten Commandments rocks, and other trinkets of a cheap, disposable faith that says nothing, costs nothing, does nothing, risks nothing, and speaks not of God, but only of the grubby, temporal perspectives and fears of ground-bound women and men.
Last November, the University of Chicago published a study quantifying the blazingly obvious: people tend to create God in their own image, to ascribe to the deity their own opinions, interests and beliefs. But is that really faith, when you reduce God to a bigger version of you?
Mother Teresa's faith drove her to foreswear material riches and spend half a century working to uplift the wretched poor of Calcutta.
Martin Luther King's faith drove him to gamble his very life in a dangerous campaign to win human and civil rights for African-American people...
The point is not that we can do what Martin Luther King did or be who Mother Teresa was -- we all suffer in that comparison. Rather, faith is seen in the substance of a life lived in service to others, lived as if God were not in fact one's personal echo chamber in the sky.
(More to follow).
You've been prayed for today...
J
Monday, November 2, 2009
"I am not saved by believing..."
Hey, Y'all,
Nearly 6 weeks since our last post--crazy how time passes, especially when you're trying to keep up with a perpetually awake (by which I mean utterly alive, observing, absorbing everything, and growing like a weed) 4-month-old, moreso in the context of being sick as a dog for over a week (piggy flu, anyone?) and starting the process of moving back home, to say nothing of working on buying a home--sweet! Can't believe our year-long sojourn is almost done...
At any rate, kind reader, here's the thought du jour. Ran across it October 28 in the devotional "My Utmost For His Highest" by Oswald Chambers. Give it a read, then stop for a second and read it again, slowly. Some spiritual writings are too profound for a mere cursory reading, so I'll slow it down, even read it aloud, and very often find that bit of extra lingering over the words lets them wash over and through me in a way I'd otherwise miss. So give it a try--see if God doesn't meet you (more than) half way :-)
I am not saved by believing--I simply realize that I am saved by believing. And it is not repentance that saves me--repentance is only a sign that I realize what God has done through Christ Jesus.
The danger here is putting the emphasis on the effect, instead of the cause. Is it my obedience, consecration, and dedication that make me right with God? It is never that! I am made right with God because, prior to all of that, Christ died for me.
When I turn to God and by belief accept what God reveals, the miraculous atonement by the Cross of Christ instantly places me into a right relationship with God. And as a result of the supernatural miracle of God's grace I stand justified, not because I am sorry for my sin, or because I have repented, but because of what He has done.
The Spirit of God brings justification with a shattering, radiant light, and I know I am saved, even though I don't know how it was accomplished.
You've been prayed for today...
J
Nearly 6 weeks since our last post--crazy how time passes, especially when you're trying to keep up with a perpetually awake (by which I mean utterly alive, observing, absorbing everything, and growing like a weed) 4-month-old, moreso in the context of being sick as a dog for over a week (piggy flu, anyone?) and starting the process of moving back home, to say nothing of working on buying a home--sweet! Can't believe our year-long sojourn is almost done...
At any rate, kind reader, here's the thought du jour. Ran across it October 28 in the devotional "My Utmost For His Highest" by Oswald Chambers. Give it a read, then stop for a second and read it again, slowly. Some spiritual writings are too profound for a mere cursory reading, so I'll slow it down, even read it aloud, and very often find that bit of extra lingering over the words lets them wash over and through me in a way I'd otherwise miss. So give it a try--see if God doesn't meet you (more than) half way :-)
I am not saved by believing--I simply realize that I am saved by believing. And it is not repentance that saves me--repentance is only a sign that I realize what God has done through Christ Jesus.
The danger here is putting the emphasis on the effect, instead of the cause. Is it my obedience, consecration, and dedication that make me right with God? It is never that! I am made right with God because, prior to all of that, Christ died for me.
When I turn to God and by belief accept what God reveals, the miraculous atonement by the Cross of Christ instantly places me into a right relationship with God. And as a result of the supernatural miracle of God's grace I stand justified, not because I am sorry for my sin, or because I have repented, but because of what He has done.
The Spirit of God brings justification with a shattering, radiant light, and I know I am saved, even though I don't know how it was accomplished.
You've been prayed for today...
J
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
"Listening to your life"
Hey, Y'all,
I was looking in my (ironically-labeled, I now realize, as some of these are a couple of years old) "future RST" folder and found this quote whose citation I've apparently lost. Here it is...
I received word recently of the passing of a 68-year-old woman who was a mom and a grandmother--she was involved in an automobile accident which left her in a coma from which she never recovered. In the words of a family friend, she was "just a normal housewife whose family was her career." When they spoke at her funeral, they all spoke about a remarkable woman who had a profound influence on their lives by "merely" being there and being faithful to God.
Here's a truth among truths: there's no substitute for the power of a steady life of faith. It may not hit you over the head, but over time, the reality of a loving life takes hold and you cannot shake it. We often hear about the more glamorous stories of radical change faith can produce, and these are indeed thrilling and inspiring stories, but the real examples are often unclaimed until someone is suddenly taken from us, or we are given time to listen to the silence of someone's life. And that silence can speak volumes.
Think of all the unsung heroes like her who will shine like stars in Heaven. It's not always--no, in fact, it's almost never the convincing argument or the riveting miracle that changes lives. It's much more often the quiet power of a steady faith that leaves the deepest impression and can win over the hardest heart.
If someone listened to your life today, what would they hear? Anxiety, fear, confusion, hurry? Or love and a faith that is bigger than all those things? What speaks loudest in your life? It's a sobering thought and I, for one, have to say I am not real pleased with the results of my own self-assessment in this regard. Good thing we've all got a little more time by the grace of God. Live well today, live well every day. You never know who'll be listening to your life.
You've been prayed for today...
J
I was looking in my (ironically-labeled, I now realize, as some of these are a couple of years old) "future RST" folder and found this quote whose citation I've apparently lost. Here it is...
I received word recently of the passing of a 68-year-old woman who was a mom and a grandmother--she was involved in an automobile accident which left her in a coma from which she never recovered. In the words of a family friend, she was "just a normal housewife whose family was her career." When they spoke at her funeral, they all spoke about a remarkable woman who had a profound influence on their lives by "merely" being there and being faithful to God.
Here's a truth among truths: there's no substitute for the power of a steady life of faith. It may not hit you over the head, but over time, the reality of a loving life takes hold and you cannot shake it. We often hear about the more glamorous stories of radical change faith can produce, and these are indeed thrilling and inspiring stories, but the real examples are often unclaimed until someone is suddenly taken from us, or we are given time to listen to the silence of someone's life. And that silence can speak volumes.
Think of all the unsung heroes like her who will shine like stars in Heaven. It's not always--no, in fact, it's almost never the convincing argument or the riveting miracle that changes lives. It's much more often the quiet power of a steady faith that leaves the deepest impression and can win over the hardest heart.
If someone listened to your life today, what would they hear? Anxiety, fear, confusion, hurry? Or love and a faith that is bigger than all those things? What speaks loudest in your life? It's a sobering thought and I, for one, have to say I am not real pleased with the results of my own self-assessment in this regard. Good thing we've all got a little more time by the grace of God. Live well today, live well every day. You never know who'll be listening to your life.
You've been prayed for today...
J
Sunday, September 13, 2009
"Pour out your heart...Lift up your hands" (Part 2)
Hey, Y'all,
Wow, a week already -- good grief! OK, on to Part 2.
So I was reading Psalm 128 again as I periodically do (it's one of my favorite passages, but that's another RST for another time :-) when I decided to also read Psalm 127 (it's funny how often I'll run across something useful or thought-provoking when I read a chapter before and/or after; you should give it a try and see if the Lord doesn't use that little bit of initiative to speak to you in a shockingly clear voice).
At any rate, I'd forgotten that Psalm 127 starts out, "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain."
That's striking a pretty profound chord in me these days.
It then continues, "Don't you see that children are God's best gift, the fruit of the womb His generous legacy?"
Hmmm. Yeah. That one also found its mark. Funny how that works. I guess for me this RST is a call to action, the culmination of thoughts and conversations Evonne and I have been having recently. It's a reminder that even though much has been written about God and the Bible, and much of it is in fact worthwhile, nothing can take the place of actually opening The Book and communing with its Author directly. As we've said here before, He actually seeks us out, He relishes His time with us, His children. He knows our lives, He knows our needs; that's why the invitation woven throughout scripture -- His eternal message to us -- is to stop, even for a just moment, and be refreshed and filled, our characters refined and ennobled:
"The Lord called to the man--as He still does--and said, 'Where are you?' Come now, let us reason together. Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life. Whoever is thirsty, let them come; and whoever wishes, let them take the free gift of the water of life." (from Genesis 3, Isaiah 1, John 4, and Revelation 22).
You've been prayed for today...
J
Wow, a week already -- good grief! OK, on to Part 2.
So I was reading Psalm 128 again as I periodically do (it's one of my favorite passages, but that's another RST for another time :-) when I decided to also read Psalm 127 (it's funny how often I'll run across something useful or thought-provoking when I read a chapter before and/or after; you should give it a try and see if the Lord doesn't use that little bit of initiative to speak to you in a shockingly clear voice).
At any rate, I'd forgotten that Psalm 127 starts out, "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain."
That's striking a pretty profound chord in me these days.
It then continues, "Don't you see that children are God's best gift, the fruit of the womb His generous legacy?"
Hmmm. Yeah. That one also found its mark. Funny how that works. I guess for me this RST is a call to action, the culmination of thoughts and conversations Evonne and I have been having recently. It's a reminder that even though much has been written about God and the Bible, and much of it is in fact worthwhile, nothing can take the place of actually opening The Book and communing with its Author directly. As we've said here before, He actually seeks us out, He relishes His time with us, His children. He knows our lives, He knows our needs; that's why the invitation woven throughout scripture -- His eternal message to us -- is to stop, even for a just moment, and be refreshed and filled, our characters refined and ennobled:
"The Lord called to the man--as He still does--and said, 'Where are you?' Come now, let us reason together. Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life. Whoever is thirsty, let them come; and whoever wishes, let them take the free gift of the water of life." (from Genesis 3, Isaiah 1, John 4, and Revelation 22).
You've been prayed for today...
J
Sunday, September 6, 2009
"Pour out your heart...Lift up your hands" (Part 1)
Hey, Y'all,
Happy Labor Day weekend! It's been sweet, hope you too are taking a little breather, I know I needed one. Ran across this text in an excerpt from Max Lucado's new book -- Fearless -- that really touched me (don't remember ever having read it before; but then considering it's found in the book of Lamentations it's probably not that strange):
"Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to Him for the lives of your children."
Lamentations 2:19
Nice; really love the imagery, so vivid, so clear it's nearly heart-rending. Now here's the excerpt (for some reason this is all resonating with me a little more than it previously might have :-)
Jairus...begged Jesus to come to his home (Luke 8:41). The father wasn’t content with long distance assistance; he wanted Christ beneath his roof, walking through his rooms, standing at the bedside of his daughter. He wanted the presence of Christ to permeate his house. My wife displays this same longing. I will someday ask God, “Why were you so good to my daughters and me?” and he will answer by pointing to Denalyn. “She just kept talking about you and your kids.”
Denalyn takes regular prayer walks through our house, stepping into each bedroom and living area. She pauses to pray for her daughters and husband. She takes full advantage of the invitation of Lamentations 2:19: “Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children” (Lam. 2:19).
Yeah, I'm starting to understand the enormity of that need, the depth of that feeling. Now, before I lose those of you without children of your own, I'll say this: I realized a while ago that I was responsible for "my" children long before I had my first. What am I talking about?
First and most important, I realized that my walk with God was not something I would just be able to "flip on" when the time came; it's something that takes consistent, persistent effort on my part, not because God's that hard to find but because I'm that easy to distract. That's why I like to think of it as my "walk" with God; slow, rich, constant, life-long.
Secondly, I realized that I was (and am) Uncle Juan, and Tio Cacalos, and The Godfather, to more than a few little ones who watch everything I do and listen to every word I say. Am I showing them properly what a good man, a Godly man, looks like?
That's why I want -- no, why I need -- "Christ beneath my roof, walking through my rooms, standing at the bedside of my daughter. I want the presence of Christ to permeate my house," [starting with me].
More on this next post, but in the meantime...
You've been prayed for today.
J
Happy Labor Day weekend! It's been sweet, hope you too are taking a little breather, I know I needed one. Ran across this text in an excerpt from Max Lucado's new book -- Fearless -- that really touched me (don't remember ever having read it before; but then considering it's found in the book of Lamentations it's probably not that strange):
"Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to Him for the lives of your children."
Lamentations 2:19
Nice; really love the imagery, so vivid, so clear it's nearly heart-rending. Now here's the excerpt (for some reason this is all resonating with me a little more than it previously might have :-)
Jairus...begged Jesus to come to his home (Luke 8:41). The father wasn’t content with long distance assistance; he wanted Christ beneath his roof, walking through his rooms, standing at the bedside of his daughter. He wanted the presence of Christ to permeate his house. My wife displays this same longing. I will someday ask God, “Why were you so good to my daughters and me?” and he will answer by pointing to Denalyn. “She just kept talking about you and your kids.”
Denalyn takes regular prayer walks through our house, stepping into each bedroom and living area. She pauses to pray for her daughters and husband. She takes full advantage of the invitation of Lamentations 2:19: “Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children” (Lam. 2:19).
Yeah, I'm starting to understand the enormity of that need, the depth of that feeling. Now, before I lose those of you without children of your own, I'll say this: I realized a while ago that I was responsible for "my" children long before I had my first. What am I talking about?
First and most important, I realized that my walk with God was not something I would just be able to "flip on" when the time came; it's something that takes consistent, persistent effort on my part, not because God's that hard to find but because I'm that easy to distract. That's why I like to think of it as my "walk" with God; slow, rich, constant, life-long.
Secondly, I realized that I was (and am) Uncle Juan, and Tio Cacalos, and The Godfather, to more than a few little ones who watch everything I do and listen to every word I say. Am I showing them properly what a good man, a Godly man, looks like?
That's why I want -- no, why I need -- "Christ beneath my roof, walking through my rooms, standing at the bedside of my daughter. I want the presence of Christ to permeate my house," [starting with me].
More on this next post, but in the meantime...
You've been prayed for today.
J
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