a return and some thoughts on grieving well

It has been six months (almost exactly) since last I wrote something here. It was an intentional and needed rest from writing, but now the time seems right to begin again. Hopefully you’ll join me on this journey, reading my words and then sharing your own thoughts in response.

As a way of starting again I wanted share something I wrote the other day for my local church family. As a church we find ourselves gathering around a dear and precious family who has experienced the great loss of their 11 month old daughter who was battling cancer. It is a tragic loss that wreaks of the wrongness of sin and death in our world. As a response to these events I simply wrote a few thoughts regarding the pursuit of grieving well. As an American I have long since been convinced that our culture has no concept of how to practice this well. Below you’ll find my initial thoughts on grieving well. There is more to say certainly, but this is a start.

For those of you reading who are not American, I would love to hear your thoughts on grief within your own cultures.

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Times of great loss and sorrow seem to highlight the fact that as a culture, Americans are poorly equipped for grieving. It is not something we are taught how to approach and certainly not something we have learned to value. We however, are the Body of Christ, his chosen people, his royal priesthood and as such we should make intentional steps towards this practice of grieving well. We are called to grieve in ways distinct from those who don’t have the hope of Christ (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

I wanted to simply offer a few thoughts on grieving well with those who are in the midst of loss. How do we approach those who are grieving and what does it look like to live in that tension of being a people who both have great hope and also suffer deep loss? This isn’t a “how to” or some definitive final word on grief. It is simply a few thoughts to consider and some ways to be intentional and biblical as we respond. 

1)    Be present not wise

In the book of Job we find Job’s friends coming to his side at his time of great loss and suffering. So much of the book of Job is filled with their conversations that it can be easy to miss the significant reality of their presence. The friends of Job sat in silence with him for seven days before speaking a word.

And when they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him. And they raised their voices and wept, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads toward heaven. And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.       Job 2:12-13

They raised their voices in weeping, but not in an attempt to offer advice or counsel—not for a whole week. There is mighty power in simply being present with one who is grieving the loss of a loved one. Our willingness to sit patiently with them while they weep and remember and rant is an act of great love. So often when we see those in grief we are tempted to give our best counsel, our wisest words. The truth is that often we are motivated to do this mainly because it makes us feel better. The friends of Job loved him enough to wait for him to speak; they waited until he was ready.

When you see those suffering great loss give them a long hug, sit down beside them, be present. Don’t be tempted to put your wisdom on display.

2)    Be of the Truth

When the time does come to speak to those in grief fight the urge to say whatever comes to mind, to just speak flowery words that carry no depth. Speak biblical truth, speak words of Scripture. Psalm 119:25 reads, “My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word!” There is an understanding here that God’s words carry life. They draw our souls from the dirt and revive us.

 Before you go to the side of those in grief, pray for biblical wisdom from God. Spend a few moments in your Bible considering what you might share and then when you see them, share those words. Don’t be drawn into the desire to use Scripture as a springboard into your own commentary on what it means and how it applies. Just speak truth, and let the power of God’s own words sink deep into the soul of the hearer. Feel free to share your own sorrow and grief, your own memories of their lost loved ones, but also be sure you are offering them a balm for their soul. The words of Scripture can soothe better than any words you or I could come up with on our own.

3)    Be a long sufferer 

Some of the older Bible translations use the word longsuffering instead of the word patience that most modern translations opt for (like Galatians 5:22 which describes the fruit of the Spirit). I think this word longsuffering provides and incredibly significant image when it comes to loving well those who are in grief. The tragic reality is that in our culture most people have a very limited tolerance for engaging with those who are grieving great loss. It’s not that we don’t love those who are grieving, but the reality is that it is incredibly painful and difficult to continue weeks and months later to sit patiently and cry together. It’s painful to consistently remember with them those lost loved ones. To listen and talk with them as they go through deeper pain than we may be prepared to identify with. To grieve well with our brothers and sisters takes great patience. It is an act of longsuffering.

We need to be in prayer that God, by his Spirit, would develop in us a depth of patience that could be described as longsuffering. That we would be made ready for the long journey of grieving that lies ahead. That our hearts would grow in capacity, that we would become a people of mercy and compassion that we could never be on our own. 

4)    Be hopeful

We are a people of hope. We know that Jesus is coming again, that those who are found in him will experience life without end; that death will be dealt the final blow removing any influence it has on our lives. We know that we are looking to a better home, that God has prepared us for this very thing. We should cling to that and proclaim that to each other always. 

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.              2 Corinthians 5:1-7

people of hope

Last week I quoted Paul Tripp speaking about the gap in our gospel. He was talking about this missing piece in our faith and understanding, this middle part of the hope we are called to live in, but often lose sight of. I wanted to return to this again because his insight is incredibly important for us as we consider what it looks like to live in the power of Jesus in the here and now. If you want to read the whole quote again it can be found here.

 

Essentially what Tripp was identifying is that we as Christians have a pretty good idea of salvation past (what Jesus did for us on the cross) and of salvation future (our hope in eternity), but we often fail to comprehend how to live in the power of the gospel in our day to day activities. We struggle and fight and fall into sin again and again and again.

 

How do we rise above it? How do we experience victory? How do we struggle against sin, knowing that we will not be perfect until we are made so by Christ and yet still keep in step with the Spirit?

 

Most of the time, most of us feel at a real loss for how this comes about. How do we live in the power of the gospel today, and tomorrow, and everyday we live in these fleshly bodies with all our sin? Colossians 2 offers us great perspective and great hope.

 

Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.      Colossians 2:6-10

 

Paul reminds us in this letter of the most important thing: We have been filled in Christ. He doesn’t say we have been filled with Christ. This is certainly true and biblical, but Paul is saying something more. It isn’t just that Christ fills up our sinful bodies with all our limitations, but that we are filled up in him. All his limitlessness and power, all his divinity that expands to the far reaches of the universe and beyond, all that makes him God in full, we are filled up in all that is Christ! We are filled up in the one who is ruler and authority over all creation.

 

“For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.”

 

Jesus is not shrunk down to the size of our mortal flesh in our momentary circumstances, but that by the mysterious power of the gospel of Jesus dying on the cross and resurrecting from the dead, we are filled up in him. We are given fullness in him, power in him, hope in him.

 

That’s why Paul can start this section of his letter with the words, “just as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him…” He is calling us, not just to hold on to salvation past until salvation future is made complete, but to live in the now walking in Christ. He is calling us to that middle part of the gospel that we often lose sight of and fail to tap into. He is reminding us that the gospel is not just for past and future, but also for here and for now.

 

And this leads us to the great treasure of our faith: hope.

 

We will continue to struggle against our sin nature for all our days. We will continue to battle and sometimes fail (often times fail!). We will taste the bitterness of death, our selfishness and of our own depravity. But we have hope. The greatest and highest hope! We have been filled up in Christ. We have the power of the resurrection—the only victor over death—in the midst of our everyday living that is continually stained by our own brokenness. We have the power of Christ, not just to be freed from our past and guaranteed our future, but power to walk in Christ each day.

 

And it’s important to remember that we don’t hope as the world hopes. This isn’t the hope of “Oh, I wish it would happen.” and “Maybe it’ll happen.” It’s not the hope of “Wouldn’t it be nice if once in a while it did happen”. This isn’t wishes me make or dreams we imagine could possibly come about. No, our hope is biblical hope. It is confident expectation of a guaranteed result that God has promised us in Christ. God will enable us to walk in Christ in the here and now.

 

This doesn’t mean we won’t struggle, we will. This doesn’t mean we won’t falter, we will. This doesn’t mean we don’t sin, we still will. But we don’t have to be ruled by it, oppressed by it, consumed by it. We can find victory in our days and joy in the midst of our pains. We can experience real change in our struggles. We can walk in Christ.

 

We don’t need to live in some limbo between what has been done for us and what awaits us without power for what we face today. We can live in the fullness we have in Christ. But the hope of the gospel must mark our steps. The power of the resurrected Christ must be on our lips and in our hearts and filling our minds. We must learn to live in the hope—the biblical hope—of confidently expecting that what has been guaranteed to us in Christ will result in changed living for today.

 

We are the people of hope. God’s people filled up in him who is the fullness of deity, the Ruler and authority over all creation—Jesus Christ, our Lord!

 

the bride

This is the summer of weddings for my family. We’ve attended two in recent weeks and have so many more in the months ahead that it’s hard to keep them all straight. It seems we are blessed to be in relationship with a great number of people who are taking that step into married life right about now!

 

All these weddings have been bringing to my mind the image of Christ and his church—this idea that we are the bride of Christ. I keep finding it making its way into my conversations. I keep relating my opinions to other believers back to this hope and future. I find myself considering the implications of our relationship with Christ being compared to that of a marriage. I believe it should be noted as an evidence of God’s grace anytime we find the circumstances of life bringing certain passages from Scripture—or certain images it portrays—repeatedly to the forefront of our minds. Weddings should always do this for us. Just as husband and wife are made one flesh so the Bible speaks of Christ and his church being made one. Each time we gather and watch the bride being united with her husband I am reminded: this is our hope. This is our goal. It’s great perspective and it’s a beautiful reminder of our future destiny.

 

When Paul writes the Corinthian church he has concern that the church not lose sight of this perspective. He wants them to live with this future in view. His specific concern for them comes from the danger of being led astray to teachings that are false, but I think the general warning to remember that we are being made ready, that we are promised to Christ, is critical for us all.

 

 

I hope you will put up with me in a little foolishness. Yes, please put up with me!  I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy. I promised you to one husband, to Christ, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to him.  But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ.  2 Corinthians 11:1-3

  

Paul is calling on the church to remember what it’s all about. What are we doing here? What are we hoping for?

 

We are promised to Christ. The goal of this life is preparation. We are constantly being prepared for the day when we will be presented to him. All the struggles and disappointments of life, all the blessings and victories; everything in life is making us ready for that day. It’s all preparation for being made one with Christ in full completion.

 

This is who we are, this is what we hope for, this is why we live; just as a bride is made ready for the day of uniting with her husband so we are being made ready. This can admittedly be an awkward concept for a guy to wrap his mind around. We are the bride?! There is something “macho” within us that wants to balk at this imagery. But if we consider the husband and wife, the uniting and being made one, it is beautiful and should give us great hope and joy. To be made one with Christ—there is no greater destiny than this!

 

 

Let us rejoice and be glad
   and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
   and his bride has made herself ready.
Fine linen, bright and clean,
   was given her to wear.”             Revelation 19:7-8

 

What a beautiful wedding day our future holds; a wedding like none other! This should give us hope for tomorrow and strength for today. This picture gives me a great deal of new found love for weddings. They are always reminding me of the future, of our promise, of our hope. There is a great wedding in our future, and it should bring definition to how we live in the present.

 

wandering worship

Last weekend I was on a retreat with the men from my church. We heard from several different people talking about different aspects of being faithful men in our homes, our workplace, our city and our church. We were consistently turned to the Bible as our guide for understanding what God is calling us to as men.  The whole experience was a deep and meaningful one and I have found myself, in the days that have followed from there, continually returning to one specific passage we looked at:

 

Jeremiah 2

 

Have you read this passage recently? You should take the time. Read the whole chapter; feel the weight of God’s frustration with his people—with us. The fact that God sees us for who we are so clearly (as Jeremiah 2 reveals) and yet still chose to send his Son Jesus to die in our place is incredibly remarkable. We simply don’t deserve this salvation. Jeremiah 2 captures the wandering hearts of God’s sinful people.

 

God remembers our devotion; our passion when we were young:

 

Go and proclaim in the hearing of Jerusalem:
“This is what the Lord says:
‘I remember the devotion of your youth,
how as a bride you loved me
and followed me through the wilderness,
through a land not sown.’ ”

Jeremiah 2:2

 

Remember the days of first believing? Remember that energy and passion? The devotion and excitement we had for God? Remember the love? The problem is we tend not stay by him. Our hearts wander. We stray from him and our energy and commitment fades. We forget and we find ourselves distracted by new and shiny things that promise much and deliver little.

 

This is what the Lord says:
“What fault did your ancestors find in me,
that they strayed so far from me?
They followed worthless idols
and became worthless themselves.”

Jeremiah 2:5

 

God goes on in the verses that follow to make the point that we forget about God. We fail to ask where he might be, what he might be doing in our midst. We forget to look for him. Instead, we exchange him for things that are worthless. We are worshippers; it’s in our DNA, it’s a part of our makeup. There is no getting around that. When we push back on the notion of God and convince ourselves that worshiping him cramps our style, we’re only fooling ourselves. We will worship something. So God asks what fault was found with him that worthless idols were put in his place.

 

What about us? What fault do we find with God? Does he not come quick enough? Does he not answer our prayers in the way want him to? Does he fail to be so small that we might comprehend everything about why he does as he does and why he doesn’t do as we wish? When we’ve made our lives all about us we will find that God fails to live to the standards we’ve set up.

 

But we’re not claiming our independence. We’re not “breaking free” from him to live for ourselves. We will worship. We will have a master. If not God, then something—something dead. We will always worship, but our hearts have a tendency to wander, so our worship wanders too.

 

And did you notice that last sentence of verse 5?

 

“They followed worthless idols and became worthless themselves.”

 

It’s not just about god being mad that we gave our affection to something else. That we trade relationship with the Almighty creator for the creation. It’s the reality that our very value is tied up in God and our completion and fullness are found only in relationship with him. He is our worth. When our worship wanders our relationship with him is broken and we become worthless.

 

Has a nation ever changed its gods?
(Yet they are not gods at all.)
But my people have exchanged their glorious God
for worthless idols.

Jeremiah 2:11

 

What things am I tempted to worship in God’s place? What else do I put my hope in? What things do I tell myself could make my life different? Better?

 

We are worshipers, but we are sinful wanders as well. So we must always be on guard for what we are placing our trust in and who we are looking to for identity. Jeremiah 2 has much to say to us about our hearts, our worship, and our wandering. For today, lets us simply consider: have we found fault with God? Have we strayed from him?

 

tears of the King

This is holy week. These are the days that lead up to the death and resurrection of Jesus. There is no more significant time than this. Everything we believe, everything we try to devote our lives to finds purpose and meaning in the events that culminate at the end of this week.

 

Paul the apostle says that if Jesus is not resurrected from the dead then we Christians should be pitied above all others (1 Cor. 15:19). We have set our hope here. We have set our identity in the resurrected One. This week we stop the regular, monotonous rhythms in favor of a few moments; brief times to reflect and remember. This week holds the key to all the hope: Jesus making his way to the cross; Jesus knowing where he is going; Jesus in reverent submission, sacrificing his holy, prefect self for ragged sinners who neither understand nor care. God in perfect love and ultimate sacrifice, bringing life to the lifeless.

 

In this we hope.

 

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During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him and was designated by God to be high priest in the order of Melchizedek.   Hebrews 5:7-10

 

I have tried to find words for the tears of Jesus. But how do you write about the grief of the Almighty?

I wrote in abstract, and then I wrote in the matter of fact. I wrote a poem, and then I wrote a story. I wrote and deleted, wrote and deleted.

 

The simple fact is, Jesus coming to earth—God in flesh, living among us, living to die—these realties mean Jesus weeps.

 

“…fervent cries and tears…”

 

There are no words for the Creator crying over his creation. Crying not just because it’s gone all wrong. Crying not just because it isn’t as it should be—us living in wicked rebellion and lost-ness. But crying because he loves greatly and fervently and even to the point of death. Crying for the Self-inflicted pain to bring Self-glory and our worship.

 

Putting that to words? They just all end up sounding childish or obscene in the face of such grace and love.

The Son of the Most High learning obedience in suffering. The Almighty Messiah in reverent submission. The grief of perfect love does wild and reckless things—reckless by the standards of earthly wisdom. There are not words because there is not the ability to wrap our minds fully around a love so pure and perfect and full of glory. That God would love us so much that he would not simply find a way for us to reach him, but would give himself to save us. Not a love that says, “I can’t watch you self-destruct so I’ll wipe the slate clean and start again.” But a love that says, “You have no hope in yourself. I will pay the price for you. I will die myself, so that you can live in me.”

 

As we focus on Jesus making his way to the cross this week it is good and right for us to remember that as he walked this earth he did so offering up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears.

 

How could we be loved this much? That the King of glory, strong and mighty, would weep for the lost? And not just weep, but the Creator enters creation and dies for the sin of those who do not even love him!

 

The source of eternal salvation, the Son of reverent submission, who learned obedience, suffered death—this is our King of glory. Our King of tears.

 

you are my son

At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”          Mark 1:9-11

 

Father, Son and Spirit.

 

It’s not often in the Bible that all three are mentioned together. It’s not often that the Trinity shows up in full representation.

 

On top of that, the Father is speaking audibly. Again, we don’t get this often in the Bible. Especially when God speaks and a whole crowd of people can hear—at least we assume they can. Nothing in Mark’s gospel suggests that only Jesus, or only Jesus and John the Baptist could hear the Father. He speaks and the crowds hear.

 

And the message on such a special encounter?

 

You are my Son.

I love you.

I am well pleased with you.

 

God could have said anything. This could have been the moment to warn people about sin. This could have been a chance to declare that everyone worship him. Literally, it could have been a time for God to say anything; to convince people that Jesus should be followed; to warn everyone about how they would all get so fickle and choose to call for the crucifixion of Jesus. Anything!

 

But the Father makes a declaration of love for his Son. The Father wants everyone to know he is pleased with his Son.

 

You are my Son.

I love you.

I am well pleased with you.

 

This is the God we serve. This is the God we love. He loves his Son. That’s what he wants us to know when Jesus is baptized. That’s what God wants us to know after years and years of silence. Since the prophet’s words had last been given it had been hundreds of years; then John the Baptist comes. Then comes Jesus.

 

And here, in the midst of the Jordan. The Son is dipped down into the water, the Spirit descends from the heavens and the voice of the Father proclaims,

 

You are my Son.

I love you.

I am well pleased with you.

 

What a day. What a moment. What a beginning. And the world would never be the same.

 

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.      1 John 4:9-10

the gospel and suffering

“I want to be clear…God does not identify with our pain because he lost his Son…we are able to identify with his pain through the loss of ours.”

 

Those are the words of my friend, spoken at the funeral of his toddler son. They are words that knock me down and rock my soul. Here is a man committed to focusing on the Father and the sacrifice of his Son, regardless of what his own painful circumstances might be.

 

Actually, that’s not true. It is more accurately said that here is a man who is committed to focusing on the Father and the sacrifice of his Son even more so because of his own painful circumstances. This father friend of mine and his treasured wife have been calling on those around them to proclaim the truth to them. They are begging to hear, to be reminded, to be given focus.  They want to identify with the pain of a perfect Father who willingly gave up his Son. They are looking for deeper connection with Christ.

 

For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.            2 Corinthians 1:5

 

This is what we do when we suffer. This is what we do when we are blasted by extreme loss: we seek comfort in Christ. We allow our own suffering to draw us to him and identify with him. The gospel is even more beautiful when it is seen through the lens of suffering. Suffering gives shape and texture to the abstract.

 

God gave himself for our sin. This is a truth we can easily keep distant and somewhat out of focus in our daily lives. He willingly suffered loss and hurt and pain so that we might be with him. Our hearts ache in loss because we are created in his image. We ache when death comes because the Father aches when death comes.

 

Our tendency—our natural reaction—so often in these hurtful times is to blame God or be angry with him. But death and pain and loss are unnatural because they aren’t they way God intended this to be. Sin is where our anger should be directed; the sin of all of us. Sin has brought about death and none of us are exempt; all contribute, all are sinners.

 

And this is why we should hope in heartache and suffering. This is why we should, even in pain, press hard into the hope of resurrection. We should lean in to the offer of Christ to come and abide in him.

 

We’d prefer to make sense of the senseless; to find some thought, some action, some belief that would make us feel “okay” with the death and brokenness of this world. Tragedy strikes and the world clamors for answers. Everyone seems to try their hand at a catchy phrase or sentence that sums up the reasons why we need to accept it and move on. We often just want the pain to go away or the sorrow to be eased.

 

But the tension is right and real. Death is wrong, regardless of age or circumstance. It’s wrong and unnatural. And tragic loss like my friends have recently experienced is even more wrong. The Bible does not offer a solution that makes the sorrow go away. It does one better. The Bible promises comfort from God our Father, hope through Christ our Savior, and power from the Holy Spirit to make it through.

 

There is comfort and hope and power to make it through. There is an invitation to abide in the depths of God’s love and grace and have life in the midst of death and pain. There is Christ and we are called towards him.

 

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.  Philippians 3:10-11

 

living stones

You are coming to Christ, who is the living cornerstone of God’s temple. He was rejected by people, but he was chosen by God for great honor. And you are living stones that God is building into his spiritual temple. What’s more, you are his holy priests. Through the mediation of Jesus Christ, you offer spiritual sacrifices that please God.

 As the Scriptures say,
“I am placing a cornerstone in Jerusalem,
chosen for great honor,
and anyone who trusts in him
will never be disgraced.”

 Yes, you who trust him recognize the honor God has given him. But for those who reject him,
“The stone that the builders rejected
has now become the cornerstone.”

And,
“He is the stone that makes people stumble,
the rock that makes them fall.”
They stumble because they do not obey God’s word, and so they meet the fate that was planned for them.

1 Peter 2:4-8

 

Jesus. The cornerstone. The one on whom we are built and by whom we are held up. The stone rejected by the “builders.”

 

What builders? Who are these builders? Builders of religion? Builders of self-promotion? Those that build in the spirit of Babel so as to make themselves famous?

 

Does it matter who they are? They are building. They are seeking to construct their own place. This is not theirs to do. They are not invited to build.

 

How often do I do this? How often am I taking charge of the building? Constructing my own place and purpose?

 

 

God is the one building us into his spiritual temple. He is the one placing us as stones, setting us on Jesus, constructing the frame work of our lives and ensuring that we rest on the only sure foundation.

 

Builders reject Jesus—the only true cornerstone—because they only pretend at building. They, who are we, only play at what we do not understand or have the skill to accomplish. We are not builders. We are being built. Built together, built into Christ.

 

But it takes great trust in the one true Builder to simply rest in the hands of him who sets us in place, pieces us together, and accomplishes his plan. We are only stones—rocks really—if left alone. We have no value or purpose out on our own. And who ever heard of a simple rock building anything of worth any way?!

 

We are not meant to build, but be built. Thankfully we are being built on the cornerstone that God has chosen for great honor.

 

love the Father well

So think clearly and exercise self-control. Look forward to the gracious salvation that will come to you when Jesus Christ is revealed to the world. So you must live as God’s obedient children. Don’t slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn’t know any better then. But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, “You must be holy because I am holy.”     1 Peter 1:13-16

 

It’s an uncomfortable balance, this salvation by grace and the call to be holy. We are saved because of nothing we do. We don’t earn it, we aren’t worth it, we don’t deserve it. There is nothing to work out…and yet there is everything to work out. We are called to be holy, to think clearly, to be and do all sorts of things. It’s awkward. It tempts us to focus on self and think in terms of what we do instead of who is working in us.

 

Peter helps us along the way.

 

Right in the midst of his call to be holy Peter reminds us to look forward to the salvation that Jesus Christ is bringing. The reminder, for me, is the very clear distinction regarding why we are called to be holy. The actions we are called to display are not about our salvation, they are about our love. Behaving as children of the light is not about the position of our soul—we are positionally set right with our Father when we accept Jesus as the Son of God and our Savior. Behaving as children of the light is about loving our Father well.

 

We are called to live as obedient children. Obedience is how we show love for our Father.

 

All who love me will do what I say…     John 14:23

 

We are called to stop living simply to satisfy our own desires.

 

You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.    1 Corinthians 6:19-20

 

Our call to be holy is not about earning and it’s not about proving worth. It’s about loving the one who loves us. It’s about being in relationship with the holy God of heaven. He has given us his Son and asked that we give him our lives. If we are looking forward the salvation that will come to us when Jesus Christ is revealed, this call to give him all will begin to be recognized for the small sacrifice it truly is.

 

Come now children, let us live in obedience. Let us love the Father well.

 

for heaven’s sake

Lord, we confess our wickedness
and that of our ancestors, too.
We all have sinned against you.

For the sake of your reputation, Lord, do not abandon us.
Do not disgrace your own glorious throne.
Please remember us,
and do not break your covenant with us.

 

                                                            Jeremiah 14:20-21

 

I’ll admit, I’m pretty good at coming up with reasons why I think God should answer my prayers. When I go to him, I not only have requests, but I usually have reasons why I think these particular requests are good ones. Reasons why I think it makes sense that God should affect things in the ways I’m asking him to. I think we all do this—and probably far more often than we realize.

 

I’m not writing this to make a case for why we shouldn’t do this or why it’s somehow bad. Actually, I think it makes a lot of sense. The Bible tells the story of God sending Jesus so that we might have relationship with him through the sacrifice of his son. Relationship. In any healthy relationship communication isn’t just a series of you submitting a list of what you would like from me and me just deciding yes or no based on that. It’s a relationship in which conversation is dynamic and back and forth. Obviously we must understand that we aren’t in the business of convincing God something is a good idea—he knows everything and understands our own logic better than we do. But I do believe he cares about our honest thought process and wants to interact with us. So I don’t think we should stop sharing with God the whys of our requests. We’ll benefit from it even when he doesn’t do what we are asking and hoping for.

 

Today, I’m thinking more about our reasoning itself. What we think is a good reason for asking something of God. I was struck by this as I discovered just how often in the Bible we find people calling on God and requesting things of him using words like, “for your name’s sake” or “for the sake of your reputation.”

 

I’m realizing that my reasoning is usually not this selfless. I don’t usually think of the ramifications of my request on God’s name or reputation. I just don’t. When I’m asking God for something I am definitely thinking of how it affects me or how it affects others. Rarely do I think in terms of how it affects God.

 

I have prayed from time to time genuinely believing that this answer to my request might bring others to praise God more. But I just feel that this goes deeper. This is a thinking further through the implications of my request.

 

Am I convinced that my request would reveal God in a better light to those who bear witness to what he would do?

 

Am I thinking of the way others will see God more than I am thinking of how convenient this answered prayer would be for me or those I love?

 

I may still be wrong. God may still say no. Or wait. I may—and usually don’t—understand the full implications of what this answered request would do versus what it does for the image of God when it goes unanswered. But just being more intentional about thinking this way as I pray is a good challenge for me. To make a request about more than just myself and my interest and my convenience. This has to be a good thing for my relationship with God—and for my prayer life.

 

 “O Lord, hear. O Lord, forgive. O Lord, listen and act! For your own sake, do not delay, O my God, for your people and your city bear your name.”       

                                 Daniel 9:19