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“But do not think I will accuse you before the Father. Your accuser is Moses, on whom your hopes are set. If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me. But since you do not believe what he wrote, how are you going to believe what I say?”

John 5:45-47

 

In our church we’re currently working our way through the gospel of John. It will likely take us the entire year to do so and the experience so far has been amazing. We’re digging deep into each section, looking at what Jesus is talking about on Sunday mornings and then expanding on it, going even deeper into it in our community groups that meet throughout the week.

 

Each week the pastors meet and discuss what’s being said in the passage we will be looking at the following Sunday. We just open up the text, read and share. This past Wednesday as we explored the 7^th chapter of John I noticed something. It’s not new really, but it struck me in a particularly strong way this week. In the first six chapters of John, Jesus fights against not just an unwillingness by the people to believe that he is who he claims to be, but also this corrupted willingness of humanity to settle for far less from God than he is trying to give us.

 

A quick survey of the first six chapters of John bears this out. They just want to know where Jesus is staying not who John the Baptist says he really is. They were only looking for a little more wine for the party. The people would settle for just not having their Temple marketplace disrupted when what Jesus was offering them was a once for all sacrifice that would make repeated trips to the bloody altar unnecessary. The Pharisee Nicodemus only wants Jesus to be a good teacher sent from God and the woman at the well is just looking for clarity about worship locations. The disciples would like to just leave the Samaritans alone and it seems the main thing the people are wanting is to see more miracles. Jesus faces a man who wants to be recognized as having had a rough life more than he actually wants to be healed and everyone would be happy with a little more bread given miraculously rather than feeding on the Bread of Life, Jesus himself.

 

Jesus is constantly knocking down the doors and blowing out the walls of our religious smallness and the low expectations we’ve set up for him. He’s continually pulling back the veil of the temporary and the momentary and revealing a world of abundant eternity, inviting us to join him there. But just like the crowds and the religious zealots and the disciples we fail to see the promise of true life because we’re caught staring at the stale remnants of our own imaginings. Wanting what we think will be a little better than what we have instead of opening ourselves up to the extravagant bounty of life-eternal and joy unspeakable that Jesus is calling us to.

 

I’m beginning to think the reality is simply that we don’t really believe what he has to say—not about life in the present any way. We can hope for the future and look to the resurrection that is coming. We can dream of heaven and no more tears and no more pain. But can we believe that in the here and now, in the today, in the midst of our current suffering that there is true joy to be had? Can we believe that life without worry and life without fear is actually possible? Can we find a place in our hopeful faith for his power being made perfect in our weakness? Can we trust him to come through in the ways he says he will? I’m not sure we want to. I’m not sure we are willing to.

 

Let’s be honest, the religious processions and practices we’ve set up for ourselves are not that bad. We get a feel good moment here and there, a hope for the future reminder from time to time. We get to look down on those not as far along as us and idolize the ones who are leading the way ahead of us. And for the most part we feel…okay. Granted, it’s not life abundant in the here and now. It’s not joy-saturated living. But we’ve learned to cope, we’ve figured out how to settle.

 

This isn’t the life Jesus calls us to. Read the gospels. The words Jesus uses are compelling and dynamic. The life he lives and calls us to live is radical. Our lives? They are typically safe and mundane. They are all too often a settling for less than what God has to offer.

 

What would happen if we not only believed what Jesus has to say about who he is and how we are saved, but also what he says about how the saved should live life?

 

There is so much more. But will we believe him?

 

why should I?

The Lord is my light and my salvation—
so why should I be afraid?
The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger,
so why should I tremble?                        Psalm 27:1-2

  

Why should we be afraid? Of course, we shouldn’t. We know that…in our heads. We have nothing to fear if our hope is in Christ.

 

And yet, the reality is that for most of us what’s in our head, what we know to be true, doesn’t always translate into how we live. We have this professed faith we say we believe and then we have our functional faith which is how we actually live. It isn’t intentional. It’s not calculated or decided. It’s just the reality of our disconnect—even as followers of Christ—with the God we love.

 

The Lord is the light of our salvation, he is our fortress and protection, so of course we shouldn’t fear or worry or tremble. But still, we find ourselves worrying about how we’ll get all the bills paid. Still we uncover fears and frets as we lay awake wondering how we’ll talk to this person or how we’ll respond to that email. We pray, but fearfully so, when we think about our kids and how they’ll grow and what they’ll encounter, and who they’ll befriend. We can become paralyzed with concern over what our boss thinks of our performance or how our friends view us after that outburst of anger.

 

We worry about people, we fear about money, we are concerned about all the issues we can’t control and the things we don’t know about. We even fight this fear of death! The people who have a God who’s defeated death, who has taken away the sting of death. And yet still we fear.

 

Is it a lack of trusting God? Maybe. For some of us that definitely it and in certain situations that’s probably it for all of us. Is it a lack of belief that our God is personally invested in us? Again, this is probably somewhat true too. Maybe it’s that we enjoy the attention and perceived difficulty of our lives that comes from having something fear. A friend of mine recently referred to this as the “tragic hero” mentality. So much going on, so much hardship, so much to fret over. People admire our ability to make it through and we like this perception of ourselves. It could be as simple as a control issue. We like to feel in control, so when we don’t feel in control all our trust in God’s protection and God’s sovereign hand on our lives is out the window.

 

It could be some or all of these. It could be something else. But I for one am determined to take this tendency head on. I’m not calling for us to be irresponsible or throw caution the wind and live wildly out of control, but I think we need to recognize the ways in which what we say we believe about God doesn’t line up with how we live. We need to begin unpacking the areas of life where our professed faith and our functional faith don’t meet. And what better place to start than with fear and worry?

 

The Lord is my light and my salvation. The Lord is my protection.

Lord, let me live in this truth today.

 

advent day 24 – waiting

Can you imagine it? Waiting for years—never leaving this place of worship. Always looking. Always waiting.

 

Would today be the day?

Would he come this afternoon?

How will I know when it is him?

Will he come?

Today?

 

 

Simeon and Anna—they show great faithfulness. They inspire us with patience that has no regard for impressions or reputation or conventional wisdom. They wait because they believe. They know that God will come—that he has promised to come. And they will not be found elsewhere. They will not miss him.

 

They seek him and set all else aside so they might find him.

 

As we come closer to the day of celebration; as we anticipate the birthday of our Savior we know that world picks up its pace. Lists of to-do’s are getting longer, schedules are getting fuller, demands are growing louder. Will we make room to wait? Will we be caught running and doing and fretting? Or will we be found waiting? Looking? Ready for the day of celebration.

 

This week we celebrate the coming of God With Us. Don’t miss it for all the busyness that offers to sweep you away. Be still and know that God is God—and that God is here.

  

Day Twenty-Four Reading: Luke 2:22-38

 

As you read about Simeon and Anna consider their examples. What kind of prominence do you give in your own life to opportunities to proclaim Christ?

 

What would it look like for you to “wait” for Christ to be revealed so that you may proclaim him?

 

Prayer—Father may we be attentive and watchful for you each day, that we might draw others attention to you.

 

adevnt day 11 – questions

We ask the questions. No—it’s more accurate to say we often demand the questions.

 

Why?! When?! Where?! How?!

 

We want to know—we think we need to know. Why does God do what he does? How can these things happen? When will God make this change? We want to know and it can easily consume us.

 

When did knowing it all become so much a part of how we live in faith? Is this really living in faith at all?

 

Waiting for the Messiah, looking to celebrate his coming on such an unsuspecting day and to such an unsuspecting people—it’s all become so usual and pedestrian to us. After all, it happened a long, long time ago. And to a people that can hardly seem real in our day to day bustle of the now. But when he came there was no one who guessed it would be then and in that way. It was completely off the radar of logic and the typical. It was undreamed of. A baby? To a poor couple of nobody’s? Who could have guessed?

 

And yet…people believed. Not all, for sure. Not even many. But some—the faithful lovers of God who loved him desperately enough to trust him with the outlandish.

 

Luke’s gospel records the obvious lack of understanding that came even with John’s coming. John—the one who was to prepare the way. Even his coming was not well understood, but it was believed by many to be of God; to be something significant.

 

I want to believe like that. As I wait for the coming day of celebration, I want to believe without demanding understanding of it all. I want to accept even as I ask, “What will this turn out to be?”

 

When did understanding become our prerequisite for faithful following? Can we peel it off the hard exterior of our hearts? More rightly, will we ask God to tear it away? Perhaps this time of waiting is our perfect opportunity. As we wait we can learn again what it is to trust; to live by faith; to accept that the God who sent his only Son is not limited by our ability to make sense of it all.

 

 

Day Eleven Reading: Luke 1:57-66

 

As the people heard the truths about Zechariah and his son John they “laid them up in their hearts.” How can this concept affect the way we read and study the Bible today?

 

Zechariah, and all the people who heard of what happened did not necessarily understand (v.66), but they did believe. Is there room in your life for belief where there is not complete understanding?

 

Prayer—Lord, as we wait for the celebration of your coming we pray for faith to believe in you, even when we don’t always understand the how or the why of your actions.

 

advent day 10 – believing and being

Could I be so full of faith? Could I believe so completely and with such little understanding about the hows and whys of it all? Don’t I typically demand more detail? Don’t I usually wait to see how it starts to play out before I embrace full trust in the amazing working of God?

 

Mary puts her faith—her trust in God—to action and gets moving. She goes to see and celebrate with Elizabeth. Elizabeth puts her trust to words and proclaims (before even knowing if Mary believes it) that Mary is carrying the Lord. These women waited and looked forward to the coming of Jesus, and they believed. Wholehearted, unquestioning belief. They wait with hearts already convinced.

 

This is how we should wait. This is where our hearts should be. This is how we should live. Convinced, trusting, assured of God’s good word. Knowing that he will do what he promises to do.

 

For he made this promise to our ancestors, to Abraham and his children forever.

 

Day Ten Reading: Luke 1:39-56

 

Mary believed what was spoken to her from God and so goes to share this time of anticipation with Elizabeth. In what ways do you find your own belief in God’s word becoming action in your life?

 

Consider the words of Mary’s celebration. In what ways do those words speak to you today?

 

Prayer—Father, grant us the courage to believe you fully and act on that belief.

 

advent day 8 – believing the new

Week Two – Believing

           

Romans 10:11 states that “everyone who believes in him [Jesus] will not be put to shame.” The good news of the gospel reveals that we are not called to earn right standing with God, but that it is given to those who believe. Jesus is revealed as the Messiah sent to bring salvation to the world and we find some amazing responses of belief by those involved with his coming. As we read this week we pray that God will strength our own belief as we look forward to celebrating his birth and look forward to when he comes again.

____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot—yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root.

 

Out of the stump—out from the dead and the cut off. That’s where Jesus comes from. Who would think to send a Savior this way? The people are dead—completely cut off in their sin. Not some of them—all of them. All of us. And yet the Father sends him. Sends him to be one of us. Sends him to save us. Jesus comes and his place is indeed a glorious place.

 

The Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. This is the Spirit of Jesus which comes to us—the old, dead root. Jesus, bringing new life to the old.

 

As we wait this week let us seek believing hearts that wait well.

 

 

Day Eight Reading: Isaiah 11:1-10

 

The people of Israel waited for the Messiah to come, and now we wait for him to come again. How does anticipating and then celebrating his first coming strengthen our belief in his return?

 

What words from this passage will you cling to today for assurance and hope?

 

Prayer—Jesus, you have given us great hope. Grant us hearts to believe in all you promise.

 

amaze the Savior

When Jesus heard this, he was amazed. Turning to the crowd that was following him, he said, “I tell you, I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!” And when the officer’s friends returned to his house, they found the slave completely healed.       Luke 7:9-10

 

Faith like what?! Jesus amazed?! What is going on here? I find it amazing that Jesus is amazed at anything. All through his ministry, with all the trick questions, the angry outbursts, and the extreme responses of faith to his presence we never see Jesus quite like we see him here. I won’t go so far as to say that he is surprised at the Roman officer since the text itself doesn’t say that. But he is amazed. Jesus seems impressed and pleased.

 

This is rare and I wonder, “How can I do that? How can I impress and amaze the Savior in this way?”

 

On the surface it seems rather simple. The officer makes some speech about Jesus not even needing to come to his house, but knowing that if he just says the words healing will happen. So this means I just need to speak with big faith, right?

 

In some senses this is right. The level of trust the officer is displaying is amazing. He knows and believes that Jesus isn’t bound by location or proximity. He is so trusting that Jesus can do the work needed that he proclaims some level of understanding in Jesus’ command over the world. The man has big faith, and it shows in the words he uses.

 

But I wonder if there isn’t more.

 

I think what I see here is humility. The officer, with all his importance of position, power and authority isn’t self impressed. Others are impressed with him—“if anyone deserves your help, he does” (Luke 7:4)—but he isn’t. He proclaims his unworthiness and apparently (since Jesus knows what’s in the heart) it’s genuine.

 

Maybe this is it—genuine humility. It’s harder to come by than we’d like to admit; especially when we need something or want something from God. In those times we tend to revert to explaining our desires in light of how fair they are or how right they are or how deserving we are. The officer doesn’t do that.

 

He asks, he proclaims his trust that Jesus can do it, and he acknowledges that he isn’t worthy. It’s humble trust. No gimmicks, no sell job. No attempts at passive-aggressive commentary on the unfairness of life; and no victim mentality. It’s just a guy in desperate need of the Savior, declaring that he trusts. And whatever comes of it, he deserves nothing.

 

This sounds simple, but I know me. I know my selfishness. I know how easily my heart is convinced in my own deservedness. The Roman officer stands out for me as a reminder of how to amaze the Savior. Less about me, all about him.

 

Trust and humility.

 

Easier said than done for sure, but this is a worthy goal. I want to amaze the Savior. I want Jesus delighted in my trust of his abilities. And I want to do so with a humble heart.

 

bold surrender

In one of the villages, Jesus met a man with an advanced case of leprosy. When the man saw Jesus, he bowed with his face to the ground, begging to be healed. “Lord,” he said, “if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.” Jesus reached out and touched him. “I am willing,” he said. “Be healed!” And instantly the leprosy disappeared. Then Jesus instructed him not to tell anyone what had happened. He said, “Go to the priest and let him examine you. Take along the offering required in the law of Moses for those who have been healed of leprosy. This will be a public testimony that you have been cleansed.”      Luke 5:12-14

 

When it comes to praying and asking the Lord for things it seems to me that there is always this tension. We want to pray boldly. We want to show God our trust and faith in him. At the same time, we want (or should want) to submit to God’s will and recognize that giving us what we are asking for may not be what God has in mind for us. Under all of this I wonder too if sometimes we want to pray boldly but are afraid. What if God doesn’t answer? What if we stand strong in our conviction of what is needed and ask and trust and have full assurance that God will do something and then…he just doesn’t?

 

It may be that I am the only one who feels this tension, but somehow I doubt it. There is this delicate balance in prayer. It’s not that we have to say things a certain way in order for God to hear us. It’s not that if we don’t use the right language God won’t answer our prayers. It’s more that how we pray reflects something about our hearts. About how we see God and see ourselves.

 

In the exchange recorded in Luke 5 I think there is much to consider regarding what it looks like to balance coming to God in bold faith with coming to God in submission to his right to do as he wills. Along with an attitude of trust that what he wills is always best.

 

Lord, if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.

 

What would have happened had Jesus said, “I am not willing this time.” The beautiful thing about this man’s prayer is that it leaves room for this response. Sometimes God doesn’t heal. Never because he can’t. Not because he doesn’t care. Sometimes God doesn’t heal because God has other things in mind. Coming to god acknowledging both his ability and his right to choose any response reveals a true heart of submitted trust.

 

I have always wrestled with the idea that praying boldly by demanding things of God—as some prayers tend to sound—doesn’t leave room for God’s right to say no. These types of prayers seem to imply that if I believe it’s right and good then there is no reason to think that God might see it differently. But sometimes he does. And so I love the attitude of the man with leprosy. He is taking nothing away from the ability of Jesus to heal him. But he acknowledges that Jesus may have something else in mind. That, for whatever reason, Jesus may not be willing. And this man doesn’t imply that he should be given the explanation if Jesus isn’t willing. In fact, he comes on his knees. His posture—as well as his speech—convey this attitude of surrendered, bold faith.

 

I’m not the best at praying. I want to be. I need to be better. This man who is healed by Jesus gives me an example of what it looks like to come boldly and still come humbly. It is wholly right and possible to come before the Lord with great, unwavering conviction and confidence in God’s ability and still surrender to his ways and insights which may run contrary to what I am asking for. It gives me hope and reminds me that God’s plan may not be visible to me. He will do as he pleases and it will be best.

 

My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.

For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.

                                                                                    Isaiah 55:8-9

 

road re-traveled

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Now go out where it is deeper, and let down your nets to catch some fish.”

 

“Master,” Simon replied, “we worked hard all last night and didn’t catch a thing. But if you say so, I’ll let the nets down again.” And this time their nets were so full of fish they began to tear! A shout for help brought their partners in the other boat, and soon both boats were filled with fish and on the verge of sinking.          Luke 5:4-7

 

I think it was Albert Einstein who once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. And who could argue with that thinking? It seems so right—often is so right. But what do we do when it’s God calling for the same road, calling us down the same path? And he’s saying, or maybe promising, or simply implying with his passionate imploring that this time…this time things will be different. This time the road re-traveled will end differently. This time the path well-trodden will lead us to a different destination.

 

Do I have the faith for this? Will I be so wildly foolish as to believe the same path can lead to a different place?

 

 

The world’s wisdom and God’s—they have different things to say about steps retraced, roads re-run. Who to believe? In the moment of now we all shout out with confidence that we will believe God. He knows best after all.

 

But what about when we’re tired? When we’ve been up all night working to no avail. When we just did what he says to do now and we know—we really just know—that it won’t end any differently. Will we have the faith then? Will we be willingly seen as foolish or crazy? Will we go and do what we just went and did and know, or at least hope, that because God is calling us that the road re-traveled will take us to something new?

 

Or maybe I’m missing the point completely. Jesus never tells Peter things will end differently. They do, we know now. But Jesus doesn’t promise that they will catch a huge load. He tells him to put down the nets to catch fish, but he doesn’t actually explain that they will catch any. Sometimes the road re-traveled will simply take us to the same end.

 

But are we the same for having traveled it twice? Are we unchanged for having walked in obedience, focusing not so much on how it ends as to the fact that we’ve been invited to travel?

 

 

I have said it before and I will keep saying it until my own heart starts hearing it: So much in our walk with Jesus is about the journey as much as the destination. Obviously, we are moving toward eternity and our goal is heaven and restoration and communion with the Father. But the journey holds much treasure. Progress isn’t always measured in distance traveled. With Jesus, sometimes it’s in the steps retraced. A walk down a familiar road to see myself more clearly, to see Jesus more fully, to practice obedience and trust. And sometimes, the destination will be different. It certainly was for the stubborn fisherman who practiced true trust and obeyed without regard.

 

“But if you say so…I will.”

 

desert of glory

Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil for forty days. Jesus ate nothing all that time and became very hungry.        Luke 4:1-2

 

Whenever I read about the temptation of Jesus I am always led back to the same thought…

 

Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness where he was tempted.

 

God led his Son into the desert wilderness where he would be tempted. Something about that flies in the face of what I want to be true. Something about that is contrary to the ways I want to think about God interacting with us. It doesn’t feel helpful. It doesn’t feel like what God’s “job” should be.

 

In thinking this I reveal some very sinful things about myself. Namely that I tend to think about my relationship with the Father as if it’s all about me, rather than being all about him. I like to think of the give and take being about bringing me help and ease rather than it being about bringing him glory.

 

I have things turned around.

 

This is why, when temptations come—or hardships—I can so easily slip into the “woe is me” mentality. I can start to feel sorry for myself because I have let myself believe that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But is that right?

 

Granted, in the larger scheme of things this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Sin, temptation, brokenness and hardship—these aren’t the things God created us for when he first breathed creation into existence. But we brought these things into the world and are continually perpetuating them. We are sinners who wander from the narrow path, wallow in our own filthy sin, and then wonder why God would let us get so dirty.

 

God, on the other hand, while not creating us to live in sin and brokenness, did create us to bring him glory. And now that we find ourselves in the bed we’ve made, with all the sin and pain and brokenness of the world, God’s point has not changed. We’re still here to bring him glory. And sometimes that means leading us to places where our faith will be tested. Sometimes that means putting us in positions where we must make a painful choice.

 

How important will honoring God be when the path to giving him glory is personally painful and potentially hazardous to our own wants?

 

My mind automatically goes to the call of Abraham to sacrifice his Son Isaac. This is such a beautiful picture of the father sacrificing son for the glory of God. A very powerful telling of the truth of God our Father’s own plan and willingness to sacrifice all to bring us to his glory. But it is also the telling of a specific man’s struggle to be led down the path of the dark valley so that he may see the light that is found on the other side. It is a testimony to trusting God rather than self and being willing to surrender to anything our Father may call us to.

 

God will sometimes lead us to paths we would never choose for ourselves. And we must choose to follow or to rebel. The key, I think, is that we must choose before we get to that fork in the road—before the choice is before us. Can we accept that God is calling us to live lives that glorify him without regard for our own personal protection and pleasure?

 

I want to say yes! I want to shout it and believe it and live it…but I know myself. I know my own tendencies and my insatiable selfishness. I know that I can’t follow well on my own. Only by the grace and power of Christ can I be who I want to be—who I was created to be. Only by surrendering in the now will I ever be prepared then to follow on when the path is dark and the choices unwanted. Only by taking seriously the practice of following the Spirit when life is less threatening will I ever choose to follow into the desert when the Spirit leads to places I don’t want to go.

 

It was by faith that Abraham offered Isaac as a sacrifice when God was testing him. Abraham, who had received God’s promises, was ready to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, even though God had told him, “Isaac is the son through whom your descendants will be counted.” Abraham reasoned that if Isaac died, God was able to bring him back to life again. And in a sense, Abraham did receive his son back from the dead.              Hebrews 11:17-19

 

To trust God in the darkness and pain is far more glorifying to him than to glad hand him in the ease of getting what I want.

 

Father, may I learn to follow well and surrender sincerely today. I know the desert times will come and the leading of the Spirit will not always be on easy roads that head in the general directions I have in mind. If not for your grace I will never make it; and only by your grace will the glory be truly yours. May your grace ever lead me to places of unending glory for you. May I learn to be about you rather than for me.