Forgiven-ness

It's been two days since Easter...two days of staring at earless chocolate bunnies, piles of candy wrappers, dirty dishes, and crumpled church bulletins—the inevitable leftovers of an annual celebration which seems to bewilder most of the U.S. population...

I don't know what Easter was like for you. Maybe it was a blur of sugar and relatives. Maybe you went to church. Maybe you actually enjoyed church. Maybe, while you were at church, you actually thought about what Easter really means. Perhaps it crossed your mind that eggs and bunnies and pastel colors don't really matter, that "Easter" is actually a celebration of the fact that a man from Nazareth rose from the dead after being tortured and crucified and spending three days in a grave. I sincerely hope that Easter, for you, was a time of peace and reflection, a time to thank Christ for His work on the cross and for the miracle of His resurrection.

...but what's on your mind now? I think we would all like to answer this question the same way that we would have answered two days ago, with words that sound as if they were taken straight from the New Testament, full of praise and thankfulness and passion for the creed we preach. But I've talked to a lot of people since Sunday, including myself (it really helps to clarify things, you know), and it seems like most of us are missing something. It's not like we lost it after Easter. Rather, in our failure to live as if every day were Easter—a celebration of the resurrection of our Savior—we have slipped into complacency and worry.

We're not the only ones to slide in and out of spiritual highs. Look at Elijah, for example. After standing before the nation of Israel in opposition to the prophets of Baal and boldly calling on his God, this powerful prophet watched fire come down from heaven and consume his sodden sacrifice. He then, by the power of God, outran King Ahab's chariot for about seventeen miles. He had every reason to trust in God and to rest in his identity in his Maker. But the very next chapter of his story (I Kings 19) records him moaning over his life, crying, "I have had enough, LORD...Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors" (v. 4, NIV 1984). (If you have some time, read the rest of his story to see how God replies. It's pretty cool.)

Why do we, like Elijah, so often fall into forgetfulness? Do we not realize the extent to which we are saved?

Read this. Read it slowly, and know that it is true!

"The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will He harbor His anger forever; He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His love for those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him; for He knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust. As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD's love is with those who fear Him..." —Psalm 103:8-17a (NIV 1984)

Finger through the rest of Scripture. Ease your mind in taking in the love letter that your Creator has written for you. Look at what He has done. Remember that you are FORGIVEN.

There's no need for our spiritual life to feel like a rollercoaster. We serve an unchanging God. Even though our circumstances may whirl around us in what looks, to our finite eyes, like pure chaos, our God stands firm. And we are anchored to Him.

Rooted in this identity, we can live in a state of forgiven-ness. Grasp this. Know that it is true. By God's grace, you are not who you used to be. You are forgiven, and this is a big deal. Bob Goff phrases this concept well: "Every time we believe the lie that we're who we used to be, we roll the stone back into place like nothing happened."¹

Beloved child of God, let your old self rot with the chocolate bunnies you threw out after Easter. Don't touch it again. Live in forgiven-ness, knowing that you are free. Start singing a new song. You, my friend, are free.

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¹ Facebook post from 04.21.2014.

Your Coat of Arms

Crack! The young soldier awoke with a start. Unwilling to sit up in fear that the noise he had heard signaled danger, he lay as still as possible, moving only his exhausted eyes as he scanned the dismal camp. Another loud crack sounded just behind his right ear. Before he could remind himself to stay still, his head swiveled around toward the source of the noise. He focused on the scene just in time to observe a thick branch on the oak tree at the corner of the camp snap under the weight of the snow it bore, and he sighed in relief—admiring the white wisps of his breath on the icy night air as he realized he was safe.

The weary soldier settled himself once again, pulling his worn red blanket up to his chin to shield his shivering frame from the cold night. He listened to the heavy breathing of his comrades, interrupted every now and then by a startled snore or the rustle of blankets as they moved in their sleep. Looking up at the star-filled sky, he allowed his mind to drift to the battle planned for the morning. Dawn would not bring hope for this group. Is it worth it? he dared to ask. What if we don't make it? Is it worth it then? He glanced at his brother, who slept soundly next to him, curled in a ball under an identical red blanket. He swallowed nervously and turned his head to the other side. His musket lie near his head, bearing a careful carving of the name of his country—his purpose in being here. Is it worth it? he asked again. His thoughts were broken by a yawn. Knowing that he couldn't afford to keep himself awake much longer, he faded off to sleep again.

*****

"Here is your sword, my lord." The king looked at his wide-eyed servant, answering him by staring soberly at the shining weapon he offered. He accepted it in silence, slowly lifting it from the servant's calloused hands into the warm light which shone through the tiny window on his left. As he ran his eyes over the detailed metalwork on the handle of his most prized possession, the rays of light which had forced their way through the window reflected off the polished blade, dancing about the room in an airy happiness that the king longed to share. Sighing slowly, the king slipped the sword into its scabbard. Without taking his eyes off the weapon as it swung gently at his side, the king dismissed his servant.

Turning to face the small window, he placed his hands on his hips. He squinted at the bright sunlight for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He could feel the weight of the breastplate he wore as his chest lifted to take in the sweet air of his bedroom. He opened his eyes again, fixing his gaze on the bold image which stretched across his shining armor—his purpose in being here. Raising his eyes to the window again, his brow furrowed as he wondered what the day would hold. Is it worth it? he wondered. Can I lead my people into battle again? Is the emblem on my chest enough reason to push on?

*****

Tick, tick, tick, tick. With burning eyes, the young woman watched as the slender hand of the old clock advanced all too quickly toward its peak. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Midnight was coming. Clutching the glass of sparkling cider in her right hand as if it alone could stall the hurried clock, she wiped her forehead with the back of her other hand. The excited chattering of her friends, the clinking of the toasting glasses, and the vibrant beat of the music seemed to choke her. Every sound grew relentlessly louder, appearing to match the merciless tick of the clock.

The woman peeled her eyes from this enemy for a moment to examine the party around her. Is everybody laughing? she wondered. Am I the only one who wishes this new year would not come? Her gaze flickered back to the clock, though she disdained to watch it this time. Looking down at her cider, she rubbed the delicate glass with her thumb. She raised her left hand, intending to wipe her forehead again, but paused with her arm suspended in front of her face as her eyes rested on the tiny bracelet that shimmered on her wrist—her purpose in being here. Or was it? Did I live by that this year? she mused. I said I would. Did I do it? Frowning, she turned her wrist slowly, examining the full length of the delicate jewelry. Is it worth it to live this? Is it worth it?

*****

"What do I stand for? Am I left? Am I right? Am I up and down? Am I east? Am I west? Do I wear the crown? Is my creed worth dying for?

"What do I live for? Can you tell on my face what my heart beats for? Do the words that I speak show it to the core? Does my glow outshine the stars? Can you see my coat of arms?"¹

*****

December 31, 2013: the last day of the year. It's a time of reflection for many, a time of repression for others. I suppose you all know me well enough to guess which path I choose—which path I'm begging you to choose. I disdain to write too much on this topic, but I do hope that you take a few minutes today—right now, in fact—to consider the questions posed here.

What did you live for this year? What name is written on your gun? What image do you bear on your breastplate? What do you find on the bracelet on your arm?

Is it worth it?

Are you living like it's worth it?

Can they see your coat of arms?

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¹ Jonathan Thulin, “Coat of Arms” (2012). 

When All Else Fails

"This is what the Sovereign LORD says to Tyre: Will not the coastlands tremble at the sound of your fall, when the wounded groan and the slaughter takes place in you? Then all the princes of the coast will step down from their thrones and lay aside their robes and take off their embroidered garments. Clothed with terror, they will sit on the ground, trembling every moment, appalled at you." —Ezekiel 26:15-16 (NIV 1984)

Ezekiel...one of the least-quoted books of the Bible—and understandably so. People don't like to dwell on the depressing scenes this prophet describes. We like the pretty passages soaked with God's love, the ones that are easier for our brains to comprehend, the ones that make us "feel good." But there's a lot more to the Bible than that...

This particular passage discusses the fall of Tyre, "an ancient Phoenician city-state on the Mediterranean, between Acre and Sidon."¹ Ezekiel 27 presents an extensive description of this city, noting its reputation as a center of trade, its vast wealth, and the many nations which admired its success and relied on it for their own well-being. Despite the praise attributed to Tyre by the nations surrounding it, God had His own words to offer the prideful city. Ezekiel 26:3-6 reads:

...therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I am against you, O Tyre, and I will bring many nations against you, like the sea casting up its waves. They will destroy the walls of Tyre and pull down her towers; I will scrape away her rubble and make her a bare rock. Out in the sea she will become a place to spread fishnets, for I have spoken, declares the Sovereign LORD. She will become plunder for the nations, and her settlements on the mainland will be ravaged by the sword. Then they will know that I am the LORD. (NIV 1984)

Why was God so "against" a city that the rest of the world adored? For the same reason that He stands against most things we adore...Tyre was drenched with sin, blinded by pride, and yet standing as a stronghold for the nations. People looked up to Tyre, clung to Tyre, and honored Tyre. If Tyre stood, they could stand.

The problem: Tyre couldn't stand. Standing in God's spot is impossible, and that's what this stubborn city was attempting to do. Thus, it was destined to fall.

The aftermath of this destruction is prophesied in Ezekiel 27:34-35: "Now you [Tyre] are shattered by the sea in the depths of the waters; your wares and all your company have gone down with you. All who live in the coastlands are appalled at you; their kings shudder with horror and their faces are distorted with fear" (NIV 1984).

Why were the people so distraught at the fall of Tyre? Their great city, their idol—the one thing they never thought would fall—was gone. They were left to sit in the dust, befuddled, too astonished to even contemplate their next step. Imagine losing the very source of your identity. Imagine that the stronghold that you had placed every bit of your trust in suddenly crumbled beneath you. The nations relying on Tyre were reduced to this position.

I think most of you reading this blog are having no trouble relating to their state. I too feel their pain. Is anyone's heart exempt from the raw wounds of betrayal?

Yet what else do we expect? Humans fail. We fail so much that even the word "human" has become an excuse for failure. "I'm human," we say. And so are all the other humans out there (though we often leave that part out). We are all brutally, inexcusably, painfully human...

When our strongholds fall, we are stupefied. From our perspective, the whole world has crumbled. But is there any way to find a stronghold that doesn't fall? A tower that doesn't topple? A person that doesn't let us down?

Yes.

Yes, there is. But there's only one.

And here is what He says: 

Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash. (Matthew 7:24-27)

There is only one foundation that will hold us, only one stronghold in which we can confidently place our trust, only one Rock in the sea of sand. We've heard about Him, this Jesus of Nazareth...but the question remains: Will we put His words into practice? Will we trust Him? Will we trust Him with everything?

It's hard for us to place our faith in something after we've been broken so many times. We don't want to hurt again.

But He's not like everything else we have tried to put our hope in. He doesn't fall.

I don't tell you this because it's the right answer, the one we all learned in Sunday School. I write to you with a heart that is broken and bleeding. Pain is inexpressible sometimes—and I feel that. I feel it constantly. But I also feel something more than the pain—something stronger and even more inexpressible. I feel joy. I feel peace. I feel safe—even though everything I have ever depended on has been ripped from my hands, even though my heart has been torn to pieces...

...because all that I am rests securely on the Rock: my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Turn to Him. He will be the stronghold that does not fail.
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¹ Source: Ryrie, Charles Caldwell, Th.D., Ph.D. Ryrie Study Bible: New International Version. Chicago: Moody, 2008. Print. See comment on Ezekiel 26:2.

Making Use of the Meanwhile

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: 'It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord." —Romans 12:18-19 (NIV 1984)

Such a commonly-quoted passage of Scripture, isn't it? Yes, yes, God will repay. Meanwhile, I...

You will, will you?

What will you do, if I may ask?

The answers to this question are all too typical. We all answer in essentially the same way, myself included. Here are some common responses, from my own experience (meaning, from my own stubborn head):

• "I will wait on God, of course. Duh! I mean, that's what the verse says to do! But while I'm waiting, I'll have to stay away from that person. I don't want to get hurt again, after all."
• "Oh, I'll wait. Yeah. But I'm still angry with him/her—righteous anger, you know? Anyway, he/she better watch out, just in case..."
• "I will...wait, I suppose. I'm sure an almighty God can do something much worse to him/her than I could ever think up. I'll wait for that outcome."
• "I? I will make sure God doesn't take too long with this revenging business! I'll even throw in a few stones of my own, just so He doesn't forget His mission here."

These are not, by any means, the only responses. But they are typical, and they certainly shed a steady light on the emotions that tend to govern our reaction to pain. When someone wrongs us, we feel raw. We feel offended, betrayed, afraid, rejected, defensive, angry, confused, and—above all—hurt. With all these emotions—and more—surging through our bodies, it is not surprising that we often lash out at the one who hurt us. We act or speak before we think.

Everything that I have just described is totally normal, totally human. But that doesn't excuse it.

So what do we do, then? After all, we still have to wait on God. There is still a "meanwhile." But how should we, as ambassadors of Christ in a dark, sinful, and painful world, use it?

Let's take a look at the verses that follow those previously quoted: "On the contrary: 'If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good" (Romans 12:20-21, NIV 1984).

Oh, I get it! you say. If I just be nice, that is my revenge! Burning coals? I like the sound of that!

But that's not the point. Revenge is God's. God's alone. Our goal here is not "killing with kindness," as the old saying goes. It's service. It's love.

Why? Because that's what Christ did for us. "But God demonstrated His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8, NIV 1984).

Here is what we have to remember in all this: Our God is YHWH. He is good. He is just. He is love. And we? We are nothing. Yet He gave everything to purchase us with His own pure, holy blood. Our response—to Him, to our enemies, to our friends—should be love. Pure, unselfish love. As I John 4:19 reads, "We love because He first loved us" (NIV 1984). And He will fill us with that love. We have only to ask.

You see, the whole point is not revenge at all. We know that God will avenge. He promised to do so in this very passage of Scripture. But surely we would not wish that even the world's worst offenders would experience the wrath of the Almighty God. Surely our hope is that God will open their eyes to salvation and peace in Him! God will avenge, but, in the meantime, let's love. Let's love our offenders so much that they wonder what's up with all the backwards Christians in the world.

Abraham Lincoln once asked, "Am I not destroying my enemies when I make friends of them?" Perhaps that should be our perspective. Our purpose here on earth, after all, is to share the Gospel. What better way to do it than to look our enemies straight in the face and tell them—no, show them—"I love you."

Will they hurt us again? Maybe. Probably. But where is our confidence? In whom is our identity? As Christians, what have we to lose?