The Quest

Clips from "The Man of La Mancha."  Yes, Don Quixote (as portrayed in the movie, not so much in the book) is one of my childhood heroes.  I have loved this song "The Impossible Dream (The Quest)" for its bold inspiration since I was in middle school.  I always wanted to follow it, but never thought I could (after all, I thought God wanted me to live small--I discussed this falsehood in "Nice Guys and the Good Guy Rebellion").  Now though, if anything, I think it's too small.  For one, in the clips, I think Dulcinea says something to the effect that all that matters is following the quest, even if you fail and are defeated--that's not supposed to matter as long as you died following your quest!  Well, not to undercut the nobility of Don Quixote, but success or failure means a lot to me.  I will not give my life for a quest, or anything, without caring a great deal whether or not the quest was fulfilled and my sacrifice meaningful.  Only suicidal fools devote everything to something they care nothing about.  Still, the noble call of "The Quest" is something that resonates with me, and always has.  It is, at the least, a good place to start.  So, here's a brief response in the form of a commitment between myself and God, for "The Quest".

To dream the impossible dream,
Father, I swear to You that, as You enable me, I will have the faith and vision to believe You for impossible things, to overcome impossible obstacles by Your help.

To fight the unbeatable foe,
I swear, as You strengthen me, to resist the devil and all the forces of evil, where ever I find them, with all the strength, might, and cunning that You give me.

To bear with unbearable sorrow,
I swear, by Your grace, to be true and sincere in my heart and in my relationships with others, learning to rejoice, laugh, shout, and cry just as You do.

To run where the brave dare not go,
I swear to be brave and bold, to act with courage and valor, not giving in to fear, because I know that You are with me and You are greater than all my fears.

To right the unrightable wrong,
I swear, through Your power working in me, to confront the ills I see in the world around me, overcome them, and help others to do likewise: to leave the world a better place.

To love pure and chaste from afar,
I swear, as You make me able, to love You--my God--, my (someday) future wife, my brothers and sisters in Christ, my neighbors, and my enemies, as You have taught me: purely, righteously, actively, and passionately.

To try when your arms are too weary,
I swear to never give up, as You help me and give me strength day by day for my struggles.

To reach the unreachable star!
Most of all, I swear to reach out to You, the bright Morning Star (Revelation 2:28 & 22:16), and take hold of You--and be taken hold of by You (Philippians 3:12)--forever, through Your grace and by faith in You.

This is my quest:
To follow that star,
No matter how hopeless,
No matter how far!
To fight for the right,
Without question or pause.
To be willing to march into Hell
For the Heavenly cause!
And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest,
Then my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.
And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star!

Why does God love His Saints?

Here's a post for the sake of my own memory, and of anyone else who struggles with this question.  I know I'm prone to forgetting the answer to this one.

Last weekend, the Navigators of CSU had the distinct privilege of hosting Jerry Bridges, author of the book The Pursuit of Holiness, which we are currently studying.  He spoke at NavNight that Friday and then gave another speech to the student leaders the next morning.  There, he confessed that the one thing he thought was lacking in The Pursuit of Holiness was sufficient reminders of the grace of the gospel, which is central to the pursuit of holiness in a Christian's life.  He said that, in his experience, Christians had two very different ideas about why God loved them and why they stood justified before Him.  Of course, every true Christian knows that at the moment of salvation it is not his or her good works that bring God's favor.  At salvation, the great truth is that God's favor is given solely on the basis of God's grace, totally unmerited by any works.  Of course, the focus at the moment of salvation is often another moment: the moment when we will stand before God.  We know that, at that moment, as at the moment of salvation, we will be justified before God and receive His eternal love in Heaven solely on the basis of His infinite grace, not merited by our good works or lack thereof (mostly the latter!).

But what about in between?  What about in our day-to-day lives, somewhere between the Cross of conversion and the Throne of God?  Right now, if I were to ask you if God is pleased with you, whether you are justified before Him and abiding in His love, what comes to your mind?  The cross of Christ?  I confess this is not what I first think of.  What pops immediately into my mind is a checklist of things I'm supposed to do, as a good little Christian, and a list of sins I'm supposed to avoid.  Did I have a quiet time this morning?  No, well, that's minus 2.  Did I evangelize any this week?  Yes!  Well, sort of...aww, I'll give myself five points anyway.  Have I been keeping up with my prayers [Yes, I honestly think of it this way far too often]?  Well, no, not today, but I got my whole prayer list for yesterday, that's gotta be worth a point.  Have I sinned, to my knowledge, today?  Well, yeah...guess that's two off...  Have I confessed that sin and made it right with God?  Well, honestly, no.  I was waiting for my quiet time so I could get the points from that before I brought up those sinful thoughts from this morning.  Rats, that's worse than the sin was to start with: minus six.  So, in all, is God pleased with me?  Am I justified in His sight?  Does He love me?  Well, guess not, I mean, I added up my good and bad from the day so far and I got a -4.  God must be upset with me 'cause I'm such a bad Christian.  He must not love me just now.  Now, I don't doubt for a moment that I'm saved by grace and that, if, as I was adding up my -4 score for the day, I was hit by a bus, I would still go to Heaven to be with God, based on the cross of Christ--well, maybe I doubt it a little as I stare at that negative score Oh, no!  Doubting God's grace for my salvation!  No good Christian ever does that!  It's gotta be minus 15!  Now, God must hate me!--but I certainly find it difficult to believe in His love for me at that moment.


To quote a more eloquent Christian (my thanks to Jerry Bridges who shared this quote from some other writer, I think...): "I know we're saved by grace, but I'm certain we gain His favor through our obedience."  Yet there is a big problem with this day-to-day performance-based theology: we never obey perfectly, though the Spirit lives within us and gives us everything we need for perfect holiness.  All too often, we are with Paul, bemoaning our poor performance and wondering why we always seem to do the opposite of what we know we should do (Romans 7:15 & 19).  This being the case, if God's love and favor in our present lives is based on our broken obedience, God must not love us at all in this life!

God has something to say about this.  His constant reminders of His unfailing, unchanging, unconditional love (throughout scripture and daily life) overwhelm my wall of doubts.  His brazen love for me confronts my scorecard and begs the question: Is God mistaken?  What should I do, shout up to the Heavens: Hello?  Didn't you check my scorecard today?  I just added it up and it's about twenty below.  You can't possibly love me today.  It's not allowed, and certainly not in this sort of intimate incredible way, God.  Wait until I do my quiet time, go to Bible study, do some evangelism, and say some really great prayers, then I'll have a nice fat positive score again and You can love me all You want....Just not now God, honestly, You of all people should know that sort of thing is wrong!  It's ridiculous to the point of being comical in print, and yet tragic in it's reality.  Quite often when I'm conscious that I'm not living up to the image of the "perfect Christian good-guy" in my head, and yet God shows His love to me in some profound and powerful way, this is exactly the way I feel and exactly what I'm tempted to say to God.  Don't touch me now, God.  I'm a mess.  I haven't cleaned this sin out of my life.  I haven't touched up my Christian face with some make-up spirituality all day.  I'm gross.  Please don't love me, just leave me alone for now.  How about tomorrow, if I get cleaned up?  God's reaction seems to range from a bemused shake of the head to heated rage (the latter especially when I'm a real mess and the temptation to push His love away is so strong--and yet He and I both know that if I don't have His love expressed to me and held in the forefront of my mind at those moments, when I most need it, I'll be sunk.  He won't let me get away with spurning Him at a time like that [hmf, listen to the ridiculous pride of it, spurning God]).  In the Bible, by Paul, God decries this sort of a mentality: "Are you so foolish?", he says in Galatians 3:3, "After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?"  Where in the Bible does it say that the grace of God is limited to salvation and the Judgment Seat?  Where in the Bible does it say that we are to earn the favor of God day-to-day?  Rather, Galatians 2:20 says that the grace of the cross applies to our lives which we live now, in this flesh.  Yes, it is justifies us before God in Heaven, when we die, but between now and then, it does not somehow pass out of potency.  God does not extend one type of love to us on Judgment Day and another on Tuesdays.  It is the same unconditional love, the same grace based on the sacrifice of Christ, that we look forward to at the end of our lives which we receive even now (along with discipline--based in that love--and hardships).  When God chooses to share His love with us, who am I to question it and declare the cross ineffectual?  When I'm asked whether I'm in God's favor today, I should forget the scorecard and look at the cross.  Yup, it's still there.  He must love me a lot, today!


To know that the basis of God's love is our identity in Christ (which in turn is based in Christ--in the identity of God: that is to say, Of course God loves His saints, 'cause they're His and He's God!) and not our shady performance is comforting and freeing for me.  My sins, present and past, are nailed to the cross, and I need no longer be petrified of them.  When I've sinned, I can boldly confess it before the throne of God, trusting that He will forgive me of whatever it is I've done by the blood of Christ...just as He always does, Is He not the Father of faithfulness?  I need not sit around worrying that I might sin and crash into an abyss of a week, a day, an hour, or even sixty seconds without God's unfailing love.  What could I possibly do that would max out His sacrifice?  This is not to say I should not take sin seriously or I should feel free to sin all I want.  Rather the assurance of God's unfailing love should embolden me to do righteous deeds, though I know that this entails a risk of screwing up and winding up in sin (like they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  I've ventured nothing enough for one life!).

I'll end with this thought from Lamentations 3:22-23, on the unfailing love and bottomless grace of God in daily life:

"It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.  They are new every morning: Great is Thy faithfulness!"

"Nice Guys" and the "Good Guy Rebellion"

So, last Friday on the Navigator's retreat, I found a book they were selling called No More Christian Nice Guy by Paul Coughlin:"When being nice--instead of good--hurts men, women, and children".  I was intrigued and bought it.  I began reading it over the weekend (I actually finished it on Monday after my return), and have been mulling over what it said for a week now.

It is, essentially, a book about the epidemic of masculine passivity.  The "nice" guy, Coughlin declares, is not really a good man.  He is driven by fear of conflict and the legalistic idea of universal politeness.  True godly masculinity is often embroiled in conflict and is often (especially in our day) socially unacceptable (Jesus demonstrated masculinity's rougher side in His heated interactions with the Pharisees--wherein He was certainly good rather than "nice").  This being the case, the "nice" guy plasters his masculinity (in part or whole) over with a facade of more acceptable "niceness."  The "nice" guy is the polar opposite of the brute.  The brute overdoes his masculine roughness because he doesn't know how to really be a man; the "nice" guy hides his masculine roughness because he's afraid of it.

I could see all this and how it played out in and was contributed to by our culture, something Coughlin spent a great deal of time on.  He also argued that many churches were contributing to the problem by de-emphasizing Jesus' rougher side, elevating virtues of passivity and politeness, and catering almost exclusively to women.  This last seriously bothers me and I've noticed it too, before I even read Coughlin's book.  Think about it.  Dig out the nearest church bulletin you can find.  Count up the number of women's events--event's catering exclusively to women, with the word "women's" in their title, just to simplify things.  I count 4 in my bulletin, which seems to be a fair average.  Now do the same for events catering to men.  I count zero, which is the same number I come up with every Sunday.  In one week, the church I attend announces 4 events exclusively for women and in four years I've only heard of 4 events offered exclusively for men.  In this way, the church merely reflects our culture, where women's support groups, advocacy offices, clubs, and scholarships are everywhere and often no equivalents exist for men.  If we want to know why women now outnumber men both at church and in the school, we need look no farther.  Sexism is coming full circle.

Now, this is all very interesting and I am very passionate about it, to be sure, but this is not why I read Coughlin's book in three days (something I never do) or why I feel compelled to blog about it now, here.  Why I devoured his book was because I was interested in what he said about the "Christian Nice Guy," the male who thought manliness was ungodly and passivity was a virtue.  I was fascinated because I discovered I was one.  Coughlin--an ex-CNG (Christian Nice Guy) himself--gives a list of questions by which a CNG can be identified.  He says, "If you answer yes to one or two, the nice guy problem is in your blood and it may well get worse.  Yes to three to five, and you're a runaway train of destruction--with a deceptive smiley face on the locomotive."  He then lists 24 questions, 5 of which are inapplicable because they address married men.  The others are as follows, along with my original answers:

Do you dismiss or never discuss parts of the Bible where Jesus isn't nice? "Yes." 

When wondering "WWJD" do you assume a gentle response? "Yes."

Do you think conflict and anger are sins? "Yes."

Are you the guy at church who never says no to an assignment, even if it diminishes other important aspects of your life? "No."

Do you think that being nice, observing etiquette, and knowingly allowing yourself to be used by others nevertheless leads people to salvation? "Yes."

Do you find yourself saying one thing to one person and something different to another? "At times, yes."

Do you smile even when you don't like what's happening to you, then rant and fume about it later? "Yes."

Do you hide your mistakes, even when the consequences are little or none? "Yes."

Do you find yourself working for abusive bosses? "No."

Do you make less money than you know you should? "No."

Do you feel embarrassed when people compliment you? "Oh, yeah!"

Are you envious when you see other men showing deep emotion? "Yes."

Do women like talking with you, but then show no romantic interest? "Yes.  0 for 4 cannot be a coincidence."

Do you think it's selfish to have your own wants and desires? "Yes."

Do you think avoiding conflict will make your life better? "Yes."

If someone is angry with you, do you automatically believe or sense that they're right to feel that way? "Yes."

Do you hide your flaws, even from those close to you? "Yes."

Does fear often stop you from moving ahead? "Yes."

Do you think being nice will make you stand out among other men? "Yes."

That's 16 "yes," where only five were required for positive identification as a CNG.  My first thought upon seeing this was, "Oh, snap!  I've got a big problem!"  I was right.  As Coughlin unfolded his description of the CNG, I saw more and more how it fit the way my life has been for much of the past 21 years.  The good news is that "nice" guy's aren't born, they're made--and as such, can be unmade: freeing the Christian good guys God made them to be.  In my case, I discovered that, looking back for the roots of my issues, I was raised a "nice" guy.  My Dad is a CNG, recovering (to some extent) from legalistic standards based on social refinement rather than godliness, and still passive about many things, including--tragically for the church he's pastoring--evangelism.  My Mom has some female variant, I'm sure, as many of her morals seem built around social taboos rather than the Bible and she demonstrates low self-worth by allowing herself to be used as a doormat--a hallmark of the CNG.  This last is especially evident whenever she's sick, debilitated by pain or nausea, and it takes a conspiracy of the whole family to keep her out of the kitchen and get her to lie down--for she insists on trying to cook and clean while she can hardly stay upright, though she knows that every other member of our family is equally capable of these tasks and have often assumed them before she can stagger in to try to take over.  While both godly "good guys" and CNG's are willing to suffer for others, their behavior and motivations are markedly different.  Good guys are willing to suffer for others when necessary, because they love as Christ commanded and see the worth of the other person, as God sees.  CNG insist on suffering "for others" when its unnecessary, not because of love for others or belief in the worthiness of others, but because of an underlying belief of the CNG that they themselves are essentially worthless and deserve to suffer even (and especially) if it does no one any good (in fact, a CNG will likely shirk from suffering for a worthy cause or in a necessary situation for fear of making things worse).  My Mom's insistence on needless suffering seems to stem from a CNG-like mentality.

I love my parents.  I think they're Christians who try hard to honor God the best they know how, but they've swallowed some CNG lies whole and passed them on to me, through their values and excessive discipline before I entered middle school.  In collusion with the culture around me, they (no doubt without knowing what they were doing) impressed upon me ideals of passivity, devalued true masculinity (which is never passive--even on the cross, no one took Jesus's life: He gave it for love of us and of the Father [John 10:15, 17-18]), and undermined my self-worth.  During my middle-school and early teenage years, I rebelled in secret against them, falling into sinful addictions--hiding them from everyone, including myself.  The damage was extensive, amplifying the CNG problem.  Sin, in my case, led not only to feelings of guilt for what I'd done, but feelings of shame for who I was as a person.  My self-esteem tanked, but I'd been raised to think that didn't matter.  I specialized in self-deprecating humor, not because I thought it was funny but because I thought it was true.  I fell to "punishing" myself by cutting myself.  I thought about suicide, but couldn't seriously consider it because it wouldn't be "nice" to others.  As it was, I considered myself a monster: loved by others only because they couldn't see who I really was, and merely tolerated by God whose great wrath at me was only restrained by my faith in Christ.  I truly believed that the only impact I could possibly have on the world was negative.  Fearing this, I earnestly prayed and sought to have no impact whatsoever.  I avoided conflict and meaningful activities because I feared them.  More than once I prayed that God would just kill me in my sleep.

But God was a hero, a real warrior rescuing me from this mess.  When I cut myself, He protected me and I never drew much blood or caused any lasting harm.  Often I could not even break the skin.  This frustrated me immensely because of my shame and self-hatred.  How dare God protect a monster like me, I thought.  But God, from the moment He began to speak to my heart spoke of love and of the worth He saw in me--His creation, His son, and the purchase of His blood.  My wrestling with that is written of in my August entry "To Walk with Him in White."  It took a while, but eventually I came around.  He never gave up on me, and eventually I started believing what He said: that I really was redeemed as a person, and was a saint rather than a monster.  I began questioning my legalistic morality and finding real godly principles to live by.  I realized God as the Lover of my soul rather than its reluctant master.  In reading Coughlin's book, all of these things, which seemed so separate in my mind came together.  I'm now committed to what Coughlin calls "the Good Guy Rebellion."  It's manifesto and creed is the Bible, including the parts where Jesus isn't nice.  It's purpose and goal is to live lives of true, genuine, godly masculinity--forsaking passivity and facades and facing down fears.  I am committed to being a real man now, instead of a just a nice guy.  I do not know exactly what that entails or what it will end up looking like, but I know God will guide me and I will end up looking more like Him and glorifying Him more.  I am excited to chart a new course for my life, especially as I consider how few have gone before me and how great a legacy these godly men have left behind.  I understand it will not be easy.  I do not ask for easy--I know my God will bear me up through all difficulties and give me victory over every obstacle.  What I do ask is that it be worth it--and I see it as the noblest cause I can devote my life to, especially today as it becomes more critical with each passing year as the epidemic of male passivity spreads and deepens.

I ask you, reader, to join me.  If you're a man, be a good, godly, active man.  If you're "nice" rather than good, find the lies you believe and apply God's truth.  Seek professional help if necessary (Coughlin found it necessary).  If you're a woman, be a godly woman (whatever that looks like: consult the Bible and godly women in your life): in addition to being the right thing to do (as if you need another reason), it encourages godly masculinity in the guys around you.  Whatever your situation, I ask that you also pray for me, and other Christian men, for it's only by God's grace, power, and love that we'll accomplish our goals and be who and what we're meant to be.

Choice

I guess when it comes to issues of predestination vs free-will, I am probably best described as a Neo-Calvinist (thanks to Chris for pointing this out).  This means that I am pretty big on predestination, occasionally bordering on fatalism (which can be deadly--haha, get it?! Fatal, deadly...okay, I thought it was funny).  I believe that everything, every action, reaction, motion, spirit, thought, emotion, particle, and variable in the entire universe is accounted for in God's plan for the universe.  Though we have free-will and may exercise it against God, He ultimately has foreseen and accounted for this as well--and would not have allowed us to do it unless somehow God could further his plan through it.

Lately, though I've been wondering if my understanding of this is too limiting.  Essentially, my previous understanding comes down to this: God has a plan for everything, we get to choose what we do, but ultimately He knows how to pull the strings on our character in such a way that He can get us to do whatever He wants.  Sounds like Puppet Planet.  I still think it's true, that God knows us so intimately that He can essentially control our decisions and reduce our free-will to a figure of speech.  However, I no longer believe that He actually exercises that power (God has a lot of powers that, for some gracious reason all His own, He chooses not to exercise--Matthew 26:33).  I admit I am at a loss for how to understand it all.  I am convinced of this much, though: that love requires free-will.  I cannot prove it, but I suspect that the reason God made a forbidden fruit in the midst of the creation He deemed "very good" is so that man would have a truly free choice.  He knew that man's love and trust would only be meaningful if man was equally capable of doubting and rejecting Him. That's a new thought for me: that God created and delighted over a world balanced, as it were, on the edge of a knife--a world where Heavenly paradise and Hellish torment were both equally possible, a world where, at any moment, man was capable of making the one choice that would usher in all the hurt, death, sin, and ruin that we have experienced since the Fall.

That is profound, but what I need to understand is more than that.  I need to realize that this is still the way God likes it.  God did not create me as puppet, and He did not redeem me to be one either.  He doesn't love puppets 'cause they can't love Him.  Where this becomes difficult to accept is in the area of personal holiness. There are several persistent sins, one in particular, that I am always frustrated with.  I realize that what's at fault is my own sinful choices, made by my free-will, so I have more than once wished that God would just strip me of my free-will in these areas.  Then, I would never sin like that again, I'd tell myself.  And, gee, won't it be great when I get to Heaven and won't be capable of sinning at all!  You may laugh.  In fact, you probably should: it is a healthy response to foolishness.  Needless to say, God never took my free-will and never will!  I realized that He wouldn't, so I made my aim the next best thing: the elusive one-time instant fix.  My prayer, it seems, was Lord, if it has to be my choice not to sin, then at least make it an once-for-all kind of choice.  Otherwise, it's only a matter of time before I screw up.  It's like J.R.R. Tolkien's one ring: if Isildur had just thrown the evil ring into the lava 500 years ago, Frodo wouldn't have to deal with it whispering the Black Speech of Mordor in his pocket.  I wanted to find a way to throw my own capacity for evil into some Mount Doom so I wouldn't have to worry about it whispering in my pocket all the time.  I tried several ways, and was considering yet more but was continually frustrated that they didn't work.  No matter how I tried to "cure" myself or be "cured," I never developed immunity to the disease.  This has been one of the major themes of my spiritual life thus far, I am ashamed to admit.

This week's study pointed out the folly of the one-time-fix for personal holiness.  In it, Jay Adams says, "You may have sought and tried to obtain instant godliness.  There is no such thing...We want somebody to give us three easy steps to godliness, and we'll take them next Friday and be godly.  The trouble is, godliness doesn't come that way."  The trouble is, love is a choice.  It's not just a once-for-all kind of choice, but a consistent choice which must be repeated minute by minute: a discipline.  If it were anything else, it would be meaningless.

This isn't what I wanted to learn from God this week (I wanted to learn an instant cure), but it is what I needed to learn.  I still believe in predestination and fate (as a self-proclaimed "romantic," I don't think it can be love if there's not some element of fate, haha!), but I now begin to understand that love is also a decision.  More, it is a discipline.  Discipline is hard.  In practicing discipline, I will fail more times than I'd like to think about.  In failing, I will commit more evil and hurt God and people more than I could bear if I could see it now. But this is necessary, for if I were not capable of failing, I would not be capable of truly succeeding.  If I were not capable of doing evil and causing pain, I would not be capable of doing righteously and bringing joy.  It is not a safe adventure He invites me into, but it is all the more worthwhile for its dangers.

The World to Conquer

Today, I talked to Tony (and his partner Buddy), the "Jehovah's Witness" (I use quotation marks because, although the members of this cult claim to be witnesses of YHWH, the God of the Bible, they are false witnesses as they distort the plain truth of the Bible and impose false doctrines of man, dishonoring Him).  We talked about what happens when we die, which is a big issue for JWs, who deny that man has an immortal soul and vigorously resist the truth of the existence of Hell (good JWs, they say, will be recreated by god on a perfect earth later).  Since the Watchtower (the organization in charge of the cult) can't escape the fact that the word "soul" is evidently in the Bible, they have gone back to the Hebrew and Greek in an attempt to redefine it.  In the Hebrew nephesh, which is properly translated soul in many places can also mean creature (Genesis 1:21 "And God created great whales, and every living nephesh that moveth..."), it can also refer (as can the English word soul) to (1) the immaterial part of a person which persists after death distinct from the body (Genesis 35:18 "and it came to pass, as her soul [nephesh] was departing (for she died)..."), (2) the "inner man" (2 Kings 4:27 "Let her alone, for her soul [nephesh] is vexed within her..."), (3) the seat of emotions and passions (Psalm 86:4 "Rejoice the soul [nephesh] of thy servant..."), and the person as a whole (Genesis 14:21 "Give me the persons [nephesh] and keep the goods thyself.").  The Watchtower has deceitfully takes the first definition (creature) and the last (whole person) and claims that those are the only things that the word soul can mean in the Bible.  Tony started our talk my saying it was important for us to first have a Biblical definition for soul and that the only way to do that was to examine the way it was used in the Bible.  He went through some classic Watchtower verses showing only their chosen definitions in play.  I warned against limiting the word to this,  that it might mean creature, person, and the immaterial part of a person that persists after death.  I showed him an example of it being used differently (as the seat of emotions, I was building up to other definitions, but was cut off), but he interrupted saying that he could not see how in the Bible soul could mean both living being (creature or person) and the immaterial part of a person that survives after death (so now his perceptions determine what the word must mean, rather than how it's used in the Bible?).  I went to Matthew 10:28, which reads, in part: "do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."  True, this is Greek, not Hebrew in the New Testament, but the word for soul in Greek, psyche, has all the same meanings as nephesh.

Well, there it was in black and white, staring at us: Jesus was telling people that the soul could survive someone killing the body--which the Watchtower absolutely denies.  How did Buddy and Tony react?  They dismissed the verse with an explanation that of course Jesus only meant that no man can deny us the hope of resurrection/recreation.  The soul, they maintained--with the verse right in front of their face--is always killed when the body dies.  Did they think Jesus was lying then?  Did they think hope for the resurrection was another definition of soul?  They denied both: Jesus always told the truth and soul only always means something that dies with the body, making their position logically impossible.  Then they rushed off to another verse and the discussion deteriorated into further frustrating stupidity from there.

By the time they had to go and I walked back to the dorm, I was about ready to scream.  How could a man be so blinded and deceived so as not to see the plain words on a page?  I settled into my chair and tried to cool off.  About that time, the guy next door came back, talking on his cell phone to a friend.  I could hear him through the wall, struggling with what advice to give to his friend.  From the snatches I overheard, I gathered that he was trying to advise his friend about his friend's girlfriend getting an abortion (in his mind, it came down to her choice, "because it's her body"--ignoring the fact that the most affected body in the procedure does not belong to the woman: the fetus/baby is a separate entity with a unique complete human genome).  I was about ready to scream again and took a walk so I could do just that if I chose.  What kind of a world do we live in?  Why is it that a man can be so blind to the truth that he cannot recognize it in black and white on the page before him?  Why is it that two men consider cutting a pregnant woman open and ripping her child from her womb, killing it, a legitimate option--and can discuss it as if it were little more than getting a nose piercing or tattoo?  Why is it that we live in a world were guys getting their girlfriend's pregnant is considered normal?  What kind of a messed up world is this anyway?  Evil is so prevalent and so strong.  "Why?" I asked.

Then, I considered God, and the heroes of stories.  In stories there is a reason why dragons are huge, evil, clever, and powerful--and there is a reason why heroes will go out of their way (or else be dragged out of their way by fate) to face the meanest and most ferocious dragons of them all.  The reason is simple: the greater the dragon, the greater the hero is proven to be when he defeats it.  So then God also allows great evil to exist in the world.  He allows it to spread, to grow, to show it's full power of depravity and darkness in the world.  He does all this in order that He might battle it and defeat it in the end, thus proving two things.  The first is the greatness of His majesty, power, and goodness (as with Pharaoh in Exodus 7:3-4).  The second, which is also a part of the first, is His great love for us, whom He rescues from all our ills (Isaiah 27:2-4).  Then let us remember to glorify God when we see the evil in the world He vows to conquer!

The Only Thing That Matters

So, I was at Eikon (a special worship assembly at Faith Evangelical Free Church, all the Navs went to it this weekend instead of having NavNight), enjoying the worship songs and singing along, but I felt somewhat out of place.  My mind was elsewhere, for one, which was wrong.  I was distracted by recent happenings (silly ones, let me warn you).  I'd been playing an online strategy game called Astro Empires.  It's a persistent, real-time strategy game where you own a colony on a planet and build ships to go out and conquer the universe by building other ships, etc.  Well, anyway, in the game you can only see what's going on in your own region.  To see what the neighbors are up to, or even who the neighbors are, you have to build a ship and fly it over into their region.  The problem is, you can't see anything about the planets of those regions (excepting where they are) until you land your ship on them.  You cannot see, for instance, that the planet you've chosen to land your brand new scout ship on has a small battle fleet sitting on it--and they look like they want to eat your scout!  That's what happened to me, basically.  I was sending a scout (I was actually using a corvette, not a scout ship, per se--it's a little slower, but cheaper, better armed, and unlocked sooner in the game) to a neighboring region and when it landed on the planet, I found that a frigate with a full compliment of fighters was already there.  I panicked and quickly moved the corvette, lest it get eaten, and then took a quick look around the region before running away.  The quick look compounded the fright of coming out on top of a frigate when I saw that the player who dominated this region had a fleet he'd named "Colony Fleet."  I assumed this meant he had a fleet sitting around, with which he could colonize other worlds.  This boded ill for me, because I had my heart set on a rare and valuable little moon right next door to his region.  I couldn't yet claim it, because I hadn't unlocked my own colony ships, nor did I have the resources to build them.  But if he had a fleet of colony ships just sitting around and he spotted this moon, surely he would pounce on it and claim it long before I could get my colonization program off the ground!

Anyway, thus were the thoughts that distracted me, thoughts of my corvette's close call, and frantic plans to put together a colony ship ASAP so I could claim that precious moon.  Irrelevant thoughts, I know.  But God used them to make a relevant point.  From thinking about how precious that moon was and what I was willing to do to secure it, my mind went to thinking of what Jesus had been willing to do to secure me.  I chided myself for thinking of such foolish things as a game while I should be remembering what Christ had done for me.  "The only thing matters," I told myself, "is that Jesus loves you."  I then thought of all the things I should be doing, in light of that.  I should be concentrating on worship instead of on a game, of course.  I should be a more holy person.  I shouldn't allow myself to fall into habitual sins.  I thought of a whole laundry list of things I should do, but had failed to do--or just plain failed at.  I felt ashamed--a failure, a sinner, unworthy of the love I was shown.  But God reminded me of how He had forgiven all my sins, shames, failures, and unworthinesses--the whole list of things I've done wrong and failed to do right--, putting them away forever by the blood of His Son (Colossians 2:13-14).  The only thing that matters is that He loves me, and I love Him.  Oh for grace to love Him more!

The Image of Holiness

So these are some thoughts I had while John Meyer was preaching on Genesis a couple weeks ago, and afterwards while doing my study with the Navigators on the first few chapters of Jerry Bridge's The Pursuit of Holiness.  I really wanted to journal them, so I could see what they were, and then as I said my blog is a public journal, so the rest is history.

First of all, John made some really good points about how we as humans are special creatures.  Two points particularly affected me.  The first was that we are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-27).  This isn't a new idea to me, really, but it is one that I've struggled to understand.  What exactly does it mean that we're made in God's image?  I often picture it like a mirror: we are not God, but God made us to reflect something of Himself--His character, His nature.  Then, John made a second point by comparing the commands God used to create things.  He when He made fish, He said, "Let the waters bring forth [fish]" (Genesis 1:20).  When He made animals, He said, "Let the earth bring forth [animals]" (Genesis 1:24).  But when God created man, He said, "Let us make man" (Genesis 1:26).  This is significant to me.  Although animals and fish are alive, ultimately they belong to the earth.  They came from it, consist of it, and will return to it.  But humankind is different.  Though our bodies are composed of dust, our souls come forth from God, consist in Him (Acts 17:28), and return to Him--whether for welcome or condemnation (Ecclesiastes 12:7).  Thus, we are more than a simple mirror.  We are the likenesses and ambassadors of God--made by Him of His own power, love, and ingenuity (and probably no small part of His sense of humor, too :) --built into Creation to represent and resemble Him.

The second thing, then, should have come as no surprise.  It was this, that God calls us to be holy.  This was one of the main points of the Jerry Bridges study.  Again, this was nothing new to me.  I knew that God demanded perfect holiness and could stand nothing less.  Sometimes I wondered why, but never really understood.  He was good enough to explain Himself in the Bible, in various ways, among them Leviticus 19:2 and 1 Peter 1:14-16: which say "Be ye holy, for I am holy."  Still, I didn't get it.  Why was God so keen on having us be like Himself?  Then, I put two and two together: God wants us to be holy because He's holy, our being holy is meant to reflect His own holiness--and He wants us to reflect this aspect of His character and nature because that is our primary purpose, our designated function from creation.  God designed us to operate as images of His own self, and is naturally concerned that we live holy lives.  Not only is that our designed function, but also it is His image and character that we represent--consciously or unconsciously, accurately or slanderously.  He also is in love with us.  Truly, He has quite a stake in the venture of our personal holiness!

How greatly we disappoint Him!  We have each of us fallen short of His glory--His holiness--and fallen short drastically (Romans 3:23 and 3:10-18).  We sin daily, in ways big and small, too numerous to count.  It is not only the obvious sins (greed, envy, murder, hatred, lust, etc) that count against us, but even more subtle sins--whatever fails to accurately reflect and represent the holiness of God Himself, whose image we are made to be.  How marred His image is in us!  God cannot abide sin and unholiness in us, not simply because of His distaste for all things evil, but because the slightest sin in us is a slander against His character.  We were meant to be His ambassadors in the world, our every action, thought, and feeling representing Him.  When we sin, we slander Him.  We are essentially telling the world: "See, this is what God is like: God is a liar," or "God is greedy and uncharitable," or "God is lustful," or "God is proud and scornful."  How can God, whose actual character is holy above all reproach--who dwells in unapproachable light (1 Timothy 6:15-16)--stand to have His character so maligned?  We have marred His masterwork, ourselves, and in the process mocked and spat upon the face of Him whose shoes we are not worthy to remove (John 1:27, spoken by John the Baptist, whom of whom Christ said, "Among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John"--Matthew 11:11).  God cannot allow such sins to go unpunished.  He cannot allow such vile effigies of His holy character to survive.  In His holy justice, He must destroy us all with hellfire.

But God has a problem.  For reasons only He can understand, He has fallen in love with us.  Yes, we're vile and despicable in our sins, but His heart is compassionate and--perhaps--He sees beyond the vile things we are and sees what beings He can make us into.  Whatever the cause, scripture is clear on the fact of God's love for us even while we were sinners, and its astounding magnitude (Romans 5:8).  Our faults are incurable and our just fate is inevitable, but with God nothing is impossible (Matthew 19:26).  Moved by His great love, the Father sent the Son, fully God, to take on the role of a man.  Where we had been misrepresenting God in so many horrible ways, God Himself stepped onto the stage and became His own representative, His own image (Colossians 1:15).  To say the least, He was a natural.  He showed us how it was done, and truly He was the only one who could.  No one could teach fallen man how to live as the image of God except God Himself, living as His own image.  Jesus fully and perfectly fulfilled the original design for man, and then, He showed us something new.  He showed us His love for us by the most graphic public display of affection in the history of the world (remember Romans 5:8?).  He gave Himself up to be scourged, beaten, mocked, and crucified--dying the most torturous death mankind has ever devised.  In so doing, He took the full measure of the just wrath of God.  All the punishment that God had been reserving for us, who defiled His image in the world, He poured out on His Son--the only one who had perfectly displayed His image.  Instead of smashing all the disfigured statues of Himself, He smashed the one perfect representation.  When He looks on us now--who put our faith in this--, that's what He sees: He sees His Son, the image of perfect holiness, giving His life for ours (2 Corinthians 5:21).

But God (that's one of my favorite phrases, have you noticed?) isn't satisfied with that.  It isn't enough for Him to leave us as distorted images of His holiness, reconciled to Him through a perfect sacrifice.  He wants us to be what we were meant to be.  He wants us to be like His Son.  So he still commands us: "Be holy for I am holy" (1 Peter 1:16).  We still sin, we can't seem to help it, but God has not left us helpless in our sins.  He has given us His Spirit--fully divine--to mold us into the holy ones He wants us to be.  Truly, the Christian quest for personal holiness is vain without the Holy Spirit--for how can we learn to represent God in His perfect holiness unless He teaches us Himself (John 14:26)?

Well, I finally finished it!  It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but most of that was just not taking the time to write it up.  Thanks for reading!

To Walk with Him in White

The message to the church in Sardis is among the most condemning messages in the New Testament, and unfortunately one that is very applicable to popular Christianity in the West today.  In three brief verses (Revelation 3:1-3), Christ calls the Christians in Sardis to account for gross hypocrisy.  They claim Christianity and new life in Christ, but they evidently don't live it out.  They are living in the world, as if dead to Christ.  They are not watching for Him; they are not working for Him, they are simply too busy with other stuff.  These days, so many Christians in America and Europe are doing the same.  Though they claim the name of Christ, all that does is get them to church every Sunday.  They do not live new lives for Christ or have any passion for Him.  Instead, they have passion for everything in the world around them, which chokes out their life in Christ (if, indeed, they had any to start with).  This is why many churches in the west "have a reputation for being alive, but...are dead."

But these first three scathing verses do not describe all Christians in the West, nor did they describe all Christians in Sardis.  For He says in verse four:

"Yet you still have a few names in Sardis, people who have not soiled their garments, and they will walk with Me in white, for they are worthy."  -Revelation 3:4

This verse describes many Christians, and personal friends of mine, in the West.  These people have not soiled themselves with the stuff of the world: they are worthy of God and they will walk with Christ in white.  This does not mean that they are sinless or are not as sinful as the "dead" from verse 1.  No one is sinless (Romans 3:23, my memory verse most recently--yay! B-pack!) and God often uses the worst of people to be the best of Christians, in order to demonstrate that the greatness of Christianity is not the people who follow it but the Christ who saves and leads them (2 Corinthians 4:7).  However, such people are clensed from sin their faith in Christ, so that their garments are unsoiled (Isaiah 1:18).  The result is that Christ will be with them in a very special way: they will walk with Him in white.  The overtones of marriage in the verse are deliberate.  These people are a part of the Bride of Christ and will someday enjoy the most intimate relationship with Him that is possible, a relationship which is rudely prefigured here on earth by human marriage.  Yet even the best of marriage and the most wonderful of weddings will not hold a candle to the splendor of this union (1 Corinthians 2:9), which will take place at the end of time and last for all eternity.

I would do well to remember this more often about my friends, to better appreciate them and encourage them in their pursuit of God.  But I know that this verse also applies to myself, and this is just as challenging.  To be sure, the promise to walk with Him in white is one of the most wonderful promises in the Bible, if not the most wonderful.  But that's just the problem.  It's too wonderful.  I'm certain it's too good for me, that I'm not worthy, that God would never really give someone like me something so good as all of Himself.  To be perfectly frank, I am amazed He even keeps me around and I'm speachless that He actually has plans for my life, wonderful plans, too!  When we get to talk of heaven, and how it will actually be (as in beyond the cheezy images of clouds and harps and beyond the misconception that Heaven will be like a concert I can where I can sneak into the back row)--an incredibly intimate relationship, a marriage, with Christ--, that's when I get out of my comfort zone and tend to clock out mentally.  I know that Heaven is wonderful and the union I and every believer will experience there will be inexpressibly blissful, but I cannot possibly imagine that I deserve even my next breath, much less this.  I fear that to enter upon or even consider such a relationship is to be found counterfit because of my unworthiness and sin.

And yet, Christ counters this fear with this verse, ending by saying of all those who will walk with Him in white: "they are worthy."  That is why they will walk with Him in white.  That is why we will walk with Him in white.  Not because Christ is loose with His favor and lets any Tom, Dick, or Harry come in.  He isn't.  Yes, there is grace for even the greatest of sinners, and yes, it is available to all.  Yes, it is definately true that salvation is by grace, through faith, and not at all by human merit.  And yet, it is also true that when we reach Heaven, we will be worthy of it.  Indeed, Christ is so bold as to put it in the present tense: "they are worthy."  How, then is this possible?  The answer lies in the cross of Christ.  It is He who makes us worthy, because when He took our sins on Himself at Cavalry, He also gave us His perfect righteousness and worthiness (2 Corinthians 5:21).  This is not merely in God's eyes, or just in a spiritual sense.  For now, indeed, we feel unworthy and do unworthy things, but Christ also changes that, through the Holy Spirit working in us to conform us to the image of Christ.  Because of Christ, I have nothing to fear.  I must stop considering myself unworthy and rejecting His love, for He has made me worthy to receive it, by the price of His own blood.

Matthew 28:18-20 and First Post

So, this is my first blog entry.  That would explain why it's a little awkward, and why you can't seem to find any older posts!  Haha!  Anyway, by way of introduction, this blog is simply a public journal of my thoughts.  These may be, and probably are, pretty random at times, but I will try to keep them edifying to others and centered on Christ, who is the center of my life.

The title comes from a few different things.  It sounds cool and adventurous to me, for one.  But really what inspired it was Matthew 28:18-20:

And Jesus came and spake unto them saying, "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.  Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway even unto the end of the world."  Amen. [KJV]

This is most commonly known as the Great Commission--in other words, the verse that pastors turn to when they want to beat people over the head with the importance of evangelism! That's not to say that evangelism is unimportant, or that it's not a big part of this verse, but there is something more to it.  This passage is also a wonderful promise.  In the last verse, Christ promises that he will always be with us, as His disciples.

This promise means a lot to me.  First of all, it means that Christ, God Himself, is present with me when I need Him.  When I am desperate and have tried everything I can think of and then some, to no avail, Christ is with me.  When I call on Him for help, He's there.  And He's not just a comforting presence and a friend to empathize with me (though He does that as well): according to verse 18, He has all power in Heaven and Earth.  That's a lot of power!!!  The power to eternally condemn or eternally justify is His (John 5:22).  The power to still the sea and shake the mountains is His (Mark 4:39 and Psalm 114).  Also, the power to help me through every trial and temptation I face is His, and He will use that power to help me (1 Corinthians 10:13).  Knowing that has been and continues to be an immense help to me when I'm in distress.  Second, it means that Christ is present with me when I don't think I need Him.  When I'm not acknowledging Him or living life in conscious dependence on Him, my actions and my state of mind do not change the reality of His presence and our relationship.  I still need Him and He's still there for me (John 15:5).  This is something I need to work on acknowledging.  Third, it means that Christ is present with me when I really don't think I want Him to be.  When I'm tempted and I start to give way, I don't want Him to see.  I don't want to acknowledge that what I'm doing is wrong and that I am doing wrong of my own free will (because, of course, if I wanted to make the right decision, He's right there to help me).  I want to have my fun my way, even though I know that, in the end my way is not any fun at all.  His way is best and I need to acknowledge that and stop resisting Him and plunging myself into old sins (or new ones for that matter).  There is no secrecy with Him (Psalm 139:11-12).

But Jesus takes it one step further and personally tells us how He'll be with us, how long and where and under what circumstances.  He says, "to the end of the world."  That means several things.  First, it means the end of this present world, the time when the world is judged and destroyed--and remade by God as a place where we, His saints, can enjoy Him for all eternity (Revelation 21:1).  This is how most versions translate the phrase.  It can also mean the ends of the earth, the remotest place we can imagine.  Even when we are isolated from all that's familiar and feel (or actually are) a hundred miles away from any form of comfort, God is with us, and He is able to comfort and help us even there (Psalm 139:9-10)--though "there" may be the glaciers of Antarctica or the jungles of Indonesia or a prison cell in North Korea, God is there.  Finally, "the end of the world" can mean, especially today a traumatic time or event, such as: "When Romeo saw Juliet playing dead in the crypt, it was the end of the world for him."  Let's face it, life is stressful, even if you're not a character in a Shakespeare play.  Sometimes, it feels like you've got a planet or two weighing you down and a sharp sword (or other form of doom) hanging over your head suspended by a single thread.  A paper is due, that big exam is tomorrow, the rent isn't paid, you're sick, or you've just come to a major crossroads in your life (and you can't seem to read any of the signposts).  Whatever crisis is making this seem like the end of the world for you, Jesus is with you, and He will not leave you, and He has the power to help you through whatever it is (Philippians 4:13).

Finally, to return to the Great Commission, Christ is not with us just for kicks.  God does not hang out with us just because we are that cool (if we think we are, we need to have our ego deflated before it gets us airborne).  True, God, through Christ, has given us the right to be Children of God and actually have His righteousness as saints (John 1:12 and 2 Corinthians 5:21)--which is more than that cool, it's incredible!  Yet this is not by our merit but by His grace (Ephesians 2:8-9).  Nor does God remain with us to give us warm fuzzy feelings and help us out with all our pet projects.  God actually has a mission and a purpose and a vision for all His time with us, which is far bigger than ourselves.  He is with us so that we can complete a mission, the teaching and conversion of all nations, so that all people everywhere may experience the grace of God and intimacy with Him which we now enjoy and will enjoy for all eternity.  God is empowering us to evangelize the nations with our lives and with our words.

Well, it's late, folks, and I have gone on for a while.  I pray God used something in there to encourage you with His presence!

With Him,
-Aaron