Blessing

In reflecting on where David Platt has taken me on the journey through Radical, my thought-they-were-already-enlightened eyes have been opened. What is sticking with me is: "The key is realizing - and believing - that this world is not your home." (p179)

I feel this fact often, as I collide with the fallenness of this world. I live this fact often, as my own fallenness leaks out through my pores and into my actions (and inaction). Yet my survival instinct gains the upper hand, and I build my little nest, made of the comforts available to me. The Lord is my refuge, as Psalm 91 proclaims and He provides solace in the midst of the world's brokenness and blessings sweet enough to tantalize our imaginations of heaven - but to what end?. 

His blessings are to give us strength to live out our created purpose. Instead of huddling in bubbles of escape from the harm suffered by others, He gives us His boldness to go to people that convention has abandoned. Instead of words of violence in defense of institutions whose founder needs none, He gives us His Word of truth, grace, and hope to speak in a world devoid of each. Instead of grasping hands clinging to this world's fading comforts, He gives us His healing hands to extend into a deeply wounded world.

Lord of the universe and of my life, I surrender it once again - not that You might bless me, but that You might use me to bless this world that needs You more than anything.

Response

People today don't (maybe never did) like to receive pointed personal convictions. When we're told what to do or not to do, our natural (fallen) reaction is defiance. This holds true for the people in the church at large, for people in our church, and for me specifically.

For some of us (myself especially), it goes deeper than that. We like our consciences to be "pricked" - even need them to be in a "good sermon" - but follow up with nothing but intellectual assent and good intentions. Books like Radical, by David Platt are great reading for those like us - until we get to chapter 9, that is. It leaves us with the question, "What are we actually going to do about it?" If we've been intellectually assenting throughout the book, the appropriate response is unfortunately all too clear.

If we believe what we've read, if we believe what God reveals in his Word, we will respond - either by action or inaction. The cycle of revelation and response is all  throughout the scripture. It is the story of God working in the lives of his people. It is how God wants to work in us, in me. But in order for him to be able to work in us, to transform us into Christ-like-ness, we must respond. In action.

So what will our response be? What will my response be?

Who Do I Think I Am?

To be honest, I'm not at all comfortable with the idea that a person who does not trust in Jesus Christ as their Lord ends up in hell, regardless of whether they heard about him or not. But that's what he said. I say I believe in him. Do I really believe him? When he says things that make me uncomfortable?

Maybe the real problem is what leaves me comfortable. I'm pretty comfortable living as if those around me, even those I care for, don't really need to hear or be enlightened and transformed by this Truth called Jesus... like I do. I'm comfortable living as if they don't really need to be guided through life's questions, pitfalls, and quagmires by this Way called Jesus... like I do. I'm comfortable living as if they don't really need to be reborn, restored, and renewed into this Life called Jesus... like I do. Who do I think I am?

Lord, You have blessed me beyond my comprehension: you forgave me, you redeemed me, you healed me, you restored me, you gave me hope of new and eternal life. And I am blessed to be a blessing. Lord, please change my heart to love more like yours, my arms to reach out more like yours, and my feet to follow after yours.

How Can I Help?

The problems of poverty, sickness, and injustice present a brokenness that is overwhelmingly widespread, intricately interwoven, and hopelessly complex. If and when we get a glimpse of the whole picture, it's very difficult for us to get ourselves out of the shock-induced paralysis that results, and out of the apathy of learned helplessness.

Maybe we should reconsider how God probably sees these problems. His omniscience is fully aware of the whole picture all of the time, but I suspect he approaches it differently.

First, God takes it personally. He sees not only the mass of billions barely getting by, but also counts the hairs on the head of each forgotten child. In today's culture of global communication, it is easier than ever to get involved an assistance programs at a personal level, whether it involves local service or the support of a special child around the world.

Second, God addresses it locally. God's plan to change the world started with 12 disciples making a different where they were, growing churches that were spread wide, but deeply rooted in their communities. Again, we have unprecedented opportunities today to partner with organizations that have a long-term, sustainable presence in the communities that they serve - whether they're down the street or in another hemisphere.

Third, I think God changes from the inside out. God sacrificed himself, so that we could be reconciled to Him - but that's only the beginning of the story of restoration and transformation that he wants to write on our lives. The rest depends on our own willingness to surrender our own misguided ways and follow His with hope and perseverance. In the same way, we should aid in ways that enable, give hope, and build up others to be deeply involved in their own restoration.

Giving All You've Got

One of the struggles in stewardship (maybe the biggest hurdle for most) is that it so often seems like an all-or-nothing proposition. Frankly, that situation is even exacerbated by a superficial reading of the story of the rich young man in Mark 10:17-31. A superficial reading would naturally lead us to conclude that unless we live the life of a possession-less missionary, we're not true followers of Christ. And that's a downer that is pretty difficult to get over.

It was only studying this passage just recently that I think I might be starting to get Jesus' point - and it's right in the middle, trying to get our full attention: “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” Whether its wealth, or possessions, or family (I'm reading God's command of Abraham to sacrifice Isaac in Genesis 22:1-18 differently now), or land that we're holding on to for our security, we're doomed. God want us to cling to and put our full faith in Him, the source of anything we could possibly need, not the blessings that He so richly gives us and the rest of the world.

God isn't asking us to give up what we need in order to be utterly barren. God is asking us to let go of what we think we need in order that He can fully bless us (to be a blessing) through our faith in Him.

In light of all this, the question I'm pondering is: "What am I holding onto that might be getting in God's way?"

Stuck On Myself

One thought that has stayed with me through the years is the idea that pride is not always self-elevating. My struggle is with the self-deprecating variety. It is most often evident in how I spend my time in prayer - I'm most often focused on myself: my brokenness, my need for God's transformation in my heart, my need to get my faith out of my head & mind and into my feet, hands, and mouth. These are good things. But all too often, I get no farther. I get "stuck" on myself.

This variety of pride doesn't really believe in God's all-surpassing sufficiency - in my life and in the world around me. This pride doesn't really believe in God's purpose and faithfulness to work in me as I move my life out of its comfortable box and in the direction of his nudging. This pride doesn't really believe that God's power is made perfect (and his glory shown) in my weakness, and that given history, I should expect his provision for me to do his work only after I get moving in his direction.

It's only in that posture of utter dependence that I should expect God to be able to fully bless me, and only for the purpose of being a blessing to others.

This (Super-)Natural Universe

In thinking about my absolute dependency on God's power, I often focus God as Creator. His power can be made very evident in relationships and in minor and major miracles, but our daily lives are much more affected by the world we live in. While among us we'll probably disagree about the exact mechanics of *how* God created it, bible-believing Christians all agree that he is the Source and Sustainer of this universe we inhabit. And in my better moments, I marvel at the almost literally incredible wonder of it; the natural seems to me supernatural.

I am physically a bundle of 64 billion billion billion sub-atomic particles, spinning around each other, bonding in groups, very precisely arranged, in such a way as to make a living breathing being that can move, think, dream, and act as a vessel of that intangible, immortal, supernatural thing we call a soul. Incredible.

Power

I don't know about you, but I don't want to come to the end of myself. The idea flies in the face of all conventional wisdom, and against every fiber of my self-protecting and loved-one-protecting nature. Yet, as David Platt puts it: "This is how God works. He puts his people in positions where they are desperate for his power, and then he shows his provision in says that display his greatness." He used God's defeat of Jericho through Joshua as a reference, and he didn't even mention the top-notch military training program God used a preparation: circumcision. Yeah, that sounds like great preparation for an attack on the enemy. God's ways are certainly not our ways - his power loves those who hate and dies to live.

Which leads me to question: Do I really want more of God's power in my life?

Or do I just want God to give me more power?