Verse of the...now

28And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

—Romans 8:28

I was at a chapel service a few weeks ago and later at a Sunday service where they played the song, ‘Your Love Never Fails.’ It’s a good song. The chorus, or bridge (can’t remember which), repeatedly says, ‘You make all things work together for my good,’ immediately conjuring the above verse from Paul’s epistle to the church in Rome. You’ve probably heard/read it before—it’s a Christian classic.

What makes it so? Well, it’s a likeable verse. It involves God’s orchestration of our lives, it references ‘good,’ which is nice, and it appears to give us hope that God will ensure even the harshest of life’s perils somehow become the source of its greatest bliss. What’s not to like? Our good in this life is appealing. Perhaps in part that’s why voices get louder at this juncture of the song—it’s hard not to get excited about the prospects of our prosperity.

But there’s a slight problem here, one that could diminish our unabashed appreciation of the song, and the verse for that matter. It lies in Paul’s definition of ‘good.’ The best way to put it is to put it bluntly: Paul is not referring to our good in the way we would naturally think of it. We read about our ‘good’ and immediately picture getting a raise at work, birthing a healthy child, being applauded for our contribution, finding out the tumor is benign, or maybe just catching a lucky break amidst otherwise dire circumstances. By default we think safety, health, happiness, comfort. We think of the tangible, the material, the temporary. Paul, however, had his mind more appropriately aligned. He was thinking of weightier things. For him, eternity was in full view. If we read verse 28 in the broader context of chapter 8, this is plain. Check out verse 18 and 35—sobering bookends to the oft-quoted and misinterpreted ‘classic.’


18For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.

35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36As it is written,

"For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered."



Suffering? Distress? Danger? Sheep to the slaughter? Hardly what we’d define as acceptable, let alone good. One may argue neither would Paul. But are we sure about that? The Apostle, remember, lived a very different life than most. In some ways, like Jesus, he was well acquainted with grief. And for him, the grander purpose of faith refinement through life’s harshest blows easily trumped their momentary pain. Again, what we generally see as undesirable, to be avoided at all costs, Paul embraced as opportunity. The shipwrecks and scourgings, then, were 'good'—even calls for praise that he was considered worthy of suffering for the gospel.

Was Paul crazy? Or are we? (Let that one marinate!)

There’s no doubt in my mind God makes all things work together for our good. None whatsoever. But ‘good’ just means something a little (a lot?!) different. God is intent on working out our spiritual kinks. As its Author, He desires to perfect our faith, to prepare us for eternal glory and to perfectly place even the pointiest thorns in our side for His. Make no mistake, He uses life on this side of heaven, with all its evils and discomforts and despairs to bolster our belief while glorifying His Name.

My point in touching on this is not to say, ‘Suck it up—the pain you feel shouldn’t hurt.’ Not at all. Life on the anvil does hurt. Sometimes a great deal. No, my point is to call us to a Pauline perspective, where suffering is seen in the context in which God Himself sees it…where He is working all things together for our truest good.

It can be difficult to grasp: Perceive pain and peril as a means to a greater and worthier end, even to the point of questioning the true goodness of what we immediately deem as ‘good.’ But God loves us more deeply than we can comprehend, necessarily in ways we can’t (and won’t) fully understand.

And that, my friends, is a truly good thing. Even great.



Grace to you, to embrace the good of the working together of all things, painful as it can be,

Voice of another

Verse of the...whatever :)

‘Know that the LORD is God…’ —Psalm 100:3a

Not long ago my thinking went something like this: to know God is to love Him; and partly why our love for Him lacks fervor is because our knowledge of Him lacks depth. The Church, then, ought to teach as much as it preaches, and Christians ought to give themselves to the study of God. Knowledge would grow and, correspondingly, love would intensify. Simple enough, right? Conceptually, this isn’t entirely flawed, just not as precise as it could be.

Knowing God does not necessitate loving Him. The head does not necessarily oblige the heart. Exhibit A? Satan and his demons. Note their response to the Son of God’s teaching in a Capernaum synagogue:

‘What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!’ —Mark 1:24 (italics mine)

They knew Him well, in some ways better than we do. Yet they loved Him not. There is more to the equation. Knowledge of, does not, on its own, equal love of. The head cannot, no matter its expertise, compel action. Something else must be engaged.

A quick example: I know in my head that doing right and living righteously brings life and spiritual health and wholeness, and lasting satisfaction. I know this. But I do not often do this. I do, however, often exchange the truth for a lie, even though I know the truth. So what’s missing?

Here’s the more complete equation:

Knowledge of God + Belief (faith) in Him = Love of God

Belief is the key. It is the ingredient that brings it all together. And that’s why Jesus was so adamant to emphasize it, again and again.

‘Daughter, your faith has made you well…’

“Jesus answered them, ‘Have faith in God…’”

“He said to them, ‘Where is your faith?’”

‘Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.’

‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’

“When He saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven.’”

Simply, Spirit-led belief in God, in His goodness, His provision, His providence, His plan—this is what begets love, what swells the affections of the heart. And it’s what distinguishes us from demons.

Don’t get me wrong, knowledge is good; it points to the Truth. But it’s exactly at that point that the head becomes futile if not for the heart. It is the heart that acts next, to either engage in the Love Affair of all love affairs, changing it for the better for ever, or to turn away from that alone which can save.

Knowledge of God is the road. Belief (faith) in Him is the rubber. And where the two meet with great friction and fury—this is action spurred by incomparable love.

May our knowledge of Him strengthen our faith in Him, that our love for Him would well up in true, spirit-filled worship.



Grace to you, to know Him, yes, but to believe in Him, and then love Him,

Voice of another

Verse of the...Month

'These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.' —John 16:33

Great song, huh? I thought it was strikingly honest, sadly dissimilar to what’s commonly confessed within church building walls.

Sometimes every one of us feels like we’ll never be healed


Sometimes every one of us aches like we’ll never be saved


Sometimes

It almost feels dirty to admit, but it’s true: there are times when the teeth of despair sink in to a depth where we wonder, where victory or healing or even salvation comes into question. Why? Because we too often look at life through a tainted lens. And because the world holds that much sway over our hearts.

But Jesus overcame the world, right? That’s what the verse says. Read it again. Slowly. We can have peace in Jesus, though the world puts us through the ringer.

Two thoughts surface. One, Jesus is clear: ‘In the world you have tribulation.’ Not that we may encounter it. Not even that there’s a strong chance we’ll meet it some night in a dark alley. We WILL have tribulation. No doubt about it. And in case there’s any ambiguity, note the synonyms: misfortune, trials, suffering, pain, ordeals, distress, difficulty, trouble, problems, hardship, even misery. Yuck. Ouch. But this is one of our many flaws—we approach life thinking we could elude it; we may outmaneuver it. Instead, we should expect it, we should wait for it, brace for it, know it’s just around the corner. And we should ready our response. We should ready a God-exalting response.

Jesus thinks that means ‘taking heart,’ or ‘taking courage.’ Basically, He exhorts us to put our trust in Him, in the face of all else. And this is the second thought. Jesus has overcome the world. He has defeated death, and if He’s done that, mere tribulation loses its ferocity, does it not? Peace, then, and rest for weary souls beaten down by worldly blows, is found in Christ alone. But here’s the key to the whole ‘taking heart (courage)’ endeavor: Jesus. If we’re not taking heart in HIM, we’ll find no courage. Our prayer, then, morphs from:

‘Jesus, take this or that away from me; help me escape these trials, please make them go away.’

To:

‘Jesus, be near to me. Draw me near to You. Be with me through this storm. As the wind picks up and the rain beats down, cover me, my Refuge, my Strength, my Deliverer.’

There’s a difference. With the first there’s a good chance the hardship will remain and peace (and proper, God-honoring perspective) will be far off. With the second, there’s a good chance the hardship will remain and Peace we will know, and know intimately.

The David Crowder song refers to the love of God as a sea without a shore. It’s that vast. That deep. Check out the bridge:

And risk the ocean, there’s only grace


Let’s risk the ocean, there’s only grace


Let’s risk the ocean, there’s only grace


Let’s risk the ocean, there’s only grace

Take courage when life deals you injustice, hardship, pain. Take to the ocean. And find the One who overcame every last thing the world could throw your way.


Grace to you, to both expect and endure calamity, by anchoring your soul in Him alone,

Voice of another

Verse of the...Year?

12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. 13 Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
--Hebrews 4:12-13



The Truth of God is both dagger and scalpel—it penetrates to our core, judging our thoughts and the attitudes of our heart, but also, by God’s grace, it slices away with surgical precision the calluses so prone to grow within.

I was driving home from work the other day and saw on someone’s bumper a sticker that said ‘Coexist.’ It wasn’t the first time that particular bumper sticker stuck out to me. Nor was it the first time it sparked a string of thoughts in my head—namely, What does that really mean? What’s the message it’s sending? I believe it’s saying we ought to accept the views of every religion, that we should embrace their differences, stark as they may be. It’s the theme of our day, right? You believe what you will, and base your attitudes and behaviors on whatever standard you see fit; and I’ll do the same. And we’ll all be brothers and sisters in one great big family of relativism. The problem is, that flies in the face of the nature of truth (Truth). If A equals B, and B does not equal C, then A cannot equal C, no matter how badly we want it to. God is Truth, and as such, He’s perfectly non-contradictory. He created the universe in an orderly fashion, with cohesive governing laws. And He paved the road to salvation with a ‘One Way’ sign --> Jesus.

The Gospel of John declares that God sent Jesus into the world not to condemn it, but to save it through Him. Then, just 6 chapters later, Jesus says, in apparent incongruity, ‘For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who ‘see’ will become blind.’ (John 9:39). Which is it? Did He come to save the world or judge it? The answer is both. And make no mistake, there is absolutely no contradiction.

The divisive nature of truth, of the person of Jesus, is becoming more and more recognizable as I read Scripture. Jesus came to save, but in doing so the necessary judgment of truth came with Him. His message was clear: Follow His way, the way that leads to life, and turn away from God-defaming, self-destructing sin. Wherever He went, whatever He said caused people to love Him or want to kill Him; there were few, in any, He left indifferent.

Pray that God gives you sight to see this beautiful reality. The world was a ball of confusion prior to the entrance of Light. But the Light broke into darkness, exposing the true motives of men’s hearts. Jesus came to save those who would accept His gift of faith in His blood, but in doing so He indirectly judged those who replied, ‘No thanks.’

So, back to the bumper. ‘Coexist’? No way. The embracing of truth (Truth) doesn’t allow it. Loving my unbelieving neighbor as myself? Now I can get on board with that.

Grace to you, to see and savor Truth,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

(Photo courtesy of the Associated Press)

I literally just finished watching the Stanford Cardinal’s decisive dismantling of Virginia Tech in the Orange Bowl. And it was unlike anything I’d ever seen in sports. No lie. Being an avid fan, sure I’ve watched proverbial beat-downs. Certainly I’ve seen great play from individual athletes and teams alike. But never have I witnessed anything like Monday night’s poignant display of precision, trust and camaraderie in Miami. It left me speechless. Well, almost.

I went to bed with visions of blitzing linebackers and touchdown-scoring tight ends dancing in my head. And I couldn’t erase the images of what I’d beheld. It wasn’t just another football game. Not in the least. It was a metaphor. A metaphor of how it’s all supposed to be, how the Christian life should be characterized but so often isn’t. At the expense of being a tad melodramatic—it was inspiring. So I had to get up and write it down.

Briefly, here’s what I saw (with our take-aways in parentheses):

--Respect for the game (respect life; to be able to live at all is an honor)

You could tell Stanford’s coach, Jim Harbaugh, made sure it was engrained in every player on his 107-man roster. These young adult men emanated respect and class. They were obviously thrilled even to have the opportunity to play. Are you honored to be breathing?

--Love for the Cardinal name, above that for the one on the back of the jersey (love Him over yourself, with all your heart, soul, mind and strength…this is foundational)

At the root of all the Stanford players did was a genuine love for their school. It, too, was readily apparent.  They played their butts off, they left it all on the field—all the sports clichés were justified. And they did it for the Stanford name. Do you love His Name? A better question: is the love of His Name at the root of all you do?

--Sound preparation (know God’s playbook for Christian living, and know it really well)

Almost every player interviewed after the game referenced the weeks of preparation leading up to the contest. They had put in the time and made the effort to ensure they were completely ready. Are you prepared to engage a ruthless adversary? Gotta know the Word, and wield that Sword.

--Trust in the game plan…especially in adversity (have faith in His perfect will…it will be done!)

Despite some hiccups in the first half, the Cardinal maintained focus, didn’t panic and, ultimately, trusted their Coach’s game plan. And it paid off. God’s got the plan to win. It’s flawless. Trust it through thick and thin.

--Persistent pursuit (understand that this life is a marathon…and keep running until the end)

Stanford scored a barrage of points in a relatively short timeframe in the second half…but they didn’t let up. Not until the last second ticked off the clock. Like Paul implored, run in such a way as to get the prize. And don’t pull up until your chest breaks the tape.

--Precise execution (let the truth truly free you to live righteously)

The difference between a close opening 30 minutes and a dominating second half? Execution. Cardinal quarterback Andrew Luck made mention of this in his postgame remarks. The plan was in place. The schemes were sound. The plays were properly called. The routes were precise. So it was a matter of making the throws. Luck did. Time and again. There comes a point when you’ve just got to ‘make the throws’ and execute righteousness.

--Camaraderie within the team (the brotherhood of believers…at all personal cost, do you have your brother’s [sister’s] back?)

These guys would have died for each other. I honestly believe that. Maybe Harbaugh’s most impressive leadership success. Imagine if the Church operated like this. ‘You love Jesus? So do I!’ Can that be the ultimate tie that binds? It starts with two ropes...and one knot at a time.

--Take in the approving looks of onlookers…not for personal glory, but for needed encouragement (embrace the support of the saints, the cloud of witnesses that have gone before you)

Stanford alum lined the sideline—from Cardinal football program legends John Elway and Jim Plunkett, to former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. They only thing they exuded more than class was sincere support. The Christian has faithful witness after faithful witness to whom to look. Look! And be encouraged. They were merely flawed, yet Spirit-filled humans, just like you.

--Follow your leader, no matter what (follow the Leader, no matter what)

The Cardinal players would have followed Coach Harbaugh on a long walk off a short plank. You could see it in their eyes. He had them inspired, in all the right ways (see the aforementioned examples). As set apart as Harbaugh is amongst football coaches (he’s the hottest commodity for countless college and professional coaching vacancies alike), there was, and IS, no leader like Jesus. Do you follow? Does He have your undying adherence?

--Take joy in the spoils of victory…go ahead, sink your teeth into one of those succulent oranges! (when you are more than a conqueror, take a second to savor that—it doesn’t happen all too often this side of heaven)

One of the most enjoyable sights of the night occurred on the postgame trophy presentation stage. One of the trophies had a bowl full of oranges set atop. Even in the supposed seriousness of the made-for-TV moment, Harbaugh let loose, smiling ear to ear while repeatedly tossing citrus fruit to his less-heralded players on the field below. You could tell the presenters were like, ‘Oh no, what is he doing?’ Then they realized how cool he was. And how cool that made the remainder of their presentation. To the victorious go the spoils. Life on this side of heaven can, and will, beat the Christian down. So when you, for once, hit it back, enjoy the victory. After all, you’re well aware Who enabled it.

Who knew watching the Jim Harbaugh-led Cardinal dominate a formidable adversary would be cause for such Christ-centered conclusions, right? Football fan or not, if you get the chance, watch the game tape of the 2011 Orange Bowl. It may just change your [Christian] life…to the glory of God the Father.

With that, at 2:30am I conclude my Jerry Maguire-like midnight ‘memo.’ It was a Mission Statement!

Grace to you, to be a true champion for Christ,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

The Visible Universe within 14 billion Light Years

http://www.atlasoftheuniverse.com/universe.html

As a Minnesota native and avid sports fan, it’s no wonder the Twins have a special place in my heart. They won two world championships during my childhood, once in 1987, when I was 8 years old, and another in 1991, when I was 12. I still remember running home from school with my best friend during certain autumn afternoons so we wouldn’t miss an at-bat of the Series. Well, much has changed since then. The Twins, though a perennial division contender, are notorious for making the playoffs, only to be immediately eliminated (usually a casualty of the seemingly invincible Yankees). So, the Twins’ marketing team has had to devise plans to get fans, and more importantly, keep them. One recent campaign that stood out emphasized the tagline, ‘Get to know ’em.’ The theory, I think, was to attract committed fans through increased exposure. They figured people would become more passionate (fanatical) as they became more knowledgeable. They were right. The more I watched these less heralded teams of the new millennium, the more invested I became. They weren’t that great, even good, but I knew the lineup, I knew the players, their tendencies, what made them tick. And I grew to love those teams.

So it is, or can be, with Jesus—if only we’d ‘Get to know Him.’

Over the next handful of entries I will seek to bring to the forefront some of the lesser known, or at least less mainstream, attributes of the Christ. Of course, in the hopes we’d become bigger fans.

Here goes.

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. –Hebrews 1:3 (ESV)

It’s probably safe to assume most understand that Jesus, the Son, actually created (John 1:3). The Gospel of John says, ‘In Him was life…’ (verse 4). This, then, is not only true spiritually, but physically as well. But here's where it gets really good. Because Jesus spoke, and the universe came to be, He has absolute governance over it…to the point that its very subsistence is directly dependent upon the power of His enduring word. Let that marinate for a minute. Jesus, with divine authority, created life—all that exists. And He has, to this point, upheld His creation; He (literally His word) is the Force that causes all to hold together and persist—from the broadest standpoint of the course of supernatural history (God’s will for evil to eternally perish and His children to be rescued through His lifeblood unto salvation) all the way down to the natural forces and principles that rule the minutest of atomic particles. If that weren’t enough, He will, again, by His word, continue to cause universal solidarity (in the physical and spiritual) until the End.

And we ever doubt His power? To my shame, I have…and do.

Jesus is the Lamb of God because He takes away the sins of the world, not because He’s weak. Don’t let the Sunday school flannel graphs fool. When it comes to strength, power, He is the Lion of Judah, uncontested in His reign. There is nothing that exists that is not subject to His authoritative command. Another way to put it: the power of His word holds continued dominion over that which it created (and creates…remember, it is the Holy Spirit, of Jesus Himself, that breathes spiritual life into the hearts of men).

This concept of Jesus’ supreme and sustaining word isn’t isolated. Paul’s letter to the Colossians reiterates the writer of Hebrews:

And He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. –Colossians 1:17 (ESV)

What, then, can we conclude? Of the many things, let’s focus on two.

First, there is great profundity that Jesus was the member of the Godhead whom created. He spoke, and it was. He speaks, and it is upheld. And He will speak, with unparalleled power, when He comes again, riding on the clouds of heaven. He gave life at the very Beginning, and then He gave His own to ransom our captive hearts. Does that hit you like it does me? The Potter was rejected, crucified at the hands of the clay. But not because He was at all impotent, and thus, subject to forces of evil or man. He was willing, simultaneously for the sake of His Name and our rescue.

And secondly, this same Jesus, the God who holds the entire expanse of the universe together by the divine decree of His lips, cares for you and me. Intimately. And so He will continue to uphold us physically and spiritually—until the work He began is completed. This, even when all seems to be falling apart.

But anyone can care, right? Jesus takes a step further—to a point no one else can come close. Not only do we know (and are getting to know better) the God who cares about us…we know the One supremely powerful to carry us to eternity in heaven.

Grace to you, to get to know Him better,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.’ –John 1:9 (NLT)


If you’re anything like me, you can’t help but notice themes. Themes of the grand things, and those of the utterly trivial—both are perceived and pondered, often without relent. Perhaps I’m one of a loony few. Nevertheless, Christmas is one of the most thematic times of the year. Think about it. Lights, food, music, movies, décor, the sweet smell of gingerbread and sugar cookies wafting from the oven, cartons of egg nog lining the refrigerated section of the grocery store (if not the stomachs of its dedicated drinkers), even a generally more pleasant and charitable public readily depict the season. In fact, one might argue that if the stage were set just right, Christmas could be replicated in June or July almost as believably as it occurs in December, minus the temperatures…and snow-covered streets, for you Midwesterners.

The point is, every year, without fail, a thread of lightheartedness runs through fabric of our society post-Thanksgiving through the New Year, and people are happier. But why (my daughter and I are alike—we have to ask!)? There’s got to be a reason why almost everyone, believer in Jesus as God or not, has an uplifted spirit during the holidays. My answer is this: people are happier because people are hopeful. The Christmas season brings hope, by its original nature and intent, but also by society's secular crafting. We’re hopeful for the gift(s) we’re craving, we’re hopeful for the reunion with loved ones the holidays can secure, we’re hopeful for things as trite as time off from work (be honest!), and, some of us more than others, are hopeful for the culinary delights that for whatever reason only emerge during this particular season!

This year, I’ve recognized another Christmas theme. It, too, has to do with hope—though its object is fundamentally dissimilar from the aforementioned. In critically listening to the music of the season, particularly those Christmas hymns of yesteryear, it’s apparent they were referencing the hope of rescue. And more narrowly, rescue from spiritual darkness. Christmas, then, according to many of these traditional tunes, is about the True Light that came into the world (and still comes, again and again, when we need Him now, by the way). It’s about the dawning of our rescue, the birth of our salvation, the coming of our King. This kind of hope can hit the heart in its deepest regions. The result when it does? Rejoicing. Part of our nature is to rejoice in hope (just ask Paul). But the rejoicing these carols convey is more than a passing mood or a simple cheerfulness over the trifling things that expire with current calendar year. It is, rather, a soulful praise which emerges from the depths, and with freely flowing tears, as you grasp the unconditional grace of His arrival, His Advent…for you, personally. And as the singularity of the hope His birth inspires comes into full view, you cannot find yourself anywhere but on your knees before the Him, right where the lowly shepherds and trio of nobles found themselves that night, 2,000 years ago.

Check it:

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer


Our spirits by Thine advent here


Disperse the gloomy clouds of night


And death's dark shadows put to flight.


Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel


Shall come to thee, O Israel


And again:

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices


For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn'


Fall on your knees, oh hear, the angels' voices


Oh, night divine, oh, night, when Christ was born


And again:

So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh


Come peasant, king to own Him


The King of kings salvation brings


Let loving hearts enthrone Him


This, this is Christ the King


Whom shepherds guard and angels sing


Haste, haste to bring Him laud


The Babe, the Son of Mary


And finally, though admittedly not a Christmas carol:

Here is our King


Here is our Love


Here is our God who's come to bring us back to Him


He is the one


He is Jesus


Immanuel, the ‘with us’ God, came to our rescue.

Light broke into the world that first Christmas eve, with great force and fury, to dispel the darkness that leads to death.

Let us enthrone Him in our hearts, then, and haste to bring Him laud, that His light within us would shine unto eternal life.

A merry and hope-filled Christmas to you and yours,

Voice of another