Cross Road

I feel like something’s going to happen soon. In my life. I’ve just about nailed the final nail into the coffin of my dream of higher education, which was always my backup plan, to be broken in case of emergency. It never seriously occurred to me that all my applications would be denied, but now that it’s happened I feel like I can finally lay it down. 

In a bizarre twist (or at least bizarre in any sense other than an omniscient, omnipotent God guiding my life), I had two separate confirmations of this feeling. My uncle came and worked on the basement of my house with me this week, the same day my top two choices rejected me. We had a long lunch and discussed the crossroads of life at which we both find ourselves, and he regaled me with tales of his own discovery of the passion of his life. Not God; that is his life, not his passion. His passion for Christian education came out of left field, and only after he had been rejected similarly from his ambitions, holy though he thought them to be. But it happened during his twenty-ninth year, the same age I am.

On Sunday, the pastor’s wife gave the message and talked about a crossroads in her life when she finally reached the point where she could say honestly, “Not my will but Yours be done” to the Father. It changed the trajectory of her life, and allowed God to give her the passion that would drive her forward into deeper walks with Him. She was around thirty years old.

This is significant because I’ve always struggled with my passion. I said the other day to a friend of mine who works as a software developer that I envied his knowledge of what he was, who he was. That is, what his job, his career, his vocation on earth is. Because that’s part of what defines us. We certainly must look first to our walk with the Lord for our sense of identity, but practically speaking we all must do something. And those who know what they were meant to do gain in that knowledge a sense of who they are. My uncle claimed to be a Christian school administrator: “I’m a leader! That’s who I am!” His gifts and talents are tied into his identity, and when God runs the show, He can harmonize everything into a beautiful symphony through which He can impact this world. 

That’s what this is all about. I don’t know who I am. In relation to this world, that is. I know I’m God’s son, His bondslave, His precious one. The desire of His heart, as wonderfully frightening as that is. But who I am on earth, what I was meant for…I’m still working on that. I don’t know. And once you know that, once that surety has rooted itself in your heart, you can pursue that wholeheartedly. 

Wholeheartedly. It’s a word thrown around without much meditation. To do something, to be something with your whole heart. That’s what appeals to me about characters like William Wallace in Braveheart. Nothing, but nothing was more important that his mission: to free Scotland from the evil English. Freedom from tyranny is an admirable goal, and the things humans can accomplish when they pursue something wholeheartedly can be remarkable. But imagine how much greater if our human nature was in tune with God’s will! The possibilities are literally endless, and we as humans can participate in God’s will while doing something that pops us out of bed each morning wildly enthusiastic about the day. 

It must begin with God, however. As Brenda said, I must come to the place where I let go and let God, give up and give in. And once the last school rejects me, that’s where I’m at. I looked in the mirror and said, “Well, God, I’m out of ideas.” Which was mostly true; I have ideas but they are pipe dreams, like being a professional golfer. But ideas, plans that I can produce on my own? Nope. I’ve failed at most things I’ve done in my life, and mostly because I’ve done them, not Him.

So God, help me. I’m ready to give up and give in. I’ve been saying this for a while now, ever since I discovered Ian Thomas’ sermons, but this affair with the doctorate programs was kind of my final crutch, and it’s been kicked away. I’m ready. I pray.

Foggy Thoughts

I stepped out into a world of white, soupy stillness, as if the very air was holding its breath. I love fog.

Fog to me speaks of mystery, adventure. I love the stories of Sherlock Holmes because of the mysteries and the clever ways that Holmes pierces the veil of crimes and clues to arrive at a solution. But I also love the descriptions of London at the turn of the century, of hansoms rattling through quiet streets, the clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages, and the foggy blanket Conan Doyle often describes London nestling under. Read “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T. S. Eliot for another wonderful depiction of fog, a yellow fog in that instance. 

Fog always gives me a thrill, for it bespeaks adventure and mystery. I feel like anything can happen on a foggy day. A bloody stranger can stagger up to the door and collapse with a cryptic message on their dying lips. A band of bandits can emerge and bushwhack lonesome travelers. Intrepid investigators can track a criminal through silent streets, each a shadowy threat to the other. No gun fire; fog is reserved for daggers or fists, or a chloroformed handkerchief. Anything can happen in fog.

So I enjoyed the drive to church today, as the world disappeared swiftly in my rearview mirror, and slowly parted to reveal only a half mile in front. I turned off the radio and listened for cryptic messages, wishing I could track a gang of bank robbers or embark on a dire quest. I yearned for adventure, mystery. 

And then I realized that life itself is rather mysterious. The future lays enshrouded in mist, inscrutable as the roads today. Who knows what will appear suddenly? Who knows who shall cross my path a year from now, or a month, or even a week? My quests might not hold the import of the Fellowship of the Ring, but what they sacrifice in romance they make up in realism. 

You might argue that, based on prior events, the future won’t be very exciting. Go to work, go home, veg in front of the tube, go to bed, rinse and repeat until the weekend, with an occasional evening activity thrown in. Certainly my life isn’t a thrill ride at the moment. But here’s where the new life in Christ comes in, because He’s got plans, jobs that need doing, and all He needs are hands and feet and voices and hearts. And we are afforded the wondrous opportunity to be those hands and feet, to speak in His name, to extend our hearts to others by His power and love. If we acknowledge Him in all our ways, He will direct our paths, as the Proverb teaches. 

Who knows where He will direct our path? Who know how He will accomplish His will? What if He puts you in a trying job for three years so that, after months of prayer and wondering, a co-worker asks you about Christ? Could you have predicted that three years of swallowing insults and mockery, of refusing to laugh at a vulgar jest, of remaining honest and true even to your own detriment, would be a brighter witness than the most persuasive speech on the cross and the empty tomb? What if He engineered that car accident and the subsequent injury solely so your physical therapist could see you rejoice in the midst of agonizing pain? What if the transfer away from your friends and church and family that you bridled at initially was used to lead to a ministry that you otherwise would never have known about?

How unsearchable are His ways beyond our understanding! Who has known the mind of the Lord? Well, our opportunity is for the Lord to make His mind known to us, if we let Him. And then, who knows what might happen?

---

After church I went out to lunch with some dear friends. As I navigated to the restaurant, I was struck anew by the severely diminished visibility that fog produces. It’s mysterious, yes, but also slightly perilous. Common sense advises you to slow down, peer closely at what lies ahead. On a clear day, the location of the restaurant in the shopping center would have been readily apparent. Even though I generally knew where it was, however, I was driving semi-blind. It suddenly materialized and I had to respond quickly to enter the correct turn-off. 

When your capacity to predict outcomes diminishes, you must be on alert. A lasses-faire attitude can produce catastrophic results, as the traffic accidents during the winter prove. Such is life, no? If we sleepwalk through our day, how much easier is it to be blindsided with disaster! The shock alone has devastating effects, sometimes greater than the actual results of the incident. The first time I was fired from a job came on a weekday, not Friday or Monday. In the early afternoon, I was called into the supervisor’s office and told I had been terminated. They accompanied me to my desk and escorted me to the elevator. No warning, no indication, just a 2x4 across the temple. I was emotionally winded, like I’d fallen down a mine shaft. I’d been lazing my way through the job, thoroughly unmotivated to excel, bored to the nth degree. I haven’t had a full time job since, almost three years now. 

The other effect of driving through the fog, like being dropped in a stormy sea, with waves obscuring your vision, is that you have to rely on something beyond your own abilities. Had I a GPS device, I could have followed its directions to the restaurant today, trusting that it would lead me safely and accurately to my destination. So my question is, In what or whom do you place your trust to guide you through the veil of confusion we blithely call Life? The answer should be obvious to believers, but I wonder how true it really is in our everyday lives. Do we rely on Him to guide us to work each day? To complete our tasks correctly and in timely fashion? To direct our interactions with friends, co-workers, beloveds, and the guy at the gas station?

Because I know I’m tempted to just turn to Him when the visibility dips below my range of vision. For simple things like running errands or looking for books in the library, I don’t involve Him because I don’t really need His intervention, do I? I mean, I’m a semi-functional adult, capable of balancing a checkbook (in theory), buying stamps at the post office, and sending emails to my sister Down Under without bugging Him, right? Why should the God of the universe be bothered with whether I should buy a book online or at a store?

But I don’t get to make the call on what things I need Jesus for and what things I don’t. First, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THINGS I DON’T NEED HIM FOR!! Right? If He is my life, then He is my ENTIRE life. Not just the spiritual parts of it, not just the relationships and the struggles with sin. He’s supposed to be in everything. Jesus, when He walked on earth, didn’t separate His ministry from His everyday life. Even when He was a kid, He thought deeply about the things of God, He walked with His Father. And He is the template, the example we are to emulate, remembering that we don’t emulate Him by our own strength and diligence, but emulate His complete dependence upon His Father, in all things. He alone can guide us through the fog, just like someone looking down upon a maze can guide someone in the maze to the center.

The fog, then, is our opportunity to recognize our plight, that we need to be en garde, our senses alert, recognizing the potential for danger and pitfalls, as well as acknowledging our complete and utter dependence upon His direction in our lives. 

Bet you didn’t know fog had so many applications, did you?

Advocate

I recently attended a faculty meeting at the college where I taught. The occasion for this meeting related to the recent restructuring of the administration of the General Education division under which the subjects I teach fall. We now answer to a new supervisor, the chair of the division, who answers to the President and Vice President of Academic Affairs. Perhaps the main thing I took away from this meeting was the sense of definite structure, of a concrete supervisor and ordered practices that are going to be implemented over the next several months. 

One of the topics discussed was grading and homework submission, and as the discussion progressed, what emerged was that the new chair, who was conducting the meeting, was clearly asserting that she was the authority when it came to disputes with students and administration, that the buck stopped with her. We had to justify our positions and decisions with her, but once we did, she would be our advocate when dealing with students or administration branches. My supervisor, who had helped shape the curriculum as it now stands, cried, “Hooray! We have an advocate!” She was overjoyed that someone was going to take her/our side, and that would be the end of it. 

I was struck by this joy that she and others at the meeting displayed on hearing this truth established and emphasized. But I understood; it’s quite a relief to find that someone will defend and argue for you in situations where your judgment and behavior is concerned, especially when it involves those with power over you. If a student accuses you of acting inappropriately in some way, the worst thing to happen is to have your supervisor refuse to support you. I saw this happen to a colleague of mine, and not only did it render him impotent in terms of his class, handing out punishments or poor grades, but it embittered and depressed him, casting a cynical shadow over his view of teaching in general and the supervisor in particular. 

The lack of an advocate can also spread to those who have not been directly affected. I as a fellow student-teacher now understood that my supervisor would not support me if I got into a jam, and therefore had to exercise greater caution and restraint when dealing with my students, especially student of a different racial makeup as that was the circumstances surrounding my colleague’s fiasco. When you know you are on your own, it causes you to harden yourself, to draw inward, to look first to self-preservation before considering the function you are tasked to perform. The implied lesson is clear: if they are willing to cut out your colleague’s legs, you can expect no different. Apart from souring an environment like an office or collection of teacher, it inculcates cynicism and skepticism in any message of support from a higher authority. It also prevents or at least delays trust in a new supervisor who may claim to be willing to support you and your fellows in times of strife. The lack of a true advocate is a dreadful thing.

Just imagine, then, how much worse it would be if we lacked an advocate before God. If our defenselessness in a work environment acts with such corrosive poison, when the stakes are merely embarrassment, censure, or at the worst dismissal, how much more terrible would be our lives if the advocacy for our salvation and forgiveness rested on our shoulders alone? For we often find ourselves in similar circumstances in our spiritual walk; at least, I do. I find myself mired in self-condemnation and reproach for a sin I have committed, reproach that is aided and enlarged by the forces of darkness and the conscience that rightly notes evil. The offense is real, and must be addressed, but the reaction usually speaks death into our hearts. After all, God is holy and righteous; how can He not reject this sin? And in doing so, reject us? Moreover, aren’t we supposed to be saved, freed from the law of sin and death? If so, then why do we still sin? Something must be wrong. And so the script begins a drumbeat of condemnation and judgment that seems perfectly valid to us. The defendant is guilty, Your Honor, and the wages of sin is, well, you know.

But.

“We finally have an Advocate! Someone who will defend us, argue for us! Someone who can counter the attacks of the Law, the devil, and our own conscience! Praise be to Him!” Have you ever thanked Jesus for defending you before God the Father against the tirades of Satan, whose name means “accuser”? Have you ever collapsed (spiritually) at the throne of grace, weary from attacks on your heart, crying out, “Your grace is sufficient, Lord!”? Have you ever rebuked your conscience, quoting the words of Paul, that we are the righteousness of God, having been freed from the Law of sin and death, now under grace? Jesus is my Advocate; He’s on my side. If you’re at all like me, you have often felt like no one was on your side, that the entire world seems united in condemning you (even if it wasn’t true). How marvelous that we now have a dauntless and tireless fighter in our corner, a champion like the knights of old who defends our honor with blood, sweat, and tears. For He paid the bloodprice that all our sins, for all time, are forgiven; as soon as they occur, they are covered and God remembers them no more. Because the blood of Jesus pleads for you and me before God. And that blood isn’t just the death on the cross that reconciled us; it’s also the life that courses through His veins that we now share, that alone can bring us to life. The life is in the blood. 

Do you believe this? What chains would this truth strike from off your heart and mind if you truly believed this and began to walk in it? There’s only one way to find out…

Game Night Profundity

As I was journeying to Game night, I had a spiritual revelation. I almost called it an epiphany, but to me that term always suggested a purely mental awakening or flash of insight. This revelation, which was undoubtedly from the Lord as I shall shortly demonstrate, came at the heart level, the innermost being. A level, I might add, I am unaccustomed to living on, which added to the impact.

To go forward one often must go back first, and so it is with this story. Without droning on about the numerous troubles and tribulations in my life, a great many of which have, recently, been car-related, let me just say that yet another sizeable car repair was necessary, a bill I was unable to pay. Fresh from that, and the three hour drive from my parents’ house, I noted a noise in the car, which in conjunction with the “Service Engine Soon” light blazing defiantly on my dashboard prophesized future disaster (or at least, inconvenience). And I was tense, nervous as I merged onto the interstate; if the wheel came off, things might get hairy. To be sure, the chances of that happening were slim, but I seem to attract mechanical distress like honey draws bees. 

All of a sudden, a burden vanished.

The tension melted away, and inside my mind came the thought, How foolish can you be, to worry about this! If it happens, it happens. Worrying won’t prevent it; all it does is enable you to roll around in miserable self-pity even before you have cause! Besides (and here is where the Holy Spirit chimed in, if He hadn’t been speaking already), if the car does break down, that just gives God the opportunity to provide for you! It’s a chance to see Him work in your life, in physical, tangible ways! Hallelujah!
 

I chuckled to myself, and had a nice cozy talk with Him as my car hummed along. Upon arrival, I found myself cheerful, an alien state of mind for me usually. I can put on a bold face or fake levity, but the heart normally doesn’t overflow with it. Today it was. 

I was and continue to be thunderstruck at this blatantly obvious truth, that my weakness and desperation are merely opportunities for God to show Himself strong and capable on my behalf. How many times have I said this, and read this, and heard this! I believed it thoroughly, but my heart didn’t understand. Plus, what if that’s the reason so many things go wrong in life? What if God allows or causes mishaps because He not only knows it will drive us to Him, but He loves to show off! Not in a braggadocios manner, like a peacock strutting for a hen, but like a mechanic who drives along roads in hopes of coming upon a stranded motorist whom he can assist. God wants us to trust Him, to rely on Him, and the best way to accomplish this is to create or capitalize on situations where He is needed, to prove Himself. Boys love to show off for their fathers lifting heavy weights or demonstrating a killer karate chop, not out of self-aggrandizement but simply because they want their fathers to be impressed, to praise and cherish them. Girls adorn themselves in beautiful outfits and twirl for their moms and dads, eager to hear how gorgeous and captivating they are. Is there an element of this in God? Does He yearn for our praise and approval with childlike eagerness and innocence? Dare we ascribe such simple urges to the Ultimate complexity? 

We even see this in the reverse at times. A father loves the look of awe and respect in his child’s eyes, and he seeks to earn and deserve that respect, if he is a good father. In the same way, couldn’t the Father of all desire to see our jaws drop in wonder at His work? We marvel at nature and the deep mysteries of Scripture, which is right and proper, but what if He wants our wonder in the everyday humdrum of life? What if He wants us to praise Him because an unexpected bill arrived in the mail a day before an unexpected gift for the exact same amount arrives? And in the 24 hours between the bill and the gift, He wants us to praise Him and trust Him that all will be well?

What kind of a God would be like that? The kind that slips in the back door of Creation, in a manger, when everyone is scouring the landscape for a king? The kind that chooses a backwater country, a backwater city in that country, and a simple virgin girl instead of a seat of power and the lineage of Caesars? The kind that walks into Death’s open arms instead of whistling up legions of heavenly warriors? The kind that recruits fishermen and hookers instead of priests and rabbis? Who takes the ordinary, unimpressive things of life and reshapes the world?

That kind of God might.

Dirty Mirrors and Boiling Frogs

I cleaned my bathroom mirror for the first time in months the other day. And before you comment on the life of a bachelor, focus! I have a different point to make. I was and still am startled at the clearer image that glowers back at me when I face it. It brought to mind a verse from that seminal  thirteenth chapter in I Corinthians: “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (12). 

Apart from the immediate context of the verse, which declares that the imperfection with which we understand God’s love is temporal and will fade once all things come together in Him, another application occurred to me. Bear with me if this is something that you have heard before; I tend to be a slow learner and it helps to process things. Quite often we don’t realize how dirty things have become until and unless we clean them. Mirrors, toilets, cars, kitchen drawers, garages, and so forth; the list is endless. We think that we are perceiving things clearly, that while dirt or clutter may have clouded our view slightly we’re still mostly seeing things as they are. Then something happens to erase the smudges, silence the din, and clear away the rubble, and we realize just how clouded and crowded our senses have been.

And I’m sure you can relate to this, how the imperceptible accumulation over time can slide under the radar, building in the background. We’re frogs in water that are being slowly brought to boil. If the distractions and encumbrances had popped up all at once, in a headlong rush, it would be simple and obvious to recognize and redress the situation. But, and here is where I truly sense the great Malevolence spoken of so often in the New Testament, circumstances conspire to keep us ignorant of the distractions. The darkness slowly creeps over our field of vision until we can’t remember what it was to look into a clean mirror. That vivid image of ourselves, our Savior, and the world is gradually crowded out, by even the most benign and innocuous events of life. Nay, even, dare I say, by the spiritual laps we run, thinking that we are doing good work for God. Not every glass cleaner leaves a clean image afterward. 

It’s death by Novocain, which the Enemy much prefers to a stab to the heart. We are, like James said, people who look in a mirror and turn away, promptly forgetting what we look like. 

What is the remedy? What is the spiritual Windex to clean the mirror? Well, the first step is recognizing the possibility that the image we’re seeing may be marred or blurry. If we just accept the image as reality, then all else is moot. Second, we must consider what the true image is. Depending on what element of your life is being masked, this answer will vary, but generally whatever strengthens your dependence on and relationship with God are the areas the Enemy will try to distort. 

Third, clean the blasted thing! Quite obvious, no? But it’s sometimes easier said than done. Deep wounds and hidden sins can be both painful and difficult to unearth and even more to correct. But by and large the distortions can be remedied by simply turning back to the Word of God and His Spirit. Seek the truth of what God communicated through the writers, and ask Him for confirmation and affirmation. Be sure, however, to always remember that it is the death of Christ for us that redeems us and the life of Christ in us that is saving us. If you begin to drum up all the check marks in your favor in the Ledger, that will only further blur the image. Cast away all hope of deserving salvation or sanctification (I’m speaking to Christians, mind!), and throw yourself wholly at the feet of the Throne. He is the great Illusion-Shatterer. Humble thyself in the sight of the Lord, and He will exalt you.

Fourth, rise and repeat as needed. I mean, rinse. Slip of the tongue.

Death to Smitty!

I was musing about my lack of job, and hence finances, when it hit me. A question that we often hear but we seldom really ponder. A question that is so distasteful that it becomes a snap to allow it to breeze out of our minds whenever it enters. The question is, What do you want me to sacrifice to You, Lord?

My first impulse was to deny the validity of such a question. Why, I’ve sacrificed my whole life to Him! I’ve renounced my own selfish ways, the delusion of earning redemption on my own merit, the supremacy of Sin in my life. I’ve abstained from many sensual pleasures, to a greater or lesser degree, out of reverence and love for the Lord. I read the Bible daily. I listen to sermons and attend church virtually every week. I listen to Christian music and attend a weekly small group, sacrificing my favorite TV show to do so. (A sacrifice which, by the way, I don’t think God appreciates enough. I mean, it’s House! Come on!)

My second impulse was to answer the question, claiming that I’ve asked that question lots of times. And I’ve never gotten a clear, definitive answer. If it were movies or junk food or golf (as painful as that might be), then at least it would be unequivocal. But that never seems to be the case.

But the sad truth is that neither impulse is accurate. My litany of so-called sacrifices, while all true more or less, have cost me very little, or else have been things that coincide with my own natural inclinations, when they are even true. I do lots of things that direct my attention towards God, but they are all superficial; or at least, they all have the potential to be. Reading the Bible, attending church or small groups, tithing or abstaining from the Mortal Sins, can all be done out of a sense of self-righteousness and duty rather than in a true attitude of sacrifice and devotion to the Lord. Also, though I’ve never received an audible or tangible directive on areas to sacrifice, there are lots of things I have felt would benefit my walk with the Lord and my life in general to give up, like junk food or certain movies. Besides, the Lord may be waiting for me to prove myself willing to die in small things before He challenges me with the more important tasks that we associate with His ministry to a lost and dying world. 

You might be wondering what the connection was to the original context of the thought, my unemployment. Well, I was wondering to myself and to the Lord why He had not given me a job or finances. And the reply came in the form of the question I originally asked: Well, David, what are you willing to give to Me? It is so easy to regard God as an ATM or a sugar daddy, who is there merely to fulfill our needs and desires without any recompense on our part. But that’s not really how it works. 

Besides, if this is really a relationship I’m in with Jesus, then doesn’t He have the right to expect some quid pro quo? Not strictly an economic transaction, but a relationship wherein someone else has claim on you in some way or another. Someone besides you can alter and affect your will. Which is exactly what God wants of us; He wants our wills to submit to Him. In return, He will direct our wills and make His illimitable resources available to us. "All there is of God is available to the man who is available to all there is of God."

Something else that occurred to me today was the double-mindedness I posses. In discussing my philosophy of teaching I produced for a job application, I mentioned that students have to desire to excel, to learn, if they are going to benefit from classes. I can provide instruction and evaluation, correction and encouragement, but I cannot motivate them to try other than in the most basic sense of punitive measures. As the old adage goes, You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Not, at least, if it doesn’t want to. And while I fully embrace this sentiment when it comes to my role as a teacher, I fail to comprehend or implement it as a student or subordinate in the sense of my relationship with the Father. As I said, if a student really wants to learn the material, then they will learn it; maybe not perfectly and entirely, but progress will be made. And I was struck by the fact that if I really wanted to control my appetites, to discipline my body and mind, then it’s simply a matter of doing it. So the fact that I haven’t done it must therefore mean that I don’t really want to do it, not at the most fundamental level. A discouraging revelation, but potentially life-altering.

And thus we come full circle. Because if I am serious about wanting to be changed and transformed by God into the image of His Son, then He will do it. Not only has He promised to do so, and He is not a liar, but it is also the fundamental reason He created man in the beginning. I have to want it, to desire it more than I desire the fulfillment of my own appetites and needs. It has to be more important to me than anything else. 

So that is my prayer. God, create in me this desire, to see Your will done in my life, to see Your image molded around me. This do I crave more than fleshly appetites or pampered egos. Ridicule me in the eyes of the world if You must, reduce my life to ashes (which seems to be the programme at the moment), consume my self-centeredness and replace my stone of a heart with a living heart, Your heart.

"We're gonna need a bigger..."

We talk about David and Goliath, and rightly so. When he demanded to face the giant, David didn’t rely on his human ability, his strength or prowess. He wasn’t after glory or the daughter of a king. He was enraged that the name of the God of Israel was being defied and defiled by a pagan dog, a blasphemous Philistine. If ever there was a greater contrast, a starker exemplar of the context of God versus the context of man, it would be difficult to imagine. On one side was David, a stripling youth who watched sheep all day. On the other was a professional warrior, Goliath, a giant of a man with tremendous strength when battles were won by having more and superior warriors. David feared the Lord and dedicated his service and his battle to Him. He relied on the Lord to carry the day, to go before him and fight his battles for him. Goliath depended on himself, on his fearful power and successful record. And God uses the low things of this world to bring down the great things. After all the weapons and training and experience, all the odds stacked on Goliath’s size, all it took was a single stone, and faith in God. David looked at God to deliver him from bears and lions and giants, and God was bigger than Goliath. So we justly associate this story with David and Goliath.

However, there’s another element of this: Saul and Goliath. For Saul was the king. And the description of him we are initially presented with is that he was tall, dark, and handsome, literally head and shoulders above everyone else. The people said, “Yes! That’s what a king is supposed to look like! He should be big and strong and winsome. Let’s have him rule us instead of God.” And Saul did his job well, from the people’s perspective. At least in the beginning. He struck the Amalekites and slew their whole army, salvaging only the king and the cream of the crop, in violation of God’s orders. This of course led to God rejecting Saul, since Saul was interested in pleasing himself and his subjects rather than pleasing God. But I imagine that up until this impasse with Goliath, the people were quite pleased with Saul’s performance in office. If you took an approval poll early on the results would have looked good. “What do you think of Saul as king?” “Well, the economy’s fine. Oh, yeah, we really showed those pesky Amalekites what for, didn’t we? Nobody’s going to mess with us while we’ve got Saul leading us, no sir.” “What about God?” “Uh, what about Him? I go to the tabernacle like everyone else. I make the sacrifices. I’m devout. What’s that go to do with Saul?”

Here’s the lesson: There’s always someone bigger. Saul was head and shoulders above everyone else. He was probably a great warrior. When public opinion was skewing toward David, the chant went “Saul has killed his thousands, and David his tens of thousands.” Obviously this was an example of how the people revered David’s prowess on the battle field over Saul’s, but Saul to have slain thousands (if possibly exaggerated) was testament that he was no mean warrior in his own right. So when Goliath stands before the Philistine army and challenges Israel’s best to come out and face him, the immediate sentiment would probably have been that Saul was the best, and being an Israelite and the king, surely could handle even a dire foe like Goliath. But Goliath was bigger and stronger, superior to Saul in every earthly aspect that mattered. Saul had been relying on his physical attributes, had believed the hype and probably saw himself as every bit the epitome of humanity that the people thought he was. What a blow to see someone bigger and stronger, to the extent that Saul looked puny in comparison.

Whenever you begin to rely on your gifts, the physical attributes and abilities that you were born with or have cultivated in order to cope with life, there will almost always come a moment when those physical gifts will be insufficient. Someone will come along who is bigger, stronger, smarter, faster, prettier, craftier, more skillful or disciplined, more gifted naturally, than you. Or a situation will arise that finds you unequal to the task, that you must come to terms with the painful reality that you cannot handle whatever comes by sheer dint of your training and gifts. What will you do? Will you try to slink away and huddle in your tent like Saul? Will you rail and boast and set yourself up as the end-all, be-all like Goliath? Or will you walk confidently onto the plain with the simple gifts and abilities God gave you, and relinquish them back to Him? Trust Him to use you to defeat the giant? Trust Him to be strong enough to overcome where you cannot?

Grace Message

The basic premise of this understanding of the Gospel is the idea that the Christian life is not something that I live; rather it is something I allow the Holy Spirit to live in and through me. Just like the brain controls the rest of the body, Jesus is supposed to control His Body, and we are members of that Body. We don’t decide what to do or where to go any more than our fingers or toes act independently of the brain. (Or rather, if they do, then something is seriously wrong, and it’s time to call in Dr. House.)

Now, even though every earthly analogy falls short, I particularly like the one in which a child attempts to write words, and the father closes his hand around the child’s so that even though the child is holding the pen and moving it across the paper, the father is actually responsible for what appears on the page. Even so our lives are our own, and we live them, but the Christian has the opportunity, the honor, and the responsibility to allow the Father to live our lives for us, to direct our will and actions and words. But it is much less obvious who is doing what than the analogy makes it seem, naturally. We can only be sure of the Father’s activity in our lives by the results: if the results are capable of being accomplished through our activity and ability, then it stands to reason that we are the originator of it. If, however, what happens is beyond our ability to control or create, if it is truly miraculous, something impossible to orchestrate apart from the omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence of God, then we may safely assume that it was God working through us to do His pleasure. Just like, to complete the analogy, a ragged, illegible scrawl can be attributed to the child’s handiwork, while a clear, eloquent and firm script must be the work of the father.

You may ask where this idea is supported in the Bible, and rightfully so. The clearest expression occurs in Galatians 2:20: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” In other words, I no longer call the shots in my life; not my will, but His be done. Or a chapter later, when Paul berates the Galatians: “I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?” (3:2-3). In other words, we were saved completely through the actions of God and Jesus, and we access that salvation by abdicating our will and our lives, our attempts to please God through our own actions. Are we actually saying that, after being saved by faith, by depending upon the work and office of Jesus, that, now saved, we are going to discard Jesus until we get to heaven, we are going to revert back to the pre-Christian mentality of trying to please God through our sweat, blood and tears? Which is why Paul rails against them so much, and why he says in Colossians 2:6, “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him.”

Romans constructs this argument, especially in chapter 5, verses 9-10: “Much more then, having now been justified by His blood, we shall be saved from wrath through Him.  For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life.” The cross justified and redeemed us, but the resurrection saved us, because we are saved by the life of Jesus. And even as His life is not a single thing but an ongoing process, so too our salvation and sanctification is an ongoing process, not a singular event. If that weren’t enough, the next chapter hammers it home: “Or do you not know that as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life” (3-5). Our sins were buried in His death and entombment, and so our lives were raised when the stone rolled away, that we may “walk in newness of life” right now, on earth. To think otherwise is to say that eternal life begins after we die, after life on earth is over. But the Gospel doesn’t say this; Jesus rose on earth, walked on earth, and concluded His ministry on earth, ascending to the Father only so the Spirit could come down and continue the work in the new way.

Here’s the final confirmation, from the lips of Christ Himself. While preparing His disciples for the crucifixion, He says that “He who has seen Me has seen the Father; so how can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?  Do you not believe that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me? The words that I speak to you I do not speak on My own authority; but the Father who dwells in Me does the works.   Believe Me that I am in the Father and the Father in Me” (John 14:9-11).  Or in John 5:19: “Then Jesus answered and said to them, ’Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the Son also does in like manner.’” This is the final example of the Christian life, the life that Christ lived. He did not live His own life, according to His own will, but rather the will of His Father. In like manner are we to live.

And this is why this understanding of the Christian life has so captured my heart and mind. Because I have always tried to do the right thing, to live a good life, to be good. Basically my entire life has been lived as a Christian, and it kills me to look at my past littered with sin and failure. I despair. If there was one argument that might have convinced me of the falseness of Christianity, it would have been this concept that someone can be saved, and see little difference in their everyday life, no matter how honest and earnest their desire to change, to be different. It’s one thing if a person “converts” and then never demonstrates either a change or the desire to change; such a person’s conversion can be seriously doubted. But I have ever longed to please God, to live a life that He could say of it, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” And I have always failed. That has been a greater torment to my soul than my poor self-image based on body image, zero relationships, lack of career, etc. And when I read what Ian Thomas and Bill Gillham wrote, when I listened to Thomas’ sermons, it was a weight falling off my back; the sun switching on in my spirit. At last the Christian life made sense! At last it seemed feasible! At last, a practical application of the words of Scripture! Because I grasped what the problem was: me! I was trying to do my best for God, to live a righteous life on my own steam and out of my own desire. But my own desire to live righteously prove time and again hopelessly inadequate to overcoming the desires of the flesh, the old man that twists and perverts every good thing, every good impulse and healthy ambition. Not to mention the fact that the servants of Hell would hardly allow me free rein to live a righteous life. Even as I was unable to resist my own sinful nature before conversion, so I was unable to dismiss my sinful nature after conversion. And God never expected me to! He isn’t interested in rehabilitating my flesh; He wants to replace it, with His Spirit. He wants me to exchange independence for dependence on Him. To live is Christ, Christ in my living, thinking, working, sleeping, eating, hoping, loving, everything. Christ in me, the hope of glory.

And so, as Paul says in Philippians 2:12-13, “Therefore, my beloved…work out your own salvation with fear and trembling;  for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.” That is why I am confident in my ability to lose weight, to find a career, to gain a wife, to overcome. Because I’m no longer confident in my ability, but rather I am confident that “He who has begun a good work in [me] will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil 1:6). I am His piece of work, and He’s the one who’s going to polish me off.