Hope and More Hope

“There is hope in the Gospel for any man, so long as he lives. There is infinite willingness in Christ to pardon sin. There is infinite power in the Holy Spirit to change hearts. There are many diseases of the body which are incurable. The cleverest doctors cannot heal them. But, thank God! there are no incurable diseases of soul. All manner and quantity of sins can be washed away by Christ! The hardest and most wicked of hearts can be changed.

Reader, I say again, while there is life—there is hope. The oldest, the vilest, the worst of sinners may be saved. Only let him come to Christ, confess his sin, and cry to Him for pardon—only let him cast his soul on Christ, and he shall be cured. The Holy Spirit shall be sent down on his heart, according to Christ’s promise, and he shall be changed by His Almighty power, into a new creature.”  

— J.C. Ryle

Any Questions?

In his book Lifesigns, Henri Nouwen writes ... “A careful look at the gospels shows that
Jesus seldom accepted the questions posed to him. He exposed them as coming from the house of fear.

“Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? How often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me? Is it against the law for a man to divorce his wife on any pretext whatever? What authority do you have for acting like this? At the resurrection, to which of those seven men she married will she be a wife, since she had been married to them all? Are you the king of the Jews? Lord, has the hour come? Are you going to restore the kingdom to Israel? ...

“To none of these questions,” Nouwen writes, “did Jesus give a direct answer. He gently put them aside as questions emerging from false worries. They were raised out of concern for prestige, influence, power, and control. They did not belong to the house of God.  Therefore Jesus always transformed the questions by his answer. He made the question new—and only then worthy of his response.

Paul Zahl on Grace

"I compare the feeling of horror I had then with the feeling of elation I had on first seeing the ending of Intolerance (1916). At the end of D. W. Griffith’s epic film, Christ comes again to the world. The effect is created by an optical superimposition. What the inspired director shows is a prison teeming with convicts, all dressed in prison stripes. They look up and the prison walls start to fall. They emerge, every one of them, into the absolving light of the one releasing God. The release is total. I don’t
think the image — and it is the last image of the movie — is intended metaphorically. Another quick frame in the montage shows men fighting on a battlefield, their long bayonets skewering each other with brutal relish. Overhead, the brightly lit cross of the Second Coming suddenly appears and they drop their weapons. There is no “peace process” here. It is finally all over."

               - Paul Zahl in Grace in Practice

When Christ returns, those in prison, actual human prisons, will be set free.  They will go on to eternal life or destruction.  So it will also be with us who have made our "free" world a "prison" for ourselves.  Why won't we accept Christ's offer to be set free now.   

Luke 4

He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
    because he has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
    and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
    to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

My Neighbor Needs Help

From All of Grace Blog

Recently, I've started reading Wayne Gordon's, "Who is My Neighbor". First of all, if you don't know who Wayne Gordon is, read a biography of him right here. The guy is an inspiration to me and certainly someone I am trying to learn from. Reflecting on his years of  ministry in North Lawndale, Wayne's book takes a look at the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37) and asks the question: Who is my neighbor?

The book is organized into short (2-3 pages) chapters meant to be read daily, in which Gordon points out different aspects of "Who is my neighbor?" and "What does it look like to love my neighbor?" The second days title was, "My Neighbor Needs Help". Here's what Gordon writes:

"A second obvious characteristic of a neighbor is somebody who needs help....The parables of the Good Samaritan revolves around a person who needs help-who has been left naked and half dead and is unable to help himself.

On the surface, helping others seems like a very simple concept. It's not. Of course, if all we mean by helping is opening the door for someone whose hands are full, that's one thing. But it's another thing if helping means that we have to get involved in another person's life, as the Good Samaritan did. 

These days, people don't want to get involved. Perhaps they are afraid to get involved. After all, helping others can be a risky proposition."

I love this excerpt from Gordon because I think it points out the very nature of what it means to love someone. Actually helping someone, or as I would say, loving someone, is never convenient or efficient (as quoted by Nick Theobald). It means putting aside your own ambitions and laying yourself down in the service of another. I think as people, and as Christians, we love to conveniently help people. We love being nice. We love walking around with a smile on our face while we do some really nice things (like opening the door for someone). I'm not saying these are bad. But I am saying, this is not truly loving your neighbor. That is soothing your religious conscious. Big difference. Actually helping, or loving, means getting involved with a person. It means entering into their brokenness and messiness. It means giving up your perfect schedule, emotional energy, and comfortability for the sake of another. I think Wayne Gordon touches on an important truth: that helping others (or loving) is not a simple concept. Loving your neighbor is to risk yourself for you neighbor. This doesn't always play out in the extreme example of risking your own life. But it is risking your time, energy, money, stability, comfort, cleanliness, etc...

How did Jesus love us? He risked all of those things. He risked them to the max. He put everything on the line for us. He did it so he could save us from our brokenness and give us new life. And now, for those who have this new life, he asks us to prodigally do the same.

Our sufficient Savior

Jesus Christ, God’s own Son, became like us to be a total Savior, sufficient for the whole range of our need. How hollow, then, ring the world’s complaints against our God. People are saying all the time today, lamenting in this world of woe, ‘Where is God? Why doesn’t he do something?’ Meanwhile, he has done everything, indeed, more than ever we could ask or imagine. God has entered into our world. He has walked through the dust of this earth. He who is life has wept before the grave, and he who is the Bread of Life has felt the aching of hunger in his belly.

Is there anything more lovely in all of Scripture than the scenes of Jesus supping with the weak and the weary, the sinners and the publicans? He has taken the thorns that afflict this sin-scarred world and woven them into a crown to be pressed upon his head. And he has stretched open his arms in love, that the hands that wove creation might be nailed to a wooden cross. Then he rose from the dead, conquering all that would conquer us, setting us free to live in peace and joy before the face of God.




— Richard D. PhillipsHebrews: Reformed Expository Commentary

If you loved me, then you would…

From Mockingbird blog:

This short and beautiful reflection comes from Andrew Pearson.

And the LORD said to me, “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.”  So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley.  And I said to her, “You must dwell as mine for many days.  You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so I will also be to you.”  For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods.  Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their kin, and they shall come in fear to the LORD and to his goodness in the latter days.   Hosea 3:1-5

Hosea the prophet was called to marry a prostitute named Gomer. Though you might be willing to understand your lover’s love for “cakes of raisins,” no one really plans or wishes to marry someone who had proven to be unfaithful, and certainly no one would want to marry someone who once had been unfaithful, and continued to be so.

Hosea’s marriage to Gomer illustrates God’s relationship to an unfaithful Israel.  In spite of the fact that Gomer is an adulteress, she is ransomed by Hosea, showing God’s love for his people in the face of their unfaithfulness.  The Lord’s love for Israel remains untethered to any sinful behavior breaking its bonds.  God is faithful despite the ongoing reality that they are still unfaithful.

This message is often lost in churches today.  Often we hear, “If you behave yourself, then God, who loves you, will bless you.  He chose you because he sees great potential in who you could be.”  And why shouldn’t we believe this?  This is how many of our relationships work.  We often say to our spouses or family members, “If you loved me, then you would….”

But this is not how God operates.  God knows you are a conditionally bought-and-sold human being, and still Jesus’ death on the cross is the final declarative statement that God’s love for you is unconditional.  As it is said, “There is nothing that can separate you from the love of God.”  It is not a love that forgives once or any number of times, but is timeless and unremitting.  This is the love that brings redemption, even to those of us who often feel like Gomer.

Leading me to humility, not to humiliation.

A Prayer about the Ultimate Insanity of Despising God’s Kindness

by Scotty Smith

     Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? Rom. 2:4 

Heavenly Father, I’ve seen many crazy things in my life and I’ve certainly done my share of crazy things. But the most certifiably insane thing I do is to show contempt for the riches of your kindness, tolerance, and patience for me in Jesus. I do this when I dig my heels in and resist following your kindness into fresh repentance.

 

When I refuse to humble myself—when I won’t acknowledge the ways I love poorly and act out immaturely—when I hold on to attitudes and actions that rob me of joy, and you of glory, that is insanity. Showing contempt for your kindness is quintessential and ultimate craziness!

 

Father, I praise you today for being undaunted—for being immeasurably affluent in the currency of kindness, tolerance, and patience. There’s no economic downturn in heaven—never has been, never will be. But there’s nothing in me that assumes the right to any of your loving ways. It’s only because Jesus willingly endured the judgment we deserve that I’m in a position to be dealt with so mercifully and graciously.

 

Father, thank you that you’re leading me to humility, not to humiliation; to shelter, not to shame; to repentance, not to penance. Indeed, the GPS of the gospel will never direct us to a destination of harm, but only to a place of greater freedom in Christ; for when we repent, we’re not the one making promises to change our hearts—you are. Only you can change us, and you are changing us, for you’ve covenanted to do so. That’s what the gospel is all about. When we repent, we simply collapse upon Jesus, once again, as our righteousness, our holiness, and our sure hope of a new and changed heart.

 

So this morning, kind Father, I repent. I repent of not trusting that you are at work in my current irritating circumstances. I’ve looked at the weaknesses of others more than I’ve kept my eyes fixed on Jesus. It’s been easier to gossip than to pray. I’ve been moping and plotting like an orphan rather than rejoicing and trusting as a beloved son.

     

I’ve been more preoccupied with the ways of broken men than thrilled with the occupied throne of heaven. I’ve acted as though I care more about Jesus’ church than he does. That is certifiably insane. I repent. Because the gospel is true and you are so kind, I repent. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and mighty name.

Pity Party

A Prayer about a Third Kind of Prodigal Son

 by Scotty Smith

 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 

Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. Ps. 51:12

Dear heavenly Father, thankfully, I’m not beginning this day in a far away country, derelict and destitute—a re-enactment of the younger son’s plight (Luke 15). Though I’m capable of anything, I’m not filled with shame for squandering an inheritance, and neither am I out in a field feeding somebody else’s pigs. I’m in a comfortable chair, sipping a fresh cup of coffee, surrounded by more than my share of creature comforts. And yet I’m just as much in need of fellowship with you as any of your beloved children.

     

Because the gospel is true, I bring you my busy, not-very-well-focused, somewhat meandering heart. I feel like a third son right now. I’m not struggling with the extremes of either of the sons in Luke 15. I’m not acting out in destructive “fleshy” ways, and I’m not presently throwing myself a self-righteous pity party. I’m just somewhere in between. I still hear and love the wonderful music of the gospel, but I just don’t feel like dancing right now.

     

So, Father, as I come to you today, I take great comfort in knowing that I’ll always find you filled with compassion for me, even when my feelings are not fully engaged with you. As I saunter toward you, you’re always running toward me in Jesus. As I’m glad to see you, you see me from afar and are thrilled at the sighting. I believe this, help my unbelief.

     

When I’m not as inclined to lift my arms in praise to you, your embrace is the most predictable element in my day. You don’t just put your hand on my shoulder; you throw your arms around me in the gospel. And though my love for you wavers, you will shower me with multiple kisses all day long, for you love your children with an everlasting, unwavering love.

     

Because the gospel is true, I’ll seek to live to your glory today, neither by sight nor by my feelings, but by the faith you’ve given me to trust and love you. It’s not my grasp of you but your grasp of me in the gospel that matters the most. It’s not the enjoyment of my peace with you, but the assurance that you’re at peace with me that’s the anchor for my soul. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ wonderful and merciful name.

Practical and Specific

“But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.”  Luke 6:35

But love your enemies.  If we stand up for what’s right, we will have enemies.  They feel justified in their hostility.  But Jesus says, love them anyway.  Hostile people expect hostility in return.  Jesus says, surprise them.

And do good.  This “love” cannot be just benevolent emotions or big talk.  Jesus says, make it practical.  What good thing can you and I do for those who have done bad things to us?

And lend, expecting nothing in return.  Jesus is moving from the general (love your enemies) to the actionable (and do good) to a specific example (and lend, expecting nothing in return).  Loving our enemies will cost us.

And your reward will be great.  Enemies have the power to take, but they do not have the power to return what they have taken.  Jesus does.  Our futures are in his hands, not theirs.  And he is promising a great reward to those who trust him enough to follow him in this way.

And you will be sons of the Most High.  It is no petty godlet who calls us into this hard path.  It is the Most High.  And his greatest glory is that he loves the undeserving.  Jesus says, here is how you can be most clearly identified with him.

For he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.  Before God, we are all ungrateful and evil.  But Jesus is saying this with reference to the conflicts we find ourselves in.  It is ungrateful and evil enemies we are to love — people who should be grateful and good, but for their own reasons they are not what God wants them to be.  It is such people to whom he is kind.  Good thing for us.

Love your enemies

is a post from: Ray Ortlund

The Worst Tool for Evangelism

From Stuff Christians Like by Jon Acuff

A few weeks ago, I drove by a church welcome sign in North Carolina that I thought was a smidge strange. As I am wont to do, I promptly turned it into a tweet and said the following on Twitter:

“If you’re 99% saved, then you’re 100% lost!” Church sign I just drove by. I guess they didn’t have the letters for “Visitors keep out.”

A number of people saw that tweet and replied back to me with thoughts like this:

“Isn’t that theologically accurate?”
“Don’t we need to be convicted?”

I think those were good questions, but I never doubted the accuracy of that idea. I was doubting whether or not a welcome sign is the best place to debate theological accuracy. Is a message of shame the best message for a church welcome sign?

And more than that, what does “100% saved” mean? Who is measuring that? The pastor of that church? The elders? Is there a chart? What is the 1% that makes all the difference? What do you do with the guy in Mark 9 who asks Jesus to heal his child “if you can?”

Jesus replies, “If you can? Everything is possible for one who believes.”

To which the father says, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

Jesus, sensing that the father was only 78% saved says, “Can’t do it. Disciples, get my boat! It’s time to bounce.”

Or he heals him and moves on. One of those two things happened.

Ranking by percentage the authenticity of your faith is a difficult thing to do, but maybe we all already agree on that point. What about the need for us to be convicted?

I agree with that. I do, but I think that as humans we have an unbelievable ability to transform conviction into shame.

I think that’s part of the reason Jesus left us so little wiggle room in Matthew 22:37-40. When asked what the most important commandment in the law was, he replied:

 “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Notice what it doesn’t say? It doesn’t say, “Judge your neighbor.” Or, “Convict your neighbor.” Or, “Shame your neighbor.”

The verb is love.

Now the pushback is this: “The most loving thing you can do is share the truth of Christ with someone.”

Agreed. But again, a word of caution about using “shame” as a tool of evangelism. Let’s not forget what we are told in Romans 2:1-4:

“You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God’s judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness leads you toward repentance?”

What leads us toward repentance? Kindness.

Not shame.
Not abuse.
Not anger.
Kindness.

But if you’d prefer to not look at it through that lens, as least answer this question:

Have you ever met someone who said, “I became a Christian when a friend of mine shamed me badly. They shamed me into the arms of Christ.”

I haven’t, but I have heard this story countless times:

“A neighbor loved me when I was so unlovable to them. Their love made no sense. Finally I had to ask them, ‘Why are you so different? Why are you so kind to me? That’s when they told me about this guy, Jesus Christ.’”

Do we need conviction? Without a doubt.

Do we need theological accuracy? Definitely.

Do we need shame? That’s a tough one. But I do know this, we don’t need it on our church welcome signs.