Her Mentor and Friend Friday, Apr 25 2008

Since last fall, I have had the privilege of discipling Lindsey, one of the most beautiful women I have ever met (I mean that as far as inward beauty, but she is also absolutely gorgeous on the outside).  We meet almost every week, and I grow to love her more each time.  She has a heart that truly wants to be Christ-centered in every thing she says, does, and thinks.  She has challenged me much in the past few months.

Shamefully, I didn’t know Lindsey and her husband Drew had a blog until recently, so I popped over yesterday to visit it.  As I was looking at the sidebar, I noticed one link that said “My mentor.”  I clicked on it and found she had linked to me.  I know I am technically Lindsey’s mentor, but I honestly never think of myself in those terms, so it caught me a bit off-guard.  This may seem strange, but God used those two little words to point out another area of my sinfulness–my lack of being gospel-centered in my friendships.

Technically, Lindsey and I get together so I can point her to Christ in whatever way is needed, but even in that “official” setting, I keep finding myself simply sitting down to chat.  Now, there is nothing wrong with chatting.  In fact, it’s necessary to get to know others more intimately, but it can’t stop there. First Corinthians has much to say about spiritual gifts.  At one point when Paul is on the subject, he says “When you assemble…..let all things be done for edification” (1 Cor. 14:26).  Edification means building one another up, and since all things are to be done for the purpose of the gospel, I believe he means to build each other up in the gospel.  I have to wonder what my goal is when I speak with Lindsey or any of my friends for any length of time and talk far more about myself than our mighty Savior who gives us all things.

I have a friend I call each morning at 6:30 to make sure she is out of bed (her request–I’m not some Nazi).  Instead of our usual light chat one day, I shared with her some insights I had that morning while studying God’s word, and we had a beautiful 30 minute conversation.  She took me even further in my understanding of God’s goodness, and I was so grateful I had not simply hung up the phone after saying “Good morning.”

This is making me have a different focus on my friendships.  I am realizing I need to be more intentional about focusing all conversations on God, not waste my time talking so I feel like I had an outlet.  Do any of you have ways that you specifically try to do this in your own relationships?  I would love your help in growing in this area.

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I, the Lord Your God, Am Holy Friday, Feb 15 2008

I have a confession to make.  The book of Leviticus and I have had less than a close relationship in my short lifetime.  Each time I come to this book, I come with groanings.  I have always felt it was redundant, boring, and confusing.  Since beginning my inductive study of the Bible, though, I came this time with a renewed hope that I would see something I have been missing.  Unfortunately, my study until a few days ago gave me a renewed bitterness for the book.  I have found myself most mornings saying, “There are so many types of sacrifices.  What is the difference?  It seems like they are calling the sacrifices different names but they all serve the same purpose,” or “This seems crazy!  Why are people with leprosy or women who give birth unclean and then have to make a sin offering?  It doesn’t seem like they did anything wrong.”

Each time I begin spouting off questions like this, my loving husband will say something like, “Court, why does this all make you so angry?  Are you angry because you feel like this is hindering you having a gospel-centered life or because you feel you deserve to have God’s knowledge?”  Ouch!  This poignant question always reveals one of my greatest heart issues–a pursuit of knowledge instead of a pursuit of Christ.

As always, when I feel like I am in a spiritual valley, God reveals Himself to me in a magnificent way.  The past few mornings it has been through two chapters in Leviticus.  In chapter 19, God is giving the Israelites several “do’s and don’ts,” and he followed almost every paragraph with the words, “I am the Lord your God.”  Earlier in the same chapter, He says, “I the Lord your God am holy.”  As I was reading this, my mind went to Romans 9:20.  Paul is addressing some questions the Romans are sure to ask regarding God’s sovereignty, and he responds with “Who are you, O man, who answers back to God?”  I am not holy.  I am just a human with a sinful nature and a feeble mind.  The Holy Spirit convicted me of the sin of pridefulness in my heart that is exhibited each time I want to question God’s motives for doing something.  I am not to question Him but to trust Him in all His goodness.  He is the creator, a God of order, and a God who works all things together for the good of those who love Him.  Who do I think I am?

The answer to the question of who I really am came to me as I was reading chapter 20.  In this chapter, God tells the Israelites the consequences of breaking some of these commands.  Almost every time the consequence is death or being cut off from Him.  As I looked at each sin, I knew I had committed almost all of them in some form, and I was able to rejoice once again for the core of the gospel message–I, a vile sinner, deserve nothing more than death and the wrath of God; however, in His infinite goodness and mercy, God provided a way for me to stand in His presence.  He sent His Son, who was sinless and holy, to be the one and only needed sacrifice to take away all those sins for eternity.  Now, because of that amazing grace and Jesus interceding for me, I, detestable, abhorrent, and guilty though I was, will one day stand before my great God and Savior who has taken away the sins of the world!  There is no praise that can go high enough!

Even though I don’t understand much of Leviticus, I’m grateful that God was kind to remind me that even this difficult book shows His grace and mercy in a multitude of ways.

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The Ordinary Life of an Ordinary Man Friday, Aug 17 2007

Before I begin, I want you all to know how much I love, respect, and cherish my wife.  If you haven’t read it, she left a comment on my last post that reminded me again how amazing she is.  This remarkable woman sacrifices so much every day for me and for our kids, yet she took the time to honor me publicly.  How I love her and thank God for her!

And now to the post…

I grew up loving movies, novels, and comic books.  I loved the thrill of adventure, the draw of the spectacular, and especially the attractiveness of the unbelievable.  In comic books, I loved finding not your everyday heroes, but superheroes.  In novels and movies, I loved science fiction like Star Trek or Michael Crichton novels.  I loved off-the-wall action like Mission Impossible or James Bond.  I was so drawn to the amazing, that I have spent much of my life imagining myself in spectacular situations, saving people, being a mutant with cool powers, flying in space, recording an album, or being on TV.  I never wanted to be ordinary.  No, I wanted to be extraordinary.

Now, I work in a cube in an office building that feels suspiciously like Dilbert.  I live in a two bedroom apartment where the air conditioning isn’t even worth acknowledging.  Both of the two cars we own threaten to fall apart at any second.  I’m not a celebrity.  And, as far as I know, I don’t have any superpowers.  I am plain ordinary.  This may seem ridiculous, but I’ve spent so much of my life imagining saving the day or being a household name that living an everyday life feels like a letdown.  I sometimes look around and wonder, “Is this really it?”

The funny thing is that I don’t really think I’m alone.  I’ve heard countless stories of people my age and older who have expressed similar sentiments about how life isn’t nearly as interesting as an adult as we all thought it would be.  Just think about the answer you get when you ask any kid what they’re going to be when they grow up: firefighter, astronaut, actor, ballerina, etc.  Where’s the lifelong dream to be a bank teller, garbage man, or factory worker?  Almost all of us start with big dreams and then end up somewhere much less grandiose than we might have wished.  Why is this experience so common?

Two responses come to mind as I work through this in my own life.  First, I once heard a godly man discussing the different ways God has worked through history to reveal himself and save sinners.  He talked about Adam, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Moses, David, the prophets, etc.  In the midst of this, he mentioned that it’s easy to look at the Bible and think that there were exciting, miraculous things happening every day.  But, as he pointed out, these types of things were actually atypical.  There were many times years, decades, or centuries between a grandiose display of God’s power in the world.  Most of God’s people in Bible times never saw the giving of the Law or a man rise from the dead or anything like that.  Most people just lived ordinary lives in faith, looking to the promises of God.  So I draw comfort from the fact that things really aren’t too different now.

Second, and this draws from the first, these ordinary lives are not called to be extraordinary, but to be faithful.  And in that faithfulness, we trust in God’s promises.  Without wanting to enter into any debate about the end times, the most pressing and important promise we have to look forward to at this point in history is the return of Jesus.  It reminds me of the title of a Chris Rice song: “Run the Earth, Watch the Sky.”  We’re here on Earth living out what feels to be a mundane life, yet we constantly look to the sky to see the Lord returning on the clouds.  And to bring this discussion back around to where I started, it reminds me of a Switchfoot song that says, “We want more than this world’s got to offer…and everything inside screams for second life.”  I think we want so much more out of this life because we feel like there ought to be so much more.  But this life isn’t all there is.  There is a new creation that everything around us is groaning for, though we don’t always realize it.  And while we should learn to be content with our lives, it’s not a contentment that says this is the best it will get.  It’s not.  But it’s probably the best we’ll have in this life.  I am convinced the yearnings we feel for greater joy are really God given cravings for “second life.”

In the end, the ordinary lives we lead are exactly the lives God has given us.  Resentment about them is a lack of faith in God, for we are saying that what God has given us isn’t good enough for us.  But a kind of discontentment that says “I don’t want this life forever–I want something better” looks to the sky while we run on this earth, serving Jesus with our bodies and minds.  May it be so for you and me that we live every day to the fullest service and enjoyment we can while looking to sky eagerly awaiting Jesus to give us rest for our weary souls.

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Why I “Left the Ministry” Wednesday, Aug 15 2007

This post has been a long time coming.  Many have asked over the last nine months why I stopped going to seminary, stepped down from vocational ministry, and went into the business world.  My answer is neither extremely easy or simple.  But I will try to lay it out there as concisely and straightforwardly as possible.

I first went into vocational ministry as an interim music minister in Paducah when I was twenty years old.  I filled that position for sixteen months until a godly man was found to take over permanently.  Incidentally, this took place a month before Court and I packed ourselves up to move to Louisville for seminary.  Within a month of relocating, I accepted the position of music and media director at a church thirty minutes from the seminary.  So, there I was: a young seminary student, eager to learn and serve in ministry to others.  But what I know now that I didn’t know then was how stained by sin I was (and still am, really).  I hid the fact that one of the reasons I wanted to go to seminary was so that I could be the first person in my family to earn a master’s degree.  I hid the fact that my desire to “minister” was really a desire to appear wise and holy before a bunch of people who “obviously” weren’t as smart as me.  The only thing I was ministering to was my sinfulness.

But I didn’t realize this at the time.  I very, very foolishly had a high opinion of myself and the giftings God had given me.  It took a year and a half for me to begin to feel the rising levels of bitterness and discontentedness in my heart.  This, I’m sure, wasn’t helped by working midnights on the side, but I simply used that as my excuse.  I became quite convinced that there was something missing in my life and I finally began to see what it was, beginning with a conference I attended.  What was I missing?  Christ and him crucified.  To put it starkly, I saw in myself a pitiful faith that didn’t look to Christ, but looked to and depended on myself. 

Over the next months, I discovered more and more this horrible pattern in my life.  Yet, sadly, instead of humbling me and growing my faith, I became even more arrogant because I thought I knew what was really going on.  So, I became even angrier, which showed itself in decreasing love for others and an extremely divisive spirit.  After seeing myself grow worse and after a rather terrible experience (brought about by my own actions, by the way), I realized that my lack of faith and flat-out spiritual immaturity disqualified me from being in any kind of leadership position in a church.  I knew that I had no business doing what I was doing.  So, I announced my intention to step down because of my great pride and immaturity.  I remember one gentleman whom I respect greatly telling me that the heart I had expressed in my announcement demonstrated that I should be in ministry, because my actions showed humility and a heart that could lead others.  I know what he meant, but I knew that even if my actions had been humble, it was only the tip of the iceberg regarding the sinful tendencies that shrouded me.  I saw that I was young, both in spiritual immaturity and actual years.  I saw that I had only the smallest sliver of faith where my faith should have trusted and thanked God for every single thing in my life.  I saw that I was much more concerned with my glory than his glory.

As for seminary, I realized that my problems were spiritual in nature and I needed spiritual healing.  Though seminary offers many great things, it is only an academic institution.  It is not a church.  And it is not a place for spiritual growth.  That can happen, but that’s not what it really does.  I didn’t need to learn more stuff–I needed King Jesus.   So, I stopped.  Besides, I was just really tired of school and I was doing terribly because of it.  So, it just seemed to be a good time given all the circumstances at the time.

So, what was the new plan with no “ministry” and no seminary?  Well, basically the same as it is now.  First, to become a Christian in the fullest sense of that noble name–not a seminary student or a minister or a pastor or a husband or a father.  I wanted to gladly and palpably wear Christ.  Second, to learn how to minister without “the ministry.”  You may have noticed that I put “Left the Ministry” in quotation marks in the title.  That’s because every Christian ministers.  Every Christian serves.  And so, we’re trying to learn how to serve and minster without a title or a paycheck.  Third, to grow in faith in the only thing worth having faith in: God the Father, Son, and Spirit.  Without faith, it is impossible to please God.  Faith is our only door to a righteousness that makes us right with God.  Faith is the only thing that will get us through any circumstance, whether high or low.  To put it differently, I needed to learn how to trust moment by moment in the cross of Christ.  I needed to learn that any good work I did was a good work prepared beforehand by God in me and for me to do.  I needed to see each time I tried to prove myself, I was showing that I wasn’t really proving Christ.  I needed to learn what it means to love those that hate me or think little of me, to love the “sinners” all around me.  Fourth, I needed to know what it meant to be a “normal” Christian.  My Christianity had been defined by my status as a seminarian or a minister.  I needed to see if I could be a Christian in the place where most Christians exist: the real world.  I’ll talk a little bit more about that tomorrow

Well, I may have left some stuff out.  And I may have explained some things badly.  This is a difficult thing for me to write, because it still strikes my heart.  I’m ashamed of myself.  If you were there for any of what I described, then please forgive me.  But I hope you’ll see that this is just me exposing my heart to you.  And I hope it answers some questions some of you may have had.

Still, some of you may think that I did the wrong thing.  If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts because I’m convinced it was exactly what was needed.  Either way, no church needed someone like me leading it.  And no seminary class was going to fix my cold heart.  It’s down to me and Jesus (which includes, by the way, his body–thank God for Sojourn Church!).  And I’m praying that he’ll change me to make me like him. 

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What I Think About Sports Tuesday, Aug 14 2007

So, I’m not really much of a sports guy when you get right down to it.  And sometimes that’s a little embarassing when you’re in a room full of guys talking about the end of Michael Vick’s career and you only have a vague recollection of who that even is.  To many, I look like a geek who doesn’t like sports because he was a band nerd or something.  Which…I was.  Nonetheless, it’s time to come clean: I actually like sports.

Again, this may be a bit of a shock to some of you that know me pretty well.  This is coming from the guy who has never intentionally turned on a sports game unless it was associated with finals or championships–and then only rarely.  But I still like them.  I enjoy the thrill of watching a close game or an amazing play.  I enjoy seeing people scream their brains out about a little ball.  I enjoy competition.  If a game is ever on, I really enjoy it.

What makes me different is that I don’t much care to keep up with it.  Besides, my brother Paul kept up with it well enough for the both of us.  And I think there was a small part of me that felt the need to go down a different path, even though I really like sports.  So, he did the sports thing and I did the music thing.  But we still played baseball out back or basketball down the street or football when we had enough people or volleyball or whatever.  And I loved every second of it.

So, why in the world am I taking the time to write about this on a blog?  I really don’t have a good answer.  Perhaps it’s to defend my manhood to all who would question the manliness of a man who doesn’t watch sports.  Perhaps it’s because I couldn’t come up with anything else to talk about.  Probably a little of each.  But I think it’s mainly to say that I don’t watch sports because I can’t get myself to care enough.  I really don’t care who wins the super bowl.  I’m not that concerned with who the best quarterback or pitcher is.  Home run records matter little to me.  I just don’t care.

So, here’s where I’m headed with this.  For those of you that keep up with sports, I have a question: Why?  Why does it consume so easily?  Because at the end of the day, why do we focus so much on things on TV and stats and whatever else and care so little about the God that saves sinners?  This certainly isn’t about finger pointing.  My weaknesses are movies, books, and blogs.  And I could’ve picked anything.  But I wonder why we spend so much time on trivial pursuits and don’t pursue King Jesus.  This isn’t a rhetorical question–I actually want to know what you think.  Because I want to be sharpened, too.  I want your comments to pierce to the heart of my idolatries that pull me from presenting myself to God as a living sacrifice.  So, please, please, comment.  And I hope to interact with your comments.

At the end of the day and despite the title, this really has nothing to do with sports.  I’m inviting you to examine yourselves as I examine myself to find the places where we choose sports, books, music, chores, jobs, movies, clothes, news, etc., etc. over serving God.  It may seem small or trivial.  It may be easy to think that it’s just a little diversion or it’s not a big deal.  But I’m not so sure.  And I’d like to know what you think.

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Ministry from Home Sunday, Jul 29 2007

Bill and I have been trying to have a more relaxed schedule in the evenings so we can focus on ministry opportunities.  We want our children to see us doing things to serve others in our spare time instead of sitting on the couch.  Some ideas we have come up with are writing notes of encouragement, preparing freezer meals, knocking on neighbors doors for fellowship, and helping our brothers and sisters at church with needs they have (i.e. moving or babysitting).  We are a bit limited, though, since it’s not easy to get out much with two little ones, especially considering nap and bed times.  What do some of you do to serve others from your home?  We really want to work hard in this area and would appreciate your input.

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Spiritual Drought Wednesday, Jun 20 2007

Bill and I are in such a wonderful place right now.  He is only working one full-time job.  He’s home by 3:45 four days a week and by 10:15 on Fridays.  He makes good money and has good benefits.  And we hope to buy a house in the fall.  We also have two beautiful, fun children and we’re debt free.  All we’ve known during our marriage is working constantly (weekends included), being in debt, moving around a lot, being tired, and not seeing each other often.  We should be on cloud nine, right?  Not exactly.  Actually, we’re both very discontent.

Don’t get me wrong, we are almost always discontent because of our sinful hearts, but this seems different.  I think it is coming from the Holy Spirit.  Maybe I should instead call what we’re feeling conviction or a stirring.  When Bill stepped down from vocational ministry, we were sure we were doing the right thing (and we still believe stepping down for a season is good), but we have gotten too comfortable.  God is exposing our hearts, showing us that we were seeking after peace and comfort and prosperity apart from him.  Instead of seeing financial stability and daily regularity as a means to serve God, we see them as an end in themselves.  We have the easy life now with everything we ever thought we would want.  Yet, we are both going through a huge spiritual drought that we sincerely hope God is using to draw us back to him.

For a few months now, we have both been impacted greatly by things we’ve studied during our morning quiet time, sermons we’ve heard, books we’ve read, and things people have said, but for some reason we’re having a hard time feeling passion for God in all his glory.  God doesn’t seem like a reality to us.  I have to be honest in saying that we are scared.  We earnestly want to desire God, but though we pray for it so, so, so often, God has not given exactly what we thought he would give.  This is definitely causing us to cautiously evaluate our lives.  I say cautiously because there are examples in Scripture when God took blessings away even though the subject had done nothing wrong (as with Job, for example), so it’s dangerous to automatically assume we’re being disciplined.  However, I’ve never had a heart like Job is descibed to have, and I certainly don’t feel bold enough to claim I am righteous.  We both see our sinfulness everywhere.

Here are two things we see as possibilities.  They go hand in hand.  One, we are not serving enough.  Or perhaps it would be better to say that we’re not serving anyone at all other than ourselves with our selfish desires.  We are not helping those who are hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison (Matt. 25: 31-46).  We are not earnestly seeking to tell others about salvation found only in Christ.  The Bible constantly and consistently calls God’s people to a life that is filled with outward actions that verify and testify about the inward realities of changed hearts.  How can we understand Jesus’ love if we don’t daily display that love and go out of our way to reach people?  Our lack of service shows our unwillingness to humble ourselves and become like Jesus in every way.

The other possibility is that we are being like Jonah, running from the calling God has given us.  We like the easy life.  We don’t really care about the path we’ve been called to as long as we make good money, have a mini-van, and live in a house with a half-acre lot (preferably bigger) and playground in the backyard.  We know the giftings and the calling Bill has received, yet we’re not following them.  In the name of “taking some time off to mature and grow in godliness,” we’ve firmly planted our feet in the American dream, slowly drifting toward the frivolity and futility of the world and away from the God who saved us.

It has been suggested to us that we should just be content with where we are, because God placed us there; we should understand that he is pleased with us and loves us.  It’s certainly true that he loves us and is pleased with us because we’re clothed with Christ.  But we are still disobedient children living in the flesh, “prone to wander…prone to leave the God we love.”  And we think we’ve wandered.  We may be totally off the mark with all of this, but we do know we need prayer from those of you who love us.  We are afraid and discouraged, and we need as much support and encouragement we can get from all of you.  Also, please feel free to point out tendencies you see in our lives that might be getting in the way of a rich spiritual life.  We want our Jesus and the purity He calls us to! 

Courtney (with Bill)

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Cool Runnings Wednesday, Jun 13 2007

As some of you know, I started running about a month ago using an interval training from a website called Cool Runnings.  Last Monday was the first day I was supposed to run 20 minutes straight, and I was sure I wouldn’t make it.  I usually listen to Bill’s MP3 player while I run, and “Grace Unmeasured” (Sovereign Grace) was playing when I was about 15 minutes in.  I had one lap to go and said out loud, “I can’t do it anymore.  I have to quit.”  Almost before the words were out of my mouth, the lyrics of the song said, “Grace unending all my days to give me strength to run this race.”  How awesome!  God reminded me through that song that I’m right, I can’t do it.  But it is He who gives me the strength to do all things, so in Him I found the strength to finish.  Praise God that even the small things like running for 20 minutes are important to Him, and praise Him for His strength!   

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Stumbling Toward Humility Monday, Jun 4 2007

Before I begin, I want to apologize for not posting much lately.  Between being out of town for a few days last week and trying to get back into the swing of things, the blog has fallen to the wayside.  But, we’re back!

Now, I want to pick up on a topic that Courtney started almost two weeks ago on humility.  It’s not my desire to repeat the content of what Court said.  Instead, I wish to supplement it.  So if you haven’t read her post, you should do so before proceeding with this one.  What I want to do is take a little deeper look into what the Bible has to say about confessing sins, how that relates to pride, and why Courtney would call every single Christian to “make yourself, not just let yourself, be vulnerable.”

I think it’s pretty well agreed upon in Christian circles that we ought to confess our sins to God.  Additionally, I think we can also agree that we ought to confess our sin to the specific person we have sinned against and pursue reconciliation.  There are many passages that support these conclusions.  Confessing to God – Psalm 32 (esp. v. 5), “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.”  Psalm 51, where David confesses his great sinfulness in his affair with Bathsheba and murder of Uriah.  1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”  Confessing to those sinned against - Matthew 5:23-24, “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar.  First, go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.”  I wouldn’t dispute these at all.  But I think there is another aspect of confession that we oftentimes ignore.

Near the end of the book of James is an interesting little conlclustion written to believers: “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16).  Now, in the context, it’s directly speaking of someone who is apparently sick because of an unconfessed sin.  But, interestedly, James tells them to confess to one another without any mention of sinning against a particular person.  In my reading, this seems to suggest that there is a third reason to confess our sins: so that others would pray for us and we could be healed/forgiven/released.  Perhaps the physical pain could be the pain felt by the psalmist in Psalm 32.  Perhaps it’s depression.  Perhaps it’s an actual medical disease.  I don’t really know.  Nonetheless, James says we should confess our sins to each other.

This is the direction that Courtney was trying to point us in her post.  It’s (relatively) easy to confess to God in a silent prayer.  It’s a little harder to confess you sin to the person against whom you sinned.  But to confess your sins (that they presumably know nothing about) to other Christians just so they can pray for you?  That’s hard.  That’s humiliating.  Who really wants to tell others “I look lustfully at women all the time” or “I got so angry at someone that I wanted to hurt them” or “I’m really having trouble believing in the promises of God” or “I get really tired of being a Christian”?  I certainly don’t.  Yet, James calls us to do it.  Why?  I think it’s because our hidden sins are the ones that incapacitate us the most.  We fool ourselves by thinking that our sins aren’t that big of a deal.  And we do it by hiding them.  Perhaps we “tell them to God,” but then we just go and do it again.  Hence, we are living in our sin.  Or perhaps more appropriately, we’re dying in our sin–killing ourself with our own sin that we refuse to let go of.  Puritan John Owen says that the Christian must “be killing sin or it will be killing you.”  If we hold onto our sin, we are letting it eat us away.  At best, we’re neglecting the new life given to us through the Gospel.  At worst, we’re fooling ourselves by saying that we’ve been saved in the first place.  First John 1:8 says, “If we say we have no sin [or want others to think we don't have sin], we decieve ourselves [and others] and the truth is not in us.”  That’s scary.

So, why am I harping on about this when Courtney already said basically the same thing?  Let’s turn to Jesus’ words on this:
To some who were confident of their own righteousness, and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men–robbers, evildoers, adulterers–or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’  But the tax collector stood at a distance.  He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’  I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God.  For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” -Luke 18:9-14

Most of us are just like the Pharisee.  “I go to church three times a week and give a tenth of all I get.  I read my Bible every day.  I’m glad I’m not like that rapist or mass murderer or arrogant preacher or bad parent or…”  I think I’ve made my point.  Yet the truth is that we’re sinners in great need of mercy.  And that will never change in this life.  We need something beyond ourselves and we always will.  We need grace that will (slowly) kill the sin in us, even though our flesh will always want to continue sinning.  And I think (along with Court, who has taught me much about this)a very real way for us to do this  is to stop pretending that everything is peachy-keen.  We need to grow up and realize we’re not as special or smart or spiritual as we’d like to think.  And we need to tell other Christians about it, so that we will be humbled and they can pray that God will humble us, which will probably not feel very good.  But only our pride will be hurt.  And maybe our bodies.  But God will be renewing our Spirit so that we will delight in him instead of ourselves.  When we have pride in ourselves, we’re finding enjoyment in ourselves instead of God.  The Bible calls that idolatry.

Ultimately, Courtney and I are talking about being vulnerable, about confessing our sins and weaknesses to one another because we’re so dang proud of ourselves, of our knowledge, of what we’re giving to God.  In so doing, we make null and void the very Gospel that God offers.  That Gospel says, “You have nothing to offer God.  You are dead and filthy and worthy only of wrath from one infinitely more beautiful and righteous than you.  Yet God killed his Son, unleashing his fury on him instead of you, punishing him who was innocent because you love your sin so much.  But God raised his Son from the dead to prove that Christ’s righteousness and perfection were far better than yours.  He did it to show you his love, because without Christ taking your place, the only thing to look forward to is death and misery.  And since his Son took your place, you can take his place as a son of God!  This comes not by working harder or praying more or looking more holy, but by loving and trusting for every single thing the God who saved you .  If you try to rest in your own ‘holiness’ or retain some feeble notion that you can earn your way into the Father’s favor, then you are not trusting God.  You’re trusting yourself instead.  Your only hope is found in the Christ who died for you.”  Are we ready for others to see the “deep, dark” side of us so that they can pray for us?  Are we ready to be humiliated (or humbled, if that’s too strong of a term for you) so that Christ can be exalted?  When we exalt ourselves or try to improve our image in front of others, we’re being just like the Pharisee from the parable.  And he’s not the one who “went home justified.”

So, let it be known that I am truly terrible person.  Usually when I say that, people try to convince me that I’m wrong.  I promise you I’m right.  If you don’t believe me, just let me know.  I’ll tell you every reason why I’m despicable.  And if you do see good things in me, it’s only because God’s grace has worked in me to make me more like Christ in some small way.  Ultimately, any good I do is because I “am [God's] workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared beforehand that [I] should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:10).  That’s the only reason I do any good.  That’s the only reason I even feel like I can type this post right now.  It’s not because I’m better that you.  Trust me.  But I am in Christ.  I don’t know why, but I am.  So pray for me, that God would humble me.  Pray for Courtney, that he would do the same for her.  And know that I am praying for you, that you would be humbled as well, so that Christ would be exalted in all of us.

I know this post is long, but I want to finish with a quote from a pastor named Michael Lawrence that I think is helpful:
When you meet up with [other believers], don’t just say vague things like, “I’m really struggling, so please pray with me.”  Find a couple of people that you can say to, “I’m really struggling with ________” and then embarass yourself.  Be specific.  Drag the sin out into the light of day.  Then allow that brother or sister to preach the Gospel to you.  And hear the Gospel.  And believe the Gospel.  And know the freedom that the Gospel brings.  The Gospel shines a light on our sin and it frees us from our sin.”

May we hear the Gospel, believe it, and know its freedom!  I struggle every day to do so.  Thanks for your patience with this lengthy post.  And I invite any comments, suggestions, corrections, or just thoughts you may have.

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Josiah Thursday, May 31 2007

2 years ago today, my friend Annalee (the Cochran Crew from our sidebar) gave birth to her 2nd son, Josiah.  7 weeks and 6 days later, Josiah left this earth to be with his eternal father.  Annalee has posted a testimony she gave about the difficult time she and her husband Brian went through and are still going through and the grace God is faithfully showing them.  I would encourage each of you to read her post and be amazed and humbled by this woman’s faith and our almighty God whose wisdom is beyond all understanding.  Glory be to God! 

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