Grace is What Works

There is a pragmatist within each of us.

Bent toward the rational and the results,this inner dweller unintentionally opposes some of God’s most profound movements in our lives.

This logic-loving, get-the-job done approach to life, a staple of the Western society in which I’ve grown up, struggles to grasp the life-Creator, who strangely–yet frequently–insists on operating in “obviously” impractical ways.

Grace is the finest of examples.

The careful reader of the New Testament will quickly observe the inadequacy of human efforts toward salvation. However, that doesn’t stop us from trying! Bent on saving ourselves, proving ourselves, and sustaining ourselves, responsibility and duty–praiseworthy qualities within themselves–kick into hyper-gear.  In the process, pride awakens and pressure builds, all the while we are unaware that we are building brick walls between God’s salvation and our souls.

Legalistic tendencies seem wired into the human hardware.

The hymn-writer called grace “amazing”. We call it “unbelievable”. We may never use the word, but we feel incapable of grasping the concept, and embracing it feels even less likely.  That is the pragmatist within us, speaking with conviction: “Grace is impractical.”  You hear it in the push back we feel obliged to offer against grace, particularly religious or responsible citizens: “What about discipline? Grace alone is too soft; it won’t take people where they need to be. It takes more than grace to transform a life.”

Grace is not practical enough for our liking.

Or perhaps we are not nearly practical enough.

The dynamic at work here is something like John Piper describes in “Desiring God”, a book carrying the subtitle of “Meditations of a Christian Hedonist”. Piper argues that hedonism, the pursuit of pleasure, is an attitude built into the very human nature. Other than spiraling our souls into self-destruction, this pleasure-seeking drive is what drives the soul toward God.  Paradoxically, Piper suggests that the reason we get lost along the way is that we are not nearly hedonistic enough!  Settling for watered down forms of satisfaction, our pursuit of pleasure is revealed as too weak, rather than too strong. We chase happiness like slackers, at the expense of our souls.

C.S. Lewis was developing the same thought when he famously observed:

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

So back to where we began: We resist grace because it seems out-of-touch. “This won’t work in real life,” we critique.  Even more common might be the unspoken thought that Christ’s role in our lives is to provide a much-needed “reset” button. By his death and resurrection, he presses it and we sigh with relief.  We can take another kick at getting things right, in practical and reasonable ways, of course, powered by the fuel of self.

In this sense, we are part of a rich heritage of Christians who don’t get it.  Paul’s question to such folks:

Who has cast an evil spell on you? For the meaning of Jesus Christ’s death was made as clear to you as if you had seen a picture of his death on the cross. 2 Let me ask you this one question: Did you receive the Holy Spirit by obeying the law of Moses? Of course not! You received the Spirit because you believed the message you heard about Christ. 3 How foolish can you be? After starting your Christian lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort? (Gal.3:1-3)

Beyond the Galatian goofballs, is anyone else’s “reset” button worn out from use?

“Seeking free-flowing forgiveness so we can take another futile kick at life on our terms”: Give me Impractical for $1000, Alex.

And there’s the rub.

Grace, in all its mystery and apparent irrationality, is the most practical of solutions to the human predicament.  The God we dismiss as idealistic or illogical actually, shock of shockers, knows what He’s doing, with His “power move” of offering freedom through surrender and victory through defeat.  Much to our surprise, perhaps chagrin, grace works.

In fact, it is only grace that works.

YOUR TURN: Why does humanity buck so hard against God’s grace?  What do you grasp about grace today that God has faithfully taught you over time?

Please leave your comment below, and enter the conversation.

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Miraculously Natural

With three daughters under the age of four, I have read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” more times than the average man. For the uninformed, this is the tale of caterpillar who breaks free from his egg with a serious hunger. After five days of colourfully-sketched fruit, he goes on a dietary tear, eating his way through desserts and delicacies, meats and treats. A stomachache lands him back at a green leaf feast. By this time, our tiny protagonist has become a pudgy worm on the verge of cocooning. The finale of the book begins on the second-last page:

Then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out, and… (final page turn here)

He was a beautiful butterfly!

 

[The story can be viewed HERE, if you wish.]

A colourful story of how worms become butterflies, this children’s book has yet to educate me on what really happens.  How does a slinking and slimy caterpillar become a soaring and stunning butterfly?  What magical tailor lives in that cocoon to design, craft, and attach those wings to that thing?

It is no error that we use the word metamorphosis to describe this process:

A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

No exaggeration is necessary to tie the term “miracle” to such a definition, yet the reminder quickly follows: “This is natural.”

Miraculously natural.

A paradoxical phrase. Continue reading

Fruitful

The Hearts of Our Shepherds

Sunday’s service at our church featured an interview with our Shepherds (elders) in place of the usual sermon.

“The Hearts of Our Shepherds,” was aimed at providing opportunity for these men to share some of the themes dominating recent meetings, along with some of the more personal desires and prayers that each of them hold for our congregation.

By all counts, it was meaningful.

The interview closed with me asking each Shepherd what we, his church family, could pray for on his behalf. These men of God offered responses like wisdom and clarity, opportunities for greater influence with non-Christian friends, renewal within our church family, and significant personal spiritual growth.

Prior to praying, one Shepherd turned the question back toward me.

What could the church that I serve pray for me?

Springboarding off of a few of the Shepherds’ ideas, I described the burden that exists within leadership. There is a pressure involved in the awareness that many look to me for direction or inspiration or steadiness. Many times, however, I aim to provide these, with less confidence than I wish in my own abilities, focus, or strength.  It feels like the job could always be done better.

Even as I spoke these words, I was seeing in the congregation educators, healthcare workers, managers, social workers, financiers, and more. I felt a measure of guilt as my eyes beheld them and my mouth shared those words, as if I were suggesting that my role of leadership was “so important” that I needed extra support to bear it, as if I faced unique challenges that require unusual backing.  No such sentiment existed within me, but something that I couldn’t identify rubbed inside me in that moment.

Reflecting later, I found myself considering my ministry role in terms of task lists and skill sets.  All those people I’d noted have their own similar loads to carry within their own roles, and they aim to possess highly developed skills and to execute their tasks with integrity and excellence that demand discipline and focus.  Of course, I regularly set myself toward such goals within my job too, but it dawned on me that this was not at the heart of my prayer request.

So what was?

Queue up our weekly Small Group.

That evening’s text for discussion was John 15:1-11. After our usual “telling of the story”, we zoomed in on the text by using JB Phillips’ paraphrase:

1-8 “I am the real vine, my Father is the vine-dresser. He removes any of my branches which are not bearing fruit and he prunes every branch that does bear fruit to increase its yield. Now, you have already been pruned by my words. You must go on growing in me and I will grow in you. For just as the branch cannot bear any fruit unless it shares the life of the vine, so you can produce nothing unless you go on growing in me. I am the vine itself, you are the branches. It is the man who shares my life and whose life I share who proves fruitful. For the plain fact is that apart from me you can do nothing at all. The man who does not share my life is like a branch that is broken off and withers away. He becomes just like the dry sticks that men pick up and use for the firewood. But if you live your life in me, and my words live in your hearts, you can ask for whatever you like and it will come true for you. This is how my Father will be glorified—in your becoming fruitful and being my disciples.

9-11 “I have loved you just as the Father has loved me. You must go on living in my love. If you keep my commandments you will live in my love just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and live in his love. I have told you this so that you can share my joy, and that your happiness may be complete.

In sharing the portions of that text that spoke most personally to us, one group member noted that the first eight verses are heavily metaphorical, except for one blatant-as-can-be line:

For the plain fact is that apart from me you can do nothing at all.

And that quick comment decoded my earlier thoughts.

In any role, there are skills to be had and honed. Effort and excellence, organization and output–these are all relevant to discussions of successful leadership and efficient productivity, and I find myself intrigued and interested by such dialog.

But in matters of lasting fruitfulness, the type which ripples through eternity, an infinitely higher concern is connection to Jesus.

Is our connection to him substantial enough that his life flows through us?

That is the only question needing an answer and the only goal requiring a pursuit.

If it is, then the possibilities for life-giving impact on our world are as vast as God Himself. Anything less shrinks life to where the best I can hope for is an appearance of success, suggested by personal pleasure perceived or social recognition received.  An anonymous quote I read said, “Without Jesus, one can be certainly be successful.  But being fruitful is another thing altogether.”

I think that is the rub I felt on Sunday, and if I could rephrase my clumsy prayer request to be more accurate, that’s what I’d say:

Pray that I so connect with Jesus that His life flows freely through me, bearing much fruit.

Amen to that.

Safe

Last week, my wife gave birth to our third daughter.

As I held this sweet and tiny bundle today, she sneezed several times, creating snotted nose and running eyes. Unfazed by such substances (Super-Dad I am!), I began swiping and wiping “sans Scotties“. My daughter held stone-still as I cleaned her nose.  But my movement toward her eyes caused a forceful flinch. An audible word escaped my mouth:

“Safe.”

Gently, I urged her toward stillness, “You are safe, my dear one.”

And she took me at my word.

As she stilled, I re-approached. She locked her gaze on me and watched intently as I de-gunked her eyes.  Not a jump, nor a jitter.

Her small shining eyes upon me made wonder:

  • What can she possibly grasp on this day?
  • Can she know with confidence that her Dad will do her no damage?
  • How certain can she be that this still-blurred figure holding her will bring healing rather than harm?

Truths be told: Very little, she cannot, and uncertain at best.

Those dark reflective eyes displayed my face and forced forward a question: How still can YOU lie?

The everything-Maker and forever-Father envisions for us dreams that dwarf our drafts.  He then moves, absolutely aware of what is required to transport us from our “here” to His “there”.  Intimate inspiration, divine discipline, and everything in between: He will use every means necessary to move us.  God’s touch is precise, His nudging as nuanced as need be. He can wield the stick, tend the heart, or de-gunk the eyes, whatever it takes to poke and prod us toward our destiny of overflowing and overwhelming life.

And our “forever issue” is trust.

  • Can I trust Him?
  • Will He hurt me?
  • Does He have my best interests in mind?

Today, my friends, take this to heart: You are safe in God’s hands.

In fact, a more secure spot does not exist.

Rest in it. Revel in it. Look upward at the still-blurred Presence of your Creator, and dare to take Him at His word:

For I know the plans I have for you: Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Call on me and come to me and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

Editing this post earlier, my nine-day-old daughter was still in my arms, silently studying my face. Was she certain of my love for her? After barely a week, she cannot know for sure. Yet her peaceful expression spoke to the childlike nature of faith: Here she was in her entirety, in my hands, awaiting me to lovingly touch and teach as I see fit.

That is what good fathers do.

That is what YOUR Father is moving to do today.

Hold still. Trust Him.

“You are safe, my dear one.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of One Mind: Christopher Hitchens and Jesus Christ

In his book “With”, Skye Jethani pushes readers to re-imagine the way they relate to God. Hanging his presentation on five prepositions, Jethani observes humanity’s strong inclinations toward four poor paths for God-connection:

1) Life Under God

2) Life Over God

3) Life From God

4) Life For God

Both older brothers and younger brothers, in the language of Luke 15, are represented here. The first and last approaches reveal the elder’s pursuit of righteousness, while the middle pair speak to the younger’s path of rebellion. As the parable teaches, there is more than one way to get lost. As C.S. Lewis said: “One road leads home and a thousand roads lead into the wilderness.” Or as Jethani argues: There are at least four wide paths to God that will not deliver you to that destination. But there remains one narrow path, a leads-to-life lane summarized in these three words: “Life With God”.

There are numerous reasons why I freely recommend this book; however, this post will focus on only one attention-grabbing section:

Voices from within the New Atheism movement, most notably Christopher Hitchens (pictured at left), Sam Harris, and Richard Dawkins, have leveled numerous criticisms at religion as an strongly negative force in our world. Many of these arguments are based on sentiments of frustration common even to God-lovers. Often, cases are stated forcefully with intellectual sharpness. It is not uncommon for people of faith to feel unsettled by such strong negativity, despite an inner sense that says something like, “I don’t have a satisfying response at this moment, but something in me says that this attack is not entirely accurate.”

Jethani shed light on such moments through the following section:

“Events like 9/11, and the holy finger-pointing that followed, give ammunition to critics of religion like avowed atheist Christopher Hitchens. The Vanity Fair columnist and author of the best-selling book ‘God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything’ makes a compelling case that religion adds to the fear in our world rather than reduces it. But an examination of Hitchens’ critique of religion shows that he is primarily reacting to the Life Under God posture held by many who claim religious labels.

In a debate on the merits of religion with former British Prime Minister Tony Blair (a committed Roman Catholic), Hitchens asked, ‘Is it good for the world to worship a deity that takes sides in wars and human affairs, to appeal to our fear and to our guilt? Is it good for the world?’

Blair responded by noting how religion also motivates many people toward good and charitable actions. He gave the Northern Ireland peace accords as an example. Hitchens pounced on the statement;

‘It’s very touching for Tony to say that he recently went to a meeting to bridge the religious divide in Northern Ireland, where does the religious divide come from? Four-hundred years and more in my own country of birth of people killing each other’s children depending on what kind of Christian they were.’

Hitchens went on to blame religion for blocking peace in the Middle East, for subjugating women in many societies, and for fueling the 1994 genocide in Rwanda–a country where 90% of the population claims to be Christian.

After the debate between Hitchens and Blair, the audience voted; 68% said that religion is a more destructive than benign force in the world.”

One part of me sighs at this point. Another part chimes in, “Yeah, but that isn’t really fair.” However, despite this inner conviction that some key information is being overlooked, I feel unable to respond. What is Hitchens missing?

Jethani clarified it for me: Hitchens’ attack isn’t actually zoomed in on genuine Christianity, as he might think. Rather, his cross-hairs rest on the first mistaken approach listed above: Life Under God. On this front, Jethani concedes:

“It is difficult to squabble with Christopher Hitchens’ evidence that traditional religion fuels violence, bigotry, and oppression, and therefore adds to the fear and suffering in our world. If Life Under God was intended to reduce our fears and provide greater control over our unpredictable world, it has proven to be an utter failure. Any way of relating to God predicated on fear and fighting for control cannot deliver us from what plagues humanity–namely, fear and fighting for control.”

The real twist?

“It may surprise some people, but at times Christopher Hitchens sounds a great deal like Jesus. Like Hitchens, Jesus frequently spoke out against the hypocrisy and harm inflicted by the religious system of his day.”

Yes, you read that rightly.

In at least this regard, Christopher Hitchens and Jesus Christ are of one mind. That said, it intrigues that one laid himself down, confident that the sacrifice would lead others into life, while the other spent himself in critique aimed at discrediting the former. The irony: Jesus is abundantly aware of the pathetic, even downright destructive, approaches that people take to God. He knows these things better than any, and it drove him to blaze a purified path to the Father. As much as Hitchens could observe, he felt compelled to label any path associated with a divine name as damned by default.

Jesus, on the other hand, lay himself down to redeem the wretched and to free the fools–both those shackled by ritualistic righteousness and reckless rebellion.

Along the way, you can be certain that he loves Christopher Hitchens deeply. And about some matters, he even speaks an “amen”.