Perceptions.

Have you ever noticed how your perceptions of something change the way you view it entirely?

A few years ago at CCU I took this class called Hermeneutics, which is a class all on how to properly read and interpret Scripture. One day in class, our teacher had us read a paragraph he threw onto the overhead projector. The paragraph talked about it being dark and stormy outside, about the cry of a baby, about a woman dying, and about a figure walking down a dark hallway. Initially our professor had us read the picture as if it was a murder mystery novel. Obviously, the figure walking down the hallway was the murderer, who killed the dead woman. The baby cried because it heard the screams of the dead woman, and the storm was simply to add a horrifying effect to the whole narrative.

But then, our professor told us to read the paragraph again, this time imagining it was the first chapter in a biographical work. It changed the whole outlook. Now, the baby crying is the main figure in the biography being born. Apparently, their mother died while giving birth, and the figure going down the hallway is the doctor, midwife, or maybe the husband.

The way we perceive someone or something makes all the difference.

Yesterday, I got a chance to read from John 5:19-29 and was really struck by something. In this particular teaching, Jesus is trying to tell those listening that He and the Father are one and the same; if you reject Jesus, you're rejecting God the Father and vice-versa. You can't pick one; You take all three persons of the godhead (let's give a shout-out to the Holy Spirit!) or none at all. The three members of the Trinity are that closely linked and a part of one another.

I don't know about You, but when I relate to God the Father, it's very much a fearful, reverential action (which isn't a bad thing, please understand). On the opposite end, when I relate to Christ or to the Holy Spirit, it's more of them being my "buddy" (again, not necessarily a bad thing). But the thing is this; God the Father isn't just mean or angry; He has a grounding in love and grace (see Exodus 34:6). Jesus and the Holy Spirit aren't just my friends, they also judge (see the above John 5 reference).

God is one and the same, so why do I view each member of the Trinity so differently?

I think there are a lot of theological implications here that could answer that question, but I think for me I'm perceiving each member of the godhead a little too differently. Sometimes I emphasize the three so much that I also forget they are one. Kind of related to a message that my friend Greg Lee delivered in December at Suncrest, I need to invite God to come and change my perceptions of Him. I need Him to show me who He really is, and not just what I imagine Him to be. I want to know God in all His fullness, and that means I need to be willing to drop the stupid little boxes I put Him in and allow Him to reshape the way I think about Him as I somehow try to wrap my mind around how big and huge He is.

Because getting a real picture of God can never be a bad thing.

Knowledge Puffs Up...

So I fully, unashamedly admit that I have a man crush on Donald Miller.

Chances are that many of you are probably aware of him. He's author of the best-selling book Blue Like Jazz (in my top 3) and also author of best-seller A Million Miles In a Thousand Years (which I haven't purchased yet, but am very excited to read someday). Miller's a great writer and has a great sense of humor. He also has a very well-thought out approach to Christian spirituality and I love reading his stuff. It's very candid and honest. He makes himself vulnerable, and that's what I believe makes good writers incredible ones.

Anyway, earlier this week I read a post on Miller's blog (www.donmilleris.com) about the topic of knowledge and humility. In this entry, Miller shares about his relationship with a former seminary professor named Ross Tunnell who taught him a lot about the Old Testament. Miller and Tunnell would meet for lunch every two weeks or so, and the deal was that Miller would pay for lunch if Tunnell would teach him about the Old Testament.

Miller shares a story of how he and Ross went to a seminar in Salem, Oregon, and on the ride back home, Miller was sharing condescendingly about some Scripture and how he had it all figured out and just didn't understand how someone couldn't share the same outlook. When Miller finished, he turned, looking for some words of affirmation on his position from his friend. Tunnell stayed quiet, so Miller eventually asked, "Ross, what do you think?" Tunnell looked at him and said, "I think knowledge puffs up."

Ouch.

But that made me really think. How often have I used my own (perceived) intelligence, knowledge, or intellect to try and make myself superior to others? How often have I been so lost in my own pride that I forget my Savior was the perfect picture of humility?

As a Bible college student, I naturally have some friends and acquaintances who turn to me when they need an answer about something related to the Bible, Jesus, an application of the Christian faith, or whatever. In those instances, I am all to eager to show off my Bible knowledge, as if learning about things like Pauline letters, the Pentateuch, or the Gospels make me something special.

The fact is, it doesn't. It does, however, make me a humongous jerk.

In 1 Corinthians 8:1, Paul writes that "knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." Knowledge is great. But if I just have knowledge that isn't rooted in the fruits of the Spirit (see Galatians 5), then it's only "puffing up." It's only making me prideful. It's only creating a false sense of superiority to cover my own inadequacies. It's about our heart... like my friend, boss, and mentor Bobby Jackson tells me, "It's about saying and doing the right things at the right time with the right motivation."

And if I speak something grounded in love, I never need to worry about the right motivation. That will take care of itself.

(To read the original Donald Miller blog that inspired this post, click here.)

Defining the Relationship.

Have you ever had a "define the relationship" conversation with someone?

Aren't they tough? I had one recently with someone, and I'm sure she had to be laughing as I fumbled over my words and used the phrase "this is probably really awkward to hear" about 900 times. I think these conversations, though necessary, are tough because they often involve one party really putting themselves out there emotionally. That's not easy to do. Rejection is an ugly thing.

I love my church because we regularly engage in the tough stuff of life, and we just started this series called "Not a Fan." Yesterday, we started off by receiving the challenge to have a DTR conversation with God. Am I really a follower? Do I just think I'm a follower? Am I sitting on the sidelines? Do I have any intention of even starting a relationship with God whatsoever?

As I look at my life, I see a lot of areas where I think I'm being a follower of God. But I also see a lot where I have some real room for growth. I think that my schedule and my time often show I'm probably just a fan of Jesus and not a follower. I think the same could be said of my ability to step out in faith and take chances where I feel like God is leading me, though I think I'm getting better there.

Overall, I think regardless of where you are in your spiritual journey, it's never a bad idea to ask, "What sort of relationship am I in with God?" Just remember that it's never enough to be a fan... God wants followers.

And that distinction makes a world of difference.

Blameless.

I read Psalm 26 recently, and was really struck by the whole psalm, but especially the first few verses:

1Vindicate me, O LORD,

for I have led a blameless life;

I have trusted in the LORD

without wavering.

2Test me, O LORD, and try me,

examine my heart and my mind;

Have you ever been in a situation where you feel like you did everything right, and yet it all still turned out wrong? That's kind of the feeling I get from David after reading all of Psalm 26. He pleas, "God, I'm loving you and following you... I'm doing all the right things; why are you letting this crappy stuff happen to me?" He even dares God to test him; he's that confident that he's living a righteous life.

I can't speak for what was happening in David's life, and whether he was really living blamelessly or just thought he was (remember, he needed the prophet Nathan to point out the pretty obvious sin of sleeping with another man's wife and then killing her husband). What I can say, though, is that I'm really struck by the boldness David uses in asserting that he is a righteous man. David really believed that he was walking blamelessly with God.

Maybe it's just me, but when I approach God, I feel anything but blameless. Can you imagine living a life that is so steeped in being a holy and righteous person that you approach even God feeling confident that you are walking blamelessly with him? Maybe David was having a pride issue; I can't say on that one. But I do think it'd be pretty cool to live a life that gives me confidence as I approach God, knowing that I am walking in his ways and following his truth. That is something huge to work toward.

A Fine Line.

There is a very fine line that I have always struggled to walk as a Christian, and that's the line of grace vs. legalism.

Chances are that you have in some way faced that conflict in your life before as well. I believe that as a Christ follower, that God has immeasurable grace for me. I can screw it up all I want; it doesn't matter. God's grace is bigger than that, and he's not going to be getting rid of me anytime soon because of my sin. But on the other hand, I also know that I'm supposed to live a Christ-honoring lifestyle. God doesn't expect our perfection, but I believe that he expects us to work toward it.

The trap I always fall into is this: at what point (if any) am I leaning a little too much into God's grace? On the other hand, at what point (if any) have I crossed over the line and started to see myself as being part of God's kingdom because of what I do, not because of who God is and what he offers to me? I think Romans 5-8 probably lays this debate out better than any other portion of the Bible I'm aware of, but even here, Paul never really arrives at any solid ending point. At best, he comes to a "both/and" type of conclusion.

I think it ultimately comes back to the heart. I need to examine my motives behind the way I live my life. That can reveal volumes about where I stand in the whole grace/righteousness dichotomy.

Just like everything, it comes back to the heart.

Thoughts on Hebrews 4.

A few days ago I was reading in Hebrews chapter 4, and I was struck by the following two verses:

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:15-16, NIV)

I think there are two things I love about these verses. Number one, I love that the writer of Hebrews says that we have a high priest in Jesus who can sympathize with our weaknesses. Because Jesus was a human being just like you or I, he can truly sympathize with what we go through. He experienced the highs and lows of the human condition. Every feeling we go through, Jesus went through at some point. When I pray, I'm not speaking to a God who's removed from what I'm going through. I'm talking to someone who's been there, and sometimes, that makes all the difference.

But I was also struck by the second part. Because Jesus can sympathize with our weakness, we can approach his throne with confidence. Jesus knows what we're going through, and he can help us because he knows what we need. The catch? We have to approach. The writer of Hebrews tells his readers to take the initiative and approach God's throne. Jesus wants to help, but we need to ask. And I think that a lot of the time, I forget to do that part.

Margins.

I had the opportunity on Friday evening to attend (via the internet) a leadership conference hosted by Seacoast Church, an extremely innovative multi-site church community based out of South Carolina. The topic was vision, and the main thing that I will take away from that conference was something that Greg Surrat, Seacoast's lead pastor, said in the first 20 minutes or so of the conference.

Greg was talking about how we practically find vision within our own lives, and one of the things he said was, quite simply, if we want a vision from God in our lives, we've got to create a margin. God will never be able to speak to us if we never create the space. It makes sense. But, if I'm honest, while I like to hear from God, I also like to cram 48 hours of stuff into 24 hours of time each day.

If I really want to hear from God, I've got to make a constant effort to have my schedule show that. Even if it's only 20 minutes a day, I've got to give him something.

Lately, I've been using this site called Examen (www.examen.me). You sign up (for free), and then you can choose each day to do a Scripture reading, prayer, or journal time. I personally like the Scripture examens because it asks you to journal on specific questions. It forces me to do more than just read a few paragraphs of Scripture in 20 seconds; I have to think about it and respond. It's not a lot, but it is helping me create at least some day-to-day margin in my life for God to speak to me.

We all want God to speak to us. But that means deciding that is more important than anything else in my life... and that means making my schedule reflect that.

The Rock.

Yesterday I was reading from Psalm 18, and a verse that especially stuck out to me was verse 2:

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

I was just really hit by the "solid" imagery that's used by David to describe God. He calls God a "rock." A "fortress." He is a "refuge" and a "stronghold," not to mention a "shield." David keeps portraying God as this sturdy, solid presence in his life. He is unshakeable.

I don't know that when asked to describe God if the first adjectives that come to mind would be ones with this "sturdy" imagery that David uses. I think a big reason for that is that I often don't really give God a chance to have that sort of presence in my life. I do one of two things: (1) I wander away, off of God, my rock or (2) I decide I'm going to go the storms of life alone, totally forgetting that I have an incredible God available to me.

I prayed yesterday that when things seem unclear, I would discover what it means to have the Rock; God Almighty, underneath my feet. I know he will be... I just need to give him the opportunity.

Doubt.

“Doubt” is a four letter word in many Christian communities. Faith is the name of the game, and Christian subculture has made is pretty tough for us to admit our deep-seated anxieties and fears about this whole Jesus thing. Doubt is of the devil. It isn’t Christian. It makes us unspiritual.

I’ve walked the path of doubt at several points in my life as a Christ follower. I’ve experienced the loneliness and despair that it can bring. But I find a lot of encouragement in Matthew 28:17-20:

When they saw [Jesus], they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

“And some still doubted?” The same disciples who had just seen and interacted with the resurrected Jesus? The same disciples who had seen all the incredible miracles that Jesus had done? These same disciples doubted.

Jesus’ prescription for these men was not to keep waiting until their doubts were gone. It wasn’t a scolding or a “how dare you” for still having some trouble believing in him. Jesus’ response was to send these men with their doubts out to go and start his church.

Jesus still sends us with our doubts, too. And surprisingly, we can learn a lot about life and following Jesus along the way.

A God of Love.

Lately, I’ve been working through the book of Romans and I am making some big realizations about God’s love for us.

I’ve lived my entire life hearing about how God loves me, but have never really made the connection beyond the level of mental assent. But as I’ve read Romans, I’ve been forced to the realization that as a Christ follower, I have no choice but to know that God loves me. He leaves me no other option.

We’ve all heard the saying “actions speak louder than words.” Well, the action of Christ on the cross speaks very loudly about several things, one of which is the simple fact that God loves me enough to offer himself in my place. To die; to pay the ultimate price on behalf of another person is quite possibly the greatest thing one could do, and Christ does exactly that for us.

I no longer need to walk around wondering if I have been good enough to please God, or if he’s happy with me. I know he loves me. I know he has my best interests at heart. The cross leaves me no other choice than that.

Keeping the Vision.

To me, there’s nothing worse than an organization without a clear vision and purpose. They become slow, hard to work with, and bogged down. They don’t know why they exist, so no wonder why it seems like they never know how to grow, what to do next, or even how to make what they do better. These organizations eventually fail because they don’t have a clear idea of what the vision is, or they never had one in the first place.

I once heard someone teach that as a Christ follower, the vision is Jesus. Us serving Jesus. Us living lives for Jesus. Jesus being glorified.

It’s amazing how quickly that vision can get bogged down and lost because we aren’t clear and intentional every day about remembering the vision of Jesus for our lives. Sometimes this simply happens because we say “yes” to too many good things instead of just saying “yes” to the great things. It’s no wonder that just like poorly-run organizations, our lives get cluttered with stuff that doesn’t matter, with things that have no significance, ultimately making us into ineffective followers of Jesus.

I need vision. I need purpose. Thankfully, I believe that a relationship with God offers both of those things. But even more importantly, I need to always keep that vision and that purpose at the forefront of my life.

True Trust.

As I look back on 2009, I think that I learned a lot in my relationship with God, and I believe that our relationship has grown in some really positive ways. But I think the greatest development for me in 2009 was learning to trust in the statement that “God has my best interests at heart.”

To me, that’s the development of true trust; to believe with all of my heart that God truly has my best interests in mind as he acts on my behalf. At the outset of 2009, I had several different ideas about the course my life should go. Here at the beginning of 2010, I’ve seen several of those plans be shot to pieces. But in their place, I’ve seen a greater, better plan unfold. God’s been gracious enough to let me be a part of a church I love at Suncrest. He’s been good enough to place some newly-formed relationships in my life.

I believe the Bible reveals that God loves us and wants the best possible life for us. In 2009, I made the decision to really trust that, even when things didn’t go my way or how I expected. And time and time again, I saw God deliver.

Splanchna.

Recently, I've been reading the book Second Guessing God by Brian Jones. In one of the chapters, he talks about a Greek word, splanchna, which literally refers to the inner parts of the chest cavity; the heart, lungs, all that stuff. Figuratively, the word is used to talk about an overwhelming love and compassion for someone else. I think of it kind of like the way my chest tightens up, my breath gets shaky and I get something in my throat when I start to cry.

In referencing Jesus, Jones points out that the Bible uses this word practically all the time:

• "When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion (splanchna) on them, because htey were like sheep without a shepherd" (Mark 6:34).
• When Jesus saw a woman who had lost both her husband and only son, "his heart went out to her (splanchna) and he said, 'Don't cry,'" (Luke 7:13).
• In the story of the Good Samaritan, Jesus said, "But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity (splanchna) on him" (Luke 10:33).
• In the story of the Prodigal Son, Jesus said, "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion (splanchna) for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him" (Luke 15:20).

I just find something incredibly comforting in knowing that I serve a God who loves people deeply, from the bottom of his heart and soul, where it hurts. I find it even more comforting that that's the same way he loves me.

Deny Yourself...?

I have this tendency to believe that denying myself things that I like or want is true spirituality.

The thinking is, of course, that everything "of the flesh" is super evil. Bad. No good for you. I am such a wicked, messed up sinner that nothing I want could ever be good or good for me. If I just consistently deny myself and what I want, it makes me more spiritual; more Christlike.

I'm not here to say that you should never deny yourself. I believe that sacrifice is one of the major themes of a true Christ follower's life. But sometimes we take denial of ourselves too far, almost to ascetic levels, forgetting the words of Paul in Colossians 2:20-23:

Since you died with Christ to the basic principles of this world, why, as though you still belonged to it, do you submit to its rules: "Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!"? These are all destined to perish with use, because they are based on human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence.

Sometimes, denial of self is the godly and right thing to do. But sometimes, it's just plain stupid.

Changes.

There's an old adage that says "less is more."

Another saying isn't so kind, reminding us to "keep it simple, stupid."

That's my vow to you on here this year. I'm going to keep it simple. Less rambling entries. More things that get to the point. We only have so much time on this earth, and I doubt you wanted to spend it all reading this blog. I'll still be writing just about general stuff that I'm learning about life, about God, about being a follower of Jesus, but just shorter.

Sweeter.

Simpler.

In 2010, I'm also hoping to soon begin a blog called (worship)thought, which will be thoughts on worship and probably more specifically, on leading worship and worship ministries. Right now I'm gathering some ideas and material, and just in the planning/thinking stages. For those who are interested, there will be more on that to come.

But overall, at the beginning of 2010, I'm learning the power of simplicity, and hoping that it will help me be a better Christ follower and communicator. After all, when we say less, we tend to communicate more.

What in your life would benefit from a little more simplicity?