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.