Happy Friday. Is there a huge breath of relief that the weekend is here? I’ve squandered much life focused on theoretical ease awaiting me just around the corner. Living in exhaustion with eyes on the weekend. Like: When the kids get out of diapers, things will be easier. Maybe next summer when the kids are out of school…fall when the kids are back in school. Oh, after the holidays. Then, things will be easier.
Two things: You were made for rest. And you can never stop working, living, trying.
The Jews needed rest from their work because they were trying to achieve salvation through their own strength. If you are coming from the overwhelm of striving, “You are qualified. You are accepted. You can rest.”
But we come from a reference that grace is free—and since we can’t do a thing, I don’t need to do a thing. So, for the remainder of us, I clarify the last paragraph, “God qualifies you. You are accepted but unrepentant sin is not. You can only rest in God’s love, not the work he has for you.”
This post is more for our modern, western retirement culture, coming from our context of entitlement to every luxury and ease.
We definitely need days off to be able to do it again. I’m not talking about all the ways that humans should rest to nourish our bodies, brains and souls. Time spent not bound up in physical labor, stress and worry. I’m talking about a frame of heart where we discard intention and allow atrophy. We coast on previous understanding or previous success and stop trying. Because something that’s been on my mind lately is how we long to reach a point where we’ll be done with all hard things.
We’re not supposed to wear ourselves down in the hustle. We know we’ll never be enough. We just seem to hope that there is this grand retirement from life awaiting. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially. When that retirement happens, things will be easier. Maybe it’s all tied up in some of our interpretation of heaven. Miserable now—heaven is all that matters.
I don’t know what age 85 feels like. Maybe I’ll feel different enough in a few decades to justify sitting down and giving up.
But, I don’t believe you can ever “phone it in” in any area of your life. Not the relationships you want to keep. Not your physical health and the chore of moving your body. Certainly not your wrestling with God.
I was processing this while reading 2 Chronicles 26, so it jumped out at me. Listen to second part of verse 5, “as long as he sought the LORD, God gave him success.” this is about Uzziah, a king of Judah during the days of Zechariah. Then, in verse 16, “but after Uzziah became powerful, his pride lead to his downfall.“ There is a certain truth that if you’ve survived many decades, you’ve acquired the wisdom of survival. But don’t assume that the aged have all the wisdom of the realms. We have to continue seeking new treasure to be able bring out of our storehouse both old and new.
And God does do new things. Just because Solomon or the compiler of Ecclesiastes didn’t observe anything new under the sun doesn’t mean God isn’t capable of generating matter out of nothing. The unchanging God has “different” for each generation, so don’t crush the next generation with what you know that you knew. Be ready to add to your storehouse.
We see it in a number of the kings of the Old Testament. Hezekiah is another example. They start off good, victorious in their youth. Faithless in their age. Even if we start by killing Goliaths, we can end killing Uriahs.
I’m on edge when I read in Kings and Chronicles because it’s basically a list of how all the leaders left the Lord, and how many people died as a result. Most of it is gross, and any victory is short-lived. We tend to press into God in the deserts when we have nothing, in childhood when we know nothing. But as soon as we get a little age, experience, money, success, we move into a lazy pattern of repeating what we did before. Instead of remaining willing to work, curious, humble, and open to wonder and revelation.
I’m (finally) reading something that’s been recommended to me for many years. Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art. And my last blog post might’ve been different if I had already read it. Specifically (in oversimplification) that all “good” art is Christian, and all “bad” art is not, regardless of the label or the salvation status of the creator of said art. I don’t mind a bit of the mystical, because it jives with my understanding of “every good and perfect gift comes down from the father of lights.” Even if it isn’t ordained by your denomination—if it’s good, or true—it’s from God. That’s why you can read fiction that doesn’t have a conversion scene.
Madeline l’Engle touches on why we can never set aside our intention when she reminds us that we have to work to become like a child in approaching God. Jesus assured us that some mystery of childhood is required to enter God’s presence.
“(as I run over my favourite characters in both Old and New Testaments, I can’t find one who was in any worldly way qualified to do the job which was nevertheless accomplished)…In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there’s no danger that we will confuse God’s work with our own, or God’s glory with our own.” (Madeline l’Engle, Walking on Water)
Is there complacency? “I already know God. Check. I found him, so I can stop seeking. The Bible is “clear,” and I already read it—I’m good.” The minute you stop trying, and rest in your qualifications and entitlement, you are no longer a vessel.
A king who started off victorious but, then retired faithless.
Rest, nourish and feed the mortal. But keep your frame of heart full of intention. Don’t allow atrophy. Too much is at stake to retire from living. Remain willing to work, curious, humble, and open to revelation. Forever.
Because even after a lifetime of success, pride can still be a downfall.
I didn’t mean to go so far over my 7 or 8 minute goal in one post. But when I skip weeks, it builds up. There’s a lot of verse links in this one, I hope you double check them all and spend some time pondering their validity. I’d love the conversation.
My favorite recipe app shut down at the start of winter. I wasn’t able to print or bookmark the recipes I’d saved. They are lost to me. It reminds me that years ago I had a daydream where I was reading a digital Bible, and the words started changing and updating to propaganda and lies while I read it. (Since I knew didn’t want to write an apocalyptic novel, I realized my imagination was telling me that I needed to know my Bible, not just know where it’s stored.)
And even still, I prefer the convenience of my digital Bible. Although I use Bible Project frequently, my favorite daily app is Olive Tree. I read through and start over. Occasionally, I try themed reading plans. Every year I am more in awe, and assured it is the Word of God. It always takes me much longer than a year to read through, and I just finished Revelation.
There is a lot going on in this book. And I’m currently contemplating how intriguing it is that even though there is one God, one body, one hope… Jesus Christ introduces and represents himself differently to the seven churches.
To the first church, he introduces himself as the one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven lamp stands. Revelation 2:1 To the second, he is the first and the last, who died and came to life. Verse 2:8 Then, he declares he is the one with the sharp two-edged sword. Verse 2:12 Next, he doesn’t have a sword. He tells the church that he has eyes like a flame of fire, with feet of burnished bronze. Verse 2:18 In chapter three verse one he describes himself with a similarity to the first church displaying seven stars. But now, he has the seven spirits of God with those stars. In 3:7, he is the holy one, the true one. And he has the key of David; he opens what no one will shut and shuts what no one opens. To the last church in 3:14 he is the Amen. The faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.
Superficially we can look at this is and realize, he’s different to different people. It’s true, you can find God in art, you can find God in science. If something is truly good, it comes from God, no matter the label. And even though Jesus is the only gate, we have to allow that some things look different from our different angles.
We can take that too far, though. The New Testament is clear that rejecting Jesus is rejecting God. We don’t want to risk making a god of our own design and saying all actions and paths lead to him.
Really, all paths lead to decisions. Continually, eventually, your decisions lead you toward or away from the heart of Christ. And just because you acknowledge that Jesus is the gate—or you have said that magic prayer—it doesn’t mean your decisions and actions are still running after his heart.
And, the decisions we need to make each day haven’t changed. I must decide if I am going to do what I want (or eat the fruit) and call my own choices wisdom. Listen, I don’t think Adam and Eve bit down in nervous, regretful, guilt. They rationalized that what they were doing was advantageous, desirous…smart. They elevated their choice with justification and reason. That’s how we end up blocked from the tree of life. It’s how we end up with everyone doing “what is right in their own eyes,” as demonstrated in the historical-chaos-accounts of the Old Testament.
The decision is still to do what he says is best for human flourishing—or to continue tasting and cultivating your palate toward bitterness, rage, anger, or immorality. And rationalizing it.
My path looks different from yours
However, I do giggle at the thought of one church saying to another that God Most High is clearly the one with the sharp, two-edged sword. And the other church replying, “Heavens no, you apostate from hell, God Most High has seven stars in his hand and walks among the seven lamp stands.”
And then the battle ensues. They slaughter each other for generations over the doctrine of swords and stars. Sometimes the church of the seven spirits helps, because after all, they have the commonality of the seven stars, and they can set the lamp stands aside for a minute to get rid of the sword church. Or at the very least, the factions split and they badmouth each other across town while the non-believers look on and roll their eyes.
We are told that our love for each other will prove we are disciples. Why then, is it so surprising that pseudo-love (sex) is more compelling to the world than our division and fear?
We see a greater totality of God when we’re connected to others who are different from ourselves and who see God differently. The church in Asia, the church in Africa, the church in Europe… the church across the street, all have things we don’t know about—and need. When the body is complete, we have access to all the body’s functions and resources. Swords and stars.
There is a similarity in Revelation after Christ introduces himself differently. In each of Christ’s messages to the seven churches, there’s a reward for “the one who conquers, is victorious, or overcomes.”
I believe the promises that follow the admonitions are for all who overcome, even though specific churches needed specific encouragements, and… specific warnings that pertain to particular broken things in their individual culture.
Here is the list of those promises: the one who overcomes gets to eat of the tree of life in the paradise of God (2:7). The one who overcomes will not be hurt by the second death (2:11). They will get some of the hidden manna and a white stone with a new name written on that stone that no one knows (2:17). They will have authority over the nations, to rule. And they will receive the morning star (2:26-28). They will be clothed in white garments, their name will never be blotted out of the book of life and Christ will confess their name before the father and angels (3:5). They will become a pillar in the temple of God, never to leave it. And Christ says he will write on them the name of his God, the name of the city of God…and Christ’s own new name (3:12).
To be completely transparent about why I say all of those rewards apply to all the churches: It’s because I tend to take all the promises from the Bible for personal application—if not direct receipt. I cling to David’s promises in the Psalms as something I have access to. But, to be fair, I also believe all the warnings still apply to me as well. It’s not à la cate: good stuff for me, and the warnings for the Jews.
Your path looks different from mine
This is not the only time God looks different. Our unique brains, cultures and experiences make it difficult to agree on how to build a compost pile, much less how to live in sincere peace with God Most High. So, our multifaceted Christ also pursues us differently according to our individual needs. Sometimes he comes after us like the shepherd who leaves the flock behind, to search us out. Then, carries our trembling hide home with more rejoicing than he has for the 99.
But sometimes, he waits patiently for us to return like the prodigal father. Running to us only after we turn toward home. Waiting until we want him, before he falls on our neck with a kiss.
Sometimes he draws us into the pain of the wilderness to remove our distraction, or semblance of strength, and to see our need. He wants us to experience calling out to him so we can experience his answer.
Sometimes he wants us to wait patiently for him. And don’t think you can experience “patiently” without a difficult stretch of time in longing.
Different reactions to the choice
In the parable of the dinner feast, Christ says in Luke 14:16–24 that many people have excuses for why they cannot come to the feast, or at least come right now. The excuses are interesting to me: owning land, working, getting married. All things greatly valued in American Christendom. Is it not ironic that we preach “Get a job, buy dirt, make a bio family and then you’ll experience God’s blessing…” when those are the specific entrapments that actually kept people from going to the feast in the parable?
We’ll just skip over the obvious parable of the same seed falling on different soil and consider the varied reactions when Paul preached in Athens in Acts 17:22-34. Some laughed, some said they’d hear more later, and some believed. I think the ones who go to church every week, tell other people they’re going to hell, while rationalizing their own discrete sins, are the “We’d like to hear more on this topic” group.
When Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead in John 11:44, the people who watched reacted in two different ways. “Many of the Jews, therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what he did, believed in him, but some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done.” Verses 45 & 46.
Even though a dead man had been restored to life—they were more concerned about upsetting their societal structure, their man-made religious government.
And then, even some of those who believed the miracle of Lazarus still rejected the call to live it out. John 12:42-43 says “Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.”
Different reactions to the ongoing choice
Freewill is obviously destructive to the world. But, don’t forget: freewill from believers hurts people just as much. It is possible to go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of truth. Just because you walk through the gate, it doesn’t mean you loose the dignity of your free choice.
In Matthew 21:28-32 the parable is of two sons—so I think of them as children of God, as believers. Did you think after your wedding day that you would never have another decision regarding your sexual morality? Did you think it would always be the easy, first choice to obey God after conversion? In actuality, once abiding has reigned in some of the outwardly demonstrated sins like rage and drunkenness, you can start to feel the less obvious inflammation of subtle diseases, like jealousy.
Those continual choices of submission, after we come to the Lord, actually increase. The boys in the parable were told to work in the vineyard. One said no, but then later went. One said yes, but did not go. Jesus asked the men who had dedicated their entire life to studying the scriptures, “Which son obeyed?”
These devout men said it was the first who obeyed. Because action matters more than the promise, right? Here’s where Jesus gets insult-y. He replied to them the worst, most unlikely converts, and outcast enemies of your society will enter heaven before you. Verse 32.
Hmm, are there any unlikely converts and outcast enemies according to your church’s “about page”?
We’re missing something if we think either obeyed. So don’t bother giving lip service to God or others about your faith. Prove it with your actions and your love.
Also, allow that in all our differences, we also grow and learn at different speeds. But make no mistake. Jesus said, if you love me, you will keep my commands. The follower of Jesus won’t be the one who tells others to obey from blog, podcast, pulpit or book. Even Paul said he could be disqualified while leading others to God—if he wasn’t careful. Nor will true followers be the one who merely prophesy in his name…or who do amazing miracles. It will be the one who practices abiding in love and obedience.
This bucks at the “Grace is so dang cheap, it’s free!” doctrine I’ve met along the way. I’m still working through it, but it jolts me every time I read, “Not all who cry Lord, Lord, will enter heaven. But only the one who does the will of my father.” Matthew 7:21
He is still calling you
Since some will stand before God at the end and be surprised that he says, “I never knew you,” we should rethink the once-saved-always-saved, one-and-done-magic-prayer, and then live-like-hell-in-religiosity (while condemning the unlikely converts and outcast enemies) religion. I used to tell myself that the ones who cried out “Lord, Lord” were probably going to be the other orthodox or Episcopalians. Just some denomination I didn’t belong to and didn’t know much about. But no, I am the church.
And if you think there is submission involved in coming to the end of yourself and understanding that you need God for salvation… ponder the submission it takes to daily choose his way against your desire. To hourly accept letting go of the things you want, and understand, and are familiar, for the things that he says are better.
Believer, he is still calling you to more, to go deeper. Relinquish more. Abide more. Change more. Don’t ignore it. Hebrews 3 says it is an ongoing choice to not turn away from the living God.
Crowds surrounded him and wanted to be tangential to Christ. We can still mingle tangentially, prophesy and weep for the lost—but never submit to God. Because when Christ gave the call to the masses that surrounded him to follow and obey, not everyone did. Some had really good excuses. (Excuses are not the same as clarification, questions and wrestling with God.)
Look how it played out, Peter fell to his knees when Christ told him, “Follow me and I will make you a fisher of men.” When James & John got the call, they left their dad & boat. But other men he called said, “Let me first bury my dad,” or “Let me say goodbye to my family.”
As an adult, you get to live the life you want. Sure, only within your power and circumstance, but all your justifications, excuses and responses dictate your life. You have this ongoing choice to walk toward or away from the heart of Christ.
Is there anything you are waiting on, or need to take care of, or bury before you answer the call to go deeper?
“Take Luck” was from a skit by stand-up comedian Brian Regan, where he talked about intending to say, “Take Care,” and then switching to “Good Luck,” halfway through. It’s a funny one.
I think of it when sending a meaningless salutation. To offer without really offering. Take some luck from somewhere, and have it. Keep it with you. I also think of his skit when I see generic signs that say something like, “have faith” or “be blessed!”
Have faith in what? Be blessed how? Take some luck with you—I think there’s a bowl on the counter.
James 2:16 says, “and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do?” It’s like when you pass a homeless person on a frigid night, on your way back to your car, and you call out, “Stay warm!”
There is power in words and power in prayer, and it is significant when you speak a blessing over someone’s life. That’s different from when someone has a need, you see it, and you have a tangible item like a spare coat. Something to hold on to.
Substance
Have you ever experienced making up a story about someone in your head? You go into the creepy part of Wonderland (down a dark rabbit trail.) And then when you see the person, or talk to them, you know right away that none of it is true. Your theory had no substance. Nothing to hold on to.
All it took was a conversation to find out the truth.
This used to be the annoying thing about simple romances to me when I was a young girl… especially because I value (kind) directness. I could never get behind a heroine whose entire conflict was a misunderstanding or an unspoken clarification. If they would just have that conversation already, there would be no book.
I have another quote from Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lisa Terkeurst, since it’s what I’m reading right now, “Relationships often die not because of conversations that were had but rather conversations that were needed, but never had.”
It’s true, we can write out scenarios that seem like reality. And then a bit of truth, not even a deep dive, and we find out differently.
Making it up
We watched a few episodes of the Good Place and their funny world-building includes a heaven that “no one could imagine.” They have a picture in heaven’s office of a guy who got really stoned and said, “This is what I think heaven will totally be like.” He’s heralded as the guru who got the closest.
It’s meant to be hilarious, but many people treat things of God, and eternity this way.
Most people believe they are critical thinkers, not emotional. But faith without substance is stoned-luck. No matter how critically you look at the void, it’s still empty.
Scales and measuring cups
My friend mentioned something to me that has proved itself true again and again. She said she thought she was eating in her caloric budget until she started writing things down. I’ve seen it myself. Recently, I saw somebody order something in a restaurant that looked delicious. So I tried to copy it at home. I made a light shrimp and fettuccine salad. But when I added it to MyFitnessPal, it was 800 calories. The restaurant had served double. Not exactly a light lunch.
And even more than just logging what you’re eating, you can think that something looks like an appropriate portion—until you weigh it. It’s doubtful that the average eater actually knows what 25 grams of fiber looks like over the course of a day. Due to years of cooking, I can judge weight and volume close to accurate and often cook without measuring. But when it really matters, I still get out the scale.
So, upon closer inspection, you see details more accurately when you actually weigh yourself against the Bible.
And let’s be honest, another interesting correlation is that the days I don’t want to obey or know the scale… those are the days I don’t measure food. So there’s a submission/discipline factor of not wanting to know if I measure up. Sometimes I just want to eat like an asshole. This is likely a larger contributing factor (besides laziness or time management) for not looking in the Bible. We don’t want to see if we measure up.
But here’s the problem, someone who is a Christian, but doesn’t read the Bible, is really susceptible to the weird tangents of Christian religion. Taking someone else’s word for what the scriptures say inevitably lays the groundwork for future deconstruction. This is what children do: accept the world through the lens and experience of those over them. This is not what a maturing Christian does.
You don’t want to have a void or ungrounded faith that can’t weather storms. Take some luck, and keep it with you. Care for it.
So, you can be frustrated with what you think about God. You can be frustrated with what you think about the church. But if you’re not holding it up to a depth of study in the word, you are not frustrated with substance. You’re following a rabbit down a hole. If you look at the way the letters to the church explained the right way to live—and then you see how Christians are disobeying—that’s something to hold on to.
I used to get annoyed when I saw a verse partially quoted. (Romans 8:1a) But then I realized that the chapters and verses were added. So even memorizing a whole verse can miss the larger context. That isn’t even to mention re-wording and misquoting. I’ve seen people defend mis-worded scripture with tears. This happens when you “already know what it says” before you read it. But that’s another topic.
I love a quote I heard from Theologian Preston Sprinkle. He says, “Let the strength of your conviction reflect the depth of your study.” Pick the mountain you’ll die on.
You are doing yourself an extreme disservice if you hold your convictions tight in your head and heart, without opening the Bible to check their weight.
So the point is, get out the scales. Grab on to something solid. Read for yourself.
I remember standing on the deck of a beautiful home in Tahoe for a home group gathering. The leader responded to my compliment about the view, his home, and yard with, “Where God guides, he provides.”
It’s so, so true. God directs us. He opens and closes doors. All good things come down from the Father of Lights. He is the way-maker.
But this was during the time my husband was physically injured. We were losing our barely affordable rental to a thriving real estate “seller’s market,” and we didn’t know where we would be moving. I was unskilled—waiting tables at more than one restaurant—while my husband tried to stand upright again. It was just months after I’d weaned our third baby.
So my whispered reply was, “I wish God would guide me.”
God’s Favor
Casually spoken Christian terms and quotes alienate people more than they glorify God.
There are certain privileges you owe to the structures of this world. Such as, you were born in a country where citizens learn to read. Even though God loved Jacob and hated Esau before they were born it isn’t God’s favor over you that prevented you from being born into disease, famine, prison, or a refugee camp—and someone else into it.
The idea of God’s favor reeks of prosperity doctrine—but I especially dislike it because I hear it when people just want to describe how God approved and enabled their plans.
As lovers of God, we want to do great things for him. So we make plans. And if he aligns the stars and decimals—we tell everyone that we have his “favor.”
And sometimes, he laughs at, scoffs, or taunts the world’s plans. Yeah, possibly even your plans and mine. He rejected Uzzah’s. (A man who likely had good intentions of not letting the Arc of the Covenant fall to the ground…but who wasn’t a priest and therefore was prohibited from touching it.)
It isn’t God’s favor in the form of your success, which proves your sonship, or your citizenship in heaven. Sometimes if things look fantastic for you in this world—it’s just because you are operating well as a part of this world. Or you had a leg up.
Things are just going to be easier if you are born into a society with public services, the ability to own private land, and within an infrastructure for (some) free education. If you are born to an intact family and money, you will have many more options and opportunities than others… and a softer place to land if the stars and decimals don’t align.
Reserve, there are two different kingdoms operating simultaneously—and some principles will help you in both. If you do not cheat on your spouse, they are less likely to leave you (for infidelity, at least.) If you show up on time and work your best, you are less likely to be fired (for laziness, at least.)
But don’t confuse good principles operating under the structure of this world as God‘s favor. Sometimes you do all these things, and you are still abandoned, lose your job, never receive the pay you deserve, have health issues, and cannot provide for the future of those you love.
This is not a reflection of God’s favor on you.
Because not everyone doing well in this world reached success because of honor or adherence to God’s principles. There is a selfish kind of wisdom that will advance you in this life.
And even though God wanted to give Israel prosperity—sometimes they achieved it themselves through oppressive interest rates, enslaving others, buying land from the desperate, and exploiting the immigrant.
I found a Bible Project article article that mentioned, “… in the biblical narrative, prosperity, and wealth are often signs of brutal injustice toward the vulnerable.”
On the other hand, not everyone who adheres to God’s principles will be rewarded on earth. Christians are anticipating a home anda reward yet to come.
Besides, even though all perfect gifts come from him, not all things the world calls “good” are… good.
How #imblessed looks to unbelievers
Don’t use “though none go with me” as an excuse to trample others along your way. It does matter how we look and sound to unbelievers. Paul talked about the way the gift of tongues should be used in the church—stating that if a nonbeliever came in and it was chaotic, “Would he not think you were all mad?”
It is fine to live well here. Defend your right to burn trash on your lawn with your dying breath. Finagle a better interest rate and take your neighbor to court. Just don’t call it “trusting in the Lord,” “God’s favor,” or a “blessing,” and think that it glorifies God.
And stop confusing success in this world as proof heaven’s citizenship.
Is it your fault?
It’s painful when your life looks like you neither adhere to the decent principles of the world nor have tangible gifts and God’s favor. You lose your home, your job, your health. The most obvious question for other believers to ask you is, “Is this pain a result of your sin or your parents?” Just like the disciples asked Jesus regarding a man born blind. Just like Job’s friends accused. It’s easy to imagine the prodigal father questioned all his life’s choices before he ran to embrace his returning son and fell upon his neck.
Remember, all the tangible gifts given here on earth will still burn up with the rest of the temporal things. While we should enjoy them, we should more intently seek the treasures in eternity that can’t be destroyed. The favor you cannot yet see, taste, touch—or post on social media.
Sometimes people leave the faith because their torn garments, fasting and praying, doesn’t bring the good life or the restoration of relationship, that was promised. The candy machine God isn’t the one we should peddle… because it isn’t God’s favor or lack of tribulation that proves sonship. Not when Jesus said if they hated him—they would hate us. Not when he promised we would have to endure troubles.
Hebrews 12:7-8 “It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons.”
We don’t need to always think of discipline as correction or punishment. Discipline is simply what makes you drag yourself out of bed in the morning. Most of the time, discipline is making the head choice instead of the flesh choice for food, exercise, study and relationships.
Discipline can be a judge—but it can also be a personal trainer.
And I feel like the writer of Hebrews is encouraging the reader with the reminder “in which we all have participated” as confirmation that your tough times, your pain, prove your legitimacy as children of God.
I once said to my grandma, “I wish Jesus would come back.” It wasn’t during a trial. I think I was just feeling the irritation of living. I had a bill due, or something equally inconsequential.
She said, “Yes, I hope so too. But, not yet.”
I was shocked. Maybe even a little worried that she didn’t want Christ to return at that very moment. I mean, you get a crown just for longing for his return! Why wouldn’t she want him to come immediately?
I hadn’t yet known the pain of a lost loved one. The pain of longing for someone you love more than yourself to be reconciled to God before it’s too late.
It isn’t easy to balance these two longings (Christ’s return and the salvation of loved ones) inside the same heart space. When I spoke that to my grandma, I was being selfish. The Lord tarries, desiring none would perish.
During that season, we attended a church that gave regular prophecy updates. Jesus’s return occupied much of our attention, maybe more focus than bringing God’s kingdom here to earth through actions and stewardship.
Conversation about The End Times was casual—albeit with a heightened sense of macabre excitement. “God is going to come back and punish everyone but me! The earth will be filled with the blood of evil unbelievers and those who vote Democrat.”
Our blind anticipation about eternity did a little damage. Like someone who gives up living, preparing to plan their funeral, rather than do anything to bolster their life. Although, in some seasons of pain—selfish is all you can muster.
But focusing solely on eternity means sacrificing his gift of abundant life now. Both for yourself and what you have to give others.
It is selfish to wag your head at an earth “headed to hell in a handbasket.” And to harden your heart against those leaving the faith—drawing comfort that it’s just predestination. I read something recently that said, “a salvation that requires someone else’s destruction is too small a salvation since ‘everyone belongs to God.’”
It is the Kindness of God that Draws to Repentance
You could speak like Paul if you loved like Paul. But if we aren’t willing to give up our salvation for someone else—we should be careful how we instruct, exhort and justify “the end” in our minds.
Always question doctrine and interpretation that causes you to turn your heart away from humanity.
Long for his return, for the reconciliation to the lover of your soul… but not at the expense of bringing his kingdom here to earth in the meantime. I often think about an ending scene in Schindler’s List. While people thank him for their lives, Schindler can only stare at his watch and lament that he could have sold it to save more.
A Thief in the Night
If you think it’s hard to live now, in a fallen world, fearing the future loss of your freedoms… read scripture about the end. You might not be so eager to usher it in, other than the glorious result of reconciliation. Christ’s analogy to birth pangs is perfect. For most of pregnancy, there is still so much left to do to prepare for the arrival. You don’t want birth to happen until you’re finished getting ready. You’re eventually willing to go through labor to have the baby in arm, but you never wake up and think, “Today is a good day for hours and hours of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced and possible death.”
There’s an interpretation about the destruction of the temple in 70 AD and the Parousia, or second coming of Christ, being the same event. But I favor the “already and not yet” duality of scripture. It shows up in too many places and correlates to our entire faith-walk. For example, we are already redeemed, but sanctification is still happening in our sinful bodies until we will be changed in heaven. We are already, and not yet, justified.
So, even though Christ was teaching in the temple in Luke 21, I believe the passage has use as instruction for us.
Verses 34-36: But watch yourselves, or your hearts will be weighed down by dissipation, drunkenness, and the worries of life—and that day will spring upon you suddenly like a snare. For it will come upon all who dwell on the face of all the earth. So keep watch at all times, and pray that you may have the strength to escape all that is about to happen and to stand before the Son of Man.
Pray to Escape
When you read Revelations, Matthew 24, and Luke 21, there are common threads to pray that you will escape or you will endure. Certainly, God does not give us a spirit of fear, so fear is not an appropriate response to the discussion. We are safe, we cannot be snatched from God’s hand. We should lift our eyes and watch for redemption, but we shouldn’t disregard the warnings either. There is tension here—just like the tension of balancing a longing for Christ’s return and longing for the salvation of loved ones, first.
Sometimes it seems like the easiest answer is for the end to arrive, but instead of looking forward to your enemies being crushed under God’s feet, spend your energy on the concept that those who endure to the end shall be saved.
Pray to Endure
Most Jews didn’t recognize Jesus because they had purposed in their minds what the coming Messiah would look like. Don’t become so fixated on how you expect the end to play out that you’re unprepared.
Luke 21 verse 19 says, “by your patient endurance you will gain your souls.” Make sure you really believe what you believe, memorize and take his word into the deep inner parts. Prepare for labor before victory.
