Category: grace

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Repost: Pursuing the Virtuous Life

This was first posted on April 22, 2010.

One of the things I learned during my days as a teacher in fundamentalist Christian education was the fact that many of America’s founding fathers had lists of virtues or rules of behavior that were good things for the students to know and emulate. Ben Franklin had a list of thirteen, while George Washington had one hundred ten rules to follow. All in all the rules and lists are not bad things for people to check out and learn from. We obviously could use more civility and manners in today’s society.

The problem comes when we try to make ourselves virtuous by following a list of rules. Ben Franklin realized that while he had become a better person in many ways, he had not reached the state of moral perfection that he hoped to attain. Many churches preach, and many people believe, that following the dictates of their church or a set of rules from a particular group will help you be “right with God.” Many other churches who don’t have a long list of “standards” still preach steps to be closer to God, or any number of things you can do to be a better Christian. This kind of thinking, while it may make life a bit better, is nothing more than man’s attempt to do what only God can do.

What is forgotten in all the lists to follow is grace. Grace is the word that Christians use when they are talking about salvation. They are correct; we are saved by grace, not by anything we do. What is so often neglected is that we also live and grow by grace. As God’s children, there is nothing we can do to make him love us less. We can not tear ourselves away from God’s grace and love. It is also true that there is nothing we can do that will make God love us any more. We cannot add to the Father’s grace and love toward us. I love my son and daughter unconditionally. They cannot do anything that is going to make me stop loving them, and they do not have to do anything to earn my love. So it is with God. He loves us, period.

As we learn to accept and rest in that love it grows in us and our love for God and for others grows. The way we grow in the Father’s love is by spending time with him, seeing each day as an opportunity to be guided and shaped by the Spirit. We learn about the Father by looking at the Son, by immersing ourselves in the Gospels and seeing Jesus as he really is. The first disciples spent three years with the Master, eating and drinking with him , traveling with him, hearing his teachings and seeing how he lived those teachings out. After that, they were given the Holy Spirit and went out and turned the world upside down. We have the account of Jesus’ life and teachings, and we have the same Holy Spirit to guide us and empower us to become like Jesus.

Our lives do not hang on man-made rules or anything else that comes from our own efforts. We can become better people, but the Father’s goal is for us to become like Christ. That can only come from the grace of God working in our lives through the Spirit. It happens because God loves us. Rest in that love. Don’t try to be a virtuous person. Instead, learn from Jesus and let the Spirit teach you. Trust in the fact that the Father is shaping you into the image of Jesus. As the old hymn says, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.”

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Lessons From The Man Who Ate New Orleans Part 4

In the first three posts, we looked at the cardinal virtues of community, generosity, resiliency, openness to outsiders, and diversity. In this post I want to look at tradition and celebration.

Webster defines tradition as a time honored practice or set of such practices. Tradition is complicated. There are many who see tradition as a bad thing, and it certainly can be. Tradition can be something that binds, that excludes, that stifles. Many of the conflicts between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day were about tradition. Tradition can be lifted up to something more important than it is, even to the point of something close to worship. Church programs, styles of music, or any number of things are sometimes elevated to almost the level of Scripture. A common phrase in some circles is, “We’ve always done it this way,” when an opportunity for change comes along. Tradition can take precedence over the good of others, and can keep us from loving them. Jesus was very clear about the wrongness of putting tradition ahead of loving others and doing good to them.

On the other hand, tradition can be a good, life affirming thing. It can draw folks close and build them up. A family gathering around a table can be a good tradition. Certain practices in the church can be good traditions and can connect us with others and with those who have gone before us in the faith. Traditions can keep us in touch with our heritage, give us a sense of oneness with others, and make us feel a part of something beyond ourselves. There are many today who are rediscovering some of the traditions of centuries past, and who are experiencing a deeper faith because of it.

One of the traditions that can be a good thing is the tradition of celebration. The people of God have a long history of celebration. Israel was given days of feasting as well as days of fasting. In Deuteronomy 14:22-26, the people were even told they could sell their tithe for silver and buy enough food, wine, and strong drink to have a feast with their families. The Israelites were a celebratory people. Jesus came and spent so much time celebrating that his critics accused him of being a glutton and a drunk. When asked why his disciples didn’t fast, he replied that there was no reason to fast at that time, that it was time to celebrate! Of course, those of us who follow the resurrected Christ have the best reason of all to celebrate. We are accepted by God because Jesus gave his life and then rose from the dead! Death has been defeated! If that’s not a reason to celebrate than I don’t know what is! N.T. Wright states that our Easter celebrations should be blow out affairs, with champagne! He says that we should party so boisterously that others look at us and wonder why. I think I agree with him. Think of all the things we celebrate. Is there really anything worth celebrating as much as the resurrection of our King, guaranteeing our resurrection? Even if we don’t want to throw a huge party to celebrate what the Father has given us, we should at least be people who celebrate and not folks who go around looking down all the time. Even in the midst of the mess and suffering of life, we know we are loved by the One who is going to renew all things, and that we are being renewed as well.

Let us be people who hold to those traditions that bring us closer to Christ and who are free to celebrate with abandon the grace and mercy we have been given. 

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3     

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A Christmas Program

Last month, I went with Jan to a Christmas program at the school where she teaches. As I sat watching the program, I started thinking that I was at a Christmas program that neither of our children were in, that I didn’t know any of the students, and that the only reason I was there because some of Jan’s students were participating. And, I was enjoying it. As I wondered why, I realized it was because it was a program that was full of the innocence of children, the joy of simple participation, and unconditional love. Later, I thought how that simple school Christmas program was a good picture of what the church is (or should be).

The participants in the program were not professional musicians or actors. While the performance was very good, there were notes that were missed and lines that were flubbed. It was what was there that is most important. There was innocence, an innocence that allowed each child to simply go through their part in the program and not worry about any missteps. There was also a joy in simply doing something in front of their families and friends. They were simply doing something and having fun doing it. None of the children ran crying from the stage because they had missed a cue or hit the wrong note. There was no embarrassment. This was because the children knew that they were loved by their parents and teachers, and that this love did not depend on performance. The audience applauded each part of the program, and showed sincere appreciation for the efforts of the participants.

This is how the church should be. Each of us has a part to play in the “program” that is the church. We are all called to be ministers of the grace of God. Whether that part is “big” or “small,” we all have something to do in the body. We are called to be as children in our trust of the Father. It is an innocent trust that knows that, no matter what, our Abba has everything under control and loves us. Knowing this allows us to do what we do with joy, because we know that the end result doesn’t depend on us and our performance doesn’t determine our acceptance. We can miss cues, flub lines, and hit the wrong notes and our Father loves us the same.

That unconditional love of God calls us to love each other in the same way. Some of us struggle with a critical way of looking at the world. That is wrong. Just as no one criticized the children for not being perfect, so we should not criticize our brothers and sisters who may not do things as well as we do, or who may not be as far along in certain parts of their journey. We must remember that each one of us is solely responsible to God, and how he has called us may not be the same as how he has called another. We are also called to lay down our lives for our brothers. That will help free them to serve with joy and an innocent trust in the God who is sovereign and who can take our poorest efforts and use them for his glory and the advancement of his kingdom.

Let us be as children as we do what God has called us to do. Let us rest in the Father as we work, trusting him completely. Let us take joy in our calling, and let others know the source of that joy. Let us love one another as Christ has loved us and allow each other the freedom to play out our calling, even when it doesn’t look all that pretty.

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Reflections on a Year

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. This quote from A Tale of Two Cities doesn’t exactly describe this past year, but the highs were high and the lows were low. There have been things that I hope I never have to go through again and things that I hope continue on and on.

The first three months of 2012 brought us the end of a small fellowship of believers we had been leading and the end of what we thought was a close friendship. Those months were especially hard on me. If you want to  get an idea of where I was during that time you can go back and read some of the posts from January to April. It was a dark time that I hope to never experience again.

In April, we began meeting with a group of believers on Sunday nights as part of a church plant. God showed his sense of humor by leading a guy who had no desire to go back to the institutional church to a church that is part of a denomination. As we quickly found out, this group is different. They met on Sunday nights for a meal, and then had a worship service, ending with communion. There were also groups that met during the week for a meal, a Bible study, or just hanging out together. We were welcomed and accepted from the beginning. The biggest draw for me was the mission of the church to benefit our city and to help each other learn to follow Jesus.

The defining moment came pretty quickly. You can read about it here. We had been looking for community, and had tried to create it. Those attempts had been a miserable failure. Now the Father had led us into a community of faith that already existed, and that was truly centered in Jesus Christ and the truth of the Gospel. As the months have gone by, we have grown to love these brothers and sisters and God has given us opportunities to minister to them, and be ministered to.

In May, our son Josh got married. His wife is a beautiful young woman, and is a blessing to us. We have grown to love her as one of the family. Josh was able to land a job at a local architecture firm, and we are rejoicing at God’s blessing. As the year continued, there were a couple of dips in the road, but for the most part the journey has been pretty good. God has continued to teach us and bless us, and draw us closer to himself.

When this year began, I had an inkling that God was about to do something in my life. Little did I know what that would mean. I definitely would have done things differently had I been in charge, but then we wouldn’t be where we are now. I have been learning that though the Father’s mercy may look like something far different, I can trust his goodness and love. I am learning to trust my Abba’s love, leaving things in his hands.

It’s been an interesting year. There have been some tough times and there have been some good times. The good has definitely outweighed the bad. We are in a good place, and I’m looking forward to how the Father is going to work in me in 2013. To quote another piece of literature:

“The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
and I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And wither then? I cannot say.”
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The Prodigal Son: Becoming the Father

In The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen writes that the challenge for him is to become the father. It is a challenge that is full of difficulties. When we look again at the Father in our own stories, we can see how daunting it is.

Our Father is gracious and loving without condition. He gives us many good gifts, but the most important gift he gives is himself. The Father is reckless in giving himself to us. Jesus, who is the image of the Father, gave his very life for us, pouring out his blood for our salvation. We are granted grace and mercy without measure from an eternal, inexhaustible love. There is nothing our Father wouldn’t do for our good.

As children of God, we are called to be like him. When I look in a mirror, I see my dad. The eyes, the facial features, the hair (or lack thereof), the voice, all show whose son I am. The same is to be true of those who are children of the heavenly Father. As God is loving and compassionate, so we are to be loving and compassionate. As God is gracious and merciful, so we are to be gracious and merciful. As God gives himself, so we are to give ourselves. You get the idea.

In my late twenties my life changed as I became a father. Even though I was still a son, I was now a person with a child. That brought a change in responsibilities, and a change in perspective. As we mature in Christ, we are to leave both the prodigal and the elder son behind. We are still in need of fathering from God, but our vocation changes. We are now called to be the father. As I look at the father in the story, I see some things that will be true as we become the father. Nouwen states that the three ways to compassionate fatherhood are grief, forgiveness, and generosity.  

We grieve over those who have left home, we grieve over the injustice and abuse in the world, and we grieve over our own weakness. One aspect of grieving is realizing that we cannot save the one who has wandered away. The father in the story didn’t go after his son, but he watched and waited for him to return. So it is with us. Many times, all we can do is pray that God will turn the prodigal around. We can not go into the far country and drag them back. All we can do is wait and be ready to welcome them home.

This grieving makes us sensitive to others who are hurting, and the sensitivity leads us to forgive those who wrong us. As the father did, we forgive without question any and all who return. As Jesus said, we forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and so on. True forgiveness also reconciles. The father didn’t say to the prodigal, “I forgive you, but I think I’ll just keep you on as a servant.” He accepted him back as his beloved son. No strings attached.

The third way to compassionate fatherhood is generosity. The father spared nothing to celebrate his son’s return. He gave the best of everything, including himself. We are called to give ourselves to others in the same way. Yes, we may get hurt. I’m sure the father was hurt when the elder son refused to join the party, and I would guess the younger son wasn’t perfect after he was restored. He may well have cause his father more pain. We are to remember the hurt we have caused our Father and the grace he gives us regardless, and do the same for others.

May the Father enable us to be as gracious, loving, and compassionate to others as he is to us.

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The Prodigal Son: The Father

The story in Luke 15 is popularly named for the prodigal son, but it could be titled, “The Story of the Prodigal Father.” Prodigal means recklessly extravagant, and I think that describes the actions of the father in the story. Jesus told this story in response to the criticism that he ate and drank with sinners. It is a picture of God’s extravagant love toward repentant sinners.

The father granted the younger son’s request, even though it was a slap in the face. As a father, I can begin to imagine the grief he felt as his son rejected him and everything he stood for. Rather than writing the son off as a lost cause, the story seems to indicate that the father was constantly looking for him to return. In spite of his grief he kept hoping. When the prodigal returned, the father saw him coming in the distance and ran to meet him. Imagine this dignified man running out to greet his son. In those days, one who did what the son had done would be met by the village elders if he returned and officially banished. The father was not only overjoyed to see his son, he was also protecting him.

Before the son could get his speech out, his father told the servants to prepare for a huge blowout party. He covered the son’s rag’s with a luxurious robe, put good sandals on his feet, and a ring on his finger. All of these were things a beloved son would wear, not a servant. There were no words of disapproval or recrimination, only grace and compassion. When the elder brother acted like a jerk and refused to join the party, the father went to him with grace, reminding him that he was also a beloved son. Again, there were no harsh words from the father.

We have the same kind of Father. When we wander away from him, forgetting who we are, he is waiting patiently for us to return. He knows we will return because his Spirit draws us. We are told in Scripture that God’s kindness leads us to repentance. He doesn’t force us back and hold us against our will. It’s grace and love that brings us to him, and it’s grace and love that keeps us home. In the same way, when we think we somehow have to perform to cause the Father to love us more, or think our good deeds mean we are better than our brothers, the Father calls us to remember that he loves us because he loves us. He doesn’t love us any less when we screw up, and he doesn’t love us any more when we do good things.

Sometimes we forget who our Father is, and who we are as his children. God calls us back to him, not as a servant. He calls us back, not as someone who has earned his love. No, the Father calls us to return home, remembering that we are his beloved children. He is ready to welcome us with open arms and celebrate our return.

The Prodigal Son: The Younger Son
The Prodigal Son: The Elder Son

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The Prodigal Son: The Elder Son

The first post in this series looked at the main character in the story of the prodigal son; the younger son who had gone off with his inheritance and wasted it, and then came back. This post looks at the older son.

When the prodigal son returned home, there was one person who was conspicuously absent. The elder son was out in the fields, working as he had for years. In contrast to his younger brother, the older son had stayed home, working hard and obeying his father.

When he came in from another hard day’s work, the elder brother saw all the lights on in the house, heard the music and laughter, and noticed the activity of the servants. In answer to his questions, a servant replied that the younger son had returned and the father was welcoming him home with a huge party. The older son didn’t think this was such a good idea. In fact, he was pretty ticked off and refused to go into the house and join the festivities.

When the father came out to ask his oldest son to join them, he refused. He complained that during all the years he had spent doing everything the father had wanted, being the dutiful son, he had never even received one single goat to have a cookout with his friends. “On top of that, this son of yours has wasted his inheritance on wild parties and whores, and you’ve killed the fattened calf for him?”

How many of us have, at one or more times in our lives, been upset because grace has been shown to an individual who is a “worse sinner” than we are? (I see that hand. It’s mine) We just can’t believe that they got away with it! Our attitude is often the same as that of the Americans who rejoiced when Osama Bin-Laden was killed. That so-and-so got what he deserved. We want justice (usually meaning what the other person deserves) when it comes to others, yet many times we would prefer that mercy be shown to us. Sometimes, while the angels in heaven are rejoicing over one sinner who has repented, we are taking a wait and see attitude. After all, we don’t want to be played for a fool.

Sometimes we are like the elder brother when we think that because we have been good little boys and girls, God owes us. We wonder why God doesn’t answer our requests, because after all, we’ve been faithful in church, we’ve served others, we’ve had faith and claimed that answer, whatever. Then, when God doesn’t “come through” for us, we start looking around for answers. Maybe I didn’t have enough faith. Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough. Maybe I need to search my heart and see if there’s a sin I forgot to confess. Or, we begin to doubt the goodness of God toward us. “If God really loves me, why didn’t he give me what I want.”

Like the prodigal, the elder brother forgot who we was. Even though he had never left the property, he too had left home. He had forgotten the character of his father. The father was obviously a kind, loving, and generous man. He was full of grace and mercy, and wanted the best for his sons. He was quick to forgive, and to let past offenses stay in the past. Interestingly, that sounds a whole lot like our Father. He is slow to anger, and quick to forgive. He doesn’t dredge up our past and hold it against us. He loves his children with an everlasting love, and his heart is good to us.

We can not earn the grace of our Father. It is his to give freely, and his alone. We are not to look on others and complain when they don’t “get what they deserve.” Most of the time we don’t know how God is working in another individuals life. To paraphrase Aslan, God is not telling us their story, he is only telling us ours. Judging whether or not a person should receive grace is way above our pay grade. We are called to rejoice when others rejoice. Kind of like the angels.

We have all been the elder brother in some way or another. Our Abba is calling us to join the party.

The Prodigal Son: The Younger Son

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Repost: Regrets and Fears

This was originally posted on September 23, 2008.

I recently heard someone praying and this person stated that, “We come to you with hearts full of regret for the past, and with hearts full of fear of the future.” This caused me to think of our relationship to God and what should be the fruit of that relationship.

If we belong to the Father, we are his children. We are recipients of his love and grace. While our past is full of sin and mistakes, Jesus has redeemed our past on the cross. He has freed us from our sin and the guilt that comes from it. There are still times that I look and wish that I hadn’t done certain things or had done other things differently. The difference between that and a “heart full of regret” is that I realize that there is nothing I can do about most, if not all, of those things; but that Jesus has done something about them. He has forgiven me and has even used some of those things to draw me to himself. So, like the Apostle Paul, I can forget the things behind me, and continue on toward being formed into the image of Christ.

I’ll admit that I still struggle with worrying about the future. The Father is teaching me how to rest in his arms and trust him to do what is right and what is best. In Romans 8:15, Paul writes that God has given us a spirit, not of slavery to fear, but of sonship. By this spirit, we call God “Abba”. We can trust our Abba completely, as a little child trusts his daddy no matter what. 1 John 4:18 tells us that their is no fear in love, that perfect love drives out fear.

Child of Abba, take heart. There is nothing in your past that has not been redeemed by Jesus. The Father uses everything to make us more like Christ, even the times we’ve screwed up. There is nothing in your future that you need to fear. God is already there, and there is absolutely nothing that can separate you from his love. Learn to rest in that love and let it cast out fear.

Don’t let any person, trial, or circumstance try to convince you that God does not love you with an everlasting love. Don’t let anyone tell you that you must do X, Y, or Z in order for God to be pleased with you. He already is.

May you be overwhelmed with Abba’s love.

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The Prodigal Son: The Younger Son

Today, I’m starting a three part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.

The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.

The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.

There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.

Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.

The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.

Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.