Repeat Offenders

“Father, every family has a rascal someone who breaks the rules a juvenile delinquent of untold frustrations and sleepless nights a repeated offender and bearer of sad woe the problem child who needs the most discipline.

Is this why you love me most persistently? When you correct me, is it because I’m the one most contrary?

Or is it that you love me so much?”

 I wrote this thinking about Hebrews 12 and God’s purpose of chastening. I don’t pretend to understand this dynamic completely–all I can say is that my childhood was punctuated by much difficulty. But now, as a father (my two children are now grown), fatherhood has become far easier than my dad had with me.

7 “As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as his own children. Who ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by its father? 10 For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how.

But God’s discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in his holiness. 11 No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.”

Hebrews 12:7, 10-11

I really think we understand our Heavenly Father when we spend quality time with Hebrews 12. We are given insight into His care and into our own issues. It is a good thing He gives us— it enriches our spiritual lives.

It’s never nice to be corrected.

It’s not pleasant. Part of being corrected is being reminded that we’re not as righteous as we think we are. To be corrected strikes us to a reprimand, an admonition that something isn’t right inside of us.

The Father corrects His children–in many ways through a myriad of circumstances. He loves us far too much to allow us to continue in our sin. He’s making us into the image of Christ.

We should welcome His correction. He has a plan for you.

When He disciplines you, it only proves that He is your Father. It’s critical to remember: God’s correction is always for our good. It may be painful yes, but it comes with real hope. It’s not to harm or punish you.

“Father, I’m so sorry that I grieve you as often as I do. I promise to behave. Thank you for being a faithful Father who cares deeply for my soul. Amen.”

 Hannah Whitall Smith.

Nothing But the Blood

 

1 John 1:7, ESV

At first glance it seems that the Old Testament is a collection of extremely bloody books. So many sacrifices were made that the levitical priesthood had to sacrifice lambs 24 hours a day. People had this desperate need to cover their sins with an offering. This was instilled in them by the Law and their conscience. The guilt emanating from their sins must be covered by a lamb’s blood.

As our sins mount up (and they will) we have an innate need to cover them up.

Sin is almost never hidden, and never, ever exalted as a virtue. And yet we try to skate though our accumulation of many sins. We forget many, and try to excuse the more heinous. Our guilt condemns us, and we have no choice but to hide it, from ourselves, others, and from God. We can no longer pretend we’re without sin.

“Human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and can’t really get rid of it.”

-C.S. Lewis

The Jewish people no longer sacrifice lambs, and it seems the Gentiles have never caught on. But sin has never gone out-of-style. But yet there is still a way for God to forgive our sin. The New Testament teaches clearly that Jesus has offered His blood as the payment of every sin ever committed. His death wiped our slates clean, forever.

The New Testament is crystal clear on this. I’m not making this up.

The crucifixion of Jesus Christ had enough sufficiency to cover everyone, once, and for all. It seems astonishing, beyond belief and possibility. The blood it seems, has never lost its power. This may be why Christians can’t seem to ‘shut-up’ about their faith.

They ‘see’ something!

“Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus.”

Hebrews 10:19

We are given a ‘backstage pass.’

Simply put, you now have the confidence–sort of like ‘backstage passes,’ into God’s presence, all because of His death. The cross is far, far beyond a gold religious medallion worn around the neck. The cross of Christ, and more precisely His blood, is now regarded as complete righteousness for anyone (who by faith) receives it as his/her own. A brand-new confidence takes hold. “God loves me, and He really has forgiven me.” 

2 Corinthians 5:17

Our sins, from our fallenness, are now smothered in the blood of Jesus. That red blood makes us ‘white as snow’ in God’s analysis. At long last, the tremendous guilt is lifted from the believer, and they want others to know about it. Brokenbelievers’ everywhere are cheering.

We know we aren’t quite right, and we understand our sin, but we have become fans of Jesus Christ. After all, His death has brought us eternal life.

Becoming a Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I read a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came up and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal with those ugly things from his past. And yes, he was starting to become a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, or a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs.

Managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God is now our ministry.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us; we have been hurt, or we’ve wounded others by our sinfulness.

Are you a good steward of who you are? Maybe it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems.

I believe that you’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and fully redeems it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. He uses our pain to touch others deeply.

But Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that takes place inside us.

It really is his work, not ours. It’s then we finally understand. It’s then we become the broken healers that God can finally use.

And it’s then we can finally say: “The light has truly overcome the dark.

Becoming a steward of our pain is His doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that cripple and destroy. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll meet those who are waiting to hear our story. They’re walking through terrible pain and they don’t know what to do.

We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

To every believer still struggling about the sin of the past or sickness of the present–keep turning it over to Him. He will make it into something quite wonderful.

Make the Decision to Be Weak

 

Our society has pretty much embraced the American cultural icon of the cowboy.  We revere those who ride alone and hard. We are rugged individualists and hardened men making our own way.  Our society reflects this in subdued ways.  No matter what happens, we are fiercely free and independent.  We are ‘desperadoes’–we do whatever we think is best.

John Wayne, the ‘Alamo,’ and the biker with his Harley-Davidson on Route 66 have been our inspiration.  Each are distinctly heroic and carry our hopes and dreams.

We must understand that the Bible is not an American book.

It belongs to every tribe, race, and nation. 

A cowboy did not die for our sins (which are countless).  The way of discipleship does not take us through Luckenbach, Texas. We’re not desperados. We are Jesus’ disciples.

His Words to us are bold and entirely challenging in an amazingly fresh and different direction.  We are told to wash feet, to repeatedly turn the other cheek, to surrender all our rights, and then take the lowest place there is in every situation.

Our lives truly begin when we come under the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

Humility is to become the way we think and how we act, we have become slaves to righteousness.  Our vaunted independence has been toppled. This selfish crown has slipped. My willfulness still wants to stand instead of kneeling. We discover this has been the truth all along.  We have never ever been in control. 

He has been the King since before time, and will always be, for an eternity.

“Many Christians have what we might call a “cultural holiness”. They adapt to the character and behavior pattern of Christians around them. As the Christian culture around them is more or less holy, so these Christians are more or less holy. But God has not called us to be like those around us.

He has called us to be like Himself. Holiness is nothing less than conformity to the character of God”.

Jerry Bridges

Our churches often struggle over our personal issues of pride and stubbornness. 

I pose the following questions.  Are we honestly in a condition of being weak?  Can you serve with a basin and towel?  Is your heart that of a child? Do we see the world through the ‘lens’ of a soft and broken spirit?

I write these things surveying my own life. 

Self will and my hard heart fit ‘hand-and-glove’ with being that desperado.  I ride alone, making my own way, and I don’t make any disciples. I jettison my cross— my cross of discipleship.  I serve no one, unless it suits me.  Am I His disciple, or am I a man of my own?  Is He my Lord, or have I decided to claim that right for myself?

I only hope I have spoken the truth today. Forgive me if I offended.

“Lord, I am willing to receive what You give, to lack what You withhold, to relinquish what You take, to suffer what You inflict, to be what You require.”  Amen.