Stubborn Children In the Hands of a Loving God

Yesterday was one of those moments in the life of a parent. That moment when something silly -- stupid, even -- becomes something subtly heartbreaking. The situation: my daughter got caught with a candy wrapper. Though she claimed she was just throwing it away, circumstances -- and her overall demeanor -- suggested otherwise. But, she continued to deny any wrongdoing. A half hour later, I went out to the kitchen and noticed a piece of candy on the floor -- the very same kind which would have been found inside that empty wrapper. We confronted her with the evidence, which, when combined with the other circumstances of the evening, only solidified her guilt. But she wouldn't budge.

Several story changes and many tears later, she still wouldn't admit what she'd done. Of course, from a Mommy and Daddy perspective, the actual crime was nothing. She would have been reminded that we don't take food, particularly sweets, without permission, and possibly lost an after-school snack for a day. The big deal, for us, was simply that she wasn't telling the truth about it. This went on far longer than it ever would have, simply because she wouldn't admit what she'd done. And because of that, she got into more trouble, losing privileges for the week.

And the whole time, there she was, crying those big tears out of those huge blue eyes, breaking my heart with every drop. As her daddy, it killed me seeing her like that. I'll readily admit it took everything in me, during the conversation, to not just scoop her up into my arms, tell her everything was okay and that I believed her (even though I didn't), and send her off to bed with a conciliatory cookie. Yeah, I'm a sucker. I guess that's love.

The thing of it was, what I really and truly wanted was for her to simply be honest with us. To simply confess what she'd done and apologize. That one, simple thing, and I would happily have erased every indication of guilt. I'd have happily picked her up and kissed her tears and told her we loved her and forgave her, and always would. That she'd been forgiven even before she fessed up. But it was important to us that she confess. Vital, in fact. Not just for our own satisfaction, but in order for her to grow as a person. In order for her to learn to take responsibility for what she'd done. Because, without that understanding -- without taking that responsibility, our forgiveness is next to meaningless. She learns nothing, continues to justify what she'd done wrong, and keeps facing the consequences over and over again.

Maybe it makes me a bad parent, but in that moment, if she'd simply said, "I'm sorry," there probably would have been no punishment at all. It's just a stupid piece of candy, and all I wanted to do was comfort my little girl.

It was one of those moments in which I truly believed I finally understood God. At least, I finally understood His unconditional love and desire to forgive. I finally understood, in some very small way, His own heartbreak. Imagine, there He is -- having already paid the penalty for what we've done wrong -- just waiting on us to acknowledge it. To simply confess. To say, "Lord, yes, I've done something wrong. I've disobeyed you. I have sinned and turned away from what was right."

He waits for that moment with each one of us, wanting nothing more than to scoop us up into His arms, wipe away our tears of guilt, and say, "I love you. I forgive you."

 If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:8 & 9)

Blotted Out

 Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that He may send Jesus Christ, who was preached to you before, whom heaven must receive until the times of restoration of all things, which God has spoken by the mouth of all His holy prophets since the world began. (Acts 3:19-21)

I love the phrase, "blotted out." It shows the power of forgiveness in Christ. It says that when God forgives, it's not a simple matter of simply deciding not to punish you for your past; but a promise that those sins are no longer a part of who you are, as far as He's concerned.

When I was a kid, I had this terrifying idea of Heaven and judgement. I had this picture in my head of God sitting on His throne, me standing there, small and scared, watching the movie of my life as He picked apart my every action. Mortifying! Then, when it was all over, all said and done, He would weigh all that sin against the grace and mercy of His son, and I'd escape Hell.

But "blotted out" tells us that's not what's going to happen. "Blotted out" says when I get to Heaven, what He's going to see is Christ in me, and then stack up how I've lived for Him. All that sin, all that filth, gone, as though it never happened.

See, God sees what we do. He knows when we sin, and that sin just piles up, slowly adding to the destruction of our immortal souls. That's life before repentance, and without Christ, that is the criteria on which we will be judged. But in Christ, we have the power to turn from that sin, and in the turning, leave it behind. And as Psalm 103 tells us, that transgression against His holiness is removed from us "as far as the East is from the West." It's no longer a part of us. It no longer holds us back, and is no longer even recognized by God.

How refreshing.
 

Grace Found In Murder

“Yet now, brethren, I know that you did it in ignorance, as did also your rulers. But those things which God foretold by the mouth of all His prophets, that the Christ would suffer, He has thus fulfilled." (Acts 3:17-18)

As Peter continued his message to the men of Israel, this is when he really started getting to the meat of the message. Up to this point was illustration: the healing, the reminder of the crucifixion, the mini-lesson in God's power. These were a preamble to the Gospel message Peter was about to share. This next part of the message, Peter began by echoing the words of Jesus. He'd already reminded these men about the man they killed, and now he was reminding them of what He said from the cross: "Father, forgive them, they don't know what they're doing." 

But what were they doing? It turns out, much like Joseph's brothers, their actions were being used to fulfill God's will, more or less in spite of their intentions. 

What grace! 

In spite of wicked and jealous hearts, God provided a way for even these men to be saved -- and He did it using the very wickedness He'd come to heal! 

The fact is, we've all stepped outside of God's will. Romans 3:23 reminds us, all -- everyone -- has sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Many of us have made such a mess of things, we don't know whether we can ever be right with God. We wonder how a just and righteous God could ever forgive the things we've done, the lives we've lived. 

Yet, even in our sins, we discover a path back to Him, if we choose to find it. Peter echoed the words of Christ in offering salvation, even to the men who clamored for Jesus' execution. Surely, God has grace enough for you, too.

Judas's Grisly End

And in those days Peter stood up in the midst of the disciples (altogether the number of names was about a hundred and twenty), and said, “Men and brethren, this Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke before by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus;  for he was numbered with us and obtained a part in this ministry.”

(Now this man purchased a field with the wages of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst open in the middle and all his entrails gushed out. And it became known to all those dwelling in Jerusalem; so that field is called in their own language, Akel Dama, that is, Field of Blood.)
“For it is written in the Book of Psalms:

‘Let his dwelling place be desolate,
And let no one live in it’;

and,‘Let another take his office.’ (Acts 1:15-20)

As an aside, in what seems like almost a throw-away passage in Acts 1, the author describes the horrifying death of Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Jesus. Matthew 27 tells us Judas's suicide was the result of his deep remorse over his betrayal. 

I often think about Judas. The simple reality was, somebody had to turn Jesus in. But did Judas have to be condemned? The answer, I think, tells us something about God's relationship with us. Though we have an all-knowing God who sets the course of all things, our actions remain our choice. God didn't force Judas to turn on Jesus; that was Judas's choice, and his alone. But even then, I believe Judas could have been redeemed. 

This is not unprecedented; indeed, you might say the story of Joseph parallels with that of Jesus almost perfectly. Betrayed by his brothers -- those in whom he ought to be able to trust with his very life -- Joseph was sold into slavery. But, we discover, this act of betrayal was ultimately vital in the salvation of Jacob (Israel) and his sons. In fact, without this horrific act on the part of Joseph's brothers, the nation of Israel would not exist. Joseph himself recognizes this fact when he forgives his remorseful brothers:

But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive. (Genesis 50:20)

So, just as Joseph forgave his brothers and reconciled with them, I believe even Judas was not too far gone for the grace of God. He, unfortunately, allowed his remorse to lead him to death instead of the arms of Grace. If only he could have learned the lesson of Joseph's brothers! If he'd only known the truth: we can't sin too big for God. 

Let me say that another way: there is only one sin in all of Scripture which Christ has declared unforgivable, and that is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (Matthew 12:31-32). Speak against Me, He says, and you'll be forgiven. So, in fact, Jesus declares in plain language that even Judas could have sought, and been granted, forgiveness for his actions. 

No matter what you've done, who you've hurt, where you've been... you aren't too far gone for Grace. God is bigger than your sin. He is an infinite God with infinite stores of grace. Judas's final sin was despair -- despair too great for him to escape. Judas chose that despair over the loving gaze of God. You needn't make that mistake. God's grace is big enough for me, and it's big enough for you. All you need to do is let go of your pride, and let Him take the guilt away. 

You've held onto it long enough.

Four Facts About Sin and Temptation

Drug addict. Alcoholic. Gay. Loose. Gossip. Bully. Hypocrite.

All too often, we define others by the sin in their lives. We label and judge on the nature of their fallenness, turning their wounds into their identity. It only makes sense for us to do this, though. After all, on some level, we do it to ourselves, too. We define ourselves on how we are tempted. And so we define others the same way.

But we've forgotten the truth about sin and temptation. There's Good News to be had here, and we needn't collapse under the weight of our own imperfections. And we certainly needn't add the weight of our own judgement onto the burdens of others.

Here are four forgotten facts about sin and temptation, straight out of the Bible.

1. Temptation is not sin.
Hebrews 4:15 tells us, "For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin."

Here's a truth that shouldn't be controversial: it isn't a sin to be tempted by homosexuality. It isn't a sin to be an alcoholic. Sin is not temptation, and temptation is not sin. Jesus Himself was taken into the desert and tempted. But He did not sin. See the difference?

2. Temptation may never go away
While it's true that God may remove temptation from some people, it's not always the case. I've certainly heard wonderful testimonies from people who stopped drinking as soon as Christ entered their lives. I've heard of God gradually healing people of sexual temptation, of homosexual desires, or of the desire for drugs. Sometimes, He removes these heavier temptations from us. But for every case I've heard where God removes temptation, I've heard countless others where He has not. 

Why? Because in our weakness, we rely on Him, and He is made strong. 

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.(2 Corinthians 12:9)

3. You are not your sin
Your sin doesn't define who you are. 

When Jesus had raised Himself up and saw no one but the woman, He said to her, “Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?”
She said, “No one, Lord.”
And Jesus said to her, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.” (John 8:10-11)

"Go and sin no more." When Jesus was confronted by the legalists over the woman caught in adultery, His response was to challenge the first person without sin to cast the first stone. No one was able. But it was His words to her that were most telling. She wasn't an adulteress. It wasn't who she was. It was something she did. And she was forgiven, and empowered to leave that sin behind. 

And if you're not defined by sin, your identity certainly isn't tied to your temptation.

4. Sin can be forgiven.

Therefore, from now on, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know Him thus no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new. Now all things are of God, who has reconciled us to Himself through Jesus Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation... (2 Corinthians 5:16-18)

Of Presidents, Bears, and Failing To Do The Wrong Thing

Today is Teddy Bear Day. Most people have heard the story of how the Teddy Bear came to be. It started in 1902, when, after a frustrating hunting experience, President Teddy Roosevelt was presented with a baby bear. Mr. Roosevelt, the presenter suggested, might like to shoot this bear so at least they wouldn't go home empty-handed. The president of course refused, and the incident was portrayed in a newspaper cartoon. A toy maker picked up on the idea, and the rest is history.

Originally, I was going to use today to illustrate something about mercy. Instead, I'd like to point out how badly we need it. See, Roosevelt isn't remembered in this incident for showing mercy to this baby bear. Not really. Rather, he's the hero of this tale simply for refusing to do something horrible.

Think about it. This small bear cub hadn't done anything to the hunting party. It hadn't even grown into a mature adult. Whether or not you agree with hunting as a sport, I think anyone with a heart pretty much understands why shooting the cub would've been a rotten thing to do. This isn't mercy; it's humanity. That the incident was commemorated tells us something about ourselves, I think.

We, the human race, tends to see simple kindness as something extraordinary. We have this idea that we deserve to be rewarded somehow for not taking part in doing the wrong thing, or because we managed, somehow, to do what's right.

I'll never forget the day when, as a substitute teacher, I was asked by my students about drug use. Actually, I believe the direct quote was, "I bet you did a lot of drugs in college, huh?" He really wanted to know. So I told him: no. Not even once. I've never been drunk, and I've never even experimented with drugs. The students were incredulous. How did I manage that? How did I get through college and not do drugs? It's just sort of taken for granted that, at a certain age, you're expected to do the wrong thing, and anyone who fails to do the wrong thing is either a hero or pariah. I'm honestly not sure, to this day, how they viewed me.

But what all this tells me is simply this: we need a savior. All of us. It's so easy to do the wrong thing. Doing the right thing, even if, in hindsight it was as simple as just making a decision, can seem like an insurmountable challenge at the time. The truth about human nature is that defaulting to the wrong choice is ingrained in all of us. And that's why I need God. That's why Jesus came. Because even though we all do it right now and then, even though anyone can (theoretically) avoid the bad and embrace the good, much of the time, we simply don't.

My prayer this morning is that God help each of us to stop looking for the pat on the back every time we do the right thing. That He help us instead see our need for Him. That He forgive us our depravity which causes even simple acts of kindness to seem extraordinary, and that we look to Him as the perfect example of how to live a truly good life.

Hey, you. With the bomb strapped to your chest. I love you.

We read it so often, I'm afraid it's gotten too easy to fail to recognize the power of the scene. To misunderstand the significance of a man forgiving his murderers, even while he is being murdered. And yet, that's exactly the scene set before us in Luke 23.

And when they had come to the place called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the criminals, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do. (vs 33-34)

Right here, in this act of Divine forgiveness, is where we learn two very important things about Jesus Christ. First, that He really did come to create a path between us and God; that He was so focused on that cause and mission He was not only willing to die for it, but still loved those who killed Him over it. Second, we learn He has not commanded anything of us that He was unwilling to do. 

Early in His ministry, Jesus gave a sermon. This sermon not only detailed what He expected of each of us, but told us how we would accomplish it: because it set the tone for His entire ministry. 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so?  Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)

We will have enemies. This is a fact of life. There are people on this planet who hate you only because of where you happen to live, the nationality you happen to have grown up in. They may not even know you, but they hate you. And there are people who hate you personally. We are faced daily with a choice: do we hate them back? Or do we love them?

And I don't mean just saying the words. It becomes all too easy to say you love your enemies. But to actively love. 

Looking at my own life, I wonder how often I pray for Al Qaeda. Not just the organization, but for the extremists, the hate-filled individuals who make up the organization. How many times have I asked God to quiet their hearts, and fill them with an understanding of His Grace? 

How often do I argue with or mock the misguided children of Westboro Baptist (the infamous funeral protestors), rather than pray for them to know and understand the love of Christ? 

When it comes to those with whom I strongly disagree politically or religiously, do I spend more time formulating an argument, rolling my eyes, and wishing they'd just shut up... or praying that they spend each day fervently seeking God; praying that He be with them in their troubles, and for the health of their families?

When it comes to those who hate and hurt me, the question is, do I hate back? Or do I love, as Jesus loves, enough to forgive?

God Forgot

"Love is patient. Love is kind." You don't even have to be a biblical scholar to be familiar with the description in 1 Corinthians 13, of all the things love is. Chances are, if you've attended a wedding, pretty much ever, you've heard these words. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. (vs.4)" But did you know love is also forgetful?

True story. Listen to verse 5: "It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."

If there's a better description of forgiveness, I don't know what it is. It's not a mere matter of accepting an apology. Love eliminates the wrongdoing from the dynamic of the relationship.  

Now, we know from 1 John 4:8 that God, Himself, is Love. It's not just that he loves us, it's that Love is who He is. It's his very essence and nature. This means that, when we read 1 Corinthians 13 -- the Love Chapter -- what we're really getting is a crash course in the personhood of our Heavenly Father. God is patient and kind. And God keeps no record of wrongs. 

This means that, once we recognize the sin in our lives, recognize God for who He is, accept our blame for what we've done and the Grace of Christ who died as a final sacrifice, we are reconciled with God, and our past is gone. In our humanity, to be sure, we still deal with the consequences of what we've done... but as far as our relationship with God is concerned, our past sin is simply no longer a part of the equation. 

Now here's a mystery: we know from Scripture that God is omniscient -- that is, all-knowing. Jesus reminds us in Matthew 10 and Luke 12 that even the hairs on our heads are numbered. Yet, He does not remember our sin. How is this possible? How is it possible that a God who knows everything has separated us from our misdeeds "as far as the east is from the west (Ps 103:12)," and remembers them no more (Isaiah 43:25)? 

Put simply: Because, by the blood of Jesus Christ, and the grace of the Almighty, those sins no longer exist.

Happy Forgiveness Day!

Happy Forgiveness Day. No, really. Today is Forgiveness Day. This should be on every single Christian's calendar. A day to celebrate forgiveness! A day to remember that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8)!

There we were, enemies of God (Romans 5:10), but reconciled to Him through the willing sacrifice of His son. If it hasn't struck you how amazing this idea is, consider: have you ever had an enemy? Somebody you just can't get along with, no matter how hard you try? You may not even call them an "enemy" (I mean, who even uses that word anymore?)... but they certainly aren't your friends. Sure, if they asked you to, you'd happily forgive them for however they wronged you... but would you go after them? Would you be the one to take that step at restoration? Would you be the first one to reach out and offer forgiveness -- and truly mean it? And, if they failed to see that they did anything wrong, if they persisted in denying you, if they still talked about you behind your back or undermined what you did with your life... would you still be willing to die to save their lives?

Would you do that? Because that's what Jesus did. That's what God still does! And, what's more, He chases after those who still deny Him by using those of us who are already beneficiaries of His grace to do so! And, He expects those who have been forgiven to also forgive. That person I mentioned earlier? That enemy? Forgiveness of that person isn't an option -- whether they ask for it or not.

Consider the Lord's Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13):

Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
As we forgive our debtors.
And do not lead us into temptation,
But deliver us from the evil one.
For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen. (Emphasis mine)

Did you catch that? Forgive us as we forgive! And lest we think that means something other than what it means, Jesus is sure to clarify: 

For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. (Matthew 6:14-15)

Does that thought scare or comfort you? That when we ask God to forgive us as -- in the same way -- we forgive others, He just might? 

We are forgiven in our imperfection. Let's celebrate that today -- and every day -- by imitating our Savior and doing likewise!

Eraser Smudge

The eraser is a wonderful invention, is it not? In the best cases, you can use the rubber eraser to remove a mistake or even simply change a word or two. But -- and maybe it's just because I write so hard -- I can never seem to completely erase the mistakes I've made with one of those rubber erasers, whether it's on the tip of a pencil or one of those big pink things. Try as I might, the ghost of my mistake remains. And no matter how hard I try, there it stays. I'm more likely to rip the paper than I am to remove that little, almost-invisible remnant of error.

Sin can feel that way at times. We know the blood of Christ erases our sin from our lives. And yet, we in our humanity keep finding those sticky little remnants (Romans 7:15). Errant thoughts, guilt, and constant temptation can keep us trying and trying in our own strength get rid of those little smudges until we finally tear an irreparable hole.

But 1 John 1:9 tells us, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

Meanwhile, Psalm 103:12 reminds us, "As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us."

If we continue to sin, that's not God having failed to remove the sin from our lives -- rather it is our own humanity, which will be exploited by Satan in an attempt to discourage believers and non-believers alike.

Praise God, however, because He has forgiven -- and not only forgiven, but cleansed -- our unrighteousness. And on the day we finally stand before His throne, it will be as pure, clean, and holy children.  

We All Fall Down

Today is Ash Wednesday. Traditionally, this first day of Lent, we begin our 40 days of sacrifice with sorrow and remembrance of our wicked lives. The ashes are representative of this deep sadness and regret -- a symbol sprinkled throughout the Old Testament of anguish.

More than anything, it is a sign of repentance. A way to humbly come before God with an expression of sorrow for how we have sinned against Him (Matthew 11:20-22).

These next 40 days we know as Lent are a great reminder of everything Jesus gave up in order to bring us closer to Himself. Of how He traded Divinity for Humanity, how He allowed Himself to hunger, thirst, and be tempted, so He could then lead a life of service before being brutalized and murdered -- all so you and I wouldn't have to suffer the eternal consequence of Godless lives. Ash Wednesday reminds us of the sorrow and humility with which we approach the Throne of Grace. We understand our position in comparison with God, and realize we haven't the right to even ask forgiveness -- but that He has freely and willingly offered it anyway.

I confess I have mixed feelings about Ash Wednesday. When I sin before my God, I am reminded of how little I have to offer Him -- that my deeds and what material possessions I have are as ashes before His glory. But at the same time, Psalm 103:12 tells us "as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us." 

So are we, then, to be sorrowful for a life God Himself no longer remembers? Now that we are forgiven, are we to drape ourselves in sackcloth and ashes, to continue to regret the sins which are no longer a part of who we are? I believe Christ removed that Sin from my life, and can't therefore grieve over it, but instead must rejoice in knowing I am clean. 

I can only conclude Ash Wednesday is indeed for all of us. Because we all sin and fall short of the Glory of God. And when we do, we must humble ourselves in deep sorrow, and come before God to repent. But once forgiven, Ash Wednesday is a way to remember who we once were, and rejoice that Christ has transformed us.

I'd Rather Be Burdened With Christ

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28-29)

It can be so easy to get caught up in the do's and don't's of Christianity some times. Sadly, this is as much true for believers as it is for non-believers, who see this whole church thing as nothing more than a big set of rules to follow. How easily we miss the point!

The real truth is, Sin, and not faith, is our burden. It's hard to see when we're drenched in wrongdoing, but the stuff, the muck, that weighs us down is nothing more or less than our own human nature. We are burdened by this world; dragged down by our sin, and the sins of this world. 

The truth of Jesus is that He came, not to burden us with religion, but to release us from the bondage of sin. Once we acknowledge that there really is a right and a wrong, and that we have been on the wrong side of it, we can lift that burden to Christ.

I've often wondered what was meant when He said "my yoke is light." I've begun to realize the reason His yoke is so much easier than the one we carry without Him is that He does most of the heavy lifting.

Not Who I Am Anymore

A quick story: My younger brother spent a good chunk of his life as the so-called "black sheep" of the family. Even in school, his tendency to talk first and consider the consequences later would draw the ire of teachers and administrators alike. He'd spend a Summer learning how to calm himself down, only to face another school year of the same old trouble.

The real problem wasn't in his behavior from the onset of the year, but with his reputation from the year before. Trouble was expected. He was treated like a troublemaker, and so acted like one. He expressed this frustration to me on more than one occasion: how can I hope to change my ways if they won't LET me -- and why should I bother?

In fairness to the school system, they had no way of knowing how he had matured during those summers, or the decisions he made to at least try to behave. All they had to go on was the past.

With God, it's different:

And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.

So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. (2 Corinthians 5:15-19)

Since it was Christ Himself who remade us, He no longer holds our past against us. In fact, as Psalm 103:12 says, he has removed it from us, "as far as the East is from the West."

Our past is no longer a part of who we are. He literally cannot hold our past against us, once He has taken it away, because we are no longer the same person! We are, thanks to the mercy and sacrifice of Christ, an entirely NEW creation!

If the Shoebox Fits

photo from ehow

The Family -- that is,  the radio station where I work -- is collecting shoeboxes to hold Christmas gifts for families in need.  So, yesterday, as I was bringing in some extras we had floating around the house, I started to wonder: if it no longer holds shoes, is it still a shoe box?

Is it what it is because that's how it was made, or is it defined instead by what's in it? When we put a present in it and wrap it in nice paper, has it ceased to be a simple shoebox and become a gift box?

I don't know about boxes, but Man is defined by what's inside. On the outside, man is simple enough: lumps of flesh, tissue of various textures and uses, stacks of bone... but this is the stuff that houses the man; not who the man actually is.

Scripture tells us we were born sinners. Paul says, in Romans 5:12-14

Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned—To be sure, sin was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law.  Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come.

However, 2 Corinthians 5:17 says that, when we are Forgiven and Justified by Christ, we become new creations. Nothing has changed on the outside, but we have been repurposed. Though we are still the same box we were before, what was inside has been pulled out and replaced with Grace; and that has changed who we are. 

Just Because I Forgive You Doesn't Mean I Like You Very Much

Weird thing about Christianity: when it comes down to it, nearly every aspect of the Faith has forgiveness as a starting point. For the past several weeks,  no matter what the topic of conversation, be it in church or small groups, or even at work, the talk always circled back, somehow, to the issue of forgiveness.

I may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but at some point, it occurred to me that God might just be trying to send me a message.

by Mike Walters, borrowed from Strictly Gospel

See, I'm not generally one to hold a grudge -- so long as I'm the only one who's been hurt. When my family has been wounded, however, that's a different story entirely. The anger turns into this little ball that settles down into the pit of my stomach and I tell myself I don't need to forgive this person or that,  because they haven't asked me personally. Never mind that, number one, I wasn't the person they hurt and so, two, they have no idea they need to ask my forgiveness. If I can justify my grudge,  why on earth would I reach out -- regardless of whether the person who was actually hurt has forgiven.

At some point, though, this argument breaks down, even for me. So, grudgingly,  I "forgive" them. At least, I tell God I did, and just for good measure, I tell myself, too. But,  I am always sure to remind myself, that doesn't mean I have to give them access to my life. That doesn't mean I have to actually like them. Right?

Except.

If I decide I don't "like" somebody, based entirely upon an act I've supposedly forgiven,  is that really forgiveness?

What if Jesus were to say, "You know, I forgive you of your trespasses against Me, but I'm really not interested in having you in My House?" Could we consider ourselves forgiven,  when the end result is the same as condemnation?

There's a part of the Lord's Prayer that honestly scares me a little. "Forgive us our debts," Jesus asks, "as we forgive our debtors (Matthew 6:12)."

What if God actually did forgive us as -- the same way -- we forgave others?

So... THIS Is Love.

My 4-year-old daughter said something profound yesterday. "I love Jesus because He is in my heart," she said. The simple faith and trust of a small child, and it made my wife and me smile. But she didn't stop there. "That is why I can love him," she said. "That's why I can love everybody."

We had,  in fact, been talking that evening with friends about how God often speaks to us the same way we speak to our children. Sometimes simply. Sometimes bluntly. Sometimes with an air of exasperation. What we didn't talk about was how often God speaks through our children.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)

Anyone can love somebody who loves them back. Only in Christ can we love those who do not. I've been learning lessons about love and forgiveness in my own life, slowly realizing that I need to forgive as I am forgiven, and to love as I am loved. It took my daughter to remind me that I can't do it without the Spirit of the Living God.

2 Timothy 1:7 reminds us of this: "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline."

Galatians 5 reminds us that Love is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. 

Are you having a hard time forgiving somebody who, maybe, doesn't even know they need it? Is it hard, sometimes, to love the unlovable? In our own strength, this can be -- it is -- an impossible task. But, because Jesus loved us first, we can love everybody. Just ask my daughter.