Resistance

I've been thinking about what the author of Hebrews wrote: "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood." (Hebrews 12:4) And Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount, "If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell." (Matthew 5:29-30) How many people today come anywhere near this? It seems that our struggle with sin today may go as far as doing what might be a little inconvenient. But God forbid anything which might make a fundamental change in how I live my life. I know that if I chopped off a hand or plucked out an eye, that would seriously change some things. What sort of response might be comparable to that in my life today? How far will I go to "resist the devil, [that he might] flee from [me]" (James 4:7)?

The slightly broader context on the quote above (Hebrews 12:1-13):

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons:

"My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
because the Lord disciplines those he loves,
and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son."

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live! Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. "Make level paths for your feet," so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

Malaise

I've been in a funk recently. Not sure what's up, but I just don't feel too motivated to do much of anything. This is kinda bad, since I'm supposed to be taking my A exam soon to determine my future. I think a lot of what's going into this is not interacting very much with people - it's kind of a vicious cycle, because I don't get much work done, so I feel like I have to spend more time alone in my office, and then I get more into this funk from not spending quality time with my friends. I spent a chunk of time tonight looking at a bunch of my friends' wedding pictures on facebook from the last few months. Apparently this marriage thing is the hip thing to do these days. I'm gonna read my Bible and go to bed.

Confidence

Several years ago, when I was first beginning to come to an understanding of what it means to follow God, I quickly ran into the doctrine of eternal security and election. This is still a very tricky doctrine, but it no longer troubles me as it did in the past.

I read passages such as Hebrews 6:4-6 and wondered about its implications, particularly to those who leave the church. In an Arminian interpretation, it seems like you only get one chance. If you're saved once and fall away, there's no coming back (either for some theological reason, or else because such a person never would come back in the first place). A Calvinist perspective says that the one who fell away is either still saved, or else he never truly knew Christ in the first place. Matthew 7:21-23 tells us that there are many who believe they are Christian, but who Jesus never knew. In either case, I was worried about whether I was one such person.

I talked to a friend at the time, a more mature believer, and he assured me that we can indeed have this certainty. He compared his relationship with God to his relationship with his new wife - while it is certainly physically possible that something could happen that he ends up cheating on his wife, he knew with an absolute certainty -- from a deep personal experience of his relationship in the past and present -- that it would never happen.

I'm not typically quite as confident about my own behavior - I know that I lack discipline and that I'm often liable to do or not do otherwise to what I've previously asserted. In short, I'm prone to fickleness in my actions. But over the past several years, I have indeed grown in confidence of my faith, just like my friend promised. I know now with utmost confidence that no matter what happens, in the end I will turn to God. I know this from past experience - how I've reacted to different situations - and from how I presently understand God. (Of course, I say this with the caveat that only God can truly see my heart, and that better than I myself can see it, so it is possible I'm fooling myself, but that's not really worth considering).

However, I've already briefly mention another area where I lack confidence - my own actions. I find in myself a disturbing doublemindedness reminiscent of the latter half of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, in which my evil and good sides plot against one another for dominance of my body. I can see one minute with tearful clarity the depth of my sin and its effects, and the next minute entertain ideas of further sin, pondering how I can set up traps to tempt myself in the future in an effort to more fully indulge my fleshly desires. I think about the verse in James,

If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.
-- James 1:5-8

I almost find it the other way around. I am double minded, and have prayed and prayed about the same things, and after all this, I doubt even more because I'm not even sure whether I will fall to temptation in just the next day. I think about the woman who asked Jesus to help her with her unbelief.

I know from experience that uncertainties can change. I've seen my faith grow from infancy to certainty in the last six years. I want the same sort of certainty here too. Right after telling about the false believers, Jesus taught

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."
-- Matthew 7:24-27

I long for a house that won't fall when the rains come down and the streams rise and the winds blow. But it seems almost circular - how do I put these words into practice when that's the whole problem in the first place? All I can think of is this hymn:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand.
-- Edward Mote (1836)

My hope isn't built on my own merit, but on Jesus'. So I'll just keep praying.

Spiritual Buffalo

I've been teasing out a few posts for the last week now, and I think I've finally solidified the first piece out of it all.

Last weekend, I saw my current favorite artist (if it hasn't been obvious up until now), Sara Groves, in concert. She prefaced the title song of her latest album, "Add To The Beauty", with a story. Many years ago she saw the movie "Dances with Wolves" and a scene that particularly struck her and stuck with her was the one where they find a huge number of buffalo slaughtered, with the myriad of useful parts just wasted. More recently in Africa, she realized that she hadn't been using "all of her spiritual buffalo" -- that the various things in her life could be used for much greater purposes in God's kingdom.

This idea is tied closely with redemption. When God redeems us, we primarily understand it to refer to the justification and forgiveness of sins we receive from Christ's death. But another part is sanctification, which I understand to mean that while we are on earth, He is progressively making us to increase in holiness, and in likeness to him. We have the command to "be perfect, as your heavenly father is perfect" -- part of our redemption is the daily steps in that direction, through God's grace.

I now think of passages like Romans 6:13, instructing us to offer the parts of our bodies to God as instruments of righteousness, and 1 Corinthians 10:31, saying that whether we eat, drink, or whatever we do, to do it for the glory of God. These are referring to individual actions and compartments of our lives, and each and every one of them is to be individually redeemed along with the whole. Thinking in this framework has helped me greatly in the past week to look to God in many more ways than I had before, and to flee from temptations. I find myself praying that these little things -- my eating and drinking, my going and coming, my work, school, and leisure, and many more things -- would all be redeemed. And when I find myself considering a markedly "unredeemed" course of action in one of these areas, it occurs to me that God does care about how I use the resources He's given to me, including the situation at hand.

Anyway, here's the song:

We come with beautiful secrets
We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls
We come to every new morning
With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations
It brings redemption to life and work
To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community
It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
-- Sara Groves, Add To The Beauty, "Add To The Beauty" (2006)

Rain

Okay, I have another Sara Groves song. I promise this can't go on forever (there's only so many songs to quote). But it's certainly true that I am heavily influenced by music, for better or worse. I think in this case it's for better.

Anyway, I'm trying to wrestle with trials and temptations, particularly my response. I've meditated on James 1 over and over again:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverence. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
...
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. When tempted, no one should say, "God is tempting me." For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.
-- James 1:2-4,12-15 (emphasis added)

Perseverence. Endurance. I think of a marathon -- for the entire length of the race, the runner just has to keep going. At any point, he could make a one-time decision to stop, but in order to finish the race, he must continuously choose to endure the difficulty and press on to the goal. On a related note, this is part of why I have no hair: shaving takes a one-time decision, but it takes patience to grow it out (not that I particularly want to do this anyway).

So what does all this have to do with rain? The very pain of the work-out is actually a good thing. The sore muscles the next day indicate that they're being actively transformed into stronger muscles. I've been listening to this song a lot in the last few days:

Call it what you will, I call it rain
When troubles come and pan against my soul
Go in if you like, I will remain
And let the washing waters make me whole

Just when I'm sure that I can't bear the rain
A tiny leaf starts pushing through the ground
In a place where the soil was too dry to sustain it
A new tiny flower can be found

Once I was stuck, I thought things would never change
And I watched that cloud pass through the sky
And right before my eyes it took a different shape
And I knew, so would the clouds in my own life

And the flowers come to show
That all that rain was helping me to grow
-- Sara Groves, Past The Wishing, "Rain" (1994)

So I know what I have to do (I've known for ages) -- when the rain comes, I need to stay outside and endure it, rather than taking the easy way out and running for cover. The rain is good for me, but only if I continually make the decision to bear it.