A Good Reminder

Really great article by Tullian Tchividjian about grace, holiness, and accountability groups.

Reminders are More Effective than Rebukes

Here’s a snippet:

The real reason, however, that I hate the kind of “accountability groups” described above is because the primary (almost exclusive, in my experience) focus is always on our sin, not on our Savior. Because of this, these groups breed self-righteousness, guilt, and the almost irresistible temptation to pretend–to be less than honest. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in “accountability groups” where there has been little to no attention given to the gospel whatsoever. There’s no reminder of what Christ has done for our sin–”cleansing us from its guilt and power”–and the resources that are already ours by virtue of our union with him.  These groups produce a “do more, try harder” moralism that robs us of the joy and freedom Jesus paid dearly to secure for us. They start with the narcissistic presupposition that Christianity is all about cleaning up and getting better–it’s all about personal improvement.

But it’s not!

 

 

 

 

 

Eternity Leaking

What is this fearful obsession I have with not being holy enough?  Maybe spiritual residue from a youth spent in Pentecostal churches. Maybe an abominable self-centeredness that somehow thrusts my personal sanctification to the forefront of my spiritual concerns. It is paranoia parading as devotion.

“…because by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.” (Hebrews 10:14, NIV)
“For by a single offering He has forever completely cleansed and perfected those who are consecrated and made holy.” (Hebrews 10:14, AMP)

It’s all already done. Forever. Now I can relax, live joyfully, and trust God to continually sanctify me. But the problem is I can’t.

Maybe I am just NOW beginning to grasp  this grace. It is totally outrageous to me that there is nothing left to do. That I don’t have to anticipate punishment (or punish myself).  God has this ongoing project of making everything right. And, for me, that means He is letting the eternal reality of perfection leak into this present moment to make me holy.  Does that mean I am absolved of all responsibility?  I prefer to think of it as free from all spiritual anxiety.

A One Sentence Sermon

Stayed out too late for my birthday last night.  I was late to church this morning. But I got there in time to hear the pastor say this: “Are you holy enough that just your presence causes people to act different?”

He had been talking about Zacchaeus and how just the mere encounter with Jesus compelled Zacchaeus to change his ways.  Do we have that kind of effect on people?  Do they see the Jesus in us?

Are you holy enough that just your presence causes people to act different?

I’m just gonna let that one sentence preach to me for a while.

Holiness is Hard

Really, it is.

Construction Workers

It has never been a one-man project.  The building of the temple, I mean.

The Book of Ezra…

The king of Persia issues a decree allowing the exiled Jews to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the altar and the temple.  This Cyrus was not a man of The Holy God of Israel.  (It’s amazing who works in your favor when God engineers your circumstances.) Anyway, these exiles had been taken captive and had their holy place pillaged by that king of Babylon, Nebucha-what’s-his-name.  Now they are going back.  Returning.  Rebuilding.  There was Zerubbabel.  There was Ezra and later Nehemiah. But there  were others.  Thousands of others.

I was struck by how many people the project of rebuilding required.  I mean, hey, this was no weekend side-gig. Round up the jocks from the remnant and throw some stones together.  Quite the contrary.  The exiles settled, they gathered supplies, they planned, they assembled.  This was a long endeavor.  This was a communal endeavor.  Carpenters, masons, musicians…(oh my!)  The dwelling place of the Most High is too grand for two hands.

And yet somehow we ourselves, as temples of the Living God, undertake our building and rebuilding on our own.  Here’s the thing. The book of Ezra is historical. It’s not allegorical.  It’s not metaphorical. But it does provide some powerful imagery concerning the temple.  Do we notice how much manpower the rebuilding of the temple demanded?   May I suggest that building temples is no less communal now than it was then!  I’m not talking about constructing church buildings;  I’m talking about our lives.  All of our talk about “Christian community”…It’s not just about having like-minded friends.  It’s not just about sharing prayer requests over Starbucks lattes.  Why do we need community?  Why is this work communal?  Because the work of a holy place is arduous and requires a multiplicity of skills that no one man possesses. It is not work we can do on our own.

As I examine my life today, I see the lack.  A lack of diligent workers who will convene with unified purpose to help build me, this temple of the Living God.  My prayer today is that God would bring people into my life (and carry me into others’ lives) that will dirty their hands  in the task of rebuilding me as a holy dwelling place for my God.

Grace and Effort

I’ve wondered lately about the recipe.  This life of following Jesus is a blend of grace and effort.  These days I’ve become so acutely aware of my need for grace.  It seems like common sense, but as one of my friends so keenly observed, “Common sense ain’t so common.”  I can not be holy by sheer willpower.  I can not be who God calls me to be simply because I want to and I try to.  This is not new news to me.  I’ve known this for a long time.  But I think sometimes it takes a great deal of failing and faltering  before settling into the conviction.

I mean, look, if I could do it on my own, then Christ would be unnecessary.  I need the Lord to work on me and in me—not just in a general sense, but everyday and in particular ways.  A God that can change the human heart is surely a God of miracles.  And yet, we are called to discipline ourselves, to walk in the light, to imitate the holy ones who’ve gone before us, to purify ourselves…
In short, we are called to make an effort towards our holiness.   Grace and effort.  What’s the recipe?

I often make smoothies in the morning for breakfast.  I never measure anything.  I just eyeball it.  Sometimes I add too much juice though, and my smoothie is kind of runny.  Sometimes I don’t add enough juice, and the smoothie is excessively chunky.  I think effort is like juice.  Too much of it and my life is like a runny smoothie, seemingly lacking the substance of faith, of reliance on God, of a grace-soaked character.  Too little of it, and there is a grinding and a struggling…Ironically, the smoothie ain’t so smooth. What’s the recipe?

I think there is a mysterious relationship between grace and effort when it comes to holiness in the life of a believer.  I know that I need God to work, and I also know that He will take me to task if I’m not putting in work.  Maybe there is no recipe.  We fall in love with Jesus.  We behold the beauty of him.  We are humbled by his calling.  We are grateful for adoption into God’s family.  The only reasonable response is a full-on pursuit of a life that glorifies God Almighty.  We run the race and discover that, all the while, it is His grace that paves the way.  Hallelujah.

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. (Hebrews 12:1-3, NIV)