Luke 2:1-21
God’s extravagance and humility are shocking. The King of Kings, the Son of God and Son of Man incarnate, the Savior of all humanity, was born into human flesh in an anonymous stable in a small town to the fanfare of the smell of sheep and donkeys. The most important birth in human history happened when and where almost no one was watching.
Joseph and Mary were at home in Nazareth during the final weeks of the pregnancy until the decree came from Rome that sent them on the sixty mile trek to Bethlehem where they were too late to find good lodging. They went from a warm four walls with family to a room intended for animals. And as Luke tells the story, it is almost as if the birth simply comes:
“And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her first born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (vs. 6-7)
Everything about the birth of Jesus Christ leads us to the emptying, or the humility, of God. Paul tells us that Jesus, though God, did not count equality with God something to hold on to, but he willingly emptied himself and took the form of a slave (Philippians 2:5-7). The author of Hebrews tells us that because God’s children all share in corruptible flesh, the Son of God took on that same flesh to destroy the one who frightens us with death, the devil (Hebrews 2:14-15).
The birth of Jesus Christ happens in a way completely disconnected from and completely unmoved by the whims and trappings of human power. We seek our stability and power in what the kingdoms of this world tell us is power, but Jesus shows us a better, a deeper and more stable way. Though the most powerful man on the planet, the emperor of Rome, sent Joseph and Mary packing, God had – and still has – his way.
But the extravagance of God? On a nearby hillside there were a handful of common, ordinary laborers doing their job in the middle of the night. And it is to these shepherds that God decides to give maybe the clearest and certainly the most magnificent revelation of the significance of that night. While they watched their flocks by night, an angel materialized and lit up the hillside.
“And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them.” (vs. 9)
It didn’t end there. After another minute or two, God sends an entire choir of the heavenly host to sing the glories of God and the reasons for the birth of their Messiah. Now that is the right way to announce the birth of a King!
But who was the audience? Bethlehem is just a couple of miles from Jerusalem. If God simply moved the angelic choir over a couple of hills, all the population of Jerusalem would have heard the news. Instead, God opens the sky and pours forth his extravagant glory upon a handful of simple shepherds.
We might be tempted to think that was a waste of angelic effort. God didn’t think so. God spoke and the shepherds responded by going to see Joseph, Mary and the baby, and by telling everyone the saw about the glory of God. God didn’t need kings and princes – He needed willing and humble shepherds. There is no effort wasted declaring the glories of our God.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Behold Your God of Might: Isaiah 40
Isaiah 40:10-11
In this chapter, the prophet responds to the really bad news he presented to the king in chapter 39 – the people of God will suffer at the hands of their enemies. In that context of distress, the beauty and grace of chapter 40 is arresting. We don’t expect the greatness of God to be extolled, but it is. And it is an incredible entrance into the character of God and our understanding of him in difficult times. In our passage, Isaiah extols the might of God:
“Behold your God! Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him;…” (40:9-10)
Growing up in Pentecostal circles meant I was privy to services and small groups where we prayed for miraculous things to happen, and from time to time, they did. I have prayed for people who were healed, we heard the stories of miraculous events, and every time it was both natural and right to praise God as a God of might and power. When we see God show up in these miraculous ways, it is easy for us to repeat after Isaiah, “Behold, the Lord God comes with might.”
But that is not the context of Isaiah 40. Instead, God’s people are experiencing a time of waiting in which they will suffer at the hands of their enemies and it will likely be a very long time before they see the kind of might and power that will free them of their political burdens.
Though it is easy and right to praise God as mighty and powerful when we experience amazing things, it is necessary to praise God as mighty and powerful when we don’t. God’s might and power never fade or change through the seasons of our life and our guard against distress and fear is to proclaim him as such in all circumstances. To complete the picture drawn by Isaiah, it is important to see what kind of God of might we are to behold.
“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” (vs. 11)
More often than in the great miracles, we experience a God of might as he tends to his people day by day. It is in the normal humdrum of the average life that the God who created the universe leads his people in might. Isaiah’s image is of God carrying a rod in one hand and clutching a lamb close to his chest in the other.
Behold your God of might.
God is greater than “the ordinary.” He is more present than our sense of his absence. His light shines through the fog of our routine. Our Shepherd clutches us close while we pay absolutely no attention to him.
We can begin to cultivate a sense of this kind of God by simply repeating with the prophet that our God is a God of might who shepherds us through every moment of existence. We find what Thomas Kelly called a “subterranean sanctuary of the soul” where his presence is always strong and where his light is always shining.
In this chapter, the prophet responds to the really bad news he presented to the king in chapter 39 – the people of God will suffer at the hands of their enemies. In that context of distress, the beauty and grace of chapter 40 is arresting. We don’t expect the greatness of God to be extolled, but it is. And it is an incredible entrance into the character of God and our understanding of him in difficult times. In our passage, Isaiah extols the might of God:
“Behold your God! Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him;…” (40:9-10)
Growing up in Pentecostal circles meant I was privy to services and small groups where we prayed for miraculous things to happen, and from time to time, they did. I have prayed for people who were healed, we heard the stories of miraculous events, and every time it was both natural and right to praise God as a God of might and power. When we see God show up in these miraculous ways, it is easy for us to repeat after Isaiah, “Behold, the Lord God comes with might.”
But that is not the context of Isaiah 40. Instead, God’s people are experiencing a time of waiting in which they will suffer at the hands of their enemies and it will likely be a very long time before they see the kind of might and power that will free them of their political burdens.
Though it is easy and right to praise God as mighty and powerful when we experience amazing things, it is necessary to praise God as mighty and powerful when we don’t. God’s might and power never fade or change through the seasons of our life and our guard against distress and fear is to proclaim him as such in all circumstances. To complete the picture drawn by Isaiah, it is important to see what kind of God of might we are to behold.
“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” (vs. 11)
More often than in the great miracles, we experience a God of might as he tends to his people day by day. It is in the normal humdrum of the average life that the God who created the universe leads his people in might. Isaiah’s image is of God carrying a rod in one hand and clutching a lamb close to his chest in the other.
Behold your God of might.
God is greater than “the ordinary.” He is more present than our sense of his absence. His light shines through the fog of our routine. Our Shepherd clutches us close while we pay absolutely no attention to him.
We can begin to cultivate a sense of this kind of God by simply repeating with the prophet that our God is a God of might who shepherds us through every moment of existence. We find what Thomas Kelly called a “subterranean sanctuary of the soul” where his presence is always strong and where his light is always shining.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Whale-Sized Grace
Jonah 1:17
When we think about the story of Jonah, we usually think of one thing – a big fish. In all of our children’s Bibles, for example, the story is told through the lens of the fish. And even though Jonah’s story is short, in actuality, the fish only has three verses dedicated to it. There is much more to Jonah’s struggle with God than a whale’s gullet, but his three days and nights in that submarine gastronomic miracle focused the prophet. When we pay attention to the role of the fish in Jonah’s life, we learn quickly what it really is – the grace of God.
“And the LORD appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” (1:17)
God did this to Jonah. It wasn’t a strange or lucky coincidence; it was a deliberate action on God’s behalf. God “appointed” -- or called, or arranged, or caused -- this fish to show up at this place at this time to have his prophet for breakfast. Jonah even sees this pitch-black stomach for what it is, “For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me” (vs. 3). It was God’s doing, and Jonah is OK with that.
God put Jonah in the fish’s belly to get him back on the right track – to restore a right relationship between himself and his rebellious child. The fish was God’s means of getting hold of his prophet’s heart and mind again, and because it is Jonah’s way back to God, it is God’s grace. It is dark and dank and putrid, but it is God’s grace. It is odd and unique (Jonah must have uttered that common prayer, “Why me?” while sliding down the throat), but it is God’s grace. It is literally the darkest, deepest, and loneliest pit a human could be in, but it is God’s grace. It strips Jonah (literally and figuratively) of every earthly thing that distracts him from his God, but it is God’s grace.
Any act of God that is intended to bring me back to him is an act of grace and mercy. Even this is God’s love. When we think about receiving the goodness and grace of God, we normally think about, and certainly want, the nice stuff. We long for and seek for God’s niceness to us. And to be sure, there are seasons of life full of blessedness in our lives with God and with others. But there are other seasons when God does different kinds of things with his people.
When we look for the grace of God, are we ready for it to swallow us?
When it does, we can now turn to a formerly rebellious prophet who prays with the faithful who have travelled this path before him. We now learn from Jonah a positive lesson we have yet to learn – what it means to live with God in the darkest places in our lives.
“When my life was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple....But I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the LORD!” (vs. 7, 9)
When the darkness closes in and when our life faints away, we can now look to and pray with Jonah. “Lord, I thank you! I will sacrifice everything for you, and give you everything I am and everything I have. Salvation belongs to my Lord!”
When we think about the story of Jonah, we usually think of one thing – a big fish. In all of our children’s Bibles, for example, the story is told through the lens of the fish. And even though Jonah’s story is short, in actuality, the fish only has three verses dedicated to it. There is much more to Jonah’s struggle with God than a whale’s gullet, but his three days and nights in that submarine gastronomic miracle focused the prophet. When we pay attention to the role of the fish in Jonah’s life, we learn quickly what it really is – the grace of God.
“And the LORD appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” (1:17)
God did this to Jonah. It wasn’t a strange or lucky coincidence; it was a deliberate action on God’s behalf. God “appointed” -- or called, or arranged, or caused -- this fish to show up at this place at this time to have his prophet for breakfast. Jonah even sees this pitch-black stomach for what it is, “For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me” (vs. 3). It was God’s doing, and Jonah is OK with that.
God put Jonah in the fish’s belly to get him back on the right track – to restore a right relationship between himself and his rebellious child. The fish was God’s means of getting hold of his prophet’s heart and mind again, and because it is Jonah’s way back to God, it is God’s grace. It is dark and dank and putrid, but it is God’s grace. It is odd and unique (Jonah must have uttered that common prayer, “Why me?” while sliding down the throat), but it is God’s grace. It is literally the darkest, deepest, and loneliest pit a human could be in, but it is God’s grace. It strips Jonah (literally and figuratively) of every earthly thing that distracts him from his God, but it is God’s grace.
Any act of God that is intended to bring me back to him is an act of grace and mercy. Even this is God’s love. When we think about receiving the goodness and grace of God, we normally think about, and certainly want, the nice stuff. We long for and seek for God’s niceness to us. And to be sure, there are seasons of life full of blessedness in our lives with God and with others. But there are other seasons when God does different kinds of things with his people.
When we look for the grace of God, are we ready for it to swallow us?
When it does, we can now turn to a formerly rebellious prophet who prays with the faithful who have travelled this path before him. We now learn from Jonah a positive lesson we have yet to learn – what it means to live with God in the darkest places in our lives.
“When my life was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple....But I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the LORD!” (vs. 7, 9)
When the darkness closes in and when our life faints away, we can now look to and pray with Jonah. “Lord, I thank you! I will sacrifice everything for you, and give you everything I am and everything I have. Salvation belongs to my Lord!”
Monday, September 21, 2009
Prayer, Praise and the Uniquely Christian Life
James 5:13
The Christian life is a unique life. Following Jesus changes everything for us – at least it should change everything. This doesn’t mean we leave our jobs and families and live in communes in the forest. It means that the lives we lead are forever and irrevocably changed. As James closes his epistle, he wants to make sure his readers are left with a set of important thoughts ringing in their ears. The life he described up to this point transforms the way we view pain and suffering, the way we value and treat others, and the way we use our tongues, to mention just a few things. Now it is time for the final set of exclamation points on the descriptions of this uniquely Christian life.
Is anyone among you suffering? We know James’ readers are suffering; we know our neighbors are; we know the reality of suffering in our own lives. The question is not hypothetical, and James’ answer should unsettle us a bit. It is exactly when things go out of our control that our natural impulse is to DO something and not just sit around and take it. We want to take events and people into our own hands and rework the situation so we and our loved ones can avoid the pain we are in. James, however, says the most important thing we can do in the most complicated and confusing seasons of life is pray. Prayer is not the Christian’s back-up plan; it is our constant source of strength.
We pray to the Creator of the Universe – to the one who spun the universe into existence and holds the expanse of time and space in the palm of his hand. I pray to the Only Wise God. We pray to the God who walked among us in human flesh. He was born, lived and died truly human, and he rose again conquering death and sin. I pray to the Incarnate God. And I pray by the prompting and power of the very Spirit of God within me. I pray by God’s Empowering Presence. This is the uniquely Christian prayer.
Is anyone among you cheerful? We sometimes find ourselves in this season of life – we are blessed, we are happy, we are at peace in our hearts and minds. James tells us the right reaction is to sing songs of praise. Praise is an open door to the presence of God. When God’s people assembled at the Temple in the Old Testament, they we lead in praise and worship to the God who lead them out of Egypt and gave them a homeland. And when the presence of the Lord fell, they praised some more. At the end of all things when we catch a glimpse of the throne room of God, we encounter angelic beings and the redeemed singing songs of praise to God for his majesty, power, justice, forgiveness and mercy. We will, for all of eternity, be caught up in a chorus of praise to our God.
But we can add to James the words of Paul. Right now we may not feel the power, steadfast love and grace of God. We may be walking a different path. To us, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1:3, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” Praise be to God for the comfort and compassion he gives in the midst of my suffering and pain. Praise be to this God in all seasons of life. Praise is not a seasonal activity; it is my constant response to this God who redeemed me.
If praise is not a part of my life, I don’t know who my God is.
Prayer and praise are consistent and universal activities in the Christian life. They are our constant companions in this uniquely Christian life.
The Christian life is a unique life. Following Jesus changes everything for us – at least it should change everything. This doesn’t mean we leave our jobs and families and live in communes in the forest. It means that the lives we lead are forever and irrevocably changed. As James closes his epistle, he wants to make sure his readers are left with a set of important thoughts ringing in their ears. The life he described up to this point transforms the way we view pain and suffering, the way we value and treat others, and the way we use our tongues, to mention just a few things. Now it is time for the final set of exclamation points on the descriptions of this uniquely Christian life.
Is anyone among you suffering? We know James’ readers are suffering; we know our neighbors are; we know the reality of suffering in our own lives. The question is not hypothetical, and James’ answer should unsettle us a bit. It is exactly when things go out of our control that our natural impulse is to DO something and not just sit around and take it. We want to take events and people into our own hands and rework the situation so we and our loved ones can avoid the pain we are in. James, however, says the most important thing we can do in the most complicated and confusing seasons of life is pray. Prayer is not the Christian’s back-up plan; it is our constant source of strength.
We pray to the Creator of the Universe – to the one who spun the universe into existence and holds the expanse of time and space in the palm of his hand. I pray to the Only Wise God. We pray to the God who walked among us in human flesh. He was born, lived and died truly human, and he rose again conquering death and sin. I pray to the Incarnate God. And I pray by the prompting and power of the very Spirit of God within me. I pray by God’s Empowering Presence. This is the uniquely Christian prayer.
Is anyone among you cheerful? We sometimes find ourselves in this season of life – we are blessed, we are happy, we are at peace in our hearts and minds. James tells us the right reaction is to sing songs of praise. Praise is an open door to the presence of God. When God’s people assembled at the Temple in the Old Testament, they we lead in praise and worship to the God who lead them out of Egypt and gave them a homeland. And when the presence of the Lord fell, they praised some more. At the end of all things when we catch a glimpse of the throne room of God, we encounter angelic beings and the redeemed singing songs of praise to God for his majesty, power, justice, forgiveness and mercy. We will, for all of eternity, be caught up in a chorus of praise to our God.
But we can add to James the words of Paul. Right now we may not feel the power, steadfast love and grace of God. We may be walking a different path. To us, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1:3, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” Praise be to God for the comfort and compassion he gives in the midst of my suffering and pain. Praise be to this God in all seasons of life. Praise is not a seasonal activity; it is my constant response to this God who redeemed me.
If praise is not a part of my life, I don’t know who my God is.
Prayer and praise are consistent and universal activities in the Christian life. They are our constant companions in this uniquely Christian life.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Wrong Expectations
Malachi 3:13-4:6
In the final conversation between Malachi and Judah, God has a concern or two about Judah’s worship and their conception of him, and Judah has a final shot across the bow of God’s character and behavior. Judah has taken stock of the world around them, tried to relate that to God, and the two just are not jiving. Though some of Judah’s complaints have been ours from time to time, we need to be careful as we learn from God’s answer.
“Your words have been hard against me.” (vs 13)
There is nothing very nuanced about this claim – Judah has said some things about God that are hard to take, or as another translation puts it, they are “terrible” things to say. God’s answer to their “how” is devastating.
“You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What is the profit of our keeping his charge or of walking as in mourning before the LORD of hosts? And now we call the arrogant blessed. Evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and they escape’.” (vs 14-15)
To say that it is vain to serve God would, of course, be a very hard thing to say to God. What they mean by “vain” is not, “arrogant,” but something that is futile, vapid, empty, or meaningless. We can hear their words as, “it is meaningless to serve God!” So what brings a person to this fairly radical conclusion?
As it turns out, Judah concluded their relationship with God was meaningless because their idea of a meaningful relationship was all wrong. In other words, they approached their relationship with God with the wrong set of expectations, and when they were (naturally) not met, they concluded the relationship was a joke. We easily do the same thing, and not just with God. If we enter a relationship with the wrong expectations, we become disillusioned when they are not met. And when this happens, who is to blame? So what were Judah’s false expectations about a relationship with God?
First of all, they expected “profit.” Again, this word is pretty straightforward – it means the gain from labor. They somehow expected that when they did their part in serving God and being good little Judeans, God would be compelled to do his part and reward them with financial and material blessings. To be blunt, this is a selfish way of approaching our faith and it treats God as if we are lords of the universe, and not Him. He is not at our beck and call.
Secondly, they expected that external acts of worship were true religion. They complained that “keeping his charge” and “mourning” were not producing the expected results. They were going through the motions expecting them to be a kind of talisman, a kind of magical incantation that would fulfill their spiritual requirements. But even Christ is clear on this problem: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me” (Matthew 15:8). True and acceptable worship is a natural and inevitable expression of what is in our hearts, not the other way around.
And third, they expected God would kill all the bad guys. They were angry that “evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and escape.” It is natural for us, in the certian seasons of our lives, to express this very thing to God. We are sometimes angry that evil people seem to be getting away with it. God’s answer, however, reminds us of a couple of very important realities. First of all, God sees all things and there really are moral distinctions with God (vs. 18). And as a result, they day is coming when the final line will be drawn in the sand and evildoers will be done away with (4:1-2).
But ultimately, God’s answer to these frustrations and accusations from Judah is his plan of reconciliation through his son, Jesus Christ. Malachi’s final prophecy about Elijah and his ministry of reconciliation is picked up in the Gospels as applying to John the Baptist and Jesus Christ.
God’s plan for broken and sinful humanity right now is to send his Son to live God’s life among us, to willingly die on a cross to atone for our sins, and to rise from the grave to give us hope for life eternal. And may I say, thank God!
In the final conversation between Malachi and Judah, God has a concern or two about Judah’s worship and their conception of him, and Judah has a final shot across the bow of God’s character and behavior. Judah has taken stock of the world around them, tried to relate that to God, and the two just are not jiving. Though some of Judah’s complaints have been ours from time to time, we need to be careful as we learn from God’s answer.
“Your words have been hard against me.” (vs 13)
There is nothing very nuanced about this claim – Judah has said some things about God that are hard to take, or as another translation puts it, they are “terrible” things to say. God’s answer to their “how” is devastating.
“You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What is the profit of our keeping his charge or of walking as in mourning before the LORD of hosts? And now we call the arrogant blessed. Evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and they escape’.” (vs 14-15)
To say that it is vain to serve God would, of course, be a very hard thing to say to God. What they mean by “vain” is not, “arrogant,” but something that is futile, vapid, empty, or meaningless. We can hear their words as, “it is meaningless to serve God!” So what brings a person to this fairly radical conclusion?
As it turns out, Judah concluded their relationship with God was meaningless because their idea of a meaningful relationship was all wrong. In other words, they approached their relationship with God with the wrong set of expectations, and when they were (naturally) not met, they concluded the relationship was a joke. We easily do the same thing, and not just with God. If we enter a relationship with the wrong expectations, we become disillusioned when they are not met. And when this happens, who is to blame? So what were Judah’s false expectations about a relationship with God?
First of all, they expected “profit.” Again, this word is pretty straightforward – it means the gain from labor. They somehow expected that when they did their part in serving God and being good little Judeans, God would be compelled to do his part and reward them with financial and material blessings. To be blunt, this is a selfish way of approaching our faith and it treats God as if we are lords of the universe, and not Him. He is not at our beck and call.
Secondly, they expected that external acts of worship were true religion. They complained that “keeping his charge” and “mourning” were not producing the expected results. They were going through the motions expecting them to be a kind of talisman, a kind of magical incantation that would fulfill their spiritual requirements. But even Christ is clear on this problem: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me” (Matthew 15:8). True and acceptable worship is a natural and inevitable expression of what is in our hearts, not the other way around.
And third, they expected God would kill all the bad guys. They were angry that “evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and escape.” It is natural for us, in the certian seasons of our lives, to express this very thing to God. We are sometimes angry that evil people seem to be getting away with it. God’s answer, however, reminds us of a couple of very important realities. First of all, God sees all things and there really are moral distinctions with God (vs. 18). And as a result, they day is coming when the final line will be drawn in the sand and evildoers will be done away with (4:1-2).
But ultimately, God’s answer to these frustrations and accusations from Judah is his plan of reconciliation through his son, Jesus Christ. Malachi’s final prophecy about Elijah and his ministry of reconciliation is picked up in the Gospels as applying to John the Baptist and Jesus Christ.
God’s plan for broken and sinful humanity right now is to send his Son to live God’s life among us, to willingly die on a cross to atone for our sins, and to rise from the grave to give us hope for life eternal. And may I say, thank God!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Worship and the Glory of God
Malachi 1:1-5
One of the pitfalls of daily life as a follower of Jesus Christ is that we can grow cold to the wonders of God, half-hearted in our devotion to Him, and begin living life at arm’s length from the presence of our Creator and Savior. Malachi writes his book to a nation of nominal and lukewarm worshipers. Other prophets write to an Israel or Judah who are worshiping foreign gods and even sacrificing their children on the idols of pagan deities. Clearly there is something to be corrected there. But Malachi’s audience spends their time in the pews, singing the songs of worship, bringing their sacrifices, and repeating all the right words in service. But the words of Christ are true of them, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matt 15:8).
Into a culture where Temple worship is being reinstated, but the hearts of the people are still very far from God, Malachi writes to correct and provoke. Written in a series of conversations, Malachi is a tremendous insight into what God finds important about worship, how his people were blowing it, and what can be done to set it right. And from the very beginning, God puts our focus in the right place.
“I have loved you.” (vs. 2)
What Malachi actually says is more like, “I have loved you in the past, I continue to love you, and I will always love you.” God’s everlasting and faithful love is the very starting point in our understanding of what it means to engage in worship that is acceptable to God. In fact, God’s love for his people is the very cornerstone of his covenant with them. When Jeremiah speaks of the same reality he says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (Jer. 31:3). Notice who does all the work that makes this unconditional love of the Father possible – the Father!
God is his own reason for, his own grounding for, and his own source of power for his love for you. Only then can it be true that his love is everlasting, and that it continues in faithfulness through the years. If God’s love for you were based on you and your faithfulness, how long would that last?
But we don’t always feel loved, just as Malachi’s people respond with, “How have you loved us?” (vs. 2) God’s people were ripped out of their land a generation ago, made to serve as slaves in an evil empire, and now have the backbreaking responsibility of rebuilding their city, Temple, and culture. They don’t feel loved by God. We all feel this way at some point in our lives, and sometimes we express it in our frustration and even desperation. Here, God answers.
The conversation about Jacob and Esau is about God’s love for his people – it is about God establishing a unique relationship with those who belong to him, and that he will forever honor that covenant and love. God’s answer to the question, how has he loved us? I made your relationship with me possible, and I will honor it no matter what you do.
As a result of this life-giving reality dawning on us (“your own eyes shall see this”), we respond in worship of God’s glory. “Great is the Lord beyond the borders of Israel!” (vs. 5) In his righteousness and holiness, God punishes evil – Great is the Lord! In his grace and forgiveness, God creates relationship – Great is the Lord!
God-honoring and life-transforming worship begins with the recognition of the glory of God, and here we see his glory as a result of his love toward us. He loves even us – those who are not perfect, those who rebel against him, and those who in this life will never love him with a perfect and steadfast love. But to us God says, “I have loved you!”
One of the pitfalls of daily life as a follower of Jesus Christ is that we can grow cold to the wonders of God, half-hearted in our devotion to Him, and begin living life at arm’s length from the presence of our Creator and Savior. Malachi writes his book to a nation of nominal and lukewarm worshipers. Other prophets write to an Israel or Judah who are worshiping foreign gods and even sacrificing their children on the idols of pagan deities. Clearly there is something to be corrected there. But Malachi’s audience spends their time in the pews, singing the songs of worship, bringing their sacrifices, and repeating all the right words in service. But the words of Christ are true of them, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matt 15:8).
Into a culture where Temple worship is being reinstated, but the hearts of the people are still very far from God, Malachi writes to correct and provoke. Written in a series of conversations, Malachi is a tremendous insight into what God finds important about worship, how his people were blowing it, and what can be done to set it right. And from the very beginning, God puts our focus in the right place.
“I have loved you.” (vs. 2)
What Malachi actually says is more like, “I have loved you in the past, I continue to love you, and I will always love you.” God’s everlasting and faithful love is the very starting point in our understanding of what it means to engage in worship that is acceptable to God. In fact, God’s love for his people is the very cornerstone of his covenant with them. When Jeremiah speaks of the same reality he says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (Jer. 31:3). Notice who does all the work that makes this unconditional love of the Father possible – the Father!
God is his own reason for, his own grounding for, and his own source of power for his love for you. Only then can it be true that his love is everlasting, and that it continues in faithfulness through the years. If God’s love for you were based on you and your faithfulness, how long would that last?
But we don’t always feel loved, just as Malachi’s people respond with, “How have you loved us?” (vs. 2) God’s people were ripped out of their land a generation ago, made to serve as slaves in an evil empire, and now have the backbreaking responsibility of rebuilding their city, Temple, and culture. They don’t feel loved by God. We all feel this way at some point in our lives, and sometimes we express it in our frustration and even desperation. Here, God answers.
The conversation about Jacob and Esau is about God’s love for his people – it is about God establishing a unique relationship with those who belong to him, and that he will forever honor that covenant and love. God’s answer to the question, how has he loved us? I made your relationship with me possible, and I will honor it no matter what you do.
As a result of this life-giving reality dawning on us (“your own eyes shall see this”), we respond in worship of God’s glory. “Great is the Lord beyond the borders of Israel!” (vs. 5) In his righteousness and holiness, God punishes evil – Great is the Lord! In his grace and forgiveness, God creates relationship – Great is the Lord!
God-honoring and life-transforming worship begins with the recognition of the glory of God, and here we see his glory as a result of his love toward us. He loves even us – those who are not perfect, those who rebel against him, and those who in this life will never love him with a perfect and steadfast love. But to us God says, “I have loved you!”
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Cross Changes Everything
John 12:20-36
The cross of Jesus Christ changes everything. It is the most important moment in the course of human history, and when seen from its proper view, it is the most important moment in the course of all of creation. Now, that is a radical claim. But it is not mine – it belongs to Jesus himself.
On the week when he entered Jerusalem for the final time, Jesus makes the effort to explain to his disciples and to us what the cross does and how important it really is. After the adulation of the Triumphal Entry and the Greek believers who seek him out, Jesus instructs the disciples about the importance and power of what will happen on Friday.
First, Jesus says, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” (vs. 23). This is an odd way of talking about the most torturous form of death devised by humans. The disciples will be horrified and terrified at what will happen, and Jesus will endure agonizing pain before he actually dies. And yet, Jesus calls it glory! To be glorified means for the honor and praise-worthiness of a thing to be made manifest. The cross reveals Christ’s eternal worth, power, righteousness, and forgiveness. What the world takes to be shame and the ultimate defeat, in fact, reveals the glory of God.
The Cross is Glory.
Then Jesus goes on to talk about the need for the disciples to serve him and to “hate” their lives here in this world. The call of the Christian life is not one where we are asked to follow most of what Christ commands with bits and pieces of who we are. The cross of Christ is a claim on my entire life – all I am and all I have. I am not asked to literally hate myself or life in this world. On the contrary, I am asked to love Christ and place him in his proper place as God, and then everything else will find its rightful and fruitful place beneath him.
The Cross is Discipleship.
Jesus then tells the gathered crowd that he is troubled in spirit and that he could pray for his release from this moment. But instead of praying, “Father, save me from this hour,” Christ prays, “Father, glorify your name” (vs. 27-28). The cross is why he came to live among us. It is his reason for being here and going through what he is about to endure. And, in a profound twist on our usual take on difficulties and trials, it prompts Christ to pray for God’s glory.
The Cross is God’s Will.
“Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out” (vs. 31). Satan and his power over you will not be defeated 2000 years from now. He will not be defeated at the end of the millennial reign. Satan and his forces will not be defeated the day you die and find yourself in heaven. Satan was defeated 2000 years ago on the cross of Christ. We continue to fall to temptation, listen to the wrong voices, and make the wrong choices. But Satan’s power over Christ’s children was taken care of on the cross.
The Cross is Triumph.
And finally, in response to some confusion from the crowd, Jesus tells them that the light of the world is now among them. “While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light” (vs. 36). Now is the time to believe, because there is only a limited amount of time for any one of us. The cross brings God’s life to bear in the lives of broken, repentant people.
The Cross is Life.
The cross of Jesus Christ changes everything. It is the most important moment in the course of human history, and when seen from its proper view, it is the most important moment in the course of all of creation. Now, that is a radical claim. But it is not mine – it belongs to Jesus himself.
On the week when he entered Jerusalem for the final time, Jesus makes the effort to explain to his disciples and to us what the cross does and how important it really is. After the adulation of the Triumphal Entry and the Greek believers who seek him out, Jesus instructs the disciples about the importance and power of what will happen on Friday.
First, Jesus says, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” (vs. 23). This is an odd way of talking about the most torturous form of death devised by humans. The disciples will be horrified and terrified at what will happen, and Jesus will endure agonizing pain before he actually dies. And yet, Jesus calls it glory! To be glorified means for the honor and praise-worthiness of a thing to be made manifest. The cross reveals Christ’s eternal worth, power, righteousness, and forgiveness. What the world takes to be shame and the ultimate defeat, in fact, reveals the glory of God.
The Cross is Glory.
Then Jesus goes on to talk about the need for the disciples to serve him and to “hate” their lives here in this world. The call of the Christian life is not one where we are asked to follow most of what Christ commands with bits and pieces of who we are. The cross of Christ is a claim on my entire life – all I am and all I have. I am not asked to literally hate myself or life in this world. On the contrary, I am asked to love Christ and place him in his proper place as God, and then everything else will find its rightful and fruitful place beneath him.
The Cross is Discipleship.
Jesus then tells the gathered crowd that he is troubled in spirit and that he could pray for his release from this moment. But instead of praying, “Father, save me from this hour,” Christ prays, “Father, glorify your name” (vs. 27-28). The cross is why he came to live among us. It is his reason for being here and going through what he is about to endure. And, in a profound twist on our usual take on difficulties and trials, it prompts Christ to pray for God’s glory.
The Cross is God’s Will.
“Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out” (vs. 31). Satan and his power over you will not be defeated 2000 years from now. He will not be defeated at the end of the millennial reign. Satan and his forces will not be defeated the day you die and find yourself in heaven. Satan was defeated 2000 years ago on the cross of Christ. We continue to fall to temptation, listen to the wrong voices, and make the wrong choices. But Satan’s power over Christ’s children was taken care of on the cross.
The Cross is Triumph.
And finally, in response to some confusion from the crowd, Jesus tells them that the light of the world is now among them. “While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light” (vs. 36). Now is the time to believe, because there is only a limited amount of time for any one of us. The cross brings God’s life to bear in the lives of broken, repentant people.
The Cross is Life.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Restore! Gal 6:1-5
Galatians 6:1-5
It has been said that people in our world love Jesus but can’t stand the church. Several books have been dedicated to this recently, including such titles as, “I Love Jesus: I Hate the Church,” and “Damage Control: How to Stop Making Jesus Look Bad.” When people read about or hear about Jesus, they recognize something there that they find attractive and even beautiful. True, the deeper their understanding of Jesus goes, the more they should understand their need for repentance, but there is something beautiful about Jesus nonetheless. On the other hand, their interactions with Christians have turned them off to Church and commitment to Christ. They like what they see in Jesus, but they know too many Christians.
In all reality, we will never be perfect. The church is not a collection of jewels of perfection, it is a collection of people healing and growing in Christ. But we are too often guilty of eating our young and killing our wounded. Paul goes to great lengths at the end of Galatians to describe a different kind of life that is available to the believer. God’s kind of life at work in his people is more healing than it is wounding, it puts together more than it tears apart, it restores more than it destroys.
Paul begins this application of God’s life by describing someone in one of the most vulnerable positions possible.
“Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.” (vs. 1)
What was once private has become public. What someone has tried hard to conceal has become known. In many ways, this person is now at the mercy of those who know their secret. Thus, Paul calls on the most mature among us. He wants those who are literally “spirit-led” to oversee the management of this brother or sister. And what he says next should come as a kind of thunder clap.
Our natural inclination when someone falls is to mock or shun. Whether to their face of behind it, we are accustomed to looking down on someone, or proclaiming that we are too smart for their too-obvious and atrocious error. We are more likely to gossip about them and build fictional scenarios of their past and evil path that led them to their exposure. We are even more likely to take our new-found position of moral power to control and manipulate. So the thunderous command from Paul is, Restore!
And we do so gently, even meekly. We are to keep diligent regarding our own potential failures and our own brokenness. If we think more of ourselves – if we consider ourselves above the fray or morally superior – we deceive ourselves. If we are not clear about our own frailty, we are lying to ourselves. If, however, I have an honest assessment of how much I need God’s constant forgiveness and grace, we will react in a Christ-like way when a brother or sister is caught. Instead of derision we will react in humility before God and grace toward the fallen.
What do you see when you see a broken soul—any broken soul? What do you see when you see a brother or sister in Christ caught in sin? What do you see when you watch the world tumble along caught in its own sin? Do you see junk? Do you see a wasteland of useless humanity? Do you see a member of your congregation that needs to go?
To be sure, restoration requires that the restored recognize their sin and need for forgiveness. But my job is to give the grace God gave me. My job is to give the kind of forgiveness that requires God’s life at work within me. If you have the opportunity to reach out to a broken and fallen human, restore!
It has been said that people in our world love Jesus but can’t stand the church. Several books have been dedicated to this recently, including such titles as, “I Love Jesus: I Hate the Church,” and “Damage Control: How to Stop Making Jesus Look Bad.” When people read about or hear about Jesus, they recognize something there that they find attractive and even beautiful. True, the deeper their understanding of Jesus goes, the more they should understand their need for repentance, but there is something beautiful about Jesus nonetheless. On the other hand, their interactions with Christians have turned them off to Church and commitment to Christ. They like what they see in Jesus, but they know too many Christians.
In all reality, we will never be perfect. The church is not a collection of jewels of perfection, it is a collection of people healing and growing in Christ. But we are too often guilty of eating our young and killing our wounded. Paul goes to great lengths at the end of Galatians to describe a different kind of life that is available to the believer. God’s kind of life at work in his people is more healing than it is wounding, it puts together more than it tears apart, it restores more than it destroys.
Paul begins this application of God’s life by describing someone in one of the most vulnerable positions possible.
“Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.” (vs. 1)
What was once private has become public. What someone has tried hard to conceal has become known. In many ways, this person is now at the mercy of those who know their secret. Thus, Paul calls on the most mature among us. He wants those who are literally “spirit-led” to oversee the management of this brother or sister. And what he says next should come as a kind of thunder clap.
Our natural inclination when someone falls is to mock or shun. Whether to their face of behind it, we are accustomed to looking down on someone, or proclaiming that we are too smart for their too-obvious and atrocious error. We are more likely to gossip about them and build fictional scenarios of their past and evil path that led them to their exposure. We are even more likely to take our new-found position of moral power to control and manipulate. So the thunderous command from Paul is, Restore!
And we do so gently, even meekly. We are to keep diligent regarding our own potential failures and our own brokenness. If we think more of ourselves – if we consider ourselves above the fray or morally superior – we deceive ourselves. If we are not clear about our own frailty, we are lying to ourselves. If, however, I have an honest assessment of how much I need God’s constant forgiveness and grace, we will react in a Christ-like way when a brother or sister is caught. Instead of derision we will react in humility before God and grace toward the fallen.
What do you see when you see a broken soul—any broken soul? What do you see when you see a brother or sister in Christ caught in sin? What do you see when you watch the world tumble along caught in its own sin? Do you see junk? Do you see a wasteland of useless humanity? Do you see a member of your congregation that needs to go?
To be sure, restoration requires that the restored recognize their sin and need for forgiveness. But my job is to give the grace God gave me. My job is to give the kind of forgiveness that requires God’s life at work within me. If you have the opportunity to reach out to a broken and fallen human, restore!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Sons and Daughters of God
Galatians 4:1-7
When the Galatian believers turned away from the gospel of Christ and began following the false teaching of legalism, they had no idea what they were giving up. Paul strains to make the riches available only in Christ as obvious to them as he possibly can in order to convince them to return to the free grace and life of Christ. In this passage, Paul tells a common story to make his point.
Even though an infant heir is born to his father’s estate, and even though he will one day receive the riches available to him, he is completely powerless to lay hold of that inheritance until the day he comes of age and his father grants him his right. And until that day, he has no different access to the estate than the slaves of the household, even the most trusted of the slaves.
In the same way, Paul says, while we were infants we were enslaved to the basic principles of this world. Before Christ came and changed things for the Galatians, not only were they no better than the infant in the estate, they were, in fact, enslaved by the things of this world. Being a slave to anything is language we don’t like to use, but we have to come to terms with it in order to understand the true state of things between the human without Christ and the moral and spiritual structure of this world.
The things of this world enslave us. Enslavement means coercion. It means your passions and brokenness make you do things you “don’t want to do.” It means they build and shape your desires and as such they cause you to do things. Enslavement means less of me and more of my captor. As my flesh and sinful desires do their work, they become my thoughts, emotions, actions and words. My captor runs me and I fade into the shadows. Enslavement means captivity without hope of freedom. The principles of this world without Christ have no intention of holding onto me for a season and then moving on. This is a lifetime project they are on, and unless something happens I will die enslaved to them.
But there is another option to being an infant or a slave in the household: you can be a son. In one of the more powerful twists in the book, Paul writes:
“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.” (4:4-8)
An infant doesn’t have the power in themselves to become the heir, so their Father needs to do the work. And that is exactly what God did. In his eternal wisdom, God sent his Son, the second member of the Trinity, into this world to live this life in this flesh, to die this death, and to conquer it all for God’s children. Then he sent the Spirit of his Son, the third member of the Trinity, to reside within us to secure our relationship and inheritance. As a child of God, we call our Creator, Abba.
The work of Christ in this life was to redeem us and give us the adoption as sons. Christ bought back our lives; he paid the price necessary to put us back into right relationship with God. Then, and only then, do we become God’s sons and daughters.
God walked through the orphanage, picked you, paid the price, signed the papers, and took you home. You are a child of God, and the riches of his life and presence are available to you now and for all of eternity.
When the Galatian believers turned away from the gospel of Christ and began following the false teaching of legalism, they had no idea what they were giving up. Paul strains to make the riches available only in Christ as obvious to them as he possibly can in order to convince them to return to the free grace and life of Christ. In this passage, Paul tells a common story to make his point.
Even though an infant heir is born to his father’s estate, and even though he will one day receive the riches available to him, he is completely powerless to lay hold of that inheritance until the day he comes of age and his father grants him his right. And until that day, he has no different access to the estate than the slaves of the household, even the most trusted of the slaves.
In the same way, Paul says, while we were infants we were enslaved to the basic principles of this world. Before Christ came and changed things for the Galatians, not only were they no better than the infant in the estate, they were, in fact, enslaved by the things of this world. Being a slave to anything is language we don’t like to use, but we have to come to terms with it in order to understand the true state of things between the human without Christ and the moral and spiritual structure of this world.
The things of this world enslave us. Enslavement means coercion. It means your passions and brokenness make you do things you “don’t want to do.” It means they build and shape your desires and as such they cause you to do things. Enslavement means less of me and more of my captor. As my flesh and sinful desires do their work, they become my thoughts, emotions, actions and words. My captor runs me and I fade into the shadows. Enslavement means captivity without hope of freedom. The principles of this world without Christ have no intention of holding onto me for a season and then moving on. This is a lifetime project they are on, and unless something happens I will die enslaved to them.
But there is another option to being an infant or a slave in the household: you can be a son. In one of the more powerful twists in the book, Paul writes:
“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.” (4:4-8)
An infant doesn’t have the power in themselves to become the heir, so their Father needs to do the work. And that is exactly what God did. In his eternal wisdom, God sent his Son, the second member of the Trinity, into this world to live this life in this flesh, to die this death, and to conquer it all for God’s children. Then he sent the Spirit of his Son, the third member of the Trinity, to reside within us to secure our relationship and inheritance. As a child of God, we call our Creator, Abba.
The work of Christ in this life was to redeem us and give us the adoption as sons. Christ bought back our lives; he paid the price necessary to put us back into right relationship with God. Then, and only then, do we become God’s sons and daughters.
God walked through the orphanage, picked you, paid the price, signed the papers, and took you home. You are a child of God, and the riches of his life and presence are available to you now and for all of eternity.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The Name
Revelation 3:12
Companies and brand names compete for your loyalty by creating a culture of brand recognition and consumer atmosphere. You learn through billboards and commercials that certain kinds of people wear certain brands of clothing and eat at certain restaurants. And then, companies and their marketing firms hope, you will decide to look like and eat like those people in the attempt to have a piece of the lives they have. Plenty of people—especially young people—become loyal consumers of a certain brand in order to have the same cache the people they see in the commercials have.
To put someone’s or something’s name on you is a gesture of loyalty. There is even a level of character imitation when we take a name and put it on. Politicians pass out buttons and bumper stickers hoping you will be recognized as their supporters, even their followers. We often associate with names and movements because we want to become like them.
In Scripture, having a name written on you is not much different. It is a symbol of loyalty, of character development, and even a sign of protection. Maybe the most infamous example of people “taking on a name” is the mark of the beast in Revelation. Whatever the bewildering “666” turns out to be, it is ultimately a mark of intense loyalty and association. Those who take on the mark are making a final association—we will follow this person and this cause come hell or high water.
But that is not the only name written on people. When God promises relationship and salvation from the troubles of this world to the church in Philadelphia, he says this:
The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name. (3:12)
This name is so important to Christ, he repeats the idea three times. It turns out that God writing his name on his people is not just a mark of relationship and loyalty between them, it is a marker of protection. In chapters 7 and 14 those marked with his name are protected for life eternal with their God. And in a dramatic prophecy in Ezekiel 9, God’s wrath does not commence until his faithful worshipers are protected by having God’s name inscribed on their foreheads.
Look down at what you are wearing. Look around the room you are sitting in. Bring to mind the books you read and the shows you watch. What names have you chosen to associate with? What and whose character are you trying to emulate? Above any and every name is the name of Jesus Christ.
Bearing the name of Christ is the ultimate and eschatological association. Come what may, I will bear the name of my Savior and Redeemer. He will be to me the most important consideration in life and in death. His Word is my final rule of faith and action. His Empowering Presence is my daily food and water. His glory and call will be my guide.
Other names will compete for your attention, your money, your worldview, and for your life. This is why the promise is to the one who “conquers.” It takes effort – even warfare – to faithfully bear the name of Jesus Christ.
Companies and brand names compete for your loyalty by creating a culture of brand recognition and consumer atmosphere. You learn through billboards and commercials that certain kinds of people wear certain brands of clothing and eat at certain restaurants. And then, companies and their marketing firms hope, you will decide to look like and eat like those people in the attempt to have a piece of the lives they have. Plenty of people—especially young people—become loyal consumers of a certain brand in order to have the same cache the people they see in the commercials have.
To put someone’s or something’s name on you is a gesture of loyalty. There is even a level of character imitation when we take a name and put it on. Politicians pass out buttons and bumper stickers hoping you will be recognized as their supporters, even their followers. We often associate with names and movements because we want to become like them.
In Scripture, having a name written on you is not much different. It is a symbol of loyalty, of character development, and even a sign of protection. Maybe the most infamous example of people “taking on a name” is the mark of the beast in Revelation. Whatever the bewildering “666” turns out to be, it is ultimately a mark of intense loyalty and association. Those who take on the mark are making a final association—we will follow this person and this cause come hell or high water.
But that is not the only name written on people. When God promises relationship and salvation from the troubles of this world to the church in Philadelphia, he says this:
The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name. (3:12)
This name is so important to Christ, he repeats the idea three times. It turns out that God writing his name on his people is not just a mark of relationship and loyalty between them, it is a marker of protection. In chapters 7 and 14 those marked with his name are protected for life eternal with their God. And in a dramatic prophecy in Ezekiel 9, God’s wrath does not commence until his faithful worshipers are protected by having God’s name inscribed on their foreheads.
Look down at what you are wearing. Look around the room you are sitting in. Bring to mind the books you read and the shows you watch. What names have you chosen to associate with? What and whose character are you trying to emulate? Above any and every name is the name of Jesus Christ.
Bearing the name of Christ is the ultimate and eschatological association. Come what may, I will bear the name of my Savior and Redeemer. He will be to me the most important consideration in life and in death. His Word is my final rule of faith and action. His Empowering Presence is my daily food and water. His glory and call will be my guide.
Other names will compete for your attention, your money, your worldview, and for your life. This is why the promise is to the one who “conquers.” It takes effort – even warfare – to faithfully bear the name of Jesus Christ.
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