"While he [Jesus] lived on earth, anticipating death, Jesus cried out in pain and wept in sorrow as he offered up priestly prayers to God. Because he honored God, God answered him. Though he was God's Son, he learned trusting-obedience by what he suffered, just as we do."
Heb 5:7
"Anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived."
I John 2:6
"...he [Jesus] humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on the cross."
Phil 2:8
These scriptures, plus a few more, are transforming my thinking. They are taking what I used to think and not totally getting rid of it, but moving it aside.
"live the same kind of life Jesus lived"
That life looks like a man who looks not only to his own interests, but more importantly others. It is serving. It is hearing and obeying. Knowing that we are lower than angels, saved by the works and hand of God and living a not-my-will-but-yours life. Sounds like self-sacrifice? It isn't. It is hearing and obeying. That might include self-sacrifice, but it is not the core.
Jesus knew where He came from. He knew where He was going. He knew His Father had put all things in His hands. His identity was firmly in place. That enabled him to be humble. He humbled Himself knowing that the Father works all things for good. He suffered in order to be taught "trusting-obedience", the Son of God did that. Why? Because we are taught trusting-obedience through suffering. Why? So that we can be sons of God. That is our identity. We are born from heaven now. We are heavenly people; our home is heaven. Through Jesus our God-who-can-identifies-with-us, we are joint heirs.
God the Father is calling us to Himself. This does require taking up the cross. The cross can mean self-sacrifice, but it means "hearing and obeying" inclusively.
So, when you find yourself flagging in your faith, go over the story of Jesus' suffering and death and resurrection, item by item, the long litany of hostility he endured. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls and cause you to soar with faith. So, endure the cross for the joy set before you.
And if you want to know God intimately...live as Jesus lived.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
My Heart
Well...
Here it is and that's where it stays,
A hard stone heart, cold as it lays
in the middle of His palm it desires to beat again
but the life in the blood appears to be at its end.
The cry of the heart is weak and its cracked
For it hasn't been washed and the layers are stacked,
Layers of times of Pride and of Doubt
Where the heart heard the voice but never turned around.
And as its still and life almost gone,
The hard stone heart looks at what its done.
Trying to cry but no tears will flow
It strains to hear the rooster crow.
A chance to see where its gone wrong
Or to turn and believe, its chances might be gone.
From dried cracked lips, the heart begins to sing
Gratitude and thanks for the little life that still beats.
He wants the hand that holds him, to break Him apart
For maybe in pieces, he'll be a better heart.
He's heard of healing hands that puts hearts together again
"What's going on?" he moans, and confusion sets in.
A piercing crow splits his side
And tears begin to flow as he lays there and cries
He sees what he's done, and thats all he sees
He hates what he was, and from it to be free
The hand brings the heart close to His face;
The poor broken heart can not bear his pain.
He falls apart, blood softening the hard.
Surrendering, he is washed.
Here it is and that's where it stays,
Pieces of the heart in hands blood-stained.
The hands enclose over it, sealing the heart
It will be used to revive others who, once cold and hard, have broken apart.
November 2006
Here it is and that's where it stays,
A hard stone heart, cold as it lays
in the middle of His palm it desires to beat again
but the life in the blood appears to be at its end.
The cry of the heart is weak and its cracked
For it hasn't been washed and the layers are stacked,
Layers of times of Pride and of Doubt
Where the heart heard the voice but never turned around.
And as its still and life almost gone,
The hard stone heart looks at what its done.
Trying to cry but no tears will flow
It strains to hear the rooster crow.
A chance to see where its gone wrong
Or to turn and believe, its chances might be gone.
From dried cracked lips, the heart begins to sing
Gratitude and thanks for the little life that still beats.
He wants the hand that holds him, to break Him apart
For maybe in pieces, he'll be a better heart.
He's heard of healing hands that puts hearts together again
"What's going on?" he moans, and confusion sets in.
A piercing crow splits his side
And tears begin to flow as he lays there and cries
He sees what he's done, and thats all he sees
He hates what he was, and from it to be free
The hand brings the heart close to His face;
The poor broken heart can not bear his pain.
He falls apart, blood softening the hard.
Surrendering, he is washed.
Here it is and that's where it stays,
Pieces of the heart in hands blood-stained.
The hands enclose over it, sealing the heart
It will be used to revive others who, once cold and hard, have broken apart.
November 2006
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
HOLY
There stands in a moment of time, in split second of a finger twitch, decisions that foreshadow eternity. Even though it is impossible to foreshadow something that is. The best way for people to understand things is through analogies and parallels to what they know. We need something to measure, whatever we are trying to understand, against. Some sort of standard in our mind that will bring us closer to the revelation we seek. That is why stories with morals, and parables with an underlying meaning, and metaphors and similes are so vital to the human.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Is the core of the Christian life self-sacrifice?
Dying to your own desires and serving and living for God and others?
No and Yes.
The very center of Christianity is Christ. He is the center and everything encompassing it. He is the core. In Him is all the supremacy. The world was made by Him. For Him. Through Him. Jesus, the Son of God, calls us to Himself. He is the mirror of God's Glory, representing the Father God exactly. The very image of God. He holds the universe together by the power of His word. He became incarnated. The Word made flesh. God becoming human. Fully human and fully God. He endured the cross for the joy set before Him. If we say we are Christians, we should walk as Jesus did. He is our model.
He calls us to Himself. It is His voice that we are practicing to hear. The voice that speaks the words that sustains the universe. He calls us to life...abundant. He gives us joy and sets it before us and it is for this that we endure the cross, the suffering of everyday life that we face.
I will write more on that question. Right now I would say self-sacrifice is not the core of Christianity. If it were, the monks of old who secluded themselves from society and beat themselves in order to be holy were the purest Christians for the denied from their self many pleasures. No, it has to be something more.
Dying to your own desires and serving and living for God and others?
No and Yes.
The very center of Christianity is Christ. He is the center and everything encompassing it. He is the core. In Him is all the supremacy. The world was made by Him. For Him. Through Him. Jesus, the Son of God, calls us to Himself. He is the mirror of God's Glory, representing the Father God exactly. The very image of God. He holds the universe together by the power of His word. He became incarnated. The Word made flesh. God becoming human. Fully human and fully God. He endured the cross for the joy set before Him. If we say we are Christians, we should walk as Jesus did. He is our model.
He calls us to Himself. It is His voice that we are practicing to hear. The voice that speaks the words that sustains the universe. He calls us to life...abundant. He gives us joy and sets it before us and it is for this that we endure the cross, the suffering of everyday life that we face.
I will write more on that question. Right now I would say self-sacrifice is not the core of Christianity. If it were, the monks of old who secluded themselves from society and beat themselves in order to be holy were the purest Christians for the denied from their self many pleasures. No, it has to be something more.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
The 9th Symphony of the String
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I left it alone for maybe I thought the sky would fall and the world I lived in would be done. I came back to this string on the day after yesterday, and it seemed to speak an unheard mystery. There it hung, to nothing it clung, and so my curiosity got the best of me as my hand sought the story of the unsung.
There are no pictures to show what I saw. My hand reached out grabbing the string and my mind connected to everything, it all poured in. I left the ground and started to soar my clothes they fell and and a world is born. I wonder who else has come to this string and experienced this mystery and if it was the same. It might be a dream, thats what it would seem, but an ordinary dream is just like steam for you see it and then it rapidly flees.
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I can not say, for one reason or another, exactly what happens in the midst of it all, but until you reach out to take this string your soul will dream, and life will be an unheard mystery. So there it stays, even til this day, waiting for a soul to take a hold and live the unsung story for which they were made.
There are no pictures to show what I saw. My hand reached out grabbing the string and my mind connected to everything, it all poured in. I left the ground and started to soar my clothes they fell and and a world is born. I wonder who else has come to this string and experienced this mystery and if it was the same. It might be a dream, thats what it would seem, but an ordinary dream is just like steam for you see it and then it rapidly flees.
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I can not say, for one reason or another, exactly what happens in the midst of it all, but until you reach out to take this string your soul will dream, and life will be an unheard mystery. So there it stays, even til this day, waiting for a soul to take a hold and live the unsung story for which they were made.
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