Saying Goodbye

Two months ago was a time of saying goodbye. It's hard to say goodbye.

But I realized that it's hard because I have been given so much to be thankful for. It's not hard to say goodbye to people you don't love... I'm reminded of Tennyson's words, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

After spending the last five years in school as an undergraduate, I decided last year to pursue graduate school; last spring I decided to go to a new school in a new state. I'd be not only starting at a new school, but starting life in a new city away from the family and friends that I had grown up and become close with. And so the time came to leave Akron, the only home I'd ever known. 


I've moved. But where one chapter ends another begins. And in God's grace, beginning a new chapter doesn't mean that the previous one is lost.

Because the gift of modern technologies takes some of the bite out of distance. Airplanes can bring one home from hundreds of miles for holidays. Skype can bring people together face to face from hundreds of miles at a minute's notice.

Because even though the dynamics of relationships inevitably change, the bonds of strong relationships aren't severed by distance.

Because there is That Day. Even when Christians say goodbye, never to meet again on this earth, what is regained for eternity can never be called lost.

...

And now again, the time has come to say goodbye, to leave Dord Defined, the only blogging home I've ever known. I've moved. But where one chapter ends another begins. I'll continue the conversation as we Journey Til That Day. 

Cross Road

I’m at a crossroad – a big one. I could choose option A or B or C. Quite literally I could turn north or south – or neither.

Life seems to be a series of crossroads. The options now before me have come partly as a result of past choices. The choice I make now will affect future options – when still more choices will still have to be made. Each road at a crossroad leads to another crossroad. The number of branches becomes dizzying.

What will I choose? Where will it take me? Where will I end up?

I want answers. This is important stuff here – it’s my life.

Is it?

“For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Gal. 2:19-20)

That changes my perspective. My life is not my own. But…

What will I choose? Where will it take me? Where will I end up?

I want answers. I want to see.

The answer doesn’t come as I wanted it to. I don’t see further down each branch of the road. Instead, I see the road itself with new eyes: I’m not at a crossroad; I’m on the cross road.

What will I choose? “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

Where will it take me? “Whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:24)

Where will I end up? “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.” (Rev. 21:3)

I want to see. “They shall see his face.” (Rev. 22:4)

Too Fruitful?

“Is it possible to have too much fruit and not enough productivity?” That was the question raised by Laedelas in response to the last post.

It started me thinking (or kept me thinking -- you might call this Round 2), and I found my response to be far too long for a comment. Thus, this post!

Clearly, I'm no expert, and I hope people will call me out if my answers are unbiblical (or just plain don't make sense). After a lot of thinking...

I propose that there are three main categories of "not enough productivity"
(1) Reasons unknown and/or beyond our control (priorities are right and responsibilities stewarded, but the results aren't there)
(2) Inefficiencies that are being or will be appropriately addressed (we all have these)
(3) Laziness, misplaced priorities, etc

So Laedelas, if I understand your question, you're not talking about (1) or (2), because you mentioned "too much fruit" in conjunction with “not enough productivity” -- a problem of priorities (not mere inefficiencies) that hasn't been personally addressed. I talked about overemphasizing productivity and ignoring fruitfulness in the first post, so I think you're asking: what happens when they are switched? What does it look like to overreact?

Can we emphasize fruitfulness and relationships to the point of being unproductive (and ultimately irresponsible)? Yes. But would I call that situation one with "too much fruit"? No. I can't think of any Biblical reason to say that one could have too much [real] fruit.

So if there is "not enough" productivity in sense (1) or (2), I don't think it could be attributed to any manner of over-fruitfulness. If it's in the sense of (3), caused by a person suddenly becoming obsessed with producing fruit and ignoring productivity*, I would question whether one is truly being fruitful. And therein is the irony: instead of being fruitful, the focus fallen on producing fruit. It's just an over-spiritualized re-invention of the productivity obsession.

Productivity and fruitfulness aren't meant to be an either-or. I argued in the last post that one can have "productivity" without having any fruitfulness. But I don't think that one can have fruitfulness without having productivity*, because fruitfulness is neither an abstract idea nor a pursuit unto itself, but comes as our lives image forth the character of God in all that we do. Fruitfulness can come while productively displaying creativity and integrity and patience... the list goes on.

The testimony of a person who over-emphasizes productivity in the typical American sense might be, "He gets a lot accomplished, but he doesn't have time to truly care about you." The testimony of a person who over-emphasizes productivity in the over-spiritualized sense might be, "He says he cares about you, but he doesn't have time to practically put actions behind the words or to practically fulfill his responsibilities." The testimony is not really any better when it is one of irresponsibility in the name of relationships. In fact, it's probably worse for the hypocrisy.

Proverbs says "A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches" (22:1). One thing I've been thinking about in regards to fruitfulness is that our testimony is far more important than racking up the longest (checked-off) checklist. I think we're fruitful not in people seeing our lives and attributing it to ourselves (much like accomplishments, etc), but in people seeing our lives and attributing it to God. But must someone attribute it to God for us to be truly fruitful? It's important that this happen, yes -- we must guard against thinking that we will honor God without anyone else ever needing to know that he deserves credit, but fruitfulness can't ultimately be judged by others or ourselves. Others might never attribute our lives to God. They might never recognize that God has changed our priorities and our lives.

This is tough, because we want to see results. More than tough, it's part of our problem, because we want a way to deem ourselves worthy. But it is no better to replace "Look how productive I've been!" with "Look how fruitful I've been!" as the boast we want to make. It's not a matter of switching priorities from short-term "to-dos" to long-term relationships -- still with our eyes and hearts set on this life. If fruitfulness is judged by God from an eternal perspective (and everything that matters is), and if we can’t produce it, then we have no boast in ourselves.

So life gets tricky, because it's not a matter simply of choosing to spend time with the family instead of working on my checklist. This makes me desperate for God, because my choosing certain priorities for my time doesn't guarantee productivity or fruitfulness.

I want to be productive, but in a way that shows that my treasure is in heaven, not on earth. I want to be fruitful, but in a way that my fruitfulness is not the focus. I want to have a good name, but in a way that my name is not on people's lips, but rather "the name that is above every name" (Phil. 2:9).

The Gospel of Jesus Christ saves me not only from God's wrath, but also from a wasted life -- and not only from a wasted life, but also from having to make myself good enough to be able to stop wasting it.


*in a Biblical sense, not according to the world's expectations

Productivity and Fruitfulness

Our culture talks a lot about productivity. We Christians do too -- at least, I do. Let me give a recent personal example: I wasn't as productive over Christmas break as I had planned to be. True statement. Disappointing, too, considering I have had to play some catch-up since then. So yes, it's disappointing in a sense, yet I don't regret the way I spent my time over break. Why? As I've jokingly told some people over the last week, I suppose that to be more productive I should've spent less time with family and friends. (After all, it's only Christmastime.)

Bottom line: yes, the way I chose to spend my time was less productive than it could've been. But was it less fruitful?

I've been starting to ponder the difference between productivity and fruitfulness. Have you ever noticed that the Bible talks a whole lot more about one than the other? But wait, maybe that's just due to the translators' choice for English wording. I don't have the academic credentials to definitively state otherwise, but I don't think the difference is that simple for one reason: the English words aren't considered to be synonymous, and translators pick up on such things.

I think the difference is more than just semantics.

Trying to measure the effects of our choices is difficult, in some ways even impossible. But here's my thought: we view productivity as generally measurable, while fruitfulness often isn't (not in the short term, anyway). Because of this, I think the American tendency to strive for measurable results pushes us as Christians to give more thought and effort to our productivity than to our fruitfulness.

Am I saying that productivity is bad? Or that I will never again plan out ways to be productive? No and no. Productivity is good. But I think that if it's not sought in tandem with fruitfulness, it becomes ultimately worthless.

Unless you're in a planning meeting, simply spending time with people -- accomplishing nothing in particular -- is not done to be productive. (Either that, or relationships are viewed for their business potential in some kind of what-will-I-be-able-to-get-out-of-this-person-later attitude.) But I think that fruitfulness comes by investing in relationships. That's why I don't regret bumping my to-dos down the priority list to spend extra time with family and friends over the past month.

As an extreme example, think of a workaholic. Would you call him productive? Probably. (Look at all of the results he gets in his job!) Would you call him fruitful? No. His life and priorities are totally out balance. He is totally neglecting relationships -- with God and with everyone else.

We've all heard the old saying that no one says on his deathbed, "I wish I'd spent more time at the office." The idea isn't that a person realizes that he was unproductive. Looking at his life as a tree, perhaps the tree has grown large and can be seen from afar. Not only that, but the lawn around it has been carefully manicured, and a fence has been built around it to keep out intruders. But as one looks at the tree, it becomes clear that the tree itself is barren. Completely. It's impressive, it's noticeable, but the few pieces of fruit that once hung from its branches long ago shriveled and fell to the ground from neglect. That is what we might call a very productive, completely unfruitful life. Too easily, it's the American life -- not just for "them" but for us too.

Hunger, Thirst

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

(Matthew 5:6)

I hunger and thirst for comfort, ease, respect, man's approval. None of these will ever leave me satisfied. What should be different is not how desperate I am for what I want nor how successful I am at getting what I want, but what I want. Jesus says that if I hunger and thirst for righteousness, I will be satisfied.

Those other things I long for I might actually obtain, but they are ultimately empty. Righteousness, however, I cannot obtain on my own. I need Christ; I need the righteousness of God. To hunger and thirst for righteousness is to hunger and thirst for Christ--that His blood and righteousness would cover me. Turning in hunger and thirst to Him for righteousness, I receive it, and I am satisfied.

Endings

Summer's over. It ended a week ago, really. School's been back for a week and a day. But I'm just now getting around to recording some thoughts.

Many good things come to an end. Life keeps moving. It's quite a bit different than it was five years ago. I expect it will be vastly different in another five. I've never thought myself to be an overly sentimental person, but I've found myself, in several changing situations, having difficulty moving on.

The first brings me to a good story. Make that a few good stories. I had the privilege of serving again as a team leader along with Jodi P- at the youth camp our church shares with two other sister churches. One good story is that our team won. Quite handily, I might add. A 5-1 record, with buzzer-beating, tie-breaking shots winning three of the games for us. Pretty cool. But that's not the good story I meant to get to.

As we packed up the vans on the last morning and everyone milled about, waiting to jump in and head back to Akron, I stepped back inside. Everyone in my vehicle was standing outside. I was inside for 60 seconds. I took one last look around the now-empty building. I have no idea what kind of commitments I'll have next summer, and there will be plenty of other young men fresh out of high school who should be able to serve as team leaders at youth camp. "This is probably the last time I'll see this place," I thought. Yes, I was feeling sentimental. But that didn't last for more than a few seconds.

I stepped back outside. I didn't see anyone from my church standing around anymore. I didn't see the van I was (supposed to be) riding in parked in its place -- because it was already halfway down the long driveway. Have you ever run to catch your ride? I shuffled across the the stone-and-dirt parking lot as fast as I could. Shuffled, because I was in sandals. Fast -- not really. So I grabbed my sandals and ran in the grass alongside the driveway until I caught up to the van and knocked on the door. It seems everyone forgot to check the list of people who were supposed to ride home in the vehicle, and no one remembered that I would be riding with them. Well, almost no one. I did have one friend say, "I thought you were supposed to be riding with us." Thanks, man. At least you said you would've asked the driver before we totally left town. (If you're reading this, no hard feelings. I actually think it's really funny.)

So why do I share this story? Two reasons. First, as I said, I think it's funny. Second, it was a lot of fun. I've never been left behind and I've never run a hundred yards to catch up to my ride before. Third (wait, I said two reasons? make it three), it has stayed with me as an illustration. When leaving a place or people that have meant a lot, it's easy to stare out the back window the whole time -- literally and figuratively. There's nothing wrong with a few sentimental feelings. But the time comes to move on. And when that time comes, there's no use looking back. When I left youth camp, I didn't look back. I couldn't. The last view I had of the camp was from the front door of the retreat center. Then I was running as fast as my sandals (then bare feet) would carry me. I wasn't running away from the camp. I was running to the van, because that's where I was supposed to be. I wouldn't have it any other way.

That picture has already helped me since then. I worked full-time for thirteen months (since the beginning of last year) as an engineering co-op. I had my last day less than two weeks ago. I'd already said good-byes at work twice before to return to school. But I knew I would return for another work rotation. Not this time. Seeing a place and people almost every day, and then coming to the point where you realize that you may never see them again... it really makes one stop and think. I had time to evaluate, to give thanks, to say good-bye. When I walked out the door for the last time, I also had time to look back. I didn't. I didn't want to.

There's a small group of really good friends that I've served with in a church ministry team for the past few years (almost three years with some of them). We'd grown from four when I started to five and then seven. The team had grown before. For the first time, though, people were moving on. For different (good) reasons, four out of seven would not return. For all that I enjoyed our times together along the way, I wish I could have enjoyed them more. The change is a good thing. New young people have a chance to grow and to serve the church, an opportunity they wouldn't have had if some of us didn't have to move on. Memories of the past few years are treasured. But there's no going back. And so there's no looking back.

As a good friend (one of the four) moved to college out of state, I mentioned that more frequent posts on life in Ohio might be in order. This, in a way, is one. Study hard, brother.

Many good things come to an end. Don't look back.

The best things shall never come to an end. Press forward for what ultimately lies ahead.

(Thanks to JPB for the pictures.)

"Who Do You Say That I Am?"

Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.

(Matthew 16:13-17, ESV)

This passage got my thoughts rolling. However, this is written more as a series of thoughts than a well-written post, so hopefully it doesn't seem totally disjointed.

The Christian faith is both objective and personal; objective Truth demands a personal response.

The identity of Jesus is not a mental or philosophical exercise where all answers are equal. And yet Jesus asked the disciples for a personal response: "Who do you say that I am?" That's much more specific than the first question: "Who do people say that [I] am?"

Jesus asked Peter what he believed. Jesus knew His own identity. He did not need Peter (or anyone else) to speak affirming words.

Just as it mattered that Peter himself believed (more than being able to say what others believed), what Peter believed mattered. Jesus did not say to Peter, "That's great. It is good that you have thought things through, and have settled on an answer that satisfies you." Jesus asked Peter about his personal belief; He did not, however, affirm all beliefs as equally valid.

But the lesson does not stop there. Jesus did not say to Peter, That's great. It is good that you have thought things through, and have settled on the answer that is right." Jesus does not flatter our ability to reason to come to Him.

We have a faith that is built on divine revelation: "For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven." We can indeed reason based on this revelation, but we cannot reason to attain revelation.

Jesus says, "Who do you say that I am?" and we have to answer personally. And when we believe and confess that He is the Christ, the Son of the living God, we can praise our Father in heaven.

The Color of Hope

I've seen it.
You've seen it.
Your neighbor's seen it.
In fact, your neighbor is probably hanging it -- a poster with a politician's face and the word HOPE.

I'm not here to enumerate the aspects that I find deeply disturbing. They are many, but I'm not here to write a political rant. There are plenty of other blogs for that.

Messianic overtones lauding a political leader are far from unique in human history. Quite frankly, they should not surprise us; a lost mankind longs for hope, and runs to those things or persons which promise it. But beyond whatever associations you have with seeing the word "hope" plastered by a human face, something else caught my attention: the poster is shaded, shaded in red, white, and blue.

The message is clear. Hope is not in partisan red. Hope is not in partisan blue. Hope is in one candidate to unite the red, the white, and the blue.

One way or another, many people will be disappointed with tomorrow's election results.

In recent years, many Christians have already experienced increasing polictical disappointment. For many, hope in partisan red has been exposed as hope in fallen men. We long for change (and yet a far different change than the change many call for). We long for a return to our nation's roots. We want liberty and justice for all. Good. Needed. Be involved. Work for liberty and justice. But how desperately are we longing for this?

What color is our hope? Is it red, white, and blue -- colors that will eventually fade, as will all the kingdoms of men?

What color is our hope? Is it red, crimson red?


My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood an rightousness

That the Lord Has Made

I sat on the couch this evening, thinking about tomorrow's waiting tasks, when a sudden thought crossed my mind: some years from now, I may not remember any of what I do tomorrow. I may do nothing either memorable or noteworthy tomorrow. Probably I'll eat breakfast and drive to school and sit in class and do homework and...

Pull a couple of dates at random, and think with me. January 12, 1995 -- I can recall nothing of how I lived that day. June 6, 1999 -- I draw a complete blank. October 8, 2004 -- I have no idea. Did I have a test that day? Apart from checking a calendar, I don't even know if the 8th was on the weekend.

This tends to put a different perspective on tomorrow, but I don't know that it's a healthy one. Five years from now (maybe even five months from now) July 28, 2008 may be nothing more than a random date in my mind. But lest you think these nothing more than lousy thoughts meant to leave you depressed, let me share three truths which help to ground the soul.

1. Whether or not you remember tomorrow, God does, and He will call you to account for it. This is sobering, for we will have to give an account for every careless work we speak (see Matthew 12:36).

2. Whether or not you remember tomorrow, God does, and He will call you to account for it. At the same time, it is joyful news, for we may do things which we reckon almost nothing that please the Lord and an impact on others (see, for example, Matthew 10:42 and Matthew 25:40).

3. Sanctification includes countless small and easily forgotten choices. Maybe the Lord will open your eyes to something as you read the Bible that will have a lifelong impact. Maybe your diligence to pursue daily study of the Word will be blessed by God as He gives you a greater love for His Word. Maybe by God's grace you will flee a temptation you have struggled with, and win a small-yet-significant victory in the battle against indwelling sin. How many such moments are we actually later able to pinpoint? Few, yet be in faith. As one psalmist prayed for the Lord to incline his heart to the Word (Psalm 119:36), or another for the Lord to unite his heart to fear God's name (Psalm 86:11), I doubt that they ever found a day when they decided to check those prayers off and put a star on the calendar. Put another way, answers to such prayers rarely come with postmark dates.


This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118:24)

Reverence

I have a friend I met in Spanish class over two years ago. We've kept up with each other over the following semesters, and have had many good philosophical and theological conversations: the nature of sin, the mercy of God... whether Jesus was divine, or merely a prophet. You see, my friend is a Muslim. I am a Christian.

We hadn't seen each other in over a year (he finished an accelerated undergraduate program in two years and moved on to medical school this past year), so I contacted him last month to inquire after how he was doing and whether he'd be interested in getting together. He was, so we did. After catching up for a little while, our conversation turned back to the Bible and to the Koran, to Jesus and to Mohammad. Four hours later, toward the end of our conversation, he told me that he would be willing to read the Bible if I gave him one, and that he would give me a Koran to read. We could give each other assigned readings and meet to talk them over every week.

We met again today, talked about divine inspiration, and exchanged gifts. Before we parted, my friend said that he'd be careful to wash his hands before reading the Bible, to not set the Bible on the ground, to not take the Bible into the bathroom--all of the things that Muslims consider to be proper in handling a holy book. "Is there anything else I need to know?" he asked.

I thanked him, and I told him that I would likewise be careful not to disrespect the gift he'd given me. "But the most important thing," I told him, "is your heart in going to read the book. Ask God to help you understand it."

No, the outward aspect of how we physically handle a book doesn't equate true reverence. But it does tend to reflect it. I would not spit on or throw the Bible, because it is the Word of God. But am I nonetheless careless with it? The pages are not so important, but for the words on the pages. The words on the pages are not so important, but for the One of Whom they speak. Do I approach it and handle it with proper reverence because yes, here in my hands I hold, and now read, the self-revelation of God? How do I handle the Bible with my hands? How do I approach the Bible with my heart?

I'd appreciate your prayers--for my friend and for myself. Lord willing, we will be having a number of conversations about what we read in the coming weeks. I'm excited and hopeful. All of my attempts at logical and convincing arguments cannot bring him to faith in Christ. Neither will his reading of Bible merely through human understanding. But he's reading. He's reading the Gospels, the good news of salvation through Jesus Christ. God speaks through His Word.

[I wrote this post a couple weeks ago, but didn't quite have time to finish it and post it. It looks as though we're done with our weekly discussions, but your prayers are still very much appreciated.]

Explain Your Life

Likely you've heard the following words:

"If you were to be put on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"

That's a serious question. It's challenging, no matter how many times you've heard it before. Yet today I came across a quote that took it one step farther.

This morning I picked up Randy Alcorn's The Treasure Principle, a book that is oh-so-brief yet packs a wallop. Among the dozens of convicting, thought-provoking words are those he saw on a missionary's grave in Cairo, Egypt.

I dusted off the epitaph on Bordon's grave. After describing his love and sacrifices for the kingdom of God and for Muslim people, the inscription ended with a phrase I've never forgotten: "Apart from faith in Christ, there is no explanation for such a life."

I don't only want to be an upstanding citizen who also is known to talk about Jesus. Simply being an upstanding, kind, charitable person can be explained apart from faith in Christ, because there are people who appear to be upstanding, kind, and charitable, yet want nothing to do with Christ.

We want people to have no doubt that we have faith in Christ. But even more, we want people to see that the way we live is because we have faith in Christ.

What does it mean for me to live a life that cannot be explained apart from faith in Christ?

With Confidence Draw Near

Have you had the following experience recently? You are reminded of a truth, one that you know and firmly believe in, yet you are suddenly impacted by it in a fresh way.

As noted on my sidebar, I am currently reading Jerry Bridges' The Discipline of Grace. It is a good book, a very good book. Not wanting to speed through it too quickly, I've been doing some extra re-reading and reviewing of earlier chapters as I move forward. While doing this recently, I came across the following quote, which I had marked while reading from chapter one.

"God never intended that we relate to Him directly. Our own performance is never good enough to be acceptable to Him. The only way we can relate to God is through the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ. It is only the blood of Jesus that will cleanse us from a guilty conscience and give us the confidence to enter into the presence of God (Hebrews 10:19-21)."

These words convey theological truths that I know very well in my head. My performance cannot make me acceptable to God, Whom I can only relate to by the blood and righteousness of Christ. Bridges speaks the truth so faithfully with these words. That's why I marked it the first time I read the chapter.

This particular sentence esecially caught my attention as I re-read it: "The only way we can relate to God is through the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ." As I thought about how we relate to God in prayer, and, in doing so, pray in Jesus' name, another passage from Hebrews came to mind.

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Hebrews 4:15-16)

I realized that there are two ways to confidently approach the throne of grace. One is to be confident in approaching simply because we know we can--even knowing that it is ultimately Christ who makes it possible. The second is to be confident in approaching because I have complete confidence in efficacy of the blood and righteousness of Christ. We pray in Jesus' name not only because His once-for-all-time propitiation washed away the sin that would prevent us from coming to God, but also because His righteousness continues to make us worthy to approach the throne of grace.

All of this flashed through my mind in a second (possibly not in so many words, but you get the idea), and a question struck me: [Not just in theological acquiescence, but also in the reality of my attitude] Do I know the difference between boldly approaching the throne of grace and casually approaching the throne of grace?

Ransomed

Forgiven. Alive. Servant. I love the thoughtful responses to my last post. We can easily become over-familiar with the vocabulary of the Cross, and cease to consider the significance of the words we use so often. I don't think that one word can encapsulate all that we are and all that we have received in Christ, but I do think that some words are particularly packed with meaning, and I know that it's worthy thing to take time to consider them.

So yes, I did have a word in mind when I asked that question in my last post. I've been thinking, of late, about what it means that we have been ransomed. This word had been on my mind earlier this year. Then, this month, a chapter in The Cross of Christ brought it back to the forefront of my thoughts. In the chapter called "The Salvation of Sinners," John Stott discusses four words which together describe our salvation: propitiation, redemption, justification, and reconciliation. (I hope to write more about the book, and especially that chapter, sometime soon.)

In the section on redemption, Stott writes that "[We] have been 'ransomed' by Christ, not merely 'redeemed' or 'delivered' by him." This has had me thinking about the significance of being ransomed, beyond merely being redeemed or delivered or freed. Also contributing to my thoughts on this word were the following verses, which I read in my devotions earlier this week.

"Truly no man can ransom another, or give to God the price of his life, for the ransom of their life is costly and can never suffice, that he should live on forever and never see the pit. . . But God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, for he will receive me."
--Psalm 49:7-9, 15 (ESV)

If we want to understand a word, one thing that we can do is look at the dictionary: a consideration paid or demanded for the release of someone or something from captivity.

• If we have been ransomed, then we were in captivity.
• If we have been ransomed, then we have been released from captivity.
• If we have been ransomed, then a price had to be paid. There was no chance of merely "escaping."
• If we have been ransomed, then someone else paid the price.
• Finally, the word ransomed is also in the past tense. It means that it is finished. The price has been paid in full. We are not being ransomed. We have been ransomed.

But the Scriptures instruct us far beyond the dictionary.

• From the Scriptures we see that we were in captivity to sin (John 8:34).
• From the Scriptures we see that we are no longer in captivity because we are alive in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 2:5).
• From the Scriptures we see that a price had to be paid, yet that no man could pay it (Psalm 49:7).
• From the Scriptures we see that Jesus Christ paid our ransom with His own blood (Revelation 5:9).
• From the Scriptures we see that it was finished at the cross (John 19:30), and that Jesus Christ sat down at the right hand of the Father (Hebrews 10:12).

One Word

If you were to choose one word to describe who you are as a follower of Jesus Christ, what word would you choose, and why?

And They Shall Know

I finished the book of Ezekiel today. Reading through the book over the last few weeks impressed a couple of things on me. The first is that I should use a good commentary when next I read Ezekiel. As if the valley of dry bones, the 390 days that Ezekiel spent leaning on his side, the heavenly vision of chapter one, and the detailed descriptions of the new temple weren't reason enough, there are the judgments spoken against the nations and kings: Ammon, Edom, Moab, Egypt and the pharaoh, Tyre and the king of Tyre (to name a few).

The second thought that I am coming away with is a theme that I saw again and again throughout these prophecies. In Ezekiel 5 we read the judgment of Jerusalem's destruction. In verse 13, the Lord says, "And they shall know that I am the Lord. . . " Now, I did not specifically notice this when I read chapter five. Nor did I specifically notice that these words are repeated three more times in chapter six, in the judgment against idolatry. Again, and again, and again, the Lord speaks these words in the midst of judgment: "And you shall know that I am the Lord." Finally, I did begin to notice.

But it is not as though the Lord is saying, "You will know this at last, when it is too late." For fifty-eight verses of chapter sixteen, we read of the faithlessness of Israel. But in the final verses of the chapter, we read of the everlasting covenant of the Lord (v60). We read where He says that the people "shall know that I am the Lord" (v62). And we read the promise that the Lord Himself would atone for their sins (v63).

That is not all. If you remember one thing about the book of Ezekiel, it is probably of the valley of dry bones in chapter thirty-seven. But do you remember how that ends? "And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the Lord" (v14, italics added). In the second half of the chapter, we see the same--and in even greater breadth, for the Lord's work in Israel was to be a testimony to the nations that the Lord is God. The chapter closes with verse twenty-eight: "Then the nations will know that I am the Lord who sanctifies Israel, when my sanctuary is in their midst forevermore." So we see, even in a book full of prophecies of judgment, that the Lord brings glory to His name through redemption.

But what of the other nations, also given over to sin and utter lawlessness, yet not a part of God's chosen people? We read of judgment after judgment, but no restoration--at least, not for the nation. Nonetheless, the words "then you will know that the Lord is God" are spoken in some form at the ends of the prophecies against Ammon (25:7), Moab (25:11), Edom (25:14), Philistia (25:17), Sidon (28:22), Egypt (29:6, 30:25), and Mount Seir (35:4,12).* Especially interesting are the words spoken against Ammon and Egypt. Against Ammon (in 25:7) the Lord says, "I will destroy you. Then you will know that I am the Lord." How can this be? If they were destroyed, who would be left to do any knowing? But consider that they were destroyed as a nation, and a remnant of the people remained, with the knowledge of Who is the Lord. See also, in the judgment against Egypt, how the Lord says that "all the inhabitants of Egypt shall know that I am the Lord" (29:6).

He did not say that these people would come to repentance. But He did break their pride. He did promise that they would know that the Lord is God. As God pours out His righteous wrath on nations, it is His mercy to that nation's people to bring that judgment in this life, if it means opening their eyes to see that the Lord is God. The judgment that He brings is ultimately for the glory of His name--that is the purpose stated again and again. Yet we are shown mercy when He glorifies His name in this way, if He shows us our sinful state before Him, if He opens our eyes to see that the Lord is God.

We, as redeemed, personally know God's mercy in saving us from His holy wrath and judgment. This is the thought that I have been pondering: God is merciful to bring judgment in this life, when it means breaking hardened hearts and opening blind eyes to see that He is the Lord.


*(For reference, here is a quick list of thirty-eight appearances of the phrase "shall know that I am the Lord" appears times in Ezekiel; this phrase appears a total of fifty-one times in the whole Bible.)

Thoughts of a Voter

I voted. Those are the words on the sticker that I received after handing in my ballot. They are two words that make a very simple statement--simple, yet not simplistic.

As Christians, we know that we have a responsibility to vote, and to do so wisely. I take this seriously; so do many Christians that I know. We try to be informed about the candidates and the issues before we head off to the polls, seeking to identify the people and measures which would most closely uphold Biblical principles. Things become complicated, though. We all know that. There are no perfect candidates, and the ramifications of many ballot issues can be confusing.

One lone person going out to the polls can appear inconsequential. I feel patriotic when I vote. I know I should vote. I am thankful to be able to vote. But I still wonder if my vote will make a difference. When the results come in, and thousands of votes separate many of the races and issues which I voted on, will the presence of my vote have made a difference? Yes and no. The fact is, my vote can make a difference along with many others. So yes, it will make a difference. But think about this: when I (or we, I know I'm not the only one) have these thoughts, what I really wonder is whether my vote will make the difference. Will my vote put a certain candidate on top? The problem with this is a two-fold display of arrogance. First, I assume that if the tally shows a difference of one vote, my vote is of greater importance than that of the thousands or millions of others who voted with me. Second, I assume that what I do only matters if I can see how it makes a difference, the difference.

Think about those words again: will my vote make the difference? The fact is, the greatest problem with this attitude is that it carries over into the rest of our lives. I vote every day. You vote every day. And not just once a day. With every action we do, with every decision we make, with every thought that we think, we are proclaiming our support--and our allegiance--either for God and His ways, or for selfishness and the ways of the devil. (It's funny; though I wasn't intending to write a follow-up post, the quote that I posted over the weekend fits in with this.)

In an election, our votes determine the winner. God, however, does not need to have the majority of the people supporting and serving Him to defeat the devil. His victory does not depend on our obedience, because it has already been accomplished. In this way, we know that our actions will not make the difference. Here again we see the danger of that attitude and question. As Christians who have been taught of the sovereignty of God, we know that He will ultimately conquer. Like the citizen who decides against voting because He believes His vote will not make the difference, we as Christians sometimes doubt the importance of obedience.

Here's an example. Let's say something isn't going as I had planned. If I listen to my flesh, this inconvenience will affect my attitude. It will affect my actions. It will even affect how much I care about its effects. Though the following thoughts won't necessarily go through my mind, they are represented in my attitude. So what is the difference? Does it even make a difference? If this is a sinful attitude God will convict me and I'll repent and move on. It cannot make the difference for anything. The arrogant assumption here (much like we saw earlier regarding political voting) is that if our actions do not make the difference, then they do not make a difference, and if they do not make a difference, then they do not matter.

But our actions do matter. We know from Scripture that our obedience is important (Leviticus 18:4, John 3:36, Acts 5:29, and many others). Yet because we know that God is sovereign and that we are saved through Christ's atoning work on the cross, we know that there is no question of us making the difference. Unlike voting, our choices are not a matter of enough people combining to make the difference in the outcome. Though the voter analogy breaks down (as do all), we see in both cases the importance of realizing that nothing is about us. My wanting to make the difference is about me. It is about my desire to see the impact of my choices so that I may feel good about what I have done, whether in voting or in obeying. But we don't have to assume that what we do either makes the difference or that it doesn't matter. We can desire to make a difference for God's glory, to "[participate] with God in transforming the world to reflect His righteousness" (see the quote in the post below), when we focus on Him instead of on ourselves.

Finally, my actions matter because they have impact that I do not see. Like the voter who only believes his vote is worthwhile if he can see the difference it makes, we can fall into the trap of thinking that our actions do not matter because we do not see their impact. But obeying my flesh not only affects my attitude and my actions, it also affects the way I reflect Christ, and this matters greatly.

I voted. I don't know how my vote will make a difference, but that's all right. What matters is faithfulness to be obedient to vote wisely; I'll now leave the impact of my vote up to God.

Trust

I read this verse in my devotions this morning, and have been pondering it since.

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord." (Jeremiah 17:7, ESV)

Is there a difference between saying "I trust in the Lord" and saying "My trust is the Lord," or is it merely poetic repetition? It seems to me that there may be a subtle difference, that saying "My trust is the Lord" is stronger--perhaps the difference between saying "I'm going to choose to put my trust in Him" and "I would not even know what it is to trust apart from Him."

As I said, it's been on my mind. What do you think?

Changing Seasons

One season must end before another begins. I know. There is nothing profound in that statement. But sometimes I want to enjoy two seasons at once.

What brings these thoughts to mind is the fact that summer just ended--and please don't remind me that fall doesn't officially start until September 23. Monday is the beginning of my next school semester--the Fall Semester. Whatever the calendar might say, I think there must be a reason why people say "summer vacation" and "fall semester." This is a bittersweet time for me. I love summer: the vacations; the time with family and extended family; the sports; and, yes, the extra free time. But I love fall as well: the crisp air, the hikes through the woods, and the coming of the holidays. I only wish that I could have the best of both seasons.

I guess this is nothing new for me. Whenever something fun or exciting happens, or whenever I make some great memories, I begin to wonder when it (the activity or event) will happen again. I want a repeat experience. If we have a church picnic, I can't wait for the next one. If we go to a bonfire, I begin to think about when we can do it again. I suppose that all of us, when we enjoy something, would like to repeat the experience.

The problem is that seasons change--and I'm not just talking about the four that come 'round every year. Even if the same activity happens, it will not be an exact repeat; who takes part might change, or else be changed. The danger of good memories lies in always comparing them to the present, and feeling that the present doesn't measure up if anything is different.

Seasons change. Thank God that they do. I don't really want to continue working my summer job through the rest of the year; and yet, when next summer comes around, I'll be glad to work and to have some time off of school. But the reason I'm grateful for change is not that it keeps me from boredom: there are many responsibilities in life that will continue, even as years or decades go by. Instead, I'm grateful because God uses change to remind me that I'm not in control and that He is. I otherwise tend to become confident in what I know, thinking that it amounts to a whole lot more than it does. Change brings challenges. Challenges remind me of my weaknesses. And my weaknesses remind of my need for God and of His greatness.

A Better Way to Waste? (Pt. 2)

In addition to the issue of saving money in order to waste it elsewhere, there is the problem of wasting time in order to save money. A few days ago, shortly after buying the textbook for one of my classes this semester, I discovered that I could have saved about $6.50 by buying it elsewhere. My thoughts upon realizing this resembled the following: Bummer. Well, it's not a huge difference on an eighty dollar book. Then again, $6.50 is $6.50. If I'd spent $6.50 on a few ice cream cones and dropped them on the sidewalk, I'd feel I lost it for nothing.

The book is returnable, and I might return it to buy it at the lower price--a minor hassle, considering I could be going back anyway--but thinking about it made me wonder, what makes it worth it to take the extra time to save money? And how do we know when, in our attempts to save money, we are instead wasting time?

First there are obvious cases: the "big ticket" items such as houses and cars. A wise person will spend the necessary time to investigate different options, compare costs and benefits, and make an informed decision. But what about smaller things? It's obvious that it's important to shop around for the best price on cars; it's obvious that it's much less important to shop around for the best price on apples; but what about the stuff in between, like books or electronics?

Now, I realize that with the internet it is possible to compare a lot of prices online. But this is not always possible. At such times, you must ask yourself whether it's worthwhile to go to two or three different stores to discover where you can save a few dollars.

The first question to ask, I think, is whether your time would be better spent elsewhere. If you're supposed to run to the store to buy some more soft drinks before the cookout begins, it's probably better to pay a little extra at the convenience store and return to help around the house than to drive an extra twenty minutes to save money at the superstore. I'm sure you could come up with plenty of other, better examples, but I think you can understand my point.

But if there is nothing else in particular that we should be doing? Like me, you've probably heard (without having any idea where) the saying, "Time is money." Materialists may intend it to mean that time is to be turned into money. In my opinion, however, this saying points out the willingness that even--or especially--the frugal may have to waste time.

So when is it worthwhile to spend an extra thirty minutes to go to another store? Remember that other saying, "A penny saved is a penny earned"? (Actually, taking taxes into account. . . never mind.) Here is my theory: if you're saving less money hourly than you make hourly, it's probably not worth your time. Because that probably didn't make a lot of sense, I'll give an example. The items on a certain grocery list can be purchased at the SuperCenter for $120. The shopping takes one hour. The same groceries can be purchased for a total of $100 if one goes to five different stores scattered across town. To do this, however, would take three hours. To a person earning $8/hour, saving twenty dollars in two hours would be well worth it. The same may not be true, however, for a person earning $20/hour.

Let me clarify a few things. First, I don't believe that we can categorically put a quantifiable value on time. If this were so, it would never be worthwhile for us to have non business-related conversations. If, however, the time in question would be spent trying to save money, this way of thinking might be useful.

Second, just as we must ask ourselves who our money belongs to, so too we must also ask ourselves Who our time belongs to. One person, in best stewarding his time and money, may spend more time saving money, while another may spend more money saving time. I'm curious to hear what others think. And yes, I admit to often being way too analytical.

A Better Way to Waste? (Pt. 1)

Everyone's had it happen. Fresh off of filling your tank with gas, you discover that you could have saved money by filling up at a different gas station. If you're like me, you immediately begin calculating how much money you could have saved. Let's see. . . eight cents per gallon. . . I bought about twelve gallons. . . that's a whole dollar down the drain.

Obviously, we'd all love to get the best deal on gasoline--and everything else, for that matter. The problem is that we can often spend time bemoaning the money wasted in such ways while ignoring the money wasted in other ways. I'm not about to get into a whole discussion of discretionary spending--read Money, Possessions & Eternity for a strong, Biblical perspective--but I wonder, do we consider our use of all dollars equally? Do we only desire to find the best deals so that we can waste that money in other ways?

The character Richard Carstone, from Charles Dickens' Bleak House, serves as an exaggerated example of this attitude. Though a kind young man, Richard was quite näive, especially when it came to money. On several occasions, his friends talked him out of foolish expenditures. Richard, however, viewed this not merely as money saved, but as money credited to him. Thus, if he nearly wasted £2, he believed he could spend £1 elsewhere, and come out £1 ahead overall.

While his reasoning is somewhat comical, it begs a serious question: what is wasting money? Coming to this point, I sometimes argue, At least I'm getting something out of it. That dollar I wasted when I filled up my tank got me nothing. I'm still getting [fill in the blank] with this money. The thing that makes the matter complicated is that this is usually true. Obviously, there's nothing inherently wrong with buying a soft drink, a new shirt, or a snack. Overall, I suppose the question comes to be whether or not we view "our" money as God's. Do we buy soft drinks, shirts, and snacks on impulse, or are we looking for opportunities to give?

But what about that dollar wasted on the gas? Are we not to care? Here's my conclusion. It's great to get the best price on gas, but we need to ask ourselves why. Why do we want to save money? Is it because we want more to use as we desire, or because we want to be good stewards of what God has given us? If the dollar is already gone, and we view the money as God's, yet still feel frustrated, are we trusting God to help us use it best?

The other side of this issue is the fact that the money isn't always the issue. Free stuff isn't always good to have. If a free donut is going to make me feel sick, or a free computer game is going to tempt me to waste time, I still should pass it up. But this post is long enough. I'll have to write about time and money later.