I wish I had more hours in the day.
If I won the lottery, I'd give half to the church. Think of the things we could do with that!
I'll sleep later ... there's work to do!
I wish God had made me better at this! It would be good for His purposes - why didn't He give me more talent?
We bump up against these kinds of limits every day. We are limited to the number of years we have on this earth. We are limited in the amount of money we have, even money for worthy, sacrificial causes. We are limited every day by our need to sleep and by the amount of energy we have. We are limited in our capacities and talents. We live lives of limitations.
If I was running the show, I don't think I would have done it that way. If I have purposes for my universe, why would I want to limit the capacity of my little subjects to carry out my purposes? That seems counterproductive. Why limit them from the very things I want to happen in my universe? There's so much work to be done!!!
These are merely theoretical questions, but we face real, tough questions in real, tough situations. We could send more food to an overseas orphanage if we had more money - the nutrition of little kids is on the line! A pastor could serve more needs, do more counseling, prepare better sermons if he didn't have to sleep at night. More people could hear about the claims of Christ if I had better skills at talking with and engaging people - but as it is, they're hearing a substandard rendition of the Gospel. There are real consequences to these limits.
And these limits are put there by God Himself. He designed us to require sleep, He does not permit us to have infinite wealth, He did not give everyone every gift ... or any gift in full measure. He does not permit us to live beyond the century mark, on average. Yes, our our sin and our own lack of diligence contribute to these limits, but there are hard limits put on us by the very hand of God.
Why? We could do so much more of the stuff He likes!
First, we need to reconsider what God wants to accomplish in the universe. We Westerners tend to be task-oriented, and so we foist onto God a task-orientation and assume His goal for the universe is for more of His favorite tasks to be accomplished. It is true that He wants some tasks done. But His greater goal is to develop us into a particular kind of people. And He accomplishes that purpose better with limits than without. What God wants to do in our character, He does more effectively by putting these limits in our lives.
He wants us to be sacrificial (which you don't have to do much if you have no limits). He wants us to offer to Him our prayer-saturated, wisdom-influenced decisions as an act of worship (you don't need to be wise if you have infinite resource). He wants us to choose the best over the good. He wants us to be humble. He wants us to rely on Him. He wants us to have a particular character, and He carves that character with the blade of limitations.
Second, we remember the mind-boggling truth that when Jesus came to earth, He took on Himself a life of limitations. He has existed eternally with all the attributes of God, which means the only real limitations He had were that He could not do anything less than perfect and He could not do anything contrary to His nature. Other than that, He really didn't have any limits. Now, with a full human nature, even a sinless one, He lived within limitations of time, strength and stamina, resources, and the demands of sleep.
Jesus' ministry on earth was performed not only in spite of, but because of those limitations. He died. That's a limitation God had never experienced before. Without that limitation, we are lost in our sin.
Limitations annoy us, frustrate us, and can even draw us into depression. However, limitations are also God's gift to us in order to accomplish His greater purpose. He glorifies Himself through us because we face limitations. It's not a question of having limitations, but what we do with them.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
What if we weren't afraid of death?
I'm meeting weekly with a student who's just about to ship off to college under the illusion that I have all kinds of things to teach him. What happens frequently, though, is that during our discussions, one of us will trip over a question that makes us both look up the ceiling and try to figure out just how significant the question is. This happened yet again this week - two guys inspecting the ceiling as if the answer was written there.
The background of the question is that there are many forms of death. There is physical death (heart stops beating, lungs stop breathing), emotional death (no will to be in relationship or to live life), spiritual death (the state we're born in, plus the eternal fire thing), social death (shame, loss of status, friendless), intellectual death (learning nothing, thinking about nothing meaningful), death of security (in danger, no sense of protection), and even economic death (financial ruin). All forms of death, and we could list still others. Death in these terms is not only the opposite of life, but also separation. We are separated from our friends, from God, from security, and so on.
In Scripture, death is punishment for rebellion against God. He brought all forms of death as punishment in varying degrees. Adam and Eve suffered immediate separation after the Fall, Israel suffered waves of death of all kinds to urge them back to the covenant, on the Cross our Lord suffered death and separation on our behalf, and eternal death will be the ultimate punishment in the eternal state.
In Christ, however, death has been defeated. Not just physical death, but all forms of death have been defeated by the finished work of Jesus on the Cross and His resurrection. "Whoever believes, even he dies, yet he will live." (John 11:25)
Yet, fear of death in all its forms cripples us from loving fully, obeying entirely, taking risks for the Kingdom, sharing our faith, giving generously, and on and on. Fear of death prevents us from fully following Christ.
So, our question was, "What if we weren't afraid of death?" Not just physical death, but all forms of death. What would life be like we we had no fear of these things, because all forms of death have been defeated? If we die, yet we shall live - in every form of life. Can I therefore live life with virtually no fear at all of any form of death?
Imagine what your life would be like...
The background of the question is that there are many forms of death. There is physical death (heart stops beating, lungs stop breathing), emotional death (no will to be in relationship or to live life), spiritual death (the state we're born in, plus the eternal fire thing), social death (shame, loss of status, friendless), intellectual death (learning nothing, thinking about nothing meaningful), death of security (in danger, no sense of protection), and even economic death (financial ruin). All forms of death, and we could list still others. Death in these terms is not only the opposite of life, but also separation. We are separated from our friends, from God, from security, and so on.
In Scripture, death is punishment for rebellion against God. He brought all forms of death as punishment in varying degrees. Adam and Eve suffered immediate separation after the Fall, Israel suffered waves of death of all kinds to urge them back to the covenant, on the Cross our Lord suffered death and separation on our behalf, and eternal death will be the ultimate punishment in the eternal state.
In Christ, however, death has been defeated. Not just physical death, but all forms of death have been defeated by the finished work of Jesus on the Cross and His resurrection. "Whoever believes, even he dies, yet he will live." (John 11:25)
Yet, fear of death in all its forms cripples us from loving fully, obeying entirely, taking risks for the Kingdom, sharing our faith, giving generously, and on and on. Fear of death prevents us from fully following Christ.
So, our question was, "What if we weren't afraid of death?" Not just physical death, but all forms of death. What would life be like we we had no fear of these things, because all forms of death have been defeated? If we die, yet we shall live - in every form of life. Can I therefore live life with virtually no fear at all of any form of death?
Imagine what your life would be like...
Monday, July 15, 2013
The story of Mary
There are too many stories to tell from our trip to Kenya, but there's one I must tell. It is the story of "Mary" (not her real name).
We were invited to visit the home of Mary by her family. Mary was just recovering from malaria, and we were asked to pray for her complete recovery. That sounded simple enough. It was not simple.
The home was modest - not as sparse as many homes we saw, but still humble. The living room was tightly cramped with 10 or so people conversing over lunch, but they did well enough financially to afford a television. Women flitted in and out of the room to bring the handwashing basin, and then the waves of food - rice, ugali, goat stew, chicken, and fish. It was hard to keep track of who was a wife, who was a sister, and who was an in-law. But plenty of smiles and hospitality.
Mary looked to be in her teens, but she's actually in her 20s. She was soft spoken, sometimes too soft to understand. She exuded a sweet spirit (although we later learned that she could have fits of anger). Mary also had some form of speech impediment, which appeared to be related to a slight deformity with her mouth. (I found out in my class later that week that it is common for people in that area to hide those children with deformities. Indeed, people who attended that church for years didn't even know Mary exists.) We were told that she was challenged emotionally and mentally, but it wasn't clear that perhaps her medicines fogged her acuity. The end effect for us was an immediate empathy for a sweet, troubled girl. I was keenly grateful that Janette was sitting nearest to Mary, who directed almost all of her answers toward Janette no matter who asked them.
Pastor Benard, who knew some backstory that we learned only later, proceeded to ask Mary a surprising sequence of questions. Very quickly, he changed from normal questions about her health and recovery to questions about dreams, fears, and how she was treated. Mary was plagued by all three - horrible dreams, persistent fears, and domestic abuse. Those she said were hitting her were present in the room, but it seemed the awkwardness of this was felt only by our team.
In this part of Kenya, there's no place for Mary to go. There are no safe shelters to provide refuge. It would be nearly impossible for her to find reputable work to support herself. It's hard to find a husband in her circumstance, let alone with the dowry and negotiation system for most marriages there. This seemingly sweet girl with extra challenges in life is locked in an abusive situation with no option but to stay.
The Lord gave several of us pertinent passages of Scripture and deep-felt prayer to share with her, and to no little effect. But we were helpless to extract her. We pray for Pastor Benard as he follows up to have wisdom and creative ideas. We pray for her abusers to repent. We pray for her healing. But with only our own devices, we are helpless to "fix" her situation.
Mary is forgotten by the world, except but a handful of people. And now us. And now you.
The Bible consistently teaches (especially in Exodus, Leviticus, Isaiah, and Luke) that God's people advocate for the vulnerable. We too often politicize questions about who should and should not receive help, but the Bible seems to focus on the vulnerable. When the Bible was written, the vulnerable were the likes of the widow, the orphan, the sick, the foreigner, and the desperately poor - those susceptible to oppression and exploitation. It is the task of God's people to lend strength and aid to the vulnerable.
Without much physical ability to help the vulnerable Mary, we turn our efforts to helping Pastor Benard to help Mary. If there is anything he tells us we can do, we will share that with you. For now, we render aid by praying for God to provide that aid and to halt the actions of those who oppress her.
We were invited to visit the home of Mary by her family. Mary was just recovering from malaria, and we were asked to pray for her complete recovery. That sounded simple enough. It was not simple.
The home was modest - not as sparse as many homes we saw, but still humble. The living room was tightly cramped with 10 or so people conversing over lunch, but they did well enough financially to afford a television. Women flitted in and out of the room to bring the handwashing basin, and then the waves of food - rice, ugali, goat stew, chicken, and fish. It was hard to keep track of who was a wife, who was a sister, and who was an in-law. But plenty of smiles and hospitality.
Mary looked to be in her teens, but she's actually in her 20s. She was soft spoken, sometimes too soft to understand. She exuded a sweet spirit (although we later learned that she could have fits of anger). Mary also had some form of speech impediment, which appeared to be related to a slight deformity with her mouth. (I found out in my class later that week that it is common for people in that area to hide those children with deformities. Indeed, people who attended that church for years didn't even know Mary exists.) We were told that she was challenged emotionally and mentally, but it wasn't clear that perhaps her medicines fogged her acuity. The end effect for us was an immediate empathy for a sweet, troubled girl. I was keenly grateful that Janette was sitting nearest to Mary, who directed almost all of her answers toward Janette no matter who asked them.
Pastor Benard, who knew some backstory that we learned only later, proceeded to ask Mary a surprising sequence of questions. Very quickly, he changed from normal questions about her health and recovery to questions about dreams, fears, and how she was treated. Mary was plagued by all three - horrible dreams, persistent fears, and domestic abuse. Those she said were hitting her were present in the room, but it seemed the awkwardness of this was felt only by our team.
In this part of Kenya, there's no place for Mary to go. There are no safe shelters to provide refuge. It would be nearly impossible for her to find reputable work to support herself. It's hard to find a husband in her circumstance, let alone with the dowry and negotiation system for most marriages there. This seemingly sweet girl with extra challenges in life is locked in an abusive situation with no option but to stay.
The Lord gave several of us pertinent passages of Scripture and deep-felt prayer to share with her, and to no little effect. But we were helpless to extract her. We pray for Pastor Benard as he follows up to have wisdom and creative ideas. We pray for her abusers to repent. We pray for her healing. But with only our own devices, we are helpless to "fix" her situation.
Mary is forgotten by the world, except but a handful of people. And now us. And now you.
The Bible consistently teaches (especially in Exodus, Leviticus, Isaiah, and Luke) that God's people advocate for the vulnerable. We too often politicize questions about who should and should not receive help, but the Bible seems to focus on the vulnerable. When the Bible was written, the vulnerable were the likes of the widow, the orphan, the sick, the foreigner, and the desperately poor - those susceptible to oppression and exploitation. It is the task of God's people to lend strength and aid to the vulnerable.
Without much physical ability to help the vulnerable Mary, we turn our efforts to helping Pastor Benard to help Mary. If there is anything he tells us we can do, we will share that with you. For now, we render aid by praying for God to provide that aid and to halt the actions of those who oppress her.
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