Month: March 2016

Good Friday, Bad Christian

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Can I confess something to you? I want to be brutally honest here. I’m a Christian, but Good Friday feels like just another day to me. The only “good” I see in it comes from its inauguration of the weekend. Don’t get me wrong – I’ll try to reflect some today on what Good Friday truly represents, but if the past is any indicator, my reflection will be minimal and the day will end with me unchanged and unmoved. Good Friday, bad Christian.

This shouldn’t be, though.

If you can relate, I hope this brief post will encourage us both to really drink in the goodness of Good Friday. Speaking of drinking, isn’t that what Good Friday is all about? Not the drinking we would normally think about, of course, but a different kind of drinking.

Let me explain.

A Cup for Us All

Think back for a second to the night preceding the crucifixion. Most of you are familiar with the story of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. That scene is famous for many reasons, but we primarily associate it with the night that Jesus sweat drops of blood. Do you remember what caused Him to sweat drops of blood, though? Do you remember what He prayed when He asked His Father for another way?

Facing the imminence of His death on the cross, Jesus became sorrowful to the point of death, sweating drops of blood, and His words were, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” The picture in this scene is almost startling to the Christian mind. What could cause Jesus – King of kings and Lord of lords – so much sorrow and troubling that He would act this way? That He would not only sweat drops of blood, but that He would look at the cup He was about to drink and ask God to remove it from Him? Exactly what was in that cup?

Psalm 75:8 gives us a hint, as it tells us, “For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed, and he pours out from it, and all the wicked from the earth shall drain it down to the dregs.” Jeremiah 25:15 refers to the same cup as the “cup of the wine of wrath.” So we see that there’s a cup filled with God’s wrath and it’s intended for the wicked, for the sinner. But Jesus was without sin, right? He was the furthest thing from wicked. Was God’s wrath really what Jesus saw when He looked at the cup that night in the garden?

Jesus Drank Our Cup

We know the answer to that question, for this is why we celebrate Good Friday. God’s wrath is exactly what Jesus saw, and it’s exactly what He drank on the cross the next day. This is why it should never be the case that Good Friday pass by with our hearts unmoved and unchanged. You see, placed before each and everyone of us is a very real, very horrible cup. It’s a cup that’s filled to the brim with God’s wrath, a wrath we all deserve, and there’s not one single thing we can do to get rid of the cup. Its contents must be drank.

But thanks be to God that Jesus drank the cup for us. Not only did he drink it, but he drained it down to the dregs, consuming every last drop, so that not one single drop remains for those who believe. And placed before us instead will be a very different cup, a cup filled to the brim with everlasting life.

Good Friday, indeed. Even the drops owing to my failure as a Christian today were consumed.

I pray this beautiful truth affect us deeply this Good Friday. May we together take a moment to reflect on, and be thankful for what Jesus did for us on the cross, for the exchange that He made for us – our cup of wrath for His cup of life and joy. May we drink deeply from His cup today and truly thirst no more.

Give Me More

Photo courtesy of StockSnap.io

I struggle at moderation. It’s hard for me to admit, but it’s true. I like to tell myself otherwise, that I’m stronger than I am, but I’m not. I have an addictive personality and once I find something I enjoy, I tend to enjoy it in excess.

Chocolate chip cookies are my latest obsession. I’m not the biggest fan of sweets (you have my permission to judge accordingly), but put a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of me and self-control is thrown out the window. The same goes for pizza. I’m a sucker for good pizza. I may try to watch what I eat and moderate my portions on any other day, but give me a good pizza and the deal is off. Give me more!

My struggles with moderation are not limited to food and drink, though. It’s just the easiest to identify. Unfortunately, it’s much more pronounced than that, and like a dirty diaper in a small room, it permeates all of my life. Received some good feedback and approval from my peers? Give me more. Got a raise at work and increased my monthly pay? Give me more. Got a promotion which gives me added responsibility and power? Give me more.

No matter the subject, the pattern is the same. I’m constantly chasing the next thing, constantly searching for the next level. And once I attain it, I hardly soak in the enjoyment before I’m on to the next thing. I want more.

Our generation knows a thing or two about this. Ours is the generation which has technology at our fingertips, and with it an endless supply of entertainment and information. Instant gratification is our birthright. Want to watch a pointless video because you need some laughs? Pull up YouTube. Want to know how to do something? Google it. Want to dress up your home with something cute and trendy? Check out Pinterest.

Netflix is probably the biggest culprit here. It’s a lazy Saturday morning, and we have nothing better to do, so we queue up an episode of some hyped show on Netflix. Five hours later we’re telling Netflix for the fourth time that yes, we are in fact still watching, and please stop judging. We can hardly peel ourselves away from the TV. One or two episodes, while entertaining and satisfactory, isn’t enough. We need more.

 

It’s Okay to Desire

Our binge watching obsession is a great picture of our entire lives, really. One is never enough. We want something, and so we chase it. Once we attain it, then it’s on to the next one. Cookies, pizza, Netflix? Oh yes. Money, comfort, approval? Absolutely. For all of the above, we’ll take more, please!

Does this mean there’s something wrong with us? Have we become robots, programmed to forever repeat this unending pattern – desire, chase, obtain, repeat? Is this unquenchable desire within us born from sin and unbelief?

No, I don’t think so. As a matter of fact, it’s this desire, this drive for more which makes us normal. It’s so natural to who we are as human beings, because embedded deep within the very fabric of our being is this unending desire for joy and satisfaction. We were created to desire; we were created to yearn.

And then God blessed His creation with good things, things which were intended for our enjoyment. He didn’t create them to cruelly tempt and tease us. He’s not a mean parent who woke up one morning and decided to cook some bacon just to toy with his kids.

Can you imagine?

There you are, sleeping in one Saturday morning, when all of a sudden that unmistakable aroma, the smell of bacon in all of its greasy, fatty goodness, hits you and immediately cancels your plans to sleep any later. You get up, slide into your house slippers, and make a b-line for the kitchen, where you find your dad tending to that delectable breakfast item. You sit down at the table, and your dad walks over with a plate so full of bacon you can hardly count all the pieces. He sits it right there in front of you, and just when you reach forward to grab one, two, three pieces, he knocks your hand away.

Sorry, kid, not today. This bacon isn’t meant to be eaten. You are simply to sit there and smell it. Desire it, but don’t eat it.

No, God did not create this world in that manner. We are surrounded by good things, blessings to be had (bacon to be eaten, if you will), all of which God meant for our enjoyment. My problem, as I’ve said, is moderation. I can’t simply enjoy one. I need one more cookie, one more slice of pizza, one more episode of Fuller House. I need one more promotion, one more raise, one more like on Instagram. Just give me more.

 

We’ve Missed the Point of Our Desires and God’s Blessings

Our struggles with moderation are really indicative of a bigger problem, though. The fact that we continually want more reveals that we’re missing the whole point of all these good things to begin with. We’re missing the point of our desires, and we’re missing the point of God’s gracious blessings in our lives.

These blessings were never meant to be the end game. They weren’t created for our enjoyment, alone. That was never their sole purpose. Yes, God intends them for our enjoyment, but His intention is more profound than that.

Every good thing in this world is ultimately meant to point us to the Source of that good. The creation points to its Creator. The good things of this life are good because of Who they come from. The problem, therefore, isn’t that we derive joy and satisfaction from God’s creation. The problem is that we keep stopping short. We’re a people full of desires living in a world full of good things. We run from good thing to good thing, consuming blessing after blessing, only to realize we’re still hungry and then it’s on to the next one.

We never stop to realize that these blessings are only crumbs, which were never meant to satisfy our hunger in full. We’re all wondering, lost in the wilderness of this world, and the Bread of Life has left a trail of crumbs to lead us back to Himself. The crumbs are delicious, and we’re meant to enjoy them, but we shouldn’t stop there. We shouldn’t go from crumb to crumb, stockpiling a basket full of them as if they will satisfy forever. At some point in our lives, we need to taste the goodness of the crumb and look up. The trail isn’t a banquet. It’s leading us to the banquet.

It’s only when we realize this that we’ll be able to enjoy God’s good blessings in a manner that honors him. I will always struggle with moderation if I chase the good things of this world as a means to an end. But when I see God’s blessings as good things which pale in comparison to their ultimate Source – when I see the crumbs as that which was meant ultimately to point me to the true Bread of Life – then, and only then, can I rightly say, give me More, give me More!

Run to Jesus

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Life is hard. It’s almost cliché to say it, but it’s true. School didn’t prepare me for just how hard life would be. Adults told me it was hard, but I simply assumed their life was the exception to the norm. Normal life was supposed to be easy if you tried hard enough, made good decisions, and did your best to treat people right.

Maybe life was hard for people because they didn’t go to church. By God’s good grace, I go to church, I read my bible, I pray, etc. But guess what? Life is still hard. Really hard, actually. Harder than I ever could’ve imagined. What a fool I was to assume my life would be smooth and easy because I’m a Christian. Jesus didn’t promise a smooth, comfortable life. Instead, He promised capital L, Life, and fullness of joy – but He didn’t promise one without suffering.

And thank God for that.

 

I Love-Hate Running

I started running nine months ago, and it’s now become one of my favorite hobbies. Not only has it allowed me to burn a little excess fat, which was quickly blossoming as my metabolism has slowed, but it has also taught me a thing or two about perseverance amidst pain and suffering. This past year has been, without question, the hardest year of my entire life. So perhaps it’s no coincidence that I started running this year and have gleaned the lessons it’s provided.

The truth is, even though I’ve now run consistently for nine months, I still have a love-hate relationship with running. Most days I look forward to it – crave it, even. But, some days it takes everything in me to work up the motivation to lace up my running shoes and hit the pavement. And then when I do, every step feels like a chore – an unceasing, breathtaking, pain-inducing burden that makes me regret my resolve and floods my mind with the temptation to quit.

I love running. But, sometimes I hate it.

 

I Hate-Love Suffering

I now view suffering in life very similarly to running, though in reverse. I’m developing a hate-love relationship with it. Most days I dread it. The pain, the confusion, the anger – I just want it all to go away. I want the sun to rise and shed light in the corners of my heart where I’ve been cultivating darkness. I want God to speak again and utterly extinguish the confusion and doubt that’s clouded my judgment and shaken my faith. But, I love what the pain is producing in me. Sometimes the progress is difficult to see, impossible to measure. And though it rarely feels worth the trouble, I know it’s in my best interest, as God is refining me through it and pointing me toward Jesus.

I hate suffering. But, sometimes I love it.

 

Our Thoughts Matter

The most important lesson running teaches me about pain and suffering is that my thoughts matter. Running isn’t just physical. If I want to persevere through the pain of running and stretch myself to run faster and farther, then mental toughness matters, and more especially the object of my thoughts as I’m running matters.

There are days when I run a route that’s no different from the one I ran the day before. Instead, the route is one I’ve run consistently for months, and so you would think I would be used to it by now. And some days I am. Some days I run that route and feel it nearly too easy, only the slightest of a challenge. But, the very next day that exact same route, even at the same pace, feels as though it will drain every ounce of life and joy out of my body.

I’ve learned that the difference in the two runs boils down to what I was focused on during those runs. For the overly challenging run, I couldn’t take my mind off the pain. Every step was a reminder of my discomfort, the ache in my legs and shortness of breath, and all I could think about was pain and wanting the run to be over.

On the other hand, when I’m able to focus on the beautiful scenery around me – the view over a hilltop, blooming Spring flowers, a group of deer feeding in a yard – the run feels less painful and even goes by more quickly. It’s not that the pain is absent, though. It’s just that something more appealing has laid hold of my attention, and I end up running toward that.

This has been an important lesson for me to learn. When things get hard, and we enter into seasons of pain and suffering in our lives, our thought process – what our minds are focused on during that pain – matters immensely. Unfortunately, though, we tend to focus only on what’s immediately in front of us, which is pain and heartache.

And, when we dwell on the extremity of our pain and how much we long for the season of suffering to end, it actually makes the season feel longer. Harder. Worse than that, focusing on the pain can cause us to question and doubt God, to accuse Him of wrongdoing. I believe God gives us the freedom to be angry and confused in our suffering, but we cross the line when we actually accuse Him of injustice. And for me at least, focusing on my pain has caused me to do this.

In running, though, when something more appealing, something more desirable than the pain grabs hold of my attention, the pain itself fades to the back of my mind and I’m able to more easily persevere and finish the run. Not just finish it, I’m able to actually enjoy the run, despite the pain. In those moments, I’m running for something more, I’m running for something bigger than the pain I feel.

In seasons of suffering, pain appears to be the only thing before us, but it’s not. There’s actually something – or rather, Someone – before us who’s far more appealing, far more attention-holding than our pain. Standing before us, is a gracious and loving God, arms wide open, ready to embrace. Before us, is everlasting Life, purchased for us by the pain and suffering of Jesus – a suffering He is said to have endured for the joy that was set before Him.

He is our great example.

He’s not just our example, though. He showed us how to endure pain for a greater joy, but more than that He is, Himself, the very joy set before us. He is the only One who could ever be worthy enough, beautiful enough, desirable enough to grab our attention away from the pain, so that we would persevere.

And so, this is my prayer now, that when I run life’s race and the pain feels as though it will end me – when the pain is all I can dwell on – I pray Jesus would be the true object of my affections. May He be greater in my mind, the very Joy set before me, so that when I run, I run to Jesus.