Thursday, January 26, 2012

Slaves


Slaves
So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. And because you belong to him, the power of the life-giving Spirit has freed you from the power of sin that leads to death. The law of Moses was unable to save us because of the weakness of our sinful nature. So God did what the law could not do. He sent his own Son in a body like the bodies we sinners have. And in that body God declared an end to sin’s control over us by giving his Son as a sacrifice for our sins. He did this so that the just requirement of the law would be fully satisfied for us, who no longer follow our sinful nature but instead follow the Spirit. (Romans 8:1-4)

One summer, eight year old Tommy was visiting his grandparents’ home in the country where he loved to roam the woods with his trusty slingshot in hand. He’d aim at trees and bottles and cans, but he didn’t hit much because he was still working on his accuracy.
One day, as he was returning from the woods, he heard grandma ringing the dinner bell. As Tommy was walking toward the house, he spotted his grandma’s pet duck waddling by the pond. Now, he never dreamed in a million years that he could hit the duck, but just for fun he pulled the slingshot back and let it fly. As luck would have it, the rock hit the duck square in the head. The duck dropped dead without even one last “Quack.” Tommy was shocked; he’d never hit anything he aimed at before, and now he felt terrible.
In a panic, he ran toward the dead duck, picked it up and carried it behind the barn where he buried it in the woodpile. As Tommy was headed toward the house, feeling horribly about what had just happened, he spotted his 13 year old sister, Cindy, and realized to his horror that she’d seen the whole, sordid affair.
Later on that night, after dinner, grandma said, “Cindy, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay and help me do the dishes.” “Grandma,” she replied, “I’d love to, but Tommy said he wants to do the dishes tonight.” And as she walked out of the kitchen past Tommy, she whispered in his ear, “Remember the duck.” Trapped, Tommy went over and did the dishes.
The next morning, grandpa invited Tommy and Cindy to go fishing with him. But grandma had another plan. “I really need Cindy to stay here and help me with some chores,” grandma said. Cindy replied, “Grandma, Tommy said he’d like to stay with you and help you out today.” Once again, Tommy’s sister walked by and muttered, “Remember the duck.” So, Tommy did the chores and Cindy went fishing.
After a couple days of hard labor doing both Cindy’s chores and his own, Tommy had had enough. He fessed up. “Grandmother, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I killed your duck.” His kindly grandmother gave him a big hug and said, “Thomas, I know what happened; I was standing at the window watching the whole thing take place. I saw how shocked you were, and I’ve already forgiven you. I’ve just been waiting to see how long you’d let Cindy make a slave out of you.”
Like the grandmother, God stands at the window and sees our every mistake, our every failure. The good news is that, as believers, God’s forgiven us. He’s not holding anything against us. He’s just waiting to see how long we’ll allow the Accuser to make a slave out of us. Our text says, “There is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus … who no longer follow our sinful nature but instead follow the Spirit.” Those last three words are key because when we make mistakes, if we’re in the flesh, we beat ourselves up. We feel guilty and unworthy. We live depressed and defeated. Choosing that response will only take us down a dead end street.
Unfortunately, too many of us go around constantly feeling badly about ourselves. When we make mistakes, instead of receiving God’s mercy and moving ahead, we listen to the voice of the Accuser: the voice that constantly rails at us about our mistakes, our blown diets, our temper-tantrums and our shortcomings. And after awhile, we become weighted down with guilt and self-condemnation. Guilt’s like a treadmill: we’re constantly working, and struggling, and sweating, but never making any progress. The burden of guilt drains our strength, drains our energy, and drains our enthusiasm. And guilt can not only affect us emotionally, but even physically. Ever known anyone who’s suffered a nervous breakdown because of guilt?
We’ve all made mistakes and done things we’re not proud of, but the moment we ask for forgiveness, God forgives us. The scripture says, “God remembers your sins no more.” (Isaiah 43:25) So, if God doesn’t remember our sins, then that accusing voice can’t be God’s voice. That’s the Accuser’s voice. And we have two choices. We can either believe the lies, dwell on them and allow guilt to weigh us down. Or, we can rise up in faith and say, “No thanks, I’m not goin’ there. If God doesn’t condemn me, then I’m not going to condemn myself.”
You see, there’s a big difference between God’s voice and the Accuser’s voice. When we make mistakes, as believers, we feel a conviction on the inside. Our conscience tells us, “That’s not right.” That’s the Spirit of God convicting us. And the right thing for us to do is to repent, ask for forgiveness and move ahead. The moment we do that, God doesn’t remember our mistakes. He has no record them. Our mistakes aren’t kept on some secret data base somewhere. Unfortunately, no sooner has God let them go than the Accuser starts going to work on us. Even though God has forgotten about them, the Accuser tries to keep us feeling badly about ourselves and the mistakes we’ve made. He reminds us of everything we’ve done wrong, and tries to force us to give up and sit on the sidelines. The Accuser’s goal is to deceive us into constantly living condemned; to make us feel inferior and unworthy of God’s blessings.
But we need to discern just who’s doing the speaking, because the accusing voice is not God’s voice. That’s the Accuser trying to dump another load of guilt on us; trying to keep us feeling bad. But we don’t have to listen to his lies. We need to believe what God says about us: that we’re forgiven; we’re redeemed; our past has been erased and our future, in relationship with God, is bright. By refusing to dwell on those lies, we can silence the voice of the Accuser.
Jesus said, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (John 8:32) And the truth is that the price for our mistakes was paid over 2000 years ago. We don’t have to pay for them again. We’ve been redeemed; God’s mercy is bigger than any of our mistakes. And although we can’t do anything about our past, we can do something about our future.
One way we can know that guilt and condemnation are not from God is that they don’t help us to be conformed into God’s image. They don’t help us to do better. When we go around feeling badly about ourselves, we’re much more likely to make even more mistakes. Oh, we should spend some time thinking about where we’ve gone wrong – so that we can learn from those mistakes. But the correct way to handle the guilt that comes from making mistakes is to repent, ask for forgiveness and move forward. The wrong way is to hold onto the guilt for a week, a year or even a lifetime. You know, there’s just some things we simply cannot “undo.” For instance, we can’t “unscramble” eggs. We can’t re-live yesterday. But we can live today.
Have you ever noticed how human nature is drawn toward the negative? We could have ten people tell us that we look fabulous today. But if one person said, “You know, you’re looking a little pale today. Are you feeling alright?” We’d probably go home feeling as if we were sick after all. But we can’t allow the 10 compliments to be cancelled out by the one negative remark. We can’t let one weakness, one mistake cancel out all the other great things God’s created us to be.
We may have made a lot of wrong choices, but we’ve also made some right choices. We need to focus on our good qualities; focus on our victories; get off the treadmill of guilt because it’s not taking us anywhere. Guilt steals our joy, and we don’t need to live another moment in regret. Honestly, the source of our guilt may, in fact, be our fault, but that’s what mercy’s all about. We need to rise up and say, “This is a new day. I’m unloading the baggage. I’m done feeling wrong about myself. I’m done living condemned. I’ve focused long enough on what I’ve done wrong. I’m gonna start focusing on what I’m doing right.”
It’s very difficult for most people to accept the fact that God forgives us so easily and so quickly. Instead, when we make mistakes, we think we have to pay for them. As a result, we grow discouraged and get down on ourselves. Sure, we ought to be remorseful when we’ve done wrong. We should be genuinely sorry for our sins, and not be dismissive. But we don’t have to spend month after month wallowing around in guilt and condemnation. I know plenty of people, and you probably do to, who made mistakes years ago and they’re still asking God for forgiveness. They’ve probably asked God to forgive them at least a thousand times. But what they don’t realize is that God forgave them the first time they asked.
The real problem, I think, is that we’ve not accepted the gift of God’s forgiveness. We think we have to show God how sorry we are by giving up our joy and paying some sort of penance. We live defeated and discouraged. We beg God, “Please forgive me. God, I’m so sorry. God.……” But don’t be a beggar; be a believer. Believe that God forgave you the first time you asked. You don’t have to keep asking, and asking, and asking again.
It’s like the story of the prodigal son. (Luke 15:11-32) In the story, a young man takes his inheritance, leaves home and makes some poor choices by living a wild, undisciplined, partying lifestyle. He blows his entire inheritance; all of it. Finally, he has no money and no place to stay. So, he ends up working on a farm, feeding hogs. (No respectable place for a young Jewish man) And he’s so desperate, so hungry that he resorts to eating the animal’s food just to stay alive.
 But one day as he was sitting in the hog pen, guilty, condemned, ashamed, and depressed, something rose up on the inside and he thought to himself, “Even my father’s servants live better than this. And here I am sitting in this hog pen, wallowing around in filth and defeat.” And then he makes a statement that changed his future. He says, “I will arise and go to my father.” In other words, he was saying, “Yes, I’ve made mistakes; yes, I brought all this trouble upon myself. But I won’t allow one bad season of my life to ruin my future. I will arise.”
And maybe we’ve made some poor choices in life, too. Maybe we’re not where we want to be in life. And the accusing voice keeps telling us, “It’s your fault; you’re too bad; you brought this on yourself; you’ve gotten what you deserve.” But if we’re to be restored, it’s not up to God – he already provided the payment for our sins a long time ago. It’s really up to us. We need to do like the young man and say, “I may be down, but I’m not staying down. I may have made mistakes, and it’s my fault. But I know the secret: I will arise and go to my father.”
I believe one reason the young man could arise was because, deep down inside, he knew who he was. He knew the family to whom he belonged. And when we understand our own position, we can change our condition. We are children of the Most High God. He breathed his life into us. We were never created to live depressed, defeated, guilty, condemned, ashamed and unworthy. We were created to love God with all our heart, with all our soul and with all our mind, and then to love our neighbor as ourselves. (Matt. 22:36-40)  
We may be down because of poor choices and mistakes we’ve made. We may feel as if we don’t deserve God’s mercy and grace. We may not feel worthy. But we have to shake that off and know our position. Know whose we are (children of Almighty God), and not who we are. We need to remember that because of what Christ did on the cross, he made us worthy. He took our guilt so that we can be free. We need to arise and go to our father. That’s what the young man did. And when the father saw him coming, way down the road, the father took off running toward him. He gave his son a big hug, put a ring on his finger, a robe on his back and sandals on his feet. He said to his servants, “Let’s celebrate! My son has come back home.”
God will do the same thing for us when we make the decision to shake off the guilt, shake off the condemnation and say, “I’m moving forward with my life.” When we make a move, God will make a move. He’ll come running toward us with mercy, forgiveness, restoration and favor. God can still get us to where we’re supposed to be. But so often, when we make mistakes, the accusing voice tells us, “You can’t ask God for help. It was your fault in the first place, you hypocrite! You brought this trouble all on yourself. He’ll never listen to you. Why would he?” But that’s where mercy comes in. When we do wrong, we ask for forgiveness and God forgives us. And then, when we really understand who we are, we won’t just ask for forgiveness. We’ll take it one step further and receive God’s mercy.
Now that’s freedom.
Grace,
Randy

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Unbelief


“If ?”
“How long has this been happening?” Jesus asked the boy’s father.
He replied, “Since he was a little boy. The spirit often throws him into the fire or into water, trying to kill him. Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.”
“What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes.”
The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”
(Mark 9:21-24)

OK. Imagine you had this killer ministry going on where you were healing hospitals full of sick people every day; casting out demons right and left. Then, one day, a dad brings his son to you and right there in front of your very eyes the boy has a seizure! So, you do what you’ve always done: you whip off your jacket to expose the “S” on your T-shirt, and you say what you’ve been saying, and you pray like you’ve been praying and ….. nothing. So, you clear your throat, “Ahem,” and you say what you’ve been saying, but just a little louder, and you pray what you’ve been praying, but just a little harder and …. crickets chirping. The boy’s convulsing, the dad has this deer-caught-in-the-headlights kind of look on his face, and you? Kryptonite.
So, what do you do? Do you just figure that the boy must have had some sort of unconfessed sin in his life and that’s what’s causing the disconnect? But if that’s so, that’d be like saying that sin can stop the power of God, which you know’s not true. I mean, if that were true, no one could be saved. Right? Or, do you declare the boy’s been healed, even though he’s still writhing on the ground? Try that and the father’d think you were nuts. How ‘bout simply being puzzled? Now there’s an honest reaction. And that would be the same reaction the disciples had when they were confronted with this very same situation.
But the story’s kind of a mystery, don’t you think? I mean, we really wish we knew more about the circumstances. Like, where’s the mom? Or, was he a single dad? And how old’s the boy? Is he a toddler, a teenager, or a young adult? And where’s the medical records and chart on this case? I mean, is there a doctor in the house? Don’t we have at least something to go on in terms of a possible diagnosis? Maybe we should just call House because he always seems to figure this stuff out in sixty minutes’ time on TV. But really, there’s so little information about this incident that we just want to make stuff up to fill in the gaps of our imagination.
But the story is pretty simple, really. A man brings his demon-possessed son to Jesus’ disciples to be healed. They can’t, so the boy is brought to Jesus while a crowd gathers, at which time the boy convulses and the crowd collectively gasps. When asked, the dad tells Jesus that this has been going on for a long time, and that the boy’s almost been burned alive or drowned to death more times than he can count. And then he says to Jesus, “Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.” (Pause) And then Jesus, with those olive-brown eyes, stares at the dad and the dad is thinking to himself, “Uh oh. This can’t be good. I’d better duck.” “What do you mean 'If,' Kimosabe?”
I think there are at least two points to be noticed in this story. The first is that Jesus was helping the dad to understand that the issue was not with Jesus’ power, but with the man’s faith. Obviously, the man had some faith in Jesus or he wouldn’t have bothered to bring the boy in the first place. Or, maybe he was just desperate and willing to try anything. But, for whatever reason, his trust wasn’t at the level it needed to be. He still had some doubts. Maybe he was growing in his faith; but the fact is, he was struggling. Ever been there before? Yeah, me too.
Second, Jesus’ affirmation that “Anything is possible if a person believes” is limited to the context of the circumstances in which the statement was made. The Lord wasn’t saying that anyone can do anything if they only believe. That’d be like saying you can spread your arms and fly off the Golden Gate Bridge like an eagle. But regardless of what you believe, you’ll drop like a bag of cement into the frigid San Francisco bay and maybe, if you’re lucky, live to tell about it.
In response to Jesus’ challenge – “If?” – the father cries out with the sort of agony that only a parent could know, “I do believe; but help me overcome my unbelief!” What a strange statement. Isn’t that kind of a contradiction? I mean, isn’t it? Well, maybe. But Jesus, rather than condemning the man for a faith overwhelmed by doubt, immediately rebuked the unclean spirit and commanded it to leave the boy—never to enter him again. In fact, the exorcism was so complete that the crowd thought the boy was a goner.
The spiritual confusion of this father, however, is so typical of the intellectual and emotional turmoil that can plague any one of us at any given time. Let’s face it: no one has a “red-hot” faith ‘round the clock. For instance, we know there’s a God who made us because the evidence is so overwhelming that only a fool could deny it. (Psalm 14:1; Rom. 1:20-23) And, intellectually, we know that God cares for us because the giving of his Son as a sacrifice for our sins is ample evidence of that, too.
But sometimes we hurt so badly, physically, spiritually and/or emotionally, that our hearts overpower our heads. Agony pushes all logic aside and we begin to “think” with our feelings. Oh, we still believe and all, but we’re angry because we feel neglected. We can’t understand why God doesn’t rush to our beck and call. So, we pout and refuse to talk to him. And then we think we’ll punish God further by refusing to go to church. We may even say harsh things to him, almost literally shaking our fist in his face. Not you? Well, I’ve been there.
It’s at times like these that we need to get a grip. We need to cry out, “Lord, help me overcome my unbelief!” We need to ask for his patience. We need to weep. We need to analyze our situation and consider whether we’ve contributed to our own problems. But what we absolutely must not do, however, is to give in to our frustration. Because once we quit struggling with our faith, and then let it slide, we’re headed down a slippery slope that could lead to eternal ruin.
I think we tend to think of faith and unbelief as opposite ends of the same rope. But, according to Jesus, it’s possible to believe and doubt all at the same time. Really? Yes, really. Consider this: “I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but you can also say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done.” (Matt. 21:21)
You see, what the father was saying is that he had faith, but he also had unbelief. And his unbelief had paralyzed his faith. It’s kind of like having two teams of horses hooked up to the same wagon and pulling in different directions. One team negates the other and you get nowhere other than to “Frustrationville.”
So, after identifying the problem, i.e., unbelief, Jesus later assured the disciples that their faith was not the issue. In fact, even if their faith was the size of a little mustard seed, it was sufficient to move mountains. The real obstacle was their unbelief. Later in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus even called them an “unbelieving and perverse generation.” (vs. 17:17) It’s like Jesus was saying, “You had faith, but it was undermined by your unbelief.”
Now, some translations interpret “unbelief” as “little faith.” For instance, Jesus’ answer in Matthew 17:20 begins, “Because of your little faith” – at least in some translations. But this, in my opinion, is a poor translation that makes Jesus sound like he’s contradicting Himself. The Greek word for unbelief (apistia), as used in Matthew 17:20, is the same word used by the boy’s father when he says, “Help me overcome my unbelief.” So, although some translators equate unbelief with little faith, Jesus – it would appear – is saying that little faith is not the issue. I mean, if a little faith can move a mountain, it can surely heal a demon-possessed boy.
So, it’s not the size of your faith that matters so much as whether your faith is handicapped by doubt and unbelief. It’s kind of like driving a car with the emergency brake on; oh, you can still drive the car alright, but you’ll get pretty crummy gas mileage and, eventually, ruin the emergency brake. Pure, childlike faith, untainted by grown-up unbelief, on the other hand, is what moves mountains. Pure faith is a strong faith.
So, what kind of unbelief undid the father and Jesus’ disciples? I don’t know for sure, but maybe they were unnerved by the sight of a convulsing child, frothing at the mouth. Any seizure is frightening, especially in a child, but it would have been especially terrifying knowing that there was a demon behind it. Unfortunately, natural unbelief is fueled by what we see and hear. And when it comes to medical issues, in particular, our unbelief sends us to Google looking for reassurance and hope – even if we have faith. Oh, we may be declaring the promises of God over our situation, but we’re also feeding our doubts by heeding our circumstances.
So, how do you deal with unbelief?
You starve it. (Mark 9:29)
You see, unbelief that arises from ignorance and bad theology can be corrected by showing people the truth. (Mark 6:6) But overcoming natural unbelief requires prayer and fasting. Your body needs to learn that it’s not in charge, and by fasting for a time you’re telling your five senses that there’s more to life than just bread. (Matt. 4:4) And the thing is, prayer and fasting doesn’t necessarily move God to action, and it certainly doesn’t move the devil. But fasting and prayer moves you. It affects you. So, instead of trying to build a bigger and bigger faith, maybe we need to stop feeding our unbelief. In other words, we need to fix the right problem.
 You know, when there’s a problem, a strategy that Satan sometimes uses is to divert our attention onto “fixing” the thing that’s not broken. That way, we’re doubly messed up: we’ve “fixed” the part that’s not broken, and not fixed the part that needs fixing. (That is, if we can “fix” anything in the first place, but that’s for another lesson) But if Christ lives in you, there’s nothing wrong with your faith. You might have a problem with unbelief, but your faith is not the issue. It’s unbelief that limits the power of God in your life.
Today, there’s a lot of emphasis on faith, and the getting more of it. So, like the disciples, we pray, “Lord, increase my faith.” (Luke 17:5) But Jesus’ response to that request was, “Your faith is not the problem – even a little faith will get the job done.” (Luke 17:6, my paraphrase). OK. But then why is our faith not the problem?
Because it’s His faith, not ours.
Paul said that he was justified by the faith of Jesus Christ and lived by the faith of the Son of God. (Gal. 2:16, 20) He understood that faith was a gift from God. (Eph. 2:8) And that’s why when Peter healed the crippled man outside the temple to the crowd’s utter astonishment, he gave all the credit to a faith that had come from God. (Acts 3:16) Unfortunately, too many times we think there’s something wrong with our faith, but that’s like saying God gives defective gifts.
He doesn’t.
So stop worrying so much about your faith – if you’re a believer, you already have enough faith to move your mountain. But maybe it’s unbelief that’s the problem and, if so, a little prayer and fasting is just what the Doctor ordered, and then be sure to schedule an appointment to see him next week for a follow-up.
Grace,
Randy

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Gospel in a Nutshell


3:16
For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Denver Broncos star, Tim Tebow, once touted “John 3:16” on his eye-black during his days as a Florida Gator, but the scripture gained a lot more attention after the quarterback’s 316 passing yards (yes, that’s right: “316”) helped Denver clinch a nail-biting, overtime victory against the Pittsburgh Steelers last Sunday. Allegedly, after Tebow etched the scripture in his eye-black for the 2009 BCS Championship Game, about 92 million people conducted a web search for the term. But the verse has previously made appearances at sporting events, most notably on Rollen Stewart’s T-shirts and banners during the 1980’s. He was the guy, if you’ll recall, that wore a rainbow wig and displayed signs at games and major events, such as the Olympics and the World Cup. Yeah, that guy. (Rollen’s now serving three (3) consecutive life sentences in prison on kidnapping charges) But I digress because I’m not exactly a Broncos fan.

It really all began with a figure moving silently through the darkened streets of Jerusalem. Nicodemus was one of “them” – a Pharisee; one of the religious elite who militantly rejected Jesus as Messiah. So, when he decided to seek Jesus out and learn from him, he had to do it secretly. Slipping through alleyways and dimly lit streets, Nicodemus found his way to a simple house where Jesus and his followers were staying.

“Rabbi,” he said, “we all know that God has sent you to teach us. Your miraculous signs are evidence that God is with you.” (John 3:2) And without skipping a beat, Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, unless you are born again, you cannot see the Kingdom of God.” (John 3:3) Now, I’m not exactly sure what was on Nicodemus’ mind that night, but it’s clear what was on Jesus’: his climactic exposition on salvation. And in one verse, the whole of the Gospel is presented.

It starts simply enough: “For God so loved the world.…” And if those words are true, it changes everything, doesn’t it? I mean, imagine what the world would be like without God’s love. It’d simply be a dark planet hurtling through space with no hope and no future. Every death would be an end, and every grave a place of despair. But God does love the world. We see it in every sunrise, in every blade of grass, in every birth, and in every child’s face.

Have you ever seen those cartoons, Veggie Tales? They’re computer animated vegetables that tell Bible stories. It’s kind of like Sunday school packaged into a Saturday morning kid’s show. And at the end of every episode, Bob (he’s the tomato) says, “Remember kids, God made you special, and he loves you very much!” Corny, I know.

But isn’t that the message of John 3:16? Isn’t that the message the world needs to hear? That God made you special and that he loves you very much. That’s the message George Matheson needed to hear.

He was only fifteen when he was told that he was losing what little eyesight he had at the time. Not to be deterred, however, George continued with his plans to enroll at the University of Glasgow, and his determination led to his graduation in 1861 at the tender age of nineteen. And by the time he’d finished his graduate studies, he was completely blind. But his spirit never collapsed, that is until his fiancée returned his engagement ring. She said she couldn’t see herself spending her life bound by the chains of marriage to a blind man. (Harsh) Eventually, he adapted to life without sight, but he never recovered from his broken heart.

Years later, as a well-loved pastor in Scotland, George’s sister came to him announcing her engagement. He was happy for her, but his mind went back to his own heartache. But he consoled himself by thinking of God’s unlimited love. Never conditional. Never withdrawn. Never uncertain. And out of this experience he penned these words: “O love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee; I give thee back the life I owe, that in thine ocean depths its flow may richer, fuller be.” Wow, what a hymn.

In Prayer: A Heavenly Invitation, Max Lucado writes, “If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If he had a wallet, your photo would be in it. He sends you flowers every spring, and a sunrise every morning. Whenever you want to talk, he’ll listen. He can live anywhere in the universe, and he chose your heart. What about the Christmas gift he sent you in Bethlehem; not to mention that Friday at Calvary? Face it, friend. He’s crazy about you.”

He loves. And because he loves, he gives. Again, Jesus said, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son….” Just to say, “I love you,” doesn’t really mean a whole lot sometimes, does it? Love – real agape love – is a verb; an action word. It has to be tangibly demonstrated. It has to be proven – God’s love included. “But God proves His own love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us!” (Romans 5:8)

I know. That sounds strange to some people. There are plenty of people who respect the teachings of Jesus. They admire his example. But no matter how they turn it, they can’t see any significance in his death. One man even said, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t need God to give anyone for me,” he claimed. “I’ve led a good life. Held a good job. People respect me. My wife loves me. I don’t need God to give me his son.” And maybe you agree. But are we really as good as we think we are? Hmmmmm. Let’s see.

“Thou shalt not steal.” Have you ever stolen anything? A paper clip, a peanut maybe? That makes you a thief. “Thou shalt not lie.” Those who claim they never have, just did. “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.” Ever let God’s name slip from your lips in anger or frustration? Blasphemy. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” Now, before you give yourself a pass on that one, Jesus said that if you so much as look at a woman (or a man, for that matter) with lust, you’ve committed adultery with her, or him, in your heart.  Ugh. And that’s just four out of the Ten Commandments.  So, how ya doin’ so far? Yeah, me too.

We could keep going, but I don’t think we’d fare any better. Most sincere people, if they’re really honest, know that we’re really not all that good. We all have regrets. We’ve all made mistakes. The Bible calls that sin. The Greek word is, a(martiða (hamartia), which means to err, to be mistaken, to miss the mark, or to do or go wrong. And we do it all the time. “Everyone has sinned and fallen short of God’s glorious standard.” (Romans 3:23) And it’s our sin that separates us from God. So, if any of us are ever going to have a real relationship with our Creator, then it’s up to him to find a way to reconcile us back to himself. Not the other way ‘round. And that’s where Jesus comes in. He determined to build that bridge with an old, rugged cross. He gave himself. He gave Jesus to bring salvation to the world through his death.

In verse fourteen, Jesus alludes to an event in the Old Testament found in Numbers 21:4-9. It’s a story about sin. The Israelites had rebelled against God, so God allowed poisonous snakes to bite the people so that many of them died. But it’s also a story of grace because Moses interceded for the people and God provided a remedy. He told Moses to make a brass serpent and lift it up on a pole for everyone to see. And anyone who had been bitten, who then looked at the serpent, would immediately be healed.

We’re in a similar situation. The whole world has been bitten by sin, and the “wages of sin is death.” (Rom. 6:23) Just as the serpent was lifted up on that pole for the people to look to for healing, Jesus would be lifted on a cross for us to look to for our healing. God sent his Son to die, not only for Israel, but for the whole world. Although God’s remedy was sufficient for all of Israel, it was only effective for those who "looked upon the serpent." And although God loves, and Jesus’ sacrifice was sufficient for the whole world, it is only effective if we believe.

Jesus said that God “gave his one and only Son so that whoever believes in him shall not perish…” This concept really runs contrary to our instincts, doesn’t it? Maybe because it’s so simple. We expect a more complicated cure, a more sophisticated salvation. But no other religion offers what Jesus promises. Judaism sees salvation as a Judgment Day decision based upon morality. Buddhism grades your life according to the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path. Muslims earn their way to Allah by performing the duties of the Five Pillars of Faith. But not Christianity. Jesus calls us to do one thing: believe.

Now, maybe you’re thinking, “OK. But what about baptism, repentance and a changed life? Are you saying those things aren’t necessary?” No, I’m not. Those things are absolutely essential. But baptism, repentance, a changed life, and things like that are not in addition to our faith. They are expressions of it. They are acts of faith that work together with our faith to make our faith real. And what Jesus wants us to see is that it’s not because of what we’ve done, but because of who he is that puts us in a right relationship with him. And all he asks is that we put our trust in him, and him alone! You see, God rewards those who seek him, not those who seek doctrines or religious systems or creeds. The reward goes to those who settle for nothing other than Jesus himself. And the reward is that when we believe, we live.

“Whoever believes in him,” Jesus concluded, “shall not perish, but have eternal life.” Although people sometimes imagine spending eternity in the clouds, floating around and strumming harps a lot, that’s certainly not the Biblical picture of Heaven. The Bible describes Heaven as a place that will have rivers, trees, cities, buildings, gates, streets, mountains, and houses. (Revelation 21-22) Although its glory will be beyond description, its essential components will be the same as those we find here on Earth. Paradise lost will be Paradise restored.

And although the full glory of Heaven is beyond description, we are certainly capable of imagining a better world, can’t we? A world of beauty and grandeur, a paradise as God intended it to be. But that’s not all. One of the greatest blessings of Heaven is what won’t be there. No death, no disease, no divorce. No trials, no tribulation, no turmoil. Without the presence of evil, the New Heaven and New Earth will be like nothing we’ve ever experienced.

But there’s more. There’s our new body. Paul, in his letter to the church in Corinth, put it this way: “The sun has one kind of beauty, the moon has another beauty, and the stars have another. And each star is different in its beauty. It is the same with the dead who are raised to life. The body that is ‘planted’ will ruin and decay, but it is raised to a life that cannot be destroyed. When the body is ‘planted,’ it is without honor, but it is raised in glory. When the body is ‘planted,’ it is weak, but when it is raised, it is powerful. The body that is ‘planted’ is a physical body. When it is raised, it is a spiritual body.” (1 Corinthians 15:41-44)

Indestructible. Honorable. Glorious. Powerful. Those are words that describe what our new bodies will be like. In this life, we get old. We get tired. Our bodies just won’t do what they used to do. But in eternity, we’ll run faster, jump higher, play harder, and we’ll never get tired or ever grow old.

In summary, then, He loves. He gives. We believe. We live. It’s really that simple. God loves this world, more than we’ll ever know. He gave his one and only Son as a demonstration of that love so that we could live with him forever. Apart from him we die, but with him we live.

So, if you know nothing of the Bible, begin here – John 3:16. And, if you know everything there is to know about the Bible, return there. Because it’s here that you’ll find what you’ve been looking for, even if you didn’t know what you were missing.

Grace,
Randy