You should be looking at yourselves to make
sure that you are really Christ’s. It is yourselves that you should be testing,
not me. You ought to know by this time that Christ is in you, unless you are
not real Christians at all. And when you have applied your test, I am confident
that you will soon find that I myself am a genuine Christian. I pray God that
you may find the right answer to your test, not because I have any need of your
approval, but because I earnestly want you to find the right answer, even if
that should make me no real Christian. For, after all, we can make no progress
against the truth; we can only work for the truth. (2 Corinthians 13:5-8)
We worship an
incalculable, faultless and eternal God who loves us unconditionally. And even
though we could die at any moment, and generally think our lives are pretty
sweet compared to loving God, he persists in loving us despite ourselves. And
our response to that kind of love should be like the man in one of Jesus’
parables: The kingdom of
Heaven is like some treasure which has been buried in a field. A man finds it
and buries it again, and goes off overjoyed to sell all his possessions to buy
himself that field. (Matt.
13:44)
In the parable, this
guy joyfully sells all he has so that he can get the only thing that matters. He
knows what he’s stumbled upon – the kingdom of heaven – and that it’s more
valuable than anything he has. So, he goes for it with everything he’s got. That
kind of enthusiastic response to God’s love is entirely appropriate. Unfortunately,
it stands in pretty stark contrast to our typical response when we discover the
same treasure. Because numbers really impress us, don’t they? For instance, we
gauge the success of a church by how many members it has, or who comes forward
on any given Sunday. We’re wowed by big crowds. Jesus, however, questioned the
authenticity of that kind of record keeping. According to Luke’s account (Luke
8:10), when a crowd started to follow him, Jesus began speaking in parables –
“so that” those who weren’t genuinely listening to him wouldn’t get it. The
fact is Jesus wasn’t really interested in people who were just faking it.
In the parable
of the sower (Luke 8:4-8), Jesus explained that the seed is the truth, or the
Word of God. When the seed was flung onto the path, it was heard but was quickly
stolen away. When the seed was tossed onto the rocks, no roots took hold – an
appearance of depth and growth because of the good soil, but the results were
only skin deep. When the seed fell among thorns, it was received but was soon choked
out by life’s worries, riches and pleasures. But when the seed was thrown onto good
soil, it grew, took root and produced fruit in various quantities. And we all
want to assume that we’re the good soil, right? And maybe we are. But isn’t it
possible that some of us are just a little thorny? Wanting God and a bunch of
other stuff. Good soil suffocated by what it produces. Soil where money, sins,
activities, favorite sports teams, or commitments are piled on top of it. Maybe
it’s because a lot of us have too much in our lives – where things, by
themselves, are good, but when combined can keep us from living healthy,
fruitful lives for God.
Let me ask you what
I’ve been asking myself lately: Has your
relationship with God actually changed the way you live? Do you see
evidence of God’s kingdom in your life? Or, are we slowly choking it out by
spending too much time, energy, money and thought on the things of this world? Think
of it this way: Are you satisfied with being “godly enough,” or looking “good enough,”
in comparison to others? Can you say with Paul that, “I long to know Christ and the power shown by
his resurrection: now I long to share his sufferings, even to die as he died,
so that I may perhaps attain as he did, the resurrection from the dead.”? (Phil. 3:10) I struggle with that
verse because it’s just got too much Jesus in it for me. In my way of thinking,
the verse should’ve ended after the word resurrection.
That way, I can have an appealing, popular Jesus who didn’t suffer. And the
feedback from those who may share my opinion only reassures me that that’s a
fine perspective. The problem is that it gives me little reason to really
strive to know Jesus more deeply. It’s like we’ve been told that we’re good
enough, maybe even godly enough.
But compare that
attitude to what the Bible says. If you do, you’ll probably discover that the church,
at least in some of the communities in which we live, can be a difficult place
to fit in if we really want to live out New Testament Christianity. The goals
of a lot of churches are for their members to have a nice marriage, kids who
don’t swear, and good church attendance. But taking the words of Christ literally
and seriously, however, are rarely done because that’s for the “radicals” who
are unbalanced and go overboard. Let’s face it – most of us want a balanced
life that we can control. A life that’s safe. A life that doesn’t involve
suffering. I mean, who wants to suffer?
The Bible tells
us to test ourselves. So, recently, I took that testing thing seriously and I
did. I took that test. Figured I’d ace it. Turns out I’m no ace. Turns out I
may be one of those people who attend church pretty regularly because that’s what’s
expected; that’s what “good Christians” do, so we go. And giving money to
charity and to the church? Sure, as long as it doesn’t impinge on our standard
of living. But if we have a little extra, and it’s easy and safe to give, we do
so. After all, God loves a cheerful giver, right? These same types also tend to
choose what’s popular over what’s right when they’re in a conflict. They desire
to fit in both at church and outside the church; they care more about what
people think of their actions (like church attendance and giving) than what God
thinks of their hearts and lives.
Lukewarm people
don’t really want to be saved from their sin; they just want to be saved from
the penalty of their sin. They don’t genuinely hate sin and aren’t truly sorry
for it. They’re merely sorry because God’s going to punish them. They really
don’t believe that this new life Jesus offers is better than the old, sinful
one, but are still moved by stories about people who do radical things for
Christ. They just don’t act upon it themselves. That kind of stuff is for
“extreme” Christians, not average ones. In other words, calling “radical” what
Jesus expected of all his followers. As a result, faith is rarely shared with
neighbors, co-workers or friends. Why? Well, we don’t want to be rejected, and we
certainly don’t want to make people uncomfortable by talking about private
issues like “religion.” So, we say we love Jesus, and that he’s a part of our
lives. But only a part. We give him a section of our time, our money and our
thoughts, but Jesus isn’t allowed to control our lives. We love God, but we
don’t love him with all our heart, soul and strength.
Oh, we’re quick
to assure anyone who’ll ask that we try to love God that much, but that sort of
total devotion isn’t really possible for the average person; it’s only for
pastors and missionaries and radicals. So, we love people but don’t seek to
love them as much as ourselves. That kind of love is typically focused on those
who love in return, like family, friends, and other people they know and with
whom they can connect. As a result, there’s little love left over for those who
can’t love them back, much less for those who intentionally slight them, whose
kids are better athletes than theirs, or with whom conversations are awkward
and uncomfortable. That kind of love is highly conditional and very selective,
and generally comes with all sorts of strings attached.
We serve God and
others, but there are limits to how far we’ll go, or how much time, money and
energy we’re willing to give. And, typically, we think about life on earth a
lot more than eternity in heaven. Daily life is mostly focused on today’s to-do
list, this week’s schedule, and next month’s vacation. Rarely, if ever, do we really
consider the life to come. C.S. Lewis wrote, “If you read history you will find
that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who
thought most of the next. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think
of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.”
Mind you, we’re
thankful for our luxuries and comforts, but we rarely consider trying to give
as much as possible to the poor. We’re quick to point out, “Jesus never said
money is the root of all evil, only that the love of money is.” So, we minister to the rich while few are called
to minister to the poor. In other words, we do whatever is necessary to keep
ourselves from feeling too guilty. We do the bare minimum; to be “good enough,”
without it requiring too much of us. We ask, “How far can I go before it’s
considered a sin?” Or, “How much do I have to give?” rather than “How much can
I give?” Or, “How much time should I spend praying and reading my Bible?”
rather than “I wish I didn’t have to go to work so I could sit here and read
more.” We play it safe and are slaves to the god of control. Our focus is on
safe living which keeps us from sacrificing and risking for God.
As a result, we
don’t live by faith because we don’t have to. We live by structure, instead. We
don’t have to trust God if something unexpected happens because we have our
savings account. We don’t need God’s help because we have a retirement plan in place.
We don’t genuinely seek out what life God would have us to live because we’ve
got it all figured out. We don’t depend on God on a daily basis because our
refrigerators are full and, for the most part, we’re in good health. The truth
is, our lives wouldn’t look much different if we just, all-of-a-sudden, stopped
believing in God altogether.
This isn’t intended
to be used as ammunition to judge a fellow believer’s salvation. Instead, as 2
Cor. 13:5 says, it’s a call to “… find the right answer to your test, not because I have any need of
your approval, but because I earnestly want you to find the right answer….”
The truth is that we’re all messed up human beings, and no one’s immune. But there’s
a difference between a life that’s characterized by this kind of thinking and these
kinds of habits, and a life that’s in the process of being transformed.
Growing up, I gave
some thought to joining the Air Force because I wanted to be a commercial
airline pilot, and being a former Air Force pilot was the ticket to that kind
of ride. That was also about the same time that the Marines were advertising, “The
few. The proud. The Marines.” What turned me
off about those commercials, however, was that everyone was running. Always. And
I hate running. But it wasn’t like I was going to ask them if they’d modify the
rules for me so I could run less, or maybe do fewer push-ups. That would’ve been
pointless and stupid, and I knew it. Everyone knows that if you sign up for any
branch of the military, you have to do whatever they tell you. They own you.
But
somehow that realization doesn’t cross over very well to our thinking about the
Christian life. Jesus didn’t say that if you wanted to follow him you could do
it half-heartedly. He said, “Take up your cross and follow me.” He also said, “Or,
suppose there is a king who is going to war with another king, doesn’t he sit
down first and consider whether he can engage the twenty thousand of the other
king with his own ten thousand? And if he decides he can’t, then, while the
other king is still a long way off, he sends messengers to him to ask for
conditions of peace. So it is with you; only the man who says goodbye to all
his possessions can be my disciple.” (Luke 14:31-33) In other words, Jesus asks
for everything. The problem is we try to give him less.
“Salt is a very
good thing, but if salt loses its flavor, what can you use to restore it? It is
no good for the ground and no good as manure. People just throw it away.” (Luke
14:34-35) Jesus isn’t making some cute little analogy here. He’s addressing
those who aren’t willing to give everything, who won’t follow him all the way.
He is saying that lukewarm, half-hearted following is useless, and that it
sickens the soul. He’s saying that this kind of salt is not even fit for
“manure.” Wow.
How would you like to hear the Son of God say, “You know, you’d ruin
manure”? Yeah, me neither. When salt is salty, it helps manure become good
fertilizer … but a lukewarm, tepid and uncommitted faith is pretty useless. It
can’t even benefit … well, you get the picture.
Randy
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