Prisons of the Mind

There are prisons of the mind that are far more difficult to bear than any bars and walls man can devise. Paul talks about being in bondage to sin. You are a slave to whatever you choose to serve. (Romans 6:16) This is so easy to understand. If you lie, you are forced to cover the lie with another and another until you are bound by the lies you have told. Cigarettes, drugs and alcohol clearly bind those who become addicted to their seducing pleasures. It is the same with gambling, pornography, and even video gaming or Internet fascinations. You become imprisoned by whatever you give yourself to.

I am reading a book by John Ortberg called Soul Keeping. Ortberg correctly insists that the human soul, that critical part of our inward being, requires a center. We get to choose what we center our soul upon. Bob Dylan said it right years ago in the song, “You Got to Serve Somebody.” Dylan sang that it may be the Devil, or it may be the Lord, but you are going to serve somebody. There are only the two choices. Anything that is not of God is of the Devil, God’s arch-enemy. There are things like alcohol or video games that are not evil in and of themselves, but when you make them the center of your life, that thing becomes evil, an idol to use Bible language, and everyone knows idolatry is a bad thing.

There are other ways to become imprisoned besides falling into sin or idolatry. It is quite easy to become enslaved by unhealthy attitudes, or stinkin’ thinkin’ as someone once called it. If you were raised by an abusive father or were without a father, for example, you may reject the idea of a good Heavenly Father. Your whole perception of who God is can become bound by your earthly experience. This leaves you outside of His adopted family and His gracious provision.

In the same way, you could be imprisoned by wrong thinking because you were raised in a home where God was discounted, and the philosophies of the world were embraced. This is easy to understand since it was the goal of Darwin and his many disciples to provide the theory of evolution as a way to escape human responsibility to the Creator. Most of us absorbed evolutionary thinking without realizing what it meant.

There are also those who may actually be Christians, believers, who allow themselves to be bound by belief systems that are not Biblical. Paul is especially hard on the people in Galatia, calling them foolish for abandoning the freedom of the Gospel of Christ and falling back into the bondage of salvation by works. (Galatians 3:1-4) This predicament is not unique to Jews. Many believers will assert that they are acceptable to God because they have lived a good life. These people are bound by the false assumption that God loves them because of what they do rather than whom they serve. This kind of thinking can make every day a struggle to be good enough.

Another sort of bondage is related to the idea of salvation by works. You may feel that you are not worthy to be loved by God. Psychologists refer to this as a poor self-image. This attitude highlights one of the strange paradoxes of the Christian faith. It is true that no one is worthy of God’s favor, yet He grants it to all who come to Jesus in faith. You don’t have to clean yourself up to present your life to God; while you were dead in sin and disobedient, Christ came to give you life. (Ephesians 2:1-5) The only people God can save are those who realize they are unworthy. You must nail your broken self on the cross of Jesus and give it up. That act initiates a transaction where your unrighteousness is traded for the righteousness of Jesus, God’ Son. (Romans 4:22-24) That act also qualifies you for adoption into the Family of God, otherwise known as the Church or Christ’s Body. (Ephesians 1:5)

A prison made of bricks and bars is an awful place. But even a person who is behind bars can become free in the most important way, by giving his life to Christ and gaining eternal freedom in Him. Conversely, a person who is walking freely about the world can be imprisoned by many things worse than bricks and bars. Paul reminded the wayward Galatians, “It is for freedom that Christ has set you free.” (5:1) I recommend that you do a “gut check” or perhaps it should be called a soul check. Are you “free indeed,” as Christ promised (John 8:36), or have you allowed something to enslave you. God opens prison doors; you have only to ask.

Worry is a Choice

I confess: I am a worrier. I don’t mean to be, but my constitution is such that I am always living some distance into the future. Sometimes that is a pleasant place to live when the prospects are clearly good. However, when the situation is unclear or clearly bad in some way, I tend to imagine what ill may fall. I rationalize this behavior by telling myself that I am simply preparing for the worst so that I am ready when it happens. I still live by the Boy Scout motto I learned when I was twelve: be prepared.

You can see, no doubt, that this is hooey. What I am doing is worrying about something that may or may not happen. “Be prepared” means taking your umbrella if the forecast promises rain or carrying chains in the trunk if you drive the mountains in winter. My little game of “what if” is just worry in a thin disguise. And worry is prohibited by my Master, a fact that was brought poignantly home to me this morning.

I listened to a sermon from Capital Church in Salt Lake City because I am away from home this Sunday. The guest speaker, Heather Zemple, preached on Matthew 6:25-34. That’s the part of the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus says, “Do not be anxious about your life.” The Greek word translated “anxious” means to take care concerning something, also translated by some as “worry.” Heather correctly points out that anxiety can have chemical or psychological causes that require professional attention. This is not the kind of thing Jesus was addressing; He meant that I should stop playing “what if” with every little situation that does not appear to have a wonderful outcome. In other words, stop worrying.

My rational mind knows I am not supposed to worry. I don’t often harbor worried thoughts in my mind, but my gut does. I tend to center my worry subconsciously in my stomach. It can be quite uncomfortable. At one point some time ago, I was rushed to the hospital thinking I was having a heart attack, only to discover it was my gastro-intestinal system crying out with worry. This is frequently where ulcers come from. I have learned to listen to my stomach and to ferret out the fret that is causing the discomfort. This condition indicates that I have been inappropriately dealing with something that needs to be addressed.

Heather led me to the answer to the problem of worry. It is found in Paul’s letter to the Philippians where he counsels us to worry about nothing, but to pray about everything. (4:6) He follows that admonition with one of the best promises in Scripture: “And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hears and your minds in Christ Jesus.” In other words, worry is a choice; neither Jesus nor Paul would command us not to worry if that were impossible. It is our choice to worry about something, or to pray about it and trust God to work it out. We can choose to worry, or we can lean on God and have peace.

Heather wisely pointed out that this does not mean we will necessarily be delivered from all our troubles. The well-known twenty-third Psalm says the divine Shepherd is with us “when [we] walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” Or as the popular song says, He will be with us through the storm rather than taking away the storm. Heather said if we trust God’s character, we can rest in the chaos. No worries. This does not mean we abandon our duties or escape into frivolous diversions. It means that we press on regardless of the circumstances knowing that God is in every circumstance working “all things for the good of them that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

I received a wonderful confirmation of this lesson today. I have been trying not to worry that we may not have enough money to meet our obligations this month. After the sermon this morning, I confessed my worry and thanked God that He provides for me on a regular basis. When I checked the bank balance to see how far behind we would be, I discovered an automatic deposit that I had forgotten. We are fine, not rich, but fine. Back in Philippians Paul said that he had learned to be content, at peace, in whatever circumstance he was in. I am still working on that. For today anyway, I choose not to worry.

Why Bother with Church?

I have run across a number of people lately, several who are dear to my heart, who have bad feelings about going to church or they have stopped going altogether. The title of this blog is Why Heaven Matters, but today I want to explain why church matters. There is a direct link between Heaven and the Church of Christ, His body here on earth.

The simplest reason why believers should attend church is because it is commanded. The writer of Hebrews is addressing some believers who were falling short in certain areas of the Christian walk, and in the midst of his correction he makes the statement, “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:23-25 Italics mine)

The second reason to be involved in church life is also hidden in the Hebrews passage above: “encouraging one another.” Some time ago I wrote a Bible study on the “one anothers” of the Bible; I counted 52 different places where the actual words “one another” appear in the New Testament or the concept is clearly intended. I categorized the many occurrences into five types, suggesting that our sharing in the Body of Christ falls into one or more of these: fostering peace and harmony with one another, encouraging one another, confessing to one another, loving or caring for one another, serving one another, and correcting one another. If we neglect meeting together, there is little chance for these important duties to take place.

If it is not enough to say church attendance is commanded, no doubt because of the many necessary responsibilities we have toward one another, there is one more reason I will mention: worship. I agree with all those who say that one can worship anywhere; in fact, I believe we are supposed to worship everywhere, if by worship we mean demonstrate our opinion that God is worthy to be praised. It is true that one can worship God on the golf course, on the lake, or in the woods. The trouble is that doing that to the regular exclusion of Sunday morning meetings is in violation of a clear command. The Bible has some pretty harsh things to say about people who offer worship to God while ignoring what He requires of His worshippers. Besides, there is something precious about gathering together with fellow-believers and joining in corporate worship, prayer, proclamation of the Word, and don’t forget the breaking of bread (communion) which Jesus also commanded to be done.

I sympathize with the negative feelings I have heard expressed by some. Three of the people I have recently heard from were hurt by people in the church at the very time they should have received comfort. A couple others have found it so frustrating to see little or no growth among their fellow-congregants that they see little use in continuing to attend. One person I know has fallen prey to the popular misinterpretation of our security in Christ, claiming that he “accepted Christ” as a child, and there is nothing he needs to do beyond that youthful confession.

The bottom line is that we don’t go to church expecting to find perfect people. Quite the opposite is true: we go to church because we are all imperfect people needing the support and guidance that the Body of Christ provides. If you or someone you know has fallen out of the habit of church attendance, consider this. Until we reach that glorious day when our flesh is totally redeemed by God’s grace at Heaven’s gate, the Church is the closest thing we have to Heaven on earth. I detest “church hopping” because of petty grievances, but there are plenty of churches out there who are “doing church” in a way that makes it worth attending. If you don’t have one, find one. It’s for your best in the long run.

For the Love of Cats

Everyone who knows me knows I don’t like cats. No, I hate cats. That same group of friends knows I have lived with cats as long as I have lived with my wife (47 years next month). This situation has created many lively discussions in our house, and several times I have sworn that the current feline resident would be the last. I’m still saying that; so much for my sovereignty.

I don’t really know why I hate cats. My father and his father both swore they hated cats; maybe I just picked it up from them. Goodness knows there was never a cat in our house to fuel my hatred. For that matter, the two dogs we had as pets were both outdoor dogs dedicated (supposedly) to bird hunting. I remember hunting twice with the first setter, but never with the spaniel before he ran away never to return. My mother had a parakeet for a short time, but that is the only non-human I remember living in our home.

I’m just not a pet guy. I have said it on numerous occasions: I don’t have enough room in my heart to love a dumb animal that requires constant attention and needless expense. Why bother? I fully understand the unconditional love that pets can shower on their owners with yucky wet tongues and snuggling furry bodies. I’m content to live without that kind of affection. Honestly, I prefer to be without it, thank you very much.

It seems fitting then that I am allergic to cat dander. What, you ask, have I been doing all these years with cats in the house? Sneezing. Blowing my nose. Rubbing my itching eyes. Granted, I am allergic to many other things as well, so my condition cannot be blamed entirely on the cat, but surely the feline-in-residence contributes to my suffering in no small way. Yet I put up with it. Why? Because I love my wife more than I hate her cat.

This brings me to the point of this soul-searching revelation. This morning I read Psalm 36 in my devotions. Verses five and six read, “Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds. Your righteousness is like the mountains of God; your judgments are like the great deep; man and beast you save, O Lord.” Man AND beast? I followed a cross-reference to Nehemiah 9:6 and found this: “You are the Lord, you alone. You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and you preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships you.”

The birds, the beasts, and the fish in the sea rate preservation by the Almighty Creator. It is not coincidence that the last phrase brings up worship. Elsewhere Scripture reveals that, “The heavens declare the glory ofGod,” and “the trees of the field will clap their hands [at His coming].” In other words, all creation worships the Creator. It is not hard to imagine that the Creator loves His creation: “For God so loved the world…”

The Greek word most often translated “worship” in the New Testament also gives insight into the nature of the relationship between creation and Creator. According to Strong’s lexicon, Proskuneo (προσκυνέω), derives from a word, “meaning to kiss, like a dog licking his master’s hand.” Our approach to the Creator as the crowning beast of His creation is “like a [pet].” Epiphany! God views us not unlike the way we view our pets: the greater looks down upon the lesser with love, affection, care and protection. Oh my!

Now I see that if I am to be perfected into the image of my Savior, who came and dwelt among “His own,” then cared enough to give His life for them, I need to cultivate a love for cats. That would make me more like Christ. After all, Romans 5:8 tells me that, “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” It would be inappropriate to say that God liked us before He saved us. He hates sin, but He loves sinners. I hate many of the things that come with being a cat, but I understand that I need to love the cat in spite of all that.

Sigh! This becoming like Christ thing gets harder and harder. Come here, Sadie; let me scratch your dandered little head.

Where is We?

I’m reading Philip Yancey’s book titled, Prayer: Does it Make a Difference? Page after page, I am struck by his insightful questions, although I expect to be disappointed by the absence of answers. Yancey admits this will be the case early in his ruminations. Still, I am reading on because the discussion about prayer and the examples of fellow-prayers draw me in.

At one point Yancey quotes Walter Breuggmann amid a discussion of the candor evident in many of the prayers we know as Psalms. Breuggmann says the candor is necessary because, “life is like that, and these poems are intended to speak to all of life, not just part of it.” He finds is jarring that modern worship songs are nearly all “happy songs,” a fact that seems to him to be inconsistent with the proportion of not-happy songs found in the Bible songbook known as Psalms.

The presence of happy songs is no surprise given the tendency of many modern Christians to believe that happiness is one of the benefits of being a believer. I discussed this sad misunderstanding previously (see Happiness and Joy), so I won’t belabor the point here except to say that I believe it is important for Christians to learn the difference between happiness versus joy. (Yes, Randy, there is a difference.)

I found myself agreeing with Brueggmann and going a step further: not only are most of our popular songs upbeat, they are almost universally written in first person singular (1PS). Ten of the top fifty Christian songs on Billboard today have the words “I, Me or My” in the title. At least that many more speak in 1PS, though it is not in the name of the song. Of the remaining songs, the majority speak in second person singular (2PS) as they are directed to God. A recent survey by song licensing agent, CCLI, reveals fourteen of the top twenty-four most popular songs in churches are in 1PS.

At first blush, this may not seem terrible: we sing about our personal relationship with God, so 1PS and 2PS are the most likely points of view. “Good, Good Father” is a perfect example: You (God) are this; I am that. There is nothing wrong with that in and of itself. However, if all I sing about is me and God, a large part of what it means to live as a Christian is missed. While a personal relationship with Jesus is essential, that relationship ultimately places me in a body, His Body, the Church.

Immediately someone will mention, “If We Are the Body” by Casting Crowns. But that song is a rebuke, and I don’t recall having heard it sung in church. Certainly, there are other examples of songs that speak to or about the corporate experience of being a Christian. However, as surveys show, they are not predominant by any measure. I suspect that the majority would also be “happy” songs as well.

This mistaken tendency to be self-centered and happiness-focused is not trivial. Jesus said the entire law of God rests on two commands: love God; love your neighbor as yourself. The self is to be taken to the cross daily, Jesus said elsewhere. James counselled that true religion is other-centered. Peter asks us to rejoice in trials. In Ephesians and 1 Corinthians Paul makes it abundantly clear that the gifts of ministry are given to individuals for the benefit of the body, not the individual.

Despite what the Alcorns and Bells of the world say, Christianity is not all warm fuzzies and happiness, at least not the Christianity that is portrayed in the New Testament. The joy (not happiness) we have is the joy Jesus had: He looked toward the joy “despising the shame"[and torture] of the cross. Over 50 “one-anothers” in the Bible call us to turn our vertical love for God into a horizontal love of those around us. First of all, Paul says, toward those of the household of faith (Gal. 6:10).

We need to keep singing those songs about the wonder of our salvation, but not neglecting to remember what our salvation is for. We were saved for a purpose: to love our neighbor. First those who sing around us, then those who dwell in the darkness just outside our church door. They need to know why we are singing.

Jesus Wept?

People who know a little about the Bible know that John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the English Bible: “Jesus wept.” I was challenged by yesterday’s sermon to turn it into a question, and the search for the answer will not be short. There are several opinions as to why Jesus wept; the one I will suggest as most likely will not be familiar to many.

The most obvious answer to why Jesus wept is that He was saddened by Lazarus’ death. This seems logical at first glance, but two things mitigate against it in my mind. First, Jesus had deliberately postponed His coming to Bethany so that Lazarus would die; He told His disciples this plainly (vv. 14-15). It doesn’t make sense to me that the Healer would cry over something He had orchestrated. The second problem I find in the sadness explanation is that Jesus also knew what he was about to do. It is clear what Jesus response to Martha meant when He said, “Your brother will rise again.” She thought Jesus was referring to the expected resurrection of the righteous; Jesus had earlier plans for her brother.

Another explanation for Jesus’ weeping is that He was following the cultural expectation of His day. The Greek word chosen by John means to literally shed tears, perhaps even silently. This was not the “weeping” of the culture. The Jews traditionally mourned their dead with vocal weeping; sometimes “professional” weepers would be hired to make the departed one seem more missed than he truly was. I doubt this was the case with Lazarus, as he was apparently well-known and loved. Although Jesus did care for Lazarus and his sisters, it seems unlikely to me that He would take this opportunity to do something merely for sake of appearance. In every other situation I can think of, Jesus was remarkably callous toward empty cultural practices.

Lazarus’ pain of death is another suggested cause for Jesus’ tears. Some think the human expression of grief was another signal of the dual nature of the Messiah: He would raise his friend, but he could shed a tear over the circumstance. Others suggest that Jesus was weeping over the unbelief of those close to Him who didn’t appear to grasp His ability to deal with the present situation. This last explanation comes closest to what I think was the reason Jesus wept.

There are two words in the Greek language of verse 33 that help me understand what Jesus was feeling. The first is sometimes translated “deeply moved;” the KJV says he “groaned.” The NLT gets the closest, I think, to the Greek word ἐμβριμάομαι saying, “a deep anger welled up within him.” We are told this “anger” was “in [his] spirit” and that it “troubled him.” The word for “troubled” is ταράσσω. It means stirred up; metaphorically it could mean disquieted or distressed in one’s mind or, in this case, One’s spirit. The deepest part of Jesus’ being was indignant to the point of distress; he wept.

Here is what I think was happening. Jesus wasn’t just there when the human race was begun in the Garden of Eden; He created it all. (John 1:1-4) He knew that death was not part of the perfect state of humans. He knew that a sinister force had tricked Adam and Eve into abandoning their complete dependence on their Creator and exchanging it for an independence that would lead to death. He also knew that the curse on creation was about to be undone by His work at Calvary. In other words, He knew the enemy, and He knew what had to be done to defeat him. He wept.

Because Jesus is the perfect representation of who God is, this tells us something astounding about God. He weeps. He cares that we are in a sin-stained, broken world that sometimes leaves sisters confused and grief-stricken over their dead brother. He cares when our relationships go south. He cares when evil persons visit violence on others. Even though He knows that ultimately He wins, He weeps.

Mary and Martha might have taken comfort in Jesus’ tears; they undoubtedly rejoiced in Lazarus’ resurrection. They probably forgot that Jesus seemed to discount their concern when He delayed his return. That is the lesson for us: it may seem like God hasn’t been there or didn’t care when we needed Him, but He is always there, and He always cares. It may be a comfort to know that in your painfully dark hour when you were crying out to Him, Jesus didn’t ignore you; Jesus wept.

Doing Things by Grace

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 4:16)

Each day my computer generates a list of people, places and things to pray for. I choose a Bible verse or passage that strikes me as important to pray over my list. Today, my regular Bible reading had me in Hebrews, and I turned 4:16 into this prayer: “[May you] hold firmly to what [you] believe [and] come boldly to the throne of our gracious God [to] receive his mercy, and find grace to help [you] when [you] need it most.”

The Greek says we “receive” (λαμβάνω) mercy, but we “find” (εὑρίσκω) grace. I know I have a tendency to make more of semantics than may be necessary, but the choice of these two words, and the way they complement each other sparked my interest. First, lambano (λαμβάνω) has a variety of meanings, receive being one legitimate way to translate it. Another word often used in translating it is “take.” Strong’s lexicon has an interesting note on this: “to take by craft (our catch, used of hunters, fisherman, etc.). Mercy is there “for the taking,” as we might say.

The word used by the writer of Hebrews for “find” (eurisko, εὑρίσκω) is also fascinating. Again, Strong’s has this to say in part, “to find by enquiry, thought, examination, scrutiny, observation, to find out by practice and experience.” I do not mean to suggest that we somehow work to find grace. Grace is freely given by God to all. However, I know in my life it has taken some “practice and experience” to find grace. I have a natural tendency to do things my way instead of the “grace-way.”

I suspect I am not alone in struggling to live by grace. The so-called American way is to pull oneself up by one’s own bootstraps as they say. The image of that old adage is instructive: pulling on one’s bootstraps will only make the boots too tight; little will be accomplished as far as getting “up,” wherever that may be. This is a good picture of what happens when we try to do something in our own human power instead of relying on God’s gracious provision of His infinite power.

The writer of Hebrews encourages us to, “come boldly unto the throne of grace” as the KJV puts it. The ESV says we should draw near, “with confidence.” Boldness comes with the confidence that we will be well received. Due to the work of our forerunner, Jesus, we have such confidence, but often we either ignore the offer of grace, or we forget that it has been made. I don’t intend to shame anyone, (least of all myself), but don’t we belittle the work of Christ for us when we refuse the free gift of grace He bought for us?

I am challenged by this thought. I share the challenge with you, my reader. Let’s drop the bootstrap analogy and practice the new one given to us “new creations.” If we fish the mercy out of the ocean of promises God offers, and then we thoughtfully apply the grace of God to our tasks, there is no limit to what we can accomplish. Literally, no limit; that’s what infinite means, and God’s grace is infinite.