Just Christ and Him Crucified

Dear Old Friend,

I haven’t written to you in a long time.  I regret that for a number of reasons, but mostly because, in losing touch with you I’m pretty sure I lost touch with “the basics”.  I’ve been very busy lately trying to understand things.  I’m certainly not saying there’s anything wrong with wanting to have a deeper understanding of spiritual truths, but I have found that there is a pit on that path into which you can fall; and right now I feel like I’m sitting in the bottom of that pit, too tired to climb back out.

My brain hurts.  I feel battle-weary and confused.  I’m not always the fastest or the brightest, but even I know this doesn’t feel like Good News.  I’ve been listening to lots of opinions as to what makes up that News, and there are almost as many different opinions as there are people as to what should or should not be included under that banner. 

Is there such a thing as grace on the ground? Should we as Christians constantly be striving, albeit poorly, to offer to others the same love, mercy and forgiveness we have been given; and, if we should, is there a limit? And, if there is, what would that limit look like? Or, is that strictly just my Old Adam trying to get some skin in the game? Should I think at all in terms of desiring to please God with my life, or is that a completely false way of thinking, because he is already well-pleased with me because of Christ?

If I feel good and happy when I have been given an opportunity to minister to someone, is that the Holy Spirit, or is that just me pridefully trying to take the credit which belongs to God alone?

If I think that Scripture seems to take for granted that Christians will be baptized and take communion, does that mean that I am adding something to salvation by grace alone, through faith alone in the finished work of Christ alone? 

Does “sanctification” mean to become more and more and more holy?  Can there actually be such a thing as “more” holy?  And, if there is, does it have anything to do with my improving moral behavior?

Does the fact that I want to be loved and accepted and try to act in ways which will bring about that result necessarily mean that I am wearing a mask?  And, is the answer, instead, for me to be totally vulnerable to other fallible human beings who “should” respect me for it and then let down their guard in return, but who are much more likely to never quite look me in the eye again?

You know what?  I don’t know!  On any given day I might just give you a different answer to any of the questions above, and probably not even realize it.  It’s even quite likely that I have given different answers to those questions on the same day; maybe even in the same conversation.  And, I am just about as certain that is true of everyone I have been listening to as well.

Are these important questions? Yes.  Are there absolute answers to those questions?  Maybe.  Probably. Do I know of anyone who knows all of the answers?  Besides God, no.  There might be, but at this point I am not aware of just who that person or group is; and, at this moment, I am tired of trying to figure it out.

At this moment, I just need to know that Jesus loves me, despite the fact that I might not have every jot and tittle of my theology figured out.  I need to know that his love for me is no more dependent on my total grasp of grace than it was on my total obedience to the law.  I need to have God “restore unto me the joy of my salvation.”  I want to stop worrying about getting it right and rest in my Savior’s arms.  For right now I’m deciding to know nothing but “Jesus Christ and him crucified.”

And I just wanted to say that to someone who loves me as I am.  Thank you for being that someone for me.

Love Always,

Bonnie

Fears and Faceplants

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know, I just came back from helping to take care of my precious four year old grandson who had a very serious infection in his foot, which began to spread up his leg, and initially wasn’t responding to antibiotics.  It was a pretty scary time!  I am so grateful for all of the people who prayed and for all of the people at home and at work who were so supportive and made it possible for me to go.  My daughter needed the help and rest and I was so glad to be able to give her a break and to spend time with my sweet boy in the hospital.

Because he was being given IV antibiotics, my grandson had been stuck with needles repeatedly in order to find a good vein.  In addition, blood had to be drawn periodically to be cultured, and it could not be tainted with the antibiotic, so this required sticking him again.  Each incident was pure torment, with that precious child crying and begging them as politely as he could to please stop.  It was heartbreaking! As a result, every single time anyone came into the room, he would eye them suspiciously and ask, “Why are you here?” Explaining to him that the nurses and technicians were only doing these things to help him get better did absolutely nothing to allay his fears. Eventually, even when there wasn't anything being done to him which was hurting him, he would cry and scream anyway, in fearful expectation that it would. 

Once the IV antibiotics finally took hold and got things under control, the goal was to get him ready to go home with oral antibiotics; but, sadly, after repeated failed attempts to get him to swallow and keep the medicine down, it was decided that a PICC line had to be put in his arm so that he could continue IV antibiotics at home.  Because that line was inserted surgically, thankfully he did not have to feel the pain of another IV stick; but, when he woke up and we explained that, with his new line, he would not feel any pain when the nurses hooked him up to the antibiotic or flushed the line, he didn’t believe us!  He still cried each time they touched the new line until he finally realized that we were right.

Once they were satisfied that the PICC line was functioning properly and that my daughter understood how to properly care for it and was comfortable with administering the antibiotics herself, my grandson was finally released.  While he was in the hospital, because he was not feeling well, he had been content to quietly play on his iPad, listen to books and watch television, but once he was home and feeling better he was full of pent up four-year-old energy.  Unfortunately, he still had to be careful with his PICC line and had to limit the use of his foot.  Consequently, he would play quietly until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and then he would suddenly become a little wild man.  He would jump and roar, laugh and throw himself around trying to release some of that energy. 

On one occasion he decided that standing on the sofa next to me and then falling face down into my lap was a great idea.  I tried to dissuade him, to no avail; so, every time he fell I would catch him to keep him from face planting into the arm of the couch or crash landing onto the floor.  Fortunately he does not weigh a lot, but it was still a challenge to catch a launching child who was all flailing arms and legs!

After a number of death-defying leaps, he became upset that I was catching him.  He interpreted my actions as attempts to prevent him from doing what he wanted to do, rather than as life-saving interventions.  As his frustration mounted and my explanations of why I was doing what I was doing failed to mollify him, I finally told him that we needed to stop this little game; then, because my daughter called me at that moment, I stood up to go into the other room.

Rather than stopping his acrobatic feats when I turned my back, my grandson saw only a great opportunity to do exactly what he had wanted to do all along, now that I was out of the way; and, you can imagine what happened next:  He face planted directly into the arm of the sofa and wailing ensued!

While I comforted a very sad little boy and explained that this was exactly what I had been trying to prevent (a pious way of saying ‘I told you so’), God made a point of reminding me that I had no room to be self-righteous, because my grandson and I are a lot alike.

When the trials of life come, I quickly become terrified of what pain might lie ahead for me or for those who matter the most to me.  It makes no difference to me that God might be doing something beneficial, I still become suspicious of his goodness and distrustful of his love. I am certain that I know what is best, and I resent what I perceive to be God’s efforts at keeping me from getting what I desire.  I have even been known to propel myself headlong into situations where I know God doesn’t want me to go; but, instead of telling me ‘I told you so’ or getting angry with me when I get hurt, God always picks me up, gently takes me in his arms and tells me that he loves me and understands my fears.  He whispers to me about how, because he knows my frailty, he sent his son to rescue me, even when I wasn’t ready to admit I needed to be rescued; and, he assures me that there is nothing I could ever do which would separate me from his love.  He simply gives me grace.

No matter how old we get, my grandson and I will always be God’s precious children and we will always need that grace!

Love Always,

Bonnie

When It's Not Safe to Pray

Dear Old Friend,

After all of the years we’ve known each other, you know that I am a great believer in prayer.  I pray about everything, big and small.  In my opinion there is nothing too insignificant to bring to God; I believe he’s not too busy to care about even silly things like lost keys.  He’s a God of tiny details like the number of hairs on my head, so I never worry that I’m bothering him with my seemingly insignificant requests.

I also know there’s nothing too big for God to take on.  I’ve seen magnificent “yes” answers to prayers about huge things, where the seemingly impossible happens.  I have also witnessed “no” answers to prayers, where God in his infinite wisdom had other plans.  Prayer has then helped me to accept God’s sovereignty.   

I have also always counseled others to pray.  If I’m asked to impart wisdom about a particular situation, I may offer my thoughts and then recommend that they not rely on my judgment, but rather bring their questions to God in prayer and he will give them the true wisdom they need; but, often I simply decline to offer my opinion and send them straight to prayer.  I didn’t realize just how frequently I gave that answer until my daughter told me about a conversation she had with my son-in-law who was struggling with something.  She suggested that he call and talk to me.  He smiled and said, “I don’t have to call her because I already know what she will say.  She will tell me to pray.”

I’m only telling you this so that you can put into context how odd it is for me to say that there are things about which I have learned it is not safe for me to pray.  I have so much emotional investment in these specific issues, that when I pray I become utterly desperate, to the point of demanding that God give me the “yes” answer I believe I must have.  I rail and wail; I beg and plead; I work myself into a frenzy and feel myself drawing a line in the sand, belligerently declaring in my heart, if not in words, that if God doesn’t give me what I am asking for, I am done; and when I finish praying I feel terribly alone.

I am sad to admit that scene has played itself out many times; but, thankfully, what God has taught me is that, even when I have followed that path, and I feel like the Incredible Hulk who has just alienated God with my rage, he does not leave me alone.  He understands what prompted my desperation and loves me, and assures me that he is big enough to handle my fear and anger.  But he has also taught me that I am much better off when I simply do not go down that road.

The alternative, for me, is to stop when the panic starts to rise, and tell God, “You know how I feel”, and leave it at that.  If that doesn’t stop the desperation, I have some precious friends, like you, to whom I know I can turn, and ask to pray for me.  I don’t just mean “pray for me”, in the way we typically mean, but, to pray instead of me; to pray in my place; to pray because it is not safe for me to pray. 

When I do that, I always feel the prayers wash over me and I have an immediate sense of peace.  The pure grace of God extended to me through those who love me.  I am writing this to you because I find myself once again in need of those prayers.  I cannot tell you how much it means to know that you will pray in my stead.

Thank you, dear friend.

Love Always,

Bonnie

 

Red Light, Green Light...Blue Light?

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know I just came back from visiting my three year old and five month old grandsons.  I had so much fun!  There is so much difference between how I was with my children and how I am as a Grammie.  Maybe this whole idea of a second childhood is at its best when it comes to playing with your grandchildren.  I play with great abandon.  I’m silly and spontaneous and inventive.  I was never like that with my kids.  When I found time to play, I remember it being pretty unimaginative and regimented.  Maybe this had something to do with feeling the weight of responsibility for teaching them something important in every activity.  I don’t feel a bit of that weight with my grandsons and I absolutely love the freedom. 

I have also discovered that I am the one who is learning the important things as I play with them.  Since little children have not yet become sophisticated at disguising their human natures, I can clearly see myself and all of us in the way they approach life.  I have an example I thought you would enjoy.  My daughter was playing an impromptu game of red-light-green-light with her three year old.  He would run until she said “red light”, then he had to stop where he was and wait for her to say “green light”, at which point he would run again.  This reminded them both of something they had done before which they enjoyed.  They taped red, green and yellow pieces of construction paper on the floor.  The idea was to start at a green square, run until you hit a yellow square, which meant you had to slow down, and then finally come to a complete stop on a red square.  I could see that this game had many practical applications.  It taught color recognition as well as the concept of traffic lights, and, it even taught the importance of obeying the law.

The three year old was dispatched to fetch the construction paper while my daughter got the tape.  He came back excitedly with a handful of colorful papers, including blue.  My daughter proceeded to tape the green, red and yellow “lights” at various intervals around the house, but my grandson insisted that he wanted to tape the blue paper, too.  My daughter patiently explained what each of the colored “lights” represented and encouraged him to stick to just those three.  He was fine for a few minutes, faithfully following the path and its instructions; running, slowing, stopping, then running again.  But soon he was quiet and we saw that he was taping the blue “lights” to the floor.  My daughter tried to reason with him, but he was adamant, so she shook her head, shrugged her shoulders and let him continue. 

Soon my grandson was attempting to follow the path, but, because even he didn’t know what he should do when he came to a blue square, he lost focus and was soon just running aimlessly.  My daughter finally called out to him in a frustrated voice, “See; now you are just running with total disregard for the law!”

I thought that was hilarious, but my daughter didn’t think it was nearly as funny as I did.  All I could think was that we are all just like my grandson.  God gave us the law, which, if learned and followed, would make our lives so much simpler and more pleasant; but, we just can’t do it.  We insist on going our own way, sticking in our blue meaningless squares, and once we have gotten our way we lose all focus and are soon running in total disregard for the law. 

The consequences of our actions have more of an eternal significance, however, than those of my three year old grandson; so, knowing that about us and loving us, God sent his son to follow all of the rules for us, and then credited us with his perfect obedience.  His son then took all of the punishment for our willful disobedience, so that we would not have to.  Such an unbelievable gift!

We come from the womb with little rebel hearts, don’t we!  It sure is a good thing our Father loves us so much.               

Love Always,

Bonnie

We Can Never Fulfill The Law of Forgiveness

Dear Old Friend,

When we got together last week, you mentioned listening to and being troubled by a recent sermon given by a guest speaker at a church we have come to look to as the place where we can always count on hearing the Gospel. The sermon was about the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant found in Matthew 18:21-35.  You asked me some questions about the sermon because it confused you and made you fearful; but since I had not yet heard the sermon, I felt that I could not respond until I had.  I just finished listening, and want to offer my thoughts.

 I will include the passage of scripture here for convenience:

²¹ Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” ²² Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.

²³ “Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. ²⁴ When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents.  And since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made. ²⁶ So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷ And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt. ²⁸ But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe.’ ²⁹ So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ ³⁰ He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. ³¹ When his fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their master all that had taken place. ³² Then his master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³ And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. ³⁵ So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”

For me, the key to understanding this passage is looking at the context in which Jesus told the story, which includes the question he was answering, the person to whom he was speaking and the point in history during which he spoke.

In the preceding verses, (Matthew 18:15-20) Jesus had given the steps which should be followed when a brother sins against you.  Jesus’ discourse prompted Peter to go up to him afterward and ask the question in verse 21, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” At the heart of it, Peter was asking Jesus to quantify, or actually codify, forgiveness.  In other words, he wanted Jesus to give him The Law of Forgiveness, so that he could follow it. 

Those of us who are living after Christ’s death and resurrection, and after the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost and began to illuminate, apply and interpret for us who Jesus was, what he did and why he did it, want to read this parable as if it was being told to us, with all of our knowledge of those things; but, it was being told to Peter during a time before Jesus died, while he knew only the Law, and was still laboring under the belief that he must obey and was capable of obeying it in order to please God.

Because Peter was asking Jesus to give him The Law of Forgiveness, thinking he could then obey it, Jesus did exactly what he did in the Sermon on the Mount, he broadened and deepened the concept of forgiveness to show Peter the impossibility of what he was thinking.

He began by telling Peter that his estimate of how many times he should be expected to forgive, which I’m sure Peter thought was generous, was actually pitiful.  Jesus told him the number wasn’t seven times, it was seventy-seven times, which didn’t really mean that at seventy-eight Peter could cut his brother off, it represented the idea of infinite forgiveness; forgiveness without limit.

Then he illustrated what he said by telling the parable to Peter; prior to his death and resurrection, prior to the illumination of the Holy Spirit regarding that death and resurrection.  He told the parable to Peter, who was trying to learn the rules so that he could keep them.  He told the story to Peter so that after Jesus’ death and resurrection, after Peter’s denial of Jesus, after the Holy Spirit interpreted the parable to him, he would remember and understand.

Because our minds are, by nature, as saturated by Law as Peter’s, when we read this parable we will always initially see it from that perspective. The King forgave this man an unimaginably vast debt.  It was obvious to everyone listening that the servant’s response to that amazing gift of mercy and forgiveness should have been to go out and do likewise; but, instead, against everything the listener knew to be right, the man went out and hunted down someone who owed him a few bucks, strangled him and threw him in prison until he could pay the debt.  The ungrateful servant is clearly a villain, and everyone listening to the parable then, and reading it now, understands the justice of what the King did in the end, when he withdrew his mercy and handed the servant over to the jailers, or, in the original Greek, the torturers, until his debt could be paid.  Then, after the parable, when Jesus says that God will do the same to all of us if we don’t forgive our brother from the heart, we are terrified, but there is nothing any of us can say.

We who know the story of salvation have nothing to say because anyone with a shred of self-awareness recognizes themselves as the unworthy servant.  We see that the story simply describes us. We are all capable of being grateful for the tremendous miracle of forgiveness which we have been given and being simultaneously unforgiving toward others; and we are so dim-witted we often don’t even recognize the incongruity of it at the time.  Through this parable we recognize our guilt and know that we deserve the same fate as the servant.  We see that, standing before the God who sent his Son to pay our monumental debt, we are without excuse.

That is what the law does, it diagnoses us; it strips us bare and exposes our sin so that our mouths are silenced.

That is what Jesus is intentionally doing to Peter and his desire to know the parameters of what was expected from him as far as forgiveness, because he thought he could do it.  Did Peter recognize himself in the story at that point? Probably not; because he did not know the Gospel yet.  But, after his denial of Jesus; after Jesus’ death and resurrection; after He was forgiven his own monumental debt; after Jesus’ ascension into heaven and after the Holy Spirit explained all that Jesus said and did, I’m sure that Peter finally understood.

This parable of Law did not end with the relief of the Gospel because Jesus himself had not yet fulfilled the Law and become the Good News.  But we who know the Good News can now see that the point of this parable is that no matter how well we are treated by anyone up to and including God, we will never be able to parlay that into a motivation strong enough to enable us to perfectly forgive our brother from the heart.  Despite all of the grace given to us, we will still dim-wittedly hunt down our debtors and hound them, even while we are yet within the shadow of the palace in which we received our forgiveness, because that is who we are.  If we are counting on ourselves to finally get it right and fulfill the Law of Forgiveness, we will fail and receive the only fate our efforts have earned and deserve.

Our only hope is to recognize our utter helplessness and total dependency on the forgiveness which God has given us because Christ was handed over to the torturers until our debt was paid in full.  Should we offer others the same mercy and forgiveness we have been given? Of course! Will we? Sometimes; hopefully increasingly. But, regardless, we can rest securely in the knowledge that God will not revoke his mercy and forgiveness to us in the face of our unfaithfulness because it is forever based solely on the faithfulness of his Son on our behalf.

Don’t be afraid, my dear friend, take comfort in this:  Because we are in Christ, “If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13.

Love Always,

Bonnie

Color Imbalance

Dear Old Friend,

I’ve had some very strange thoughts going on in my head this week!  They began when I re-posted one of my old blogs on Twitter.  The blog was entitled The Law of Love, loosely taken from James 2:8, and was basically about how Jesus has done everything necessary for our salvation; that it was secured for us at the cross by Christ alone, and that his desire for us now is to live a life of love for others; love that resembles the love we have been given.  I used the example of a teacher giving a student an A in their worst class.  The grade could not be changed, so the fear of failure was completely removed, but the teacher still wanted the student to learn the material, at their own speed, in their own way, and offered whatever help was needed to facilitate the process.  The blog ends with a list of scriptures about love.

The problem was, even though I believe what I wrote, I suddenly felt awkward about posting it because I was worried it could be perceived that I was saying we had to somehow add to what Jesus had done for us; that I didn’t believe it was finished when Jesus said it was finished.

I think I felt that way because all of us “Gospel Freaks” have similar stories. We were all raised in churches which taught that it wasn’t finished, and that we had to finish it.  In many cases there was the implied “or else” at the end of that sentence.  I have become so protective of the good news of grace which has set me free that I am extremely gun shy about anything which even hints of works righteousness.

This got me to thinking about a colorful analogy.  Let’s say that the ideal state is a correct balance of Law and Gospel, and its corresponding color is purple; and let’s say that Law is red and Gospel is blue.  You and I, and many I know, were fed a steady diet of red for many years, with possibly a dash of blue on rare occasions.  As a result, we are starved for blue; we crave it.  We grow nauseous at the very thought of red, fearfully and adamantly pushing away anything which might have even a hint of it.

This led me to think that what we were fed wasn’t actually genuine red; it was more like red dye #2, a phony and toxic red, which wasn’t the correct use of the Law at all, but a twisted version.  This led me to wonder if there could be such a thing as toxic blue, or whether unbalanced blue can itself become toxic.

That question brought to mind the Church in Corinth.  Paul called them “sanctified in Christ” and said that Christ would sustain them to the end, guiltless.  There was no hint, in his mind, that their salvation was in question; but, he wrote to them because they were basically running amok; possibly due to unbalanced blue. I’ve heard it said that there is no such thing as a person who is truly in Christ that would ever abuse grace; but, if Paul says in Romans 7 that sin can take something as holy, righteous and good as the Law and use it to produce sin in us, couldn’t grace be used in the same way?

It seems to me that perhaps what occurred in Corinth was that they took the concept, that nothing they could do or say would ever separate them from the love of God, and followed it to a distorted point where it became a mark of faith to boldly accept and even boast about behavior which made even pagans blush. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 5 that these Christian brothers were arrogant about something over which they should instead be mourning. His entire letter seems to be about balancing blue with true red, to bring them closer to a state of purple.

Martin Luther in his treatise Concerning Christian Liberty says, “A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to everyone.”  No good work, including love, gains us any merit as far as God is concerned.  All righteousness has been fulfilled on our behalf by his Son, once and for all.  The love that we aim to live out is for our neighbor, but I think it is also to keep us in balance. 

The life of grace, as I see it, is cyclical.  We are convicted of our sinfulness by the Law.  We are driven by our guilt to the cross.  We receive mercy and forgiveness for our sins.  We are compelled by grace to give to others the same love which we have been given.  We are convicted by the shallowness and imperfection of our love. We are driven by our need back to the cross. We receive mercy and assurance of our forgiveness.  Humbled and grateful, we are again compelled to give to others the love we have been given, and on and on….

It seems to me that both unbalanced Law and unbalanced Gospel will cause us to follow our natural tendency to turn inward on ourselves. Love, both the receiving and the giving, is the agent which keeps correcting our color imbalance.

On this earth I won’t ever be truly purple, but I’m leaving that process in God’s hands. I pray that God will help me grasp his love more fully every day and that his love will more truly flow through me to others.

Love Always,

Bonnie

 

 

Grace for Clown Hair

Dear Old Friend,

I'd like to say I have naturally curly hair.  The reality is that I have thin, frizzy, wavy hair which, when exposed to humidity, blows up into clown hair.  Just give me a red bulb nose and some white face paint and I’m set for the children’s party circuit.

As long as you’ve known me I’ve had this hair.  I was born with this hair.  Over the years I have tried many ways to appear as if I had sleek manageable tresses.  I’ve cut my hair so short that there wasn’t enough of it to poof out uncontrollably.  I’ve used endless hair products which promised to tame the frizz.  I’ve tried various electrical gadgets in an attempt to calm the waves. I’ve even ironed my hair! Some of the methods seemed to work, but only temporarily, and by the end of the day my hair has always begun to revert to its natural state.

I’m not sure which branch of the family to blame, but I feel certain that I inherited my unruly locks from one of my ancestors.  I had no say in the matter and, to my knowledge, there isn’t even a hair transplant which could give me a different head of hair; one which I would not have to fight every single day.

It occurs to me that our human nature, which the Apostle Paul refers to as our flesh, is a lot like my hair.  We work hard each day to tame it enough that we will not be too embarrassed in public; but, no matter how hard we try or what programs we follow, certainly by the time we go to bed at night we find that we have reverted to our natural state, to one degree or another.

We not only blame our ancestors for our tendencies, we blame any and everything else: society, culture, our dysfunctional upbringing, our educational system, the Democrats, the Republicans.  But, in reality, while some of those outside influences may compound our problems, the underlying issue remains our default fallen natures.

We have a This-For-That mentality; a sense of entitlement: If I do this I should get that. It is the part of us which craves recognition and power; which doesn’t just want to win; it secretly wants the satisfaction of knowing someone else loses.  It is that thing in us which compares and competes, judges and condemns, uses and discards; that wants credit for earning what we have and despises dependence as weakness while valuing independence as strength.

Conversely, it is also the part of us that fears we don’t measure up and drives us to outrun the feelings of unworthiness; the voice that taunts us, telling us that, whatever we do, it will never be enough. 

This nature is universal. We are born with it and we keep it until we leave this earth.  Biblically speaking it is the reason Paul says in Ephesians 2:5 and Colossians 2:13 that we all are dead in our sins.  No matter what we do, we don’t  get a new nature in this world; we can’t even successfully tame it; we daily try and revert; try and revert.

So, if this is true of the entire human race, what are the implications for Christians; those to whom the Holy Spirit has delivered the counterintuitive good news of our resurrection from the death which was our condition due to our This-For-That natures; What about those of us who have come to love the glorious truth that Jesus Christ came to earth with no sense of entitlement, no craving for recognition or power and took upon himself all of the judgment and condemnation which we deserved; and, through his life, death and resurrection, gave us his perfect record in place of our despicable one? Will we be empowered now to overcome our natures?

Despite the fact that we long with all of our hearts to be able to respond to his incomprehensible gift by rendering perfect obedience in return, we cannot.  Our hair will still frizz and our waves will escape.  We will still crave recognition and power, we will still compare and compete, judge and condemn; we will still fear that we don’t measure up and that nothing we do will ever be enough.  What value, then, is there in being a Christian?

Those who believe in the Grace of Christ have been given a new way of thinking which is the only effective weapon we can use in combat against our flesh. It is the Everything-For-Nothing way of thinking, which comes from outside of us. We cannot conjure it up on our own; it is the Way of the Spirit: The voice of the Holy Spirit testifying of Christ, telling us day by day, minute by minute, that we are forgiven, that we are not condemned, that we are loved, that we cannot and do not have to earn or deserve God’s love, that everything has been done for us, that everything has been paid for in full, that it is finished.

The Spirit's voice of assurance, that Jesus gave us Everything for Nothing, speaks to us in Scripture, in seasons of prayer, in sermons, in the sacraments, in songs of worship and praise, in the grace-filled words of other believers; in community.  

Through the Spirit, we, as believers, are given the privilege of being that voice for each other: that voice which drowns out the cacophony of our natures and encourages us to look to our Savior, rather than at our failures. Changes for the better will only occur in us as we focus on his unconditional love for us and not on ourselves.

We need to be reminded that his mercies are new every morning, because every morning our hair is a mess.

I’m so thankful that you and I keep giving that assurance to each other!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Let's Talk About Being Good

Dear Old Friend,

I've just spent the past nine glorious days primarily playing with my three year old grandson. What a joy! He has such a delightful imagination. He invented games like Mama Tiger and Baby Tiger and Ghost Chasing Lion (and then the reverse). We built many towers with blocks, but the blocks all had to be carried into the closet because we had to hide in there while we constructed our masterpieces.

One of his favorite games of all was Being Bad. The rules of that game varied, but the idea was that at least one of us (usually both) had to "be bad", which consisted mainly of our being generally disagreeable. One of us would (usually  loudly) tell the other to do something and the other would refuse to do it and then would tell the first person to do something. The more pouty and obstinate we were, the more he loved it! 

After a few minutes of trying to "out bad" each other, I would suggest that, perhaps, now we should be good; but, his typical response was, "No, be bad, Grammie!" So, I would briefly comply and then bring up the idea again. He would always vigorously shake his head and say, "No. Just bad."

It occurred to me that, no matter the age, there is just something so tantalizing about being bad. We want to dabble in the forbidden, which seems to sparkle in comparison to the boring "good". The fact of the matter is that Romans 3:12 tells us no one is good, not even one. Our fatal attraction to evil is a part of our very natures.

Verse 11 tells us that no one seeks for God. There is nothing innate which will prompt a desire within us to turn to God. That desire must come from outside; and is prompted solely  by the Spirit of God, calling us to turn from all of the dazzling emptiness and shiny broken promises of this world's order, to the only One who loved the Good and unwaveringly chose it every time, because we could not.

Jesus took all of our badness as his own, and credits us with his goodness; and, as that glorious truth sinks deeply into our souls it becomes the most attractive thing we have encountered in our lives! Its dazzling beauty fills us with continuous wonder, and we can't seem to get our fill. It never grows old or boring. It never ceases to amaze us and to cause us to bow in humble, grateful adoration.

No amount of encouragements to Be Good, or warnings about Being Bad can do that! Only the Holy Spirit telling us, day after day, the good news of what God has done for us through his son has the ability to help us see badness for what it really is, remove the allure, and turn us to the only One who has ever been Good.

I still need to hear that every day!

Love Always,

Bonnie 

Just Grateful

 

Dear Old Friend,

In a way, for me, Easter Week is more like the end of the old year and the beginning of the new one than New Years. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus are what everything else in my world revolves around. That sounds so holy of me, doesn’t it? It’s really not.  I recently told another friend that the reason I am so consumed by grace is because I know how utterly hopeless I am without it.  I think you can probably measure the depth of one’s perceived guilt by the degree of his or her desperation for grace. Anyway, that’s true enough for me.

Since my life in retail has kept me from ever being able to spend the actual New Year’s holiday with family outside of my local area, it has been such a blessing for me to spend this special week with my daughter and son-in-law, getting acquainted with my brand new baby grandson and having lots of time to play with my three year old grandson; a Grammie’s dream! I have no proufound thoughts to share this week. It’s just that having this time to reflect has made me grateful.

I’m grateful for this Grace Pilgrimage on which God has led me for about 35 years.  I went from thinking I was so slow that I must be the last person on the planet to grasp the concept of grace, to thinking that Steve Brown was the only other person who saw what I saw in scripture and that maybe we were both crazy; and then he was taken off the radio in my area!  Thankfully, God gave me beacons of grace along the way; pastors whose light shone on my path just long enough to keep me heading in the right direction, and who then moved on.

I’m grateful that God opened the door for a ministry to the teens in my church, and that I was allowed to use scripture as my “curriculum”, which motivated me to study in order to teach what I found.  Those precious kids went on my pilgrimage with me, and I can only hope that I blessed their lives even a fraction as much as I was blessed by every single one of them over the years!

I’m grateful that God kept my own children from being completely driven away from him by my terribly imperfect parenting. I sometimes fear that the only thing I modeled well was a parent’s desperate need for grace in the face of failures; I’m still modeling that and praying that God will use it somehow, even now.

I’m grateful for the precious friends, like you, which God has placed in my life, who know me, warts and all, and who will drop everything to pray for me and encourage me when I am side-tracked by fear and doubt, and for whom I can do the same.

I’m also grateful for the new and growing group of friends I am discovering through social media, who share my same passion for the Good News: That when God said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”, he feels the same way about me, because I am in Christ; and, that when Jesus said “It is Finished” he meant it! What a blessing to not feel alone anymore and to have access to the constant banquet of their new insights and understandings which they excitedly share throughout each day. Such encouragement!

But, most of all, of course, I’m grateful for my Lord and Savior, who saw my hopeless plight, the plight of us all, and came to do everything for us because we could not do anything for ourselves. He became for us our righteousness, holiness and redemption (1 Cor.1:30).  He became sin for us so that we could become the righteousness of God. (2 Cor. 5:21).  He lifted me out of my 'This for That' world into his economy of 'Everything for Nothing'. He does not demand anything from me in return for his priceless gift; and, because of that, I want to give him every frail and feeble part of me to use as he sees fit.

Hallelujah, what a Savior! Happy Easter!

Love Always,

Bonnie

For the Pure Joy

               

Dear Old Friend,

This past weekend my son took my five year old grandson to a skating rink for the very first time, and let me tag along. 

There was great excitement during the lacing of the skates; then, my son took a turn around the rink by himself, to make sure his body actually remembered what to do before he attempted to take his son with him. My grandson could barely contain himself while waiting for his time to go out on the floor.  

Of course, at age five, he imagined that he would somehow just know what to do, and when he did finally get on the floor it was a shock to discover that, not only did he have no idea how to keep his balance on wheeled feet, it was also hard, death-defying work, even with his father holding onto him; and, within a few minutes he was overwhelmed and ready to give up. 

However, after a brief period of recuperation in the chair next to me he was lured back up on his feet by the promise of a skate-walking trip with his dad, on the indoor/outdoor carpet, to the glass display case which held candy and trinkets. Because he was thinking about where he was going and not what he was doing, he actually did pretty well; and, with his confidence level up, he was willing to give the rink another shot.  He wasn’t out there very long, though, before the announcement was made that it was time to clear the floor for the races.

When the first group of children about my grandson's age lined up to race, my son explained to him what was going on, and suddenly my grandson became terrified.  He stretched out his arm, with his hand waving in protest, and declared with tearful vehemence that he was not going. Both my son and I immediately reassured him that, of course, we didn’t expect him to go out on the floor and race; but he remained convinced that someone was going to try to make him do this, and he watched with great concern as the children zoomed around the rink.  

When the next age group was announced and more children took their places, my grandson again stuck out his hand to ward off anyone who might attempt to force him to do what he knew he could not do.  His fear overwhelmed him and he hid his face in his father’s side.  It took a lot of comforting and explaining before he finally believed that he was safe, and he was able to relax.

That scene kept replaying in my mind this week because I realized that I experience the exact same crippling fear my precious grandson felt, every time I hear a sermon, or read a book, or even when I read a passage of scripture through the lens of Law rather than Gospel, which makes me feel like God is expecting and even requiring me to do something which I know I can’t do. I feel small, vulnerable and like my very life hangs in the balances.  I cry and wave my hand, in what I fear is vain protest, as my heart sinks and I begin to quake.

But, blessedly, God always wraps his arms around me and whispers words of comfort and assurance to me.  Over and over he tells me the story of his son, and how he came to perfectly do for me what I could never do for myself; and how he took the record of all the scrapes and falls from my failed attempts and made them his own. He tells me that, because of Jesus, I never have to be afraid of whether or not I am going to win or lose a race, because I do not have to race.  The race has been won for me.  The pressure is off.  He teIls me until I believe I am safe and I can relax.

Then he tells me that, because of Jesus, I am now free to learn how to run, dance, and even skate, gleefully, without fear of failure or condemnation.  I can do those things for the pure joy of them, as acts of exuberant worship and gratitude for the freedom and love given to me; and I can invite others to join me in the celebration.

Let’s go skating!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Triggers of Terror

 

Dear Old Friend,

This week has been excruciating.  There are certain circumstances which are guaranteed to send me into a full blown death spiral. I’ve come to think of them as my Triggers of Terror.  Those triggers are specifically related to my children, who are now adults, and extend to my grandchildren.  If I perceive my loved ones are in danger, that their health, safety or well-being is under serious attack, I go into panic mode. For years I have considered starting a Mothers of Adult Children support group, because I really need one!  The funny thing is, every time I mention that idea in passing, every mother of adult children within hearing distance nods enthusiastically and tells me they would come, so I know I’m not the only one.

What I mean by “death spiral” is that this panic causes me to frantically plead with God to “fix” whatever is causing the threat, and quickly deteriorates into demanding that he act immediately to make it go away, then slides down the slippery slope to anger and finally into doubting his goodness. I say “finally”, but, sadly, that process isn’t a long one; I arrive at “finally” in short order! I spent a good part of this week at “finally”.

Thankfully, all the while that my “flesh”, as Paul says in scripture, was spiraling, my spirit had its own agenda.  I am blessed to have a couple of friends, like you, who I called and asked to pray; friends I knew would tell me of God’s goodness, sovereignty and grace; friends who “talked me down off the ledge” by reminding me that God, because of Jesus, was not holding my fear against me; friends who promised to have faith for me because I couldn’t.

And I couldn’t. My spirit was willing, but my flesh was ridiculous! No matter how much I told myself that God was in control and loved my family more than I did, and that he knew what was best, I couldn’t tone down the panic.  I kept trying to figure out the right way to combat the circumstances so that I could “help”, but my fear led me first one way and then another in confusion. I wanted to peacefully trust, but the terror had taken on a life of its own.

Over the years, there have been times when my prayers have taken the form of an internal dialogue with God.  I don’t hear an audible voice or anything like that, but there is a knowing that God is speaking truth to me, because suddenly my perspective is changed.  While I was driving to work one morning this week, and I was silently railing to God about how people who wielded power over this troubling situation were trying to impose their will, thinking that they knew what was best when they didn’t, I felt God asking me if I thought that I truly knew what was best in this situation. I humbly acknowledged that I did not.  Then he asked me if I thought that he did, and I said yes.  Then, he told me that I needed to stop trying to impose my own fear and confusion onto the situation, and just step aside and let him handle things, because he was bigger and more powerful than the power wielding people and the circumstances.

I was reminded that, as a young adult, I had never expected or wanted my mother to take the lead in figuring out what I needed to do; that I had shared my concerns with her, but that, ultimately, it had never entered my mind that she was responsible for “fixing” things.  It was during my struggles that I developed my own relationship with God, and learned that he alone was my source of help.  I saw that I needed to allow that process to happen for my children.  I needed to get out of the way, and when I was tempted to try to direct the show, I needed to point to God.

I told God, then, that I could see I had made my children into idols, in the sense that, when troubles arose for them, I put my desire for their peace, comfort and happiness in front of what God intended for them.  God then told me that, while that sounded almost noble, the real truth was that it wasn’t my children that I had made into idols, it was my own need to be perceived as a good mother that I had made into an idol, and that I had to let go of the desire to be the heroic mom who rides in and saves the day.  Those days, if they ever really existed when my children were little (and they never really did), were gone.

Ouch; but, Whew! As I was put in my place, it suddenly became a relief to acknowledge that God was in charge and that, not only did I not have to be, I was not supposed to be, and didn’t need to be. I exhaled.  The existing situation did not change, but my perspective did.

Will I be forever changed and never fall prey to my triggers again? Oh, how I hope and pray that is the case! But, whether or not it is, I know that my fear does not change the fact that God is lovingly and sovereignly in control of my life and the lives of those I love; and, that even if he has to remind me of that truth every single day for the rest of my life, he does not hold my weaknesses against me.

Please keep praying.

Love Always,

Bonnie

What Do I Do? What Do I Do?

Dear Old Friend,

Do you think there are situations where it would actually be wrong to “lead” with grace?  I’ve been pondering lots of questions this week.  If someone has gone off the deep end and done something which people would typically consider to be very bad; something which brought pain to you or harmed those you love; could it be detrimental to jump right in and tell them you forgive them, and talk to them about God’s love, mercy and grace, without first attempting to determine whether they were crushed by what they had done, or merely sorry that they were caught?

Is it possible that, by offering grace to someone who isn’t truly sorry, we might short circuit a necessary process and therefore keep that person from experiencing a need for forgiveness? Should sorrow for one’s actions always be a prerequisite to offering forgiveness?

Was Jesus’ dying request for his Father to forgive his murderers, who were definitely not sorry for what they were yet in the process of doing, meant to be peculiar only to a Savior? Was his admonition, to turn the other cheek when one was struck and to give more to the thief than what was intentionally stolen, just a metaphor to demonstrate the impossibility of reaching that standard? Or was it also a call to love as radically as we have been loved?  

What about loving our enemies in light of the fact that Christ died for us while we were still his unrepentant enemies? Again, is that only Jesus fulfilling on my behalf what I can never do, or is it something his Spirit urges me to imitate, albeit poorly?

Could concern for a perpetrator be construed as demonstrating a lack of concern for the ones who were hurt by his/her actions? Should that be taken into consideration before reaching out? Are there times when we should take sides, and not reach out to “the other side”?

What if I am the one who has been hurt: how far should I be willing to go in loving and forgiving my enemies, or those who have treated me badly?  Do I repeatedly put myself back in harm’s way? Is there a line that can/should be drawn? Do I need to be concerned about the opinion of others as to how I answer that question for myself?

All of these questions have been rolling around in my brain.  They don’t have easy answers.  I am certain that across my life I have erred on all sides of these issues.  What I feel God has said to me, as I wrestled with my thoughts this week, is that I am free to err as I muddle through each and every situation I find myself facing.  I am free to do what I think is best, and free to change my mind about what is best, and free to be confused.  I am assured through it all that I am, thankfully, not the one who is in control of anything, and that the God who is in control, and who loves everyone involved and works for their best through any and all circumstances, is big enough and powerful enough to work all things to his glory, whether it’s through me or in spite of me.  There is, in other words, no way that I can trip God up by doing the wrong thing. He’s got it. He’s got it. He’s got it.

I Thank God that He’s got it!

Love always,

Bonnie

Obedience: His Not Mine

Dear Old Friend,

In your ardent desire to understand the truth in regards to Grace and what God requires of us, you have often brought up the question of obedience: Doesn't God still expect us to obey?

You and I were both raised in a church which stressed the importance of obedience to God’s commands.  We were taught that obedience was a requirement for salvation. We were told that we might not be perfect, but that God expected us to try relentlessly to reach that standard; and, on judgment day, he would determine our fitness for heaven based on our record of obedience. Jesus covered any sins we had committed before we became Christians, but from that point on, we knew God was watching us to see how we measured up. 

In Church and in the Bible classes in our church school, we learned what happened when people didn't obey. When Adam and Eve ate one little piece of fruit they were kicked out of the Garden of Eden and could no longer associate personally with God.  We saw that, because people became so disobedient, God decided to destroy everyone but Noah and his family, and start over.  Lot's wife glanced back at her burning home and was turned into a pillar of salt!  

We studied the Children of Israel and saw that, frequently, when they voiced a complaint about their circumstances, God struck them with poisonous snakes or some other dire punishment.  Even Moses, who put up with so much for so long from the Israelites, in the end wasn’t allowed to enter the Promised Land simply because, instead of speaking to the rock as God directed him, he disobeyed and struck the rock twice, in anger at the rebellious people.  One infraction and God wouldn’t let him go in.

We were raised on Bible stories of disobedient people getting leprosy or being burned up, or where the ground opened up and swallowed them along with their entire families.  Poor Uzzah, who was accompanying the Ark of the Covenant back to its rightful place after it was retrieved from those who had stolen it, reached out to steady the Ark as it teetered precariously on the cart where it was riding, and God struck him dead because he disobeyed the command not to touch the Ark.

The fact that God takes obedience seriously was deeply ingrained in us; and, the moral of the story, implied in all of those lessons, was that if we disobeyed we shouldn’t expect God to cut us any more slack than he did for the people in the stories.

Oh, we were told “the good news” about the verses where God describes himself as being loving, merciful, patient, kind, forgiving, compassionate and long-suffering, but we knew he only felt that way about the “good” people; those who obeyed more than they disobeyed.  But inside we wondered just how much more you had to obey than disobey before you qualified as “good”.

Now, after all these years, I realize that, as bleakly as the picture of God's expectations was painted for us, in reality, it wasn’t painted bleakly enough; and because of that, the good news we got wasn’t really good news, either!

The hard truth is, the reason for all of those stories, beginning with one little piece of fruit, was to demonstrate, through many different circumstances in many different ways, that God’s commands are absolute and immutable.  There is not one smidgeon of mercy incorporated into his demands.  There is no wiggle room.  There are no acceptable excuses.  There are no satisfactory extenuating circumstances which will allow for His looking the other way over even the tiniest act of disobedience.  The Law is the Law and the Law must be obeyed. Period.  For the smallest of infractions, God has the sovereign right to bring down the full wrath of the Law upon the transgressor. 

Scripture clearly says that God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow; therefore, what was true of the God of the Old Testament is still true of Him today. He always has and always will require absolute obedience at all times in every way.

In other words, when it comes to the Law, to borrow a line from Yoda in Star Wars, “There is no try.”  You and I, however, were told that we were required to try and that God would look for the sincerity and desire displayed in our efforts, and because of his mercy, etc, he would judge us by those things. That was a terrible lie! 

God could not and would not lower his standard to make up for our deficiencies.  If he could have done that, he would have done it immediately after Adam chewed and swallowed! His laws are unconditional and unchangeable, and every jot and tittle had to remain in force until they were completely fulfilled, by being perfectly obeyed.

The problem was, that not one single human from the line of Adam was ever going to be able to obey God to the required degree.  Because of that fact, only a member of the God-head himself could become a human and meet the requirements; so Christ came and perfectly fulfilled every bit of the Law on our behalf, and took the full wrath of the Law which we deserved.  When we have accepted him as our Savior, all obedience has been accomplished for us.  The life we now live we live by faith in his finished work. 

So, what about us; what about our “obedience”? Our acts of love and worship which we offer in response to the incredible gift which has been freely given to us could never qualify as the obedience which God requires.  We would be lying to ourselves and others if we thought and said that we are “obedient” in any other way than the way in which the New Testament primarily speaks of obedience: as “obeying the truth”, which means to believe in the finished work of Jesus; and then, even the ability to believe is not our own, but is a gift from God!

Of course, the Holy Spirit will draw us to love God and others and call us to demonstrate that love through our actions; and, in our humanity, we will try and fail and try again to do what he prompts us to do; but, our salvation is not dependent, in any sense whatsoever, on whether or how well we do what we are prompted to do.

Our salvation is only and always dependent on the doing and dying of Jesus Christ; his obedience alone, never ours!

WooHoo! I have to go and do a little glory dance after that! God is Good! Amen and Hallelujah, my friend!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Worry and Grace

 

Dear Old Friend,

I have been anxious about many things this week, in direct opposition to what scripture says I should do.  Worry and I go way back.  

I have probably always equated worry with caring.  If I care about someone and I become aware of an issue which has the potential to threaten their safety or happiness, it would seem uncaring of me not to worry, so I label it “concern”; but because it definitely involves elements of fear and dread, it’s really just worry.  And then, of course, I worry about my own safety and happiness, and there's no euphemism for that. I'm a worrier.

The good thing about it, I reason, is that my worry leads me to pray.  I acknowledge before God my helplessness to control or alter the threatening circumstances, and I ask for God’s intervention on behalf of myself and/or those I love.  But, always, in the back of my mind, I hear this nagging  voice telling me that worry is a sin and that if I truly believed and had faith in God and his sovereignty I wouldn’t have that gut-wrenching, heart palpitating fear I’m experiencing. In other words, I’m caught between thinking that worry is the evidence of my caring, as well as the evidence of my lack of faith.  This dilemma generates more worry and more guilt; and on and on it goes.

This week, however, I had a new insight. I went back and reread the passages in scripture which speak so clearly about worry, Matthew 6:25-34 and Philippians 4:6-7.  Both of those scriptures use the words “Do not”: “Do not be anxious”, “Do not worry”.  My law oriented mind has always heard those words as a command, and therefore I could not help but see my worry as a disobedience of the command, which then resulted in feelings of guilt. 

But this time, I read those words, not as law, but as grace; as words of reassurance just like those I have spoken to my own children when I told them not to worry because they were afraid of the dark, or of a new school, or were worried that no one would ever love them, or that they couldn’t handle their lives.  This time I read those words not as a rule to be followed, but as God's comfort and encouragement given so that we could face the struggles which life will inevitably bring.  Were there times when I got exasperated with my children because of their continued anxiety in the face of my reassurances?  Sure; but, thankfully, God is not like me! 

God knows that life on this planet will throw seemingly endless troubling circumstances our way; things which will cause us, in our humanity, to be anxious and fearful; and he isn’t standing with his arms crossed and his foot tapping in agitation over the fact that we have once more disappointed him by our lack of faith.  Because of Jesus’ perfect righteousness credited to us, we do not stand before him condemned by the Law of Do Not Worry.  Instead, he speaks softly to us with soothing words of hope and assurance; words of grace: Don’t be afraid, I am with you, I will take care of you even through the terrible times, I love you, and I always will.

What a relief to cross worry off the list of things I have to worry about!

Love Always,

Bonnie