A Different Kind of Works

Sorry, I've got to talk a little about history to preface this. Before the Catholic Church, we've got the Jewish Christians who are corrupting the gospel of Jesus by propagating the idea that salvation comes from the outworkings of the Law. I think it was so popular because it allows people to gauge their level of salvation and to plume themselves above others. Paul counters this by making the profound point that salvation is the gift of God, not obtained through works.

Protestant Christianity is the result of a reaction against the Roman Catholic Church in some year a while ago. Don't ask me dates. The Catholic Church was purporting the theologically absurd idea that salvation can be acquired through people's actions. Same deal, different form. Implicit in that way of thinking is the belief that God's grace can be earned. It's preposterous because it's impossible. Unless you're perfect. And you're not.

So, much of the Protestant (protesting against Catholicism) Church is focused on salvation as the free gift of God. Which sometimes creates a problem because there's the element of God's grace that empowers us to live lives that are pure, holy, and godly, so the Christian life should be morally pure, but expounding on that tension is another topic altogether. Anyway, what I've seen recently is an attempt to oversimplify, and thus destroy, the gospel.

Some churches get caught up in the idea of loving people. That becomes the focus. They make it really simple to be a follower of Jesus. You just love people, and there you go, problem solved. Through that you can find Jesus, through that you're really following Jesus. And it's easy to advert to passages that talk about love. But here we are again. Making it about what we do.

Granted, this way is simple. This way is comprehensible and straightforward. But sometimes mystery is not a tergiversation, but the truth. Only through Christ can we love. Going out and loving people is not the answer, Jesus is. He is our locus, and from this relationship comes a centrifugal outpouring of love for God and people. The free gift of salvation and the redemption of our souls makes this possible. Let us never make our life about our own faculties, but about what the spirit of God in us does to us and through us.

I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. Galations 2:20
We love because he first loved us. - 1 John 4:19

Our Story Isn't Ours

We're all a part of a metanarrative that is unfolding before us, and has been unfolding since the creation of the world. It's the story of humanity. Every person - past, present, and future - has a role in how the story plays out. The author of this story, as with most stories, knows the end from the beginning, but the story itself is dynamic, shaped by the decisions the characters make, shaped by us. Though able to control every aspect of the story, the author gives the characters their own volition, and thus, the ability to influence the plot.


It's easy for us to lose our place as a character in the story. Sometimes, we think that the story is our story. That life is about us. It's so easy to make life about us. In a self-centered world, it only makes sense that the whole of the story would center around us. And we begin to believe that. We begin to believe that we are the main character of our story, and it leaves us indigent.

When we're the main characters of our stories, our world is small. We can only see a very small portion of what is real, true, and beautiful. We cut ourselves off from having a life that is full of meaning and wholeness, choosing instead to live a jejune life. By choosing to be the most important character in our story, we lose ourselves. We become empty people living empty lives in an empty world.

The truth is that the author of the story is the main character. Not only do we find His imprint on every character in this story, but He has inserted himself into the story and made himself the centerpiece of human history. He is the amalgamator of the narratives of our separate lives, bringing them together to create the metanarrative of which we're all a part.

It is only when we acknowledge who the main character is and that our role in the story is nugatory, that we find ourselves. We quit living for ourselves, and allow the author to take control. Our world becomes much bigger, much better, when we are inset in the context of the overarching story. Our ephemeral lives become infused with meaning, beauty, joy, love, and life itself. We learn that every good and perfect gift is not what we attain by our selfish exertions for what we want, but from the author of life. In light of the glory, power, and love of our Author, let us abjure from ever impudently situating ourselves as the main character of our lives.

Unveiled

Dropping out of college this semester was one of the best things I've ever done. It's allowed me to spend some introspection time looking at myself, how I live, and what drives me and seeing if my inner reality coalesces with that which I believe to be actual reality. And I'm a follower of Jesus, so I believe that what the Bible says to be actual reality, is.

One thing I've seen in Scriptures that's been apposite to my own life is the exhortation to live a life that is exposed. To refrain completely from covering things up. To be unveiled and allow the glory of Christ in me to shine forth. Even when it has to shine through all the muck for people to see it. But I don't do this. I live a recondite life.

Why don't I live a life laid bare before all? I'm not entirely sure. Sometimes it doesn't feel like the best thing. Sometimes I'm just not quite sure what it really looks like. Sometimes I don't think that doing so will be the best way to attract people to Jesus (and *obviously* that's my job). Mostly, I think I'm scared and selfishly motivated.

I'm not that good of a person. It's easy to say that... when I'm talking in generalities. It's when I elaborate on what that means, when I extrapolate the specifics from the generalities that my heart cringes at its turpitude, and fears surface. What if I lived unveiled, renouncing secret and shameful ways, commending myself to every man's conscience?

Then people would know. And don't want them to see me. I don't want them to see my twisted motivations, the judgmental thoughts I have toward Christians, the deceit I use to sometimes look better, the way I too often live passionlessly - averring it to be determined devotion rather than the lack of love it actually is, the lust of my past and intermittent temptations of the present, my self-hatred, my poor relationships, my hubris, my self-protective behavior, and all the other crap that covers my soul. It's the sin that dims the glory. Why? Because I let it.

I just don't want to any longer. I hide too much, not always intentionally, but I don't deliberately let myself come through. If I want the glorious light of Christ to evince itselt in my external life, my sin is going to be exposed. And I want to allow people to see the joy, life, passion, contentment, wholeness, hope, and love that God has produced in me.

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
Truly, any light coming from me is one shining out of darkness. Only Jesus.

Desire

Desire is the driving force behind a preponderance of human behavior. Chew on that for a second. If you’re hungry, you want food. If you’re thirsty, you want water. If you’re bored, you want something to do. If you’re lonely, you want someone to be with. Between perceived need and action there is a desire. And that desire drives our action. People go after what they want.

In most life situations our desires conflict with one another. Our action is determined by which desire is the strongest. Something in us has to acquiesce. Antithetical, or even discordant, desires cannot both be satisfied. But ultimately, people do what they want at the moment they have to choose between multiple desires. That is why it is so important to know what we want in life, and to want it more than everything. Whimsically acting on the desires of the moment will lead us in a broad, anarchic path that leads us to nothing.

We want too many things too much, and they add up to too little. There are so many things to want in this world: good grades, money, fame, respect, intelligence, being right, being noticed, sex, friends, a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a better parent, a family, free time, entertainment, someone else’s life, and the list continues to the point of infinity. I believe that a lot of these things are worthwhile, but I also believe that if we get caught up in wanting all these divergent things our life will be meandering and bring us to destruction.

I think that the answer to this problem, that of a capricious life yanked to and fro by vacillating wants, is to find a superlative desire that renders every other longing subservient. And then, when we find this one thing worth wanting more than anything else, we go after it. We let that focused passion drive the entirety of our lives. If we do this, we’ll find life is a lot easier to live, decisions a lot simpler, and everything we do becomes infused with meaning because we’re intent upon pursuing what we deem to be the most valuable thing in existence.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it. – Matthew 14:45-46

Fearless Submission

Humility has often felt like the option the feeble and reticent choose out of necessity. The man of boldness and brawn chooses to administrate his own life. However, I’ve become utterly convinced that humble submission to Jesus is the most intrepid move a person can make. In giving deference to the Lord, we discover ourselves facing, head on, every fear we have.

Consider the idea of being wholly submissive to one person, in this case, Jesus. Your life is theirs to control. Your fears don't matter. You are forced to live more courageously than you ever have, because now, you can't avoid anything. If God asks you to express your beliefs in a group of condemnatory people, not an uncommon situation in the university setting, you have to. If you're asked to confront a best friend or, worse, a respected leader, about their lives, you must. If Christ calls you to cut off a relationship with a girlfriend or boyfriend, then, though it terrifies and pains you, it's obligatory.

Now, I realize that I gave the impression that free will becomes essentially nonexistent here. That's not true, for if the ability to choose is eliminated, then fears become irrelevant. The reality is that even after "accepting Jesus" as the Lord of our lives, we still retain our volition and the choice to surrender ourselves to Him presents itself an indefinite number of times everyday. And when we are required to act on something that creates a great guttural unease, igniting physical or social fears in us, it necessitates bravery beyond what we've ever needed in choosing capitulation.

So, the life of the follower of Jesus looks audacious. From the outside, it looks fearless. On the inside, it is gradually becoming that way. God works in us to will His will and to act accordingly. When Jesus truly is Lord, in our hearts and in the outworkings of our hearts, fear dissipates from every part of our lives, because our God is bigger and His will better… than anything, than everything. To get to this point, however, it takes an inordinate amount of determined courage and faith.

Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a matter worthy of the gospel. Then... I will know that you stand firm in one spirit, contending as one man for the faith of the gospel, not being afraid in any way by those who oppose you. This will be a sign to them that they will be destroyed, but that you will be saved. - Philippians 1

A Real Life Blog For Me

Whelp, I suppose step 1 is importing everything I already posted on facebook...