Author Archives: Chris Locke

Thumper, Ellie, and Lessons of the Father’s Goodness

Posted on by under Musing Out Loud

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As some of you may know, Thumper passed away this past April after 8 years with our family. It was pretty rough. I felt like I had lost one of my best friends. At the same time, I didn’t know what to think about her death. The Bible didn’t seem to talk much about animals or pets, at least to my knowledge. And while I couldn’t rule it out completely, I was hard-pressed to argue that I’d see Thumper again in heaven. Theologically and Biblically, it seemed Thumper’s death was a non-event.

But how, I wondered, could something that felt so personally significant seem so theologically insignificant? And, more broadly, how should I think about pets–their lives and their deaths–in a Biblical and God honoring way?

I’m not sure if I’ve answered those questions in this post, but here are some of my scrambled musings from these past few months:

Saying Thank You for a Timely Gift:

Thumper’s death was sudden and unexpected. There was no time to brace myself or even to say goodbye. In the days following, I found myself wishing I could see her for just a few moments to give her a big hug and tell her ‘thank you’. Yes, I know that’s corny, and yes, she’s a dog who doesn’t understand English. But I really felt like she had been a huge blessing in my life and I wished I could tell her that.

I’ve written in the past about my struggles with loneliness (here and here), insecurity (here), and doubt (here). Thumper helped me in very real ways during some of those seasons of deep discouragement. Sometimes just the presence of a friend can lift the fog of loneliness and Thumper was often that constant companion. She was always eager to play or lie quietly by my side. She was there to greet me with a wagging tail and a smile after a long day. When Katie took my room and relocated me to the couch, she was my roommate sleeping next to me on her big red chair. With her, I never had to worry about measuring up, fitting in, or feeling like I had to think up something interesting to say. I could be myself. She made time at home restful and enjoyable. She was there for the countless dogwalks I spent praying or wrestling through a tough question. It was always comforting afterwards to look down and see her happily panting beside me.

What was I to do with that gratitude? It felt like a waste not to be able to express it in some meaningful way. Ultimately, I realized my desire to thank Thumper was misplaced–it reflected my human tendency to make much of creation, rather than the Creator. Unlike Thumper, God hears my prayers and deserves my praise. He gave me Thumper as a gift of common grace to help me through difficult seasons, just as he had orchestrated countless other people, events, and conversations to sustain me these past 8 years.

As a Christian, I know my thanksgiving is never wasted. I can always give thanks to my infinitely wise Father–for big things like salvation, and also for more ordinary things, like a dear pet. Nothing is too small a reason to give thanks to God. Thank you Father!

Called to a Greater Love by the Greatest Love:

I’ve heard pastors talk about video games as fake war and pornography as fake love. Video games give the adrenaline of heroism without the danger of real battle, while pornography grants the pleasure of sex without the sacrifice or commitment of a real relationship. The end result, the argument goes, is a whole generation that wants instant and easy gratification, without any cost.

That’s a subject for a different post, the point I want to make is that if we’re not careful, I think something similar can happen with our pets: they can become a source of easy and non-costly love that replaces the costly love of human relationships. Christoph sums it up best in ‘Reindeers are better than people’ (or if you prefer Eeyore:  Donkey’s are better than people):

Reindeers are better than people
Sven, don’t you think that’s true?

Yeah, people will beat you
And curse you and cheat you
Every one of them’s bad except you

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He’s right! Pets are easier to love than people. Relationships are messy and require work. People do hurt you. They have problems and annoying quirks.  They’re tiring. They bring out your insecurities. Pets, on the other hand, are furry and cute and always happy to see you. They can give the affection and loyal companionship we seek in relationships, while demanding far less than their human counterparts. I’m not saying pets are bad, just that if we’re not careful, we can take something good, like a pet, and use it for wrong purposes.

I think that was true for me. I’m naturally very introverted and shy. I often find social interactions tiring and you’ll often find me making excuses to avoid gatherings or hangouts. I wouldn’t say I ever thought Thumper could replace human friendship and community, but I do think she minimized the negative consequences of isolation, and thus made it easier for me to hide at home.

One of the big lessons God has been teaching me this past year is to fight my instinct to withdraw and instead to love people. More specifically, he’s been challenging me to commit to the church in greater ways; to better serve my family, especially as an example for Katie as she grows up; and to share his grace with my friends who desperately need him. All of these things require me to step out of my comfort zone and love in more costly ways. I have to die to pride and laziness in the church, impatience and selfishness at home, and distraction and earthly-mindedness with non-Christian friends. I’m forced to depend on God in deeper ways. I can love a pet by myself, but I cannot summon Christlike love by my own strength. I must meditate on and draw near to the amazing love that Jesus has shown me.

Perhaps I’m reading too much into it, but when I reflect on the timing of Thumper’s death, I see God’s wisdom and goodness. He allowed her to be a part of my life for a season, because he knew the inner turmoil in my heart and knew I could use all the help I could get. But now, as He calls me to move outward from isolation and self-introspection back into community, he saw it fit to take her away. He knew that taking away Thumper would challenge me to embrace a more costly and ultimately a more mature love. He blessed me through Thumper’s life and is teaching me to love in her death. Truly, he works everything–both big and small–for my good.

‘Ello Ellie!

When my family asked me if I wanted to get another dog, I was hesitant. The wounds from losing Thumper were still fresh, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to experience that again. I tried to put off the decision but it seemed I was in the minority–my dad missed having a dog around, Katie wanted a puppy to play with, and my mom wanted a new exercise buddy. So, with Anthony’s departure to Portland imminent, we decided to go ahead and add a new member to the family.

Meet Ellie Autumn Locke, our new Goldendoodle! (I picked the first name, Katie chose the middle name) We picked her up this past weekend:

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Why did I choose the name Ellie? Ellie is named after a character in Pixar’s Up. Her reddish fur resembles the crazy red hair of her cartoon counterpart. I like Ellie’s character. She’s spunky, crazy, and adventurous, but also sweet and caring. I also like how Pixar movies combine substance and emotional gravity with simple and imaginative storytelling. Their movies have a sense of childlike wonder–which fits well for the name of a family pet.

But more along the lines of this post, Ellie’s name serves as a sort of tribute to Thumper and the lessons God has taught me through her. Ellie, you’ll remember, passes away early in the movie and her death serves as the catalyst for Carl’s growth. He begins the movie as a cynical and withdrawn man but over the course of the movie,  he learns to courageously pursue adventure and love in deeper ways. I hope my time with my pets can drive me to do the same.

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So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do [like having a pet], do all to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV)

 

John and the Personal Gospel

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Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.(John 20:30-31 ESV)

I’ve learned a lot about genuine faith from reading the Gospel of John these past few months (for devotionals and for teaching Sunday School). I learned about Jesus’ identity, his Father, and his mission of salvation, about how outward religiosity can hide stubborn unbelief (the Jewish leaders) and false belief (the crowds), and more. But out of all the takeaways from my time in John, what stood out to me most were the scattered stories of genuine belief I found throughout the book.

In his prologue, John foreshadows for his readers what Jesus’ ministry will look like:

He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:10-13 ESV)

In chapters 1-12 (which cover Jesus’ three years of ministry up until his final week) that’s exactly what we see. Jesus comes to Israel. He does miracles; he pleads for them to recognize and believe in him, but they reject him over and over again. But in the midst of widespread unbelief, John slips in stories of what it looks like to really encounter Jesus. In chapter 3 we find Nicodemus, a top religious leader who comes to Jesus by night looking for answers.  In chapter 4, we read of an adulterous Samaritan woman receiving Jesus as her living water. In chapter 9, we see Jesus heal a blind man and in chapter 10, watch him raise Lazarus from the dead, to the joy of Mary and Martha.

At first, I didn’t quite know what to make of these stories. On the one hand, I was always happy to find a positive response to Jesus in a book mostly filled with depressing rejection. On the other hand, these weren’t conversions as I normally thought of them; Jesus had not yet died on the cross, so they couldn’t have known the full Gospel that we know today. What exactly did these characters know about Jesus? How could they know enough to be Christians after a short conversation or encounter? John’s sparse details left open plenty of other questions for my curiosity: what happens to Nicodemus between chapter 3 and when he pops up again later in the narrative? Did the Samaritan woman and the blind man persevere in their faith after Jesus leaves? I didn’t doubt that these characters truly believed and remained in Jesus, but still, John’s lack of elaboration left me wanting to know how it all worked.

But if everything John writes is so that we would believe, then what is he trying to teach us from these stories? Here’s what I think: the essence of the Gospel is a personal encounter with Jesus.

In these stories, we get to know Jesus and the beauty of his character. We see his stern wisdom as he humbles the great religious teacher; his heart of grace as he crosses cultural and social boundaries for a despised woman and a forgotten man; and the interplay of his  power, compassion, and sovereignty when he raises Lazarus. We see him meet broken people just like us in their greatest need: Nicodemus, in his empty religion; the Samaritan woman, in her loneliness; the blind man, in his poverty and isolation; and Mary and Martha, in the grief of a lost loved one. We see him restore each of their sin, suffering, and sadness and watch their joyful reactions in real time. Each character responds in his or her own unique way: Nicodemus swallows his pride and the fear of his peers to defend Jesus (chapter 7) and anoint his dead body (chapter 19). The Samaritan woman evangelizes and brings revival to her oft-maligned people. The blind man courageously defies the Pharisees even though it means excommunication from the synagogue. And Mary responds in lavish worship by pouring out expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet.

This, John says, is what genuine belief is. It is when we see the character of Jesus as he meets us in our deepest need, and we respond in worship. John doesn’t tell us every detail about these characters. He doesn’t need to. When you experience Jesus in such a personal way, John says, you never forget. You never walk away. You can’t. If you need more information about him, you go out and get it. If hard times come, you persevere and cling to him. Even though we may not know everything about these characters, we know this for certain: they saw Jesus for who he really was.

Before reading the book of John, I had been in a spiritual dry season. One big reason, I realized, was that despite my ‘Gospel-centered-ness’, I had allowed the Gospel to become general instead of personal. I had begun to think of it as a 4-point outline for random evangelism, a way to judge whether someone was a ‘solid’ Christian or not, a truth to offer as advice, a theory that needed to be theologically precise, and a right answer that made your sermon or your worship set legitimate, but somewhere along the way, it had ceased to be personal. The Gospel was something I was supposed to be amazed at and love at all times and in all situations, but not something I was amazed at because it met my deepest need. Even though I was thinking, talking, and singing about the Gospel, I had allowed it to become divorced from the story of Scripture and from my own life.

As I read the stories of John, it was odd; I felt more connected to these personal encounters than I did when I thought about Jesus dying for my sins. I felt like they showed me the beauty of Christ and really connected to my struggles, while the cross felt like a tired cliche. But when I thought about it, I realized that wasn’t right at all. These stories aren’t more personal than the Gospel; they are parables about the Gospel. Everything I loved about these stories is exemplified times infinity at the cross. I loved watching the beauty of Jesus character as he sought out the outcast and sinner–the cross displays that love fully.  I loved watching the responses as each person saw Jesus meet their greatest need. At the cross, Jesus met my greatest need–my sinful standing before a wrathful God.

This past Easter, I had the privilege to share on John 21 about Jesus’ restoration of Peter. After wrapping up his wonderful Gospel with his thesis (the passage I started this post with), John cannot help but give us one more story–one more chance to see the wonderful love of Christ. Peter, burdened by the guilt of denying Jesus, decides to go back to his old life as a fisherman. When he returns after a long night of failed fishing, Jesus is standing at the shore. He performs the same miracle that he did when he first called Peter–a miraculous catch of fish (Luke 5:1-11). In doing so, he sends this powerful message to Peter: It was never about your strength; you’ve always been a fisher of men by my grace alone. You were then, at the start, and you are now, even in your failure. Peter, I still want you as my follower. I still love you. Come follow me.

I was thankful that Jesus is not just this personal with Peter, or with Nicodemus, the Samaritan Woman, the blind man, Mary and Martha, and the other disciples. He has sought me out personally. At the cross, he has revealed his character in the most personal of ways. And at the cross, he has personally met and healed my every longing need. To him be the glory!

And, as an added bonus, for the first time in quite a few months, I wrote a song! I hope you enjoy.

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I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. (John 10:14-15 ESV)

Paradoxology: The Trinity and God’s Massive Love pt. 2

Posted on by under Faith and Doubt

Our series marches on!

Paradoxology: An Introduction

Paradoxology: The Trinity and God’s Massive Love

The Trinity and the Cross

When we understand the infinite depth of the Father and Son’s loving relationship, it helps us to understand and appreciate the cross even more.

The Trinity tells us how much the Father gave

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16)

“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

“In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” (1 John 4:9-10)

How does the Trinity change our understanding of these well-known and beloved verses?

My point here is simple. Our understanding and appreciation of God’s love towards us depends on how much God loves his Son, whom he sent for us. If God loves his son a little, then his love for us diminishes. He wouldn’t be giving up much to save us.

But we know from our understanding of the Trinity that the exact opposite is true: the Father loves his Son more than anything. He has for all eternity been pouring out perfect love towards him in the form of glory–in the divine commendation, “this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”. How great was this love? It was the Father’s love for the Son that exploded into the creation the world; he wanted the whole world to see just how beautiful his Son is.

Sometimes you’ll hear a skeptic say, “What kind of Father is God that he sends his Son to breathe the dirty air of earth and suffer a shameful death upon the cross, while he stays up in Heaven? Our understanding of the Father’s love for the Son should put that accusation to rest once and for all. Ask any father, and I’m sure he would say that he would much rather suffer in place of his child.” Make no mistake, it pained the Father to restrain his greatest instinct–to pour glory and love upon his Son–and to pour out instead the full angry wrath, meant for sinners.

Do you remember the line from the hymn?

“How deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure. That he should give his only Son to make a wretch his  great the pain of searing loss, the Father turns his face away. As would which mar the chosen One, bring many sons to glory”

The Father’s love for us is deep and vast beyond all measure. So much so that it pleased him to crush his only Son so that we might be saved. We look with thankfulness to Paul’s rhetorical question in in Romans 8:31: “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”

The Trinity tells us how much the Son lost

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed to his Father: “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me” (Mt. 26:39). Luke, the physician, records that Jesus was under such great duress that he began to sweat great drops of blood.

We are jarred to see the Son of God so unnerved and distraught. Jesus, throughout his ministry, was always calm and always collected. He was always strong and compassionate. What was in this cup? What was it that was so terrible about the cross that made the Savior ? Was it the torture, the abandonment of his disciples, the mocking? Was it the excruciating pain of the cross?

It couldn’t be that. We know from church history that many disciples were abandoned, beaten, mocked, and scorned, but still endured with great courage and confidence. Many of the disciples later faced their crucifixions with great strength and courage. We know that the disciples were not greater than their master. The only explanation is Jesus was about to experience something far more painful than even the pain of the crucifixion.

What about the cross made Jesus tremble? Matthew captures the heart of Jesus’ pain in his agonizing cry as he hung on the cross:

“And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”

When we understand the eternal love between Father and Son, we understood how great Jesus’ love is for us. We understand that for all eternity the Father has been loving on the Son. They have never been apart. They have been one in every sense of the word. But on the cross, the Son gives up this fellowship in the most drastic way possible–instead of receiving the Father’s glory and love–he receives God’s full angry burning wrath.

When we understand the Trinity, we also understand Jesus’ cry from the cross as one of profound loss and loneliness. Jesus enjoyed perfect intimacy and union with his Father for all eternity. But on the cross, for the first time, Jesus finds himself utterly alone.

What great love the Son has showed us–that he would trade eternal infinite joy for eternal infinite pain and loneliness? For who? For us, sinners and enemies of God.

The more we meditate on God’s intra-Trinitarian love the more we will be amazed at the love of God at the cross!

In the next post, we’ll look at how understanding God’s eternal intra-trinitarian love expands and deepens the way we understand our relationship with God.

Paradoxology: The Trinity and God’s Massive Love

Posted on by under Faith and Doubt

Paradoxology: An Introduction

The first biblical ‘paradox’ I’d like to talk about is the doctrine of the Trinity. There was a period in my life where I really struggled to understand and love the Trinity. As I wrestled with my doubts, I read several books on the topic hoping to find some answers. By far the most helpful book I read was Michael Reeve’s Delighting in the Trinity (You can read Challies’ review here). Reeve’s helped me to not just accept the doctrine of the Trinity, but to cherish it. I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone interested in growing in a deeper understanding of God.

That being said, I want to acknowledge up front that I’ve only scratched the surface in studying the Trinity. I write not as an expert, but as a beginning student. The Trinity is not an easy topic to study, so if you reach different conclusions in your study of the Bible, I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts.  I’m all for any disagreement and discussion that leads to a deeper biblical understanding of and love for our Triune God.

Before we begin, let me give a very quick refresher course on the doctrine of the Trinity:

  • God exists in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit: The Father, the Son, and the Spirit are each distinct individuals, with distinct thoughts, feelings, characteristics, and actions. The Father is not the Son. The Father is not the Spirit, nor is the Son the Spirit.
  • Each person is fully God: We believe that each person is fully and completely God. As God, each person is equally powerful and equally deserving of glory. None is more powerful or more glorious than the other.
  • Yet there is only one true and living God: We do not believe in three gods. We do not believe in a one-person God manifesting himself in three different forms. We do not believe in one God and two super created beings. We believe there is one true and living God, who has existed eternally in three persons.

You can begin to see the difficulty of the Trinity. How are we to understand that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are three separate persons, yet still one God?

In the past,  many well-meaning theologians have fallen into heresy trying to reconcile the Trinity with human logic. Others have concluded that Christianity is absurd, while others have tried to get rid of the doctrine altogether. Many of us see the perils of studying the Trinity and in our desire not to be heretics or apostates, we try to talk and think about the Trinity as little as possible.

Is it worth studying the Trinity at all? Can we grapple with the paradox of the Trinity and fall more deeply in love with God? I think so!

For me, the key that helped me see the beauty of the Trinity was understanding God’s eternal intra-trinitarian love. (Yes, I know. It doesn’t sound very beautiful, but hear me out). What do I mean? God’s eternal intra-trinitarian love means  that the persons of the Trinity–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–have been sharing perfect love among themselves for all eternity. God, in other words, has always been loving. Before time began, God experienced perfect love within himself.

In Jesus’ high priestly prayer in John 17, we get a tiny glimpse into the eternal inner life of the Trinity, and the results are some of the  most mind-blowing truths in all of Scriptures.

In John 17:24, Jesus prays: “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am to see my glory that you have given me because you loved before the foundation of the world.”

Before time began, the Father was giving glory and love to his Son. How are we to understand the Father’s glory? We could describe it as acceptance, approval, and praise. Probably the best way to think about it is to imagine the Father telling the Son how immensely proud of him he is. He loved him with a great love and as a result showered the Son with great love. What does the son do? He responds with loving obedience and submission to his father.  So, for all eternity there was this perfect harmonious love between Father and Son. The Father pouring out love like a fountain and the Son responding in love to the Father.

Where does the Holy Spirit fit into this great love?

John 17 focuses primarily on the love between Father and the Son, but we can draw some clues from the rest of the scriptures.

We see elsewhere in the Scriptures that the Father pours out his love through the Holy Spirit. Do you remember Jesus’ at baptism in Matthew 3. As Jesus rises from the water, the skies open up, and the Father declares, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”. The Father does what he has been doing for all eternity–he is giving glory, praise, and approval to the Son, whom he loves. But do you remember what happens as the Father declares his love? The Holy Spirit comes and rests on Jesus in the form of a dove. Paul, in Romans 5:5 explains how this truth works in our relationship with God: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us”.

Second, we see that in our lives, the Holy Spirit causes us to both know and respond to God’s Fatherly love towards us. In Romans 8:15 and Galatians 4:6, Paul writes about the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of adoption and sonship, who assures us that we are beloved children of our Heavenly Father. As the Holy Spirit brings God’s love into our hearts, Paul says, we respond by crying, “Abba Father”. If this is true for us, sinners, I think it’s reasonable for us to assume this is supremely true of Jesus, God’s Beloved Son.

We’re starting to get a picture of the massive weight of God’s eternal intra-Trinitarian love. The Father loving the Son through the Holy Spirit. The Son responding to the Father’s Love in the Holy Spirit.

Now, think about massive God’s love is. As humans, even at our best, we have conflict in our relationships. Why? Because we are sinners. When we love, our love is often tainted by our selfishness. Not only that, the ones we love are often selfish well. No friendship, family, or marriage is exempt from our sin. Sooner or later our selfishness will cause us to sin against one another.

It is not that way with God. The Father and Son’s love is perfect–there is no taint of selfishness or sin. The Father has every reason to love and glory in his Son and the Son has every reason to delight and obey his Father. They are united in the deep fellowship of the Holy Spirit. The Father pouring out his love through the Holy Spirit and the Spirit stirring in the Son to cry, “Abba, Father”.

When people talk about the Trinity, people are endlessly trying to come up with analogies and clever explanations to explain how God can be three, yet one. I don’t know if I’ve thought this through enough, but I think perhaps the best way is to think about the massive weight of his love.

From what I can tell, when the Bible talks about oneness, it’s intimately connected to love, commitment and unity. We find for instance, the Bible talking about oneness between husband in wife: “A man shall leave his father and his mother and shall hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” The beauty of marriage is that two different individuals are joined in spiritual, emotional, and physical union. We see in Philippians 2, we see that as we, the Church, grow in our knowledge of Christ and our participation in the Spirit, we will increasingly grow in humility and have “the same mind, the same love, being in full accord and of one mind”.  The love of the Gospel can take diversity and bring about wonderful oneness as we grow in our love for Jesus.

A husband and a wife may be spiritually, emotionally, and physically one (what a beautiful way of viewing God’s good design for sex!), but they are not literally one. The church can be one in purpose and love as members serve one another humbly, but they are not literally one. But God’s love is so great, his unity and fellowship so perfect, that he is actually one, in every sense of the word. That doesn’t resolve the paradox logically, but that is a kind of paradox that leads me to humble amazed worship.

So far, we’ve seen that if you start with the Trinity, you have a wonderful sharing God of love. What happens if you get rid of the cumbersome doctrine of the Trinity?

Well, if you take away the Trinity, you lose any possibility of God being eternally loving. By definition, in order to be loving, you need someone else to love. You could say you love yourself, but that’s not the kind of love we’re talking about. Instead of being eternally loving, and looking outward to other persons, this God would have been eternally by himself, self-centered, and looking inward.

Whether or not God was eternally loving may seem like semantics, but if you think about it, it’s hugely important for how we view creation. Depending on how you look at it, Genesis 1:1 can either be good or bad news.

If the Triune God creates, it is great news! Here is a God who is fundamentally sharing and loving; so sharing and loving, in fact, that it overflows and explodes into creation. God wants to share his own life with us. The Father wants us to know and understand the beauty of the Son which he has been enjoying for all eternity! We can have great confidence in God’s love because he has forever been a Father in the deepest part of our identity.

On the other hand, if a single-person God, it would be bad news. Why? I can think of only two reasons why he would create. Either he is lonely and needy and wanted someone  to praise him. That God would not be very worthy of our worship, would he? He would be weak, insecure, and dependent on his creation. The other reason would be that God created us to rule over us. That would be scary! We see what happens when men are given free-reign and absolute authority to do whatever they want with no accountability, they become terrifying dictators.

In the next post, we’ll look at how understanding God’s eternal intra-trinitarian love expands and deepens the way we understand Jesus’ sacrifice for us on the Cross.

Paradoxology: An Introduction

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Paradoxology: An Introduction

“Paradoxology”, as you can probably tell, is a wordplay off of Paradox and Doxology. The idea here is that the most difficult paradoxes of our faith can lead us the  deepest worship. Paradox leading to worship? How can that be?”  G.K. Chesterton. in his book Orthodoxy gives us some provocative. yet insightful thoughts:

“The whole secret of mysticism is this: that man can understand everything by the help of what he does not understand. The morbid logician seeks to make everything lucid, and succeeds in making everything mysterious. The mystic allows one thing to be mysterious, and everything else becomes lucid.” (20)

Now this exactly the claim which I have since come to propound for Christianity. Not merely that it deduces logical truths, but that when it suddenly becomes illogical, it has found, so to speak, an illogical truth. It not only goes right about things, but it goes wrong (if one may say so) exactly where the things go wrong. Its plan suits the secret irregularities, and expects the unexpected. It is simple about the simple truth but it is stubborn about the subtle truth…it is my only purpose in this chapter to point this out; to show that whenever we feel there is something odd in Christian theology, we shall generally find that there is something odd in the truth (75)

Chesterton acknowledges that there are paradoxes in the Christian faith; certain things are mysterious, even seemingly illogical. But he notices there is always something funny about biblical paradoxes–if you can humbly accept them, everything becomes wonderfully and beautifully clear; but if you try and explain them away, what’s left of your religion neither makes sense, nor inspires worship. Christianity says odd things, but they turn out to profoundly explain some of the most complex realities of our world.

Biblical paradoxes, in other words, do not prove that our faith is incoherent or absurd. It’s exactly the opposite. They give us some of the most powerful evidence that our faith is true. The wisdom of the world is polished, smooth, and logical. Yet, upon closer examination, these explanations are woefully inadequate to explain reality. The wisdom of God on first glance seems strange, even laughably contradictory–who in their right mind would think of something so odd?–but upon closer examination, it possesses divine beauty and truth. And in Chesterton’s words, when we allow some mystery, everything becomes marvellously and wonderfully clear. We are left in awe, saying, “We could never have thought of this. Truly, this is the Word of God. Glory be to his name”

For now (we’ll see if I can think of more paradoxes later), I plan to write first about the Trinity and afterwards, the sovereignty of God. I’ll be drawing most of the material for this series from two great books: Delighting in the Trinity by Michael Reeves and The Sovereignty of God and Evangelism by J.I. Packer. These are some of the most important books I’ve read. They have  not only helped me to better understand the Trinity and God’s sovereignty, they have also led me to deep thankful worship  .

My hope is that through these series, you would realize we don’t have to uncomfortable or embarrassed with the paradoxes of our faith. Rather, we can respond as Paul did as he emerged from one of the densest, most difficult parts of Scripture at the end of Romans 11:

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?” “Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?” For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen. (Romans 11:33-36 ESV)

Next post on its way soon!

Forgiven Much: The Greatest Commandment

Posted on by under Sin and Grace

Martyn Lloyd Jones, Spiritual Depression, p. 29-31

“The same is true today, and if we are concerned about a conviction of sin, the first thing we have to do is to stop thinking about particular sins. How difficult we all find this. We have all got these prejudices. We confine sin to certain things only, and because we are not guilty of these we think that we are not sinners …the essential point is, that the way to know yourself a sinner is not to compare yourself with other people; it is to come face to face with the Law of God. Well, what is God’s Law? Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal? ‘I have never done that, therefore I am not a sinner.’ But, my friend, that is not the law of God in its entirety. Would you like to know what the Law of God is? Here it is–‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul and with all thy strength. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Forget all about drunkards and their like, forget all the people you read about in the press at the present time. Here is the test for you and me: Are you loving God with all your being? If you are not, you are a sinner. That is the test… …So the test we apply to ourselves is…not ‘have I done this or that?’ My test is a positive one: ‘Do I know God? Is Jesus Christ real to me?’ I am not asking whether you know things about Him, but do you know God, are you enjoying God, is God the centre of your life, the soul of your being, the source of your greatest joy? He is meant to be…You and I are meant to be like that, and if we are not like that, it is sin. That is the essence of sin. We have no right not to be like that. That is sin of the deepest and worst type. The essence of sin, in other words, is that we do not live entirely to the glory of God. Of course by committing particular sins we aggravate our guilt before God, but you can be innocent of all gross sins and yet be guilty of this terrible thing, of being satisfied with your life, of having pride in your achievements, and of looking down on others and feeling that you are better than others. There is nothing worse than that… …I know of nothing worse than the person who says: ‘You know I have never really felt that I am a sinner’. That is the height of sin because it means that you have never realized the truth about God and the truth about yourself.”

 

For other posts in the ‘Forgiven Much’ series.

Introduction

For a Bucket of Rainwater

Nowhere to Hide

 

Forgiven Much: Nowhere to Hide

Posted on by under Sin and Grace

The idea of this “Forgiven Much” series is to post short reflections on my sinfulness for the purposing of marveling at how much Jesus has forgiven me. You can read previous posts below:

Introduction

For a Bucket of Rainwater

Also, you might have noticed, but I’m trying to update this blog more regularly. I won’t be advertising via social media so please subscribe on WordPress, by email, or in any kind of reader you use. I hope and pray I can pray this blog can bless and encourage you. Thanks!

During my recent mission trip, I remember sitting with one of my teammates on the Japanese subway. We had just flown in from Beijing where we had spent a week and a half crammed into a small apartment in the hot polluted summer. My teammate and I were talking about some of the struggles and difficulties of the trip. We both shared something to this effect:

“At home, if you’re annoyed and frustrated after a long day, you can go out somewhere. You can go to your room and spend time alone. The difficult part of the trip is that there’s nowhere to hide. You’re being stretched by really long days. But you’re constantly around people so you don’t have time to really rest. There’s really nowhere for your flesh to hide”

My pastor in Irvine is fond of saying, “You never know what’s inside of a sponge until you squeeze it”. I think the reason why we as affluent Americans often have difficulty realizing our sinfulness is that we never get squeezed. For many of us, a good deal of our sinfulness is hidden by our comfort. If we’re feeling angry or frustrated, we can go to some quiet space. We can blow off steam by playing games or surfing the web. But what happens when those outlets are taken away? What are we really like under pressure? For me, I know that’s when my carefully hidden flesh comes roaring out–in the form of irritability, anger, unthankfulness, self-centeredness, and many other sins.

I’ve been seeing a lot more of my sin since moving home to Sacramento. Currently, I am without a room. I  have no quiet space to isolate myself when I feel like being alone. Combine that with a 6 year old sister who loves to talk and play more than any human I’ve ever met, and I’ve been having some growing pains. I’ve been seeing sin in myself that I never really had to deal with when I was away at school. I’ve been seeing how selfish I am with my “free” time, and how frustrated I get when people infringe on my comfort.

I suspect that’s why marriage and family are so difficult. Yes, you get increased privileges, but with those privileges come added responsibilities. A loss of privacy and places to hide our flesh. A loss of the ability to freely use our time as we choose. Before I rush naively toward the benefits of marriage and family,  I pray that God would continue to cultivate in me a heart that is willing to take on the added responsibility. I’ve got a long ways to go.

As I seek to grow in character and love, would I find rest in the truth that God knows my heart. My comfort might hide my sin from others and even myself, but he knows the ugliness of what I’m truly like when the sponge of my heart gets squeezed. Praise God that he loves me in spite of all my shortcomings.

—

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; (1 Corinthians 13:4-5 ESV)

Forgiven Much: For a Bucket of Rainwater

Posted on by under Sin and Grace

I started this “Forgiven Much” series a long time ago but never got around to writing anything for it. Better late than never though, right? My idea was to post short reflections on my sinfulness in order to marvel at how much Jesus has forgiven me . You can find the link to the introduction below.

Introduction

Oftentimes the sins I struggle with most in daily life seem very ‘ordinary’ and ‘small’–bad time management, laziness, impatience, a lack of discipline, etc. As a Christian, I know I should feel deep thankfulness to Christ for every sin since all sin deserves God’s holy wrath regardless of how ‘big’ or ‘small’ it feels. However, in practice, this is difficult. How can we feel the weight of our ‘small’ sins?

A while back, I was watching a question and answer session. The particular question being answered was: “If someone just told one small lie,  would God be just in sending that person to an eternity in hell?” At the heart of the question is the same dilemma: what’s so bad about a small little sin?  Does it really deserve the full weight of hell?

The pastor told this analogy to illustrate the great sinfulness of small sins which I found to be very helpful.

“If a man is married to a woman, and his wife leaves him for another man. And that man has certain qualities about him which make him attractive, that’s one thing. I mean if a person commits a great sin. But think about the small sins, it’s almost like the small sin is that much more abominably wicked. Because it’s like your wife saying, “I’m going to leave you for 10 dollars. I’m going to leave you for a free meal. I’m gonna leave you for a bucketful of rainwater. Do you see the insult there? You’re gonna tread on the glory of God for something ridiculously small? You’re saying, “I’m going to have my will and I’m going to do it my way even though it’s such a stupid little thing to lie about.”

Traditionally, the answer I’ve heard is that a small sin is infinite because it’s against the glory of an infinite God. That’s true, but it’s more than that. My “small” sin is infinitely heinous because I trade the glory of God for absolutely nothing. I do this constantly in my everyday actions–when I waste time on the Internet and mindlessly find my joy there, when I look for almost any excuse to put off reading my Bible or praying, when I get into an argument with my parents just to win one little silly point. As stupid as it sounds, I choose ESPN and Facebook and having my way as Savior over the Living Christ.

I’m reminded of Jeremiah 2:4-5: Hear the word of the Lord, O house of Jacob, and all the clans of the house of Israel. Thus says the Lord: “What wrong did your fathers find in me that they went far from me,and went after worthlessness, and became worthless? (Jeremiah 2:4-5, ESV). Praise the Savior who forgives me even though daily I trade him for worthless buckets or rainwater.

—

…You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1 Peter 1:18-19 ESV)

P.S. If anyone else wants to take up this up with me, feel free to post your own reflections of your sinfulness and how it leads you to be thankful for Christ!

Songwriting and the Spirit of the Text

Posted on by under Sorrow and Joy

Sometimes people will ask me, “how do you write songs?” Actually my approach to songwriting is pretty simple. I could sum it up in this single principle: Good songwriting combines lyrics and music to communicate a feeling or moment to your listener. 

Imagine those emotions you feel most deeply. It could be joy, sadness, frustration, anything really. Or imagine a significant moment–picture what you felt, your surroundings, etc. Your job as a songwriter is to capture that emotion or moment in its purest, most concentrated form so that when your listener hears your song, they can understand it as well as you can.

As a musician, you have two tools to convey emotion and feeling: lyrical content and music. In your content, write as beautifully and as precisely as possible. One gripe I have with modern worship music is that it presents truth in such a cliched generic way. It’s filled with stock phrases that talk about the Gospel in the exact same way that every other song does. In my mind, this hinders worship. If you write carelessly and thoughtlessly about the truth, then it’s only a matter of time before we begin to sing carelessly and thoughtlessly about the truth. The Gospel brings about deep emotions of thankfulness and joy. Labor to evoke those responses in your audience by writing well about the beauty of Christ, and by painting a picture of what a heart looks like when it genuinely responds to the Gospel. If you’re looking for examples, look to the hymns. The hymn writers did not just communicate truth, they did so poetically and imaginatively. To quote some of my favorites–from Come Thou Fount: “Prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love!” or from Be Thou my Vision: “Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision oh ruler of all!” Those are some darn well-written lines.

Your second tool is music. The music should not be an afterthought, but rather should supplement your lyrics. Most often, your music will support your lyrics. To name a secular example, think of the ultra popular song, “Say Something“. You’re probably sick of it by now, but let me ask you: how did such a simple and clean song become so popular among the normal crop of crass party/dance songs? Because its lyrics and music do such a good job capturing emotion.

Notice how the quiet slow music matches the exhausted speaker as he pleads with his love one last time . Notice how the music continually swells as the speaker builds up to one final plea, climaxing at 3:19. Notice how it quiets again as he realizes that its time to give up. The music plays a crucial part in telling the story of the song and communicating the speaker’s emotion. For some other interesting examples off the top of my head: check out the Adele songs “Someone like you” and “Rolling in the deep”. Notice how the music matches the lyrics.

You can also use music to contradict or complicate the message of your lyrics. For example, taking hopeful lyrics and putting them with minor-sounding chords. For a pretty clear example of this, check out “Joy” by Page CXVI,  or the band Ascend the Hill. . Or think about all the youtube covers which change a fast poppy song to a slow ballad or vice versa. How might music change the message of the song? Singing happy lyrics to a minor melody might, for instance, communicate the speaker’s desire to believe his lyrics, but the struggle of his heart to truly do so.

Well, there you have it. Use your lyrics and music to encapsulate deep feeling.  The difficult (and fun) part, of course, is thinking hard about your lyrics and your music, and using them to complement each other in creative and compelling ways.

My favorite way to capture emotion is through what I’ve called earlier the tension of faith. Basically, the emotion I want to capture is the feeling of believers as we struggle between earthly difficulties and our hope in Christ. Martyn Lloyd Jones writes that the glory of the Christian life is not “the absence of feeling” but that as Christians we “rise above them though you feel them”. I’ve found the most profound music which resonates most deeply with me, is the music which acknowledges earthly struggle, but upholds Gospel hope if we will but have faith.

Let me walk you through this thought process in  “Eternal Weight of Glory”, a song based on Paul’s words 2 Corinthians. Here are the lyrics of the verse and chorus:

Verse:
We do not lose heart, and we are of good courage
And though we cannot see, we will look to what is certain :
This momentary pain is preparing for the day when we shall feel the weight of

Chorus:
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah! Glory, Glory, Hallelujah! (What shall we say when we see)
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah! (eternal weight of glory?)
“O Glorious King, How great you are!

Bridge:
Here in the body, away from the Lord
We make it our aim to please and adore
Away from the body, at home with the Lord
We make it our aim, to please and adore him
O Glorious King how great you are!

The tension I wanted to capture here is between momentary pain and the eternal weight of glory. The verse captures the reality that Paul is “here in the body, and away from the Lord”. It captures all of our realities as we endure through earthly life as we hope towards heaven. Yet, even though we believe in God’s promise, we still experience real and distressing pain. Notice, as the song reaches the line, “this momentary pain…” the volume and the dissonance of the music builds, matching the reality of earthly hardships.

Once you hit the word “glory” however we move from earthly longing to heavenly fulfillment. We glimpse the reality of  how it feels to be “away from the body, at home with the Lord”. You’re at the height of the crushing dissonance of suffering, and suddenly it’s over. There is a moment of rest and reprieve. You’re standing in heaven. Everything is suddenly quiet except for the chorus of angels and faithful saints singing “glory, glory, hallelujah” And then you see the King. And slowly you begin to realize the weight of the Glorious King.  As real as the weight of suffering was, it does not compare. All you can do is cry our with all of of creation, “Oh Glorious King how great you are!”

Earthly suffering and heavenly hope are held in tension throughout the song. Near the end, they even come together as they’re sung on top of each other, until it fades only to the chorus. It’s expressed in the bridge as we sing about how wherever we are we will praise the glorious King. I think the tension is captured most succinctly in the phrase: what shall we say when we see eternal weight of glory? Oh Glorious King, how great you are! It is both the cry of faith for the struggling believer, looking forward to the day of salvation. It is the joyful shout of the believer in heaven as he beholds the King.

Now, let me shift gears a bit. The interesting thing about this song is that it’s lifted basically verbatum from 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, 5:6-9. Even more interestingly, almost all of the songs dearest  to my heart, which have also resonated most deeply with other people, have come directly from the Scriptures. I think this tells us something wonderful about God’s Word. Namely, there is tension in God’s word. There is deep profound emotion in God’s Word. When we come to the Bible with all of our longings and emotions, we don’t find simplistic textbook answers. We find a God of comfort who understands us and is able to meet us in our deepest needs.

Let me ask another question: why does God choose to deliver for instance, the book of 2 Corinthians, through a human author like the Apostle Paul? Why didn’t he just write an instruction manual telling us to hold on because heaven is better than earth?

Do you remember the role of music in songwriting? It is not arbitrary, rather it compliments the lyrical content. I think God does something similar with our lives. On the one hand, there are the words of Scripture, but God gives them to us through a real man, in a real situation, writing to real people. He has endured and is presently enduring real suffering. And so, he says those words with credibility and also with real heartfelt emotion. He speaks from within the tension of knowing the worth of heaven, while also feeling the heavy burdens of life. Paul’s life is the music which compliments the message (And our lives are the music which compliment our message too!). God, in his infinite wisdom, knew that speaking through a real historical Paul would minister more deeply to our souls than a tidy instruction manual.

All to say that, as we study God’s Word for ourselves and communicate it to others, I think it’s helpful at times to think like a songwriter. Yes, first and foremost focus on getting the truth of the text so that we faithfully communicate what God’s Word says. But also, look for the emotion, the spirit of the text. What does it mean for Paul to be able to say what he says in 2 Corinthians? How about in 2 Timothy? Or how would a poor sick man feel when he stood listening to Jesus preach the Beatitudes in the sermon on the mount? Why does Jesus get so angry at certain points of the Gospel? What does it mean when John tells us that Jesus wept? You could go on and on. But I think if we’re careful to pay attention the spirit of the text, we’ll find that the Bible speaks profoundly with weight and emotion to both our own souls and to the souls of our listeners.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:16-17 ESV)

Learning to be Me

Posted on by under Loneliness and the Love of God

“I’m bad and that’s good. I will never be good and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me”

Sometimes we criticize animated films because they always seem to have the same message: self-esteem. Be yourself. Accept yourself for who you are. You’ll find happiness when you do. “Nonsense!” we cry,  “We don’t find our worth in ourselves. There’s nothing worthy in myself. Christ gives us worth.”

But perhaps we should be a bit more nuanced about ‘self-esteem’ (for lack of a better term) . The fact remains that, even after the Gospel, I am still me. That is,  my affections change from the world to Christ and from sin to personal holiness, but my basic personality remains intact. Martyn Lloyd Jones writes this about our personalities (or temperaments in his words):

“Temperament…does make a very great difference in the actual experience in the Christian life…For the fact of the matter is that though we are all Christian together, we are all different, and the problems and the difficulties, the perplexities and the trials that we are likely to meet are in large measure determined by the difference of temperament and of type. We are all in the same fight, of course, as we share the same common salvation, and have the same common central need. But the manifestation of the trouble vary from case to case and from person to person. There is nothing more futile…than to act on the assumption that all Christians are identical in every respect. They are not, and they are not even meant to be.”

The truth is we all have to learn to live with ourselves–our personalities and their particular strengths and weaknesses. Circumstances will come and go, but no matter what, you will always be you. So, if you struggle to understand and accept your own personality, it’s going to be a constant battle and source of discouragement. You cannot escape yourself. You cannot escape your insecurities, and the particular weaknesses your personality is prone to.

As we think about ‘self-esteem’, we should distinguish that there are neutral aspects of our personality, and then there are sins closely tied with our personalities–that is, our personalities make us more prone to certain kinds of sin than others. The latter we must learn to put to death but the former we can learn to accept. God has made us uniquely in his image. Moreover, when he saved us, he didn’t put our personality into a holy cookie-cutter mold; he is making our particular temperament more like Christ. The glory of the Gospel is that many different types of people all choose to love God and find him worthy of praise despite their differences.

For myself, I’ve always struggled with insecurity about these neutral aspects of my personality. I’m more quiet and reserved. I don’t have a boisterous personality or a particularly sharp sense of humor. I’m uncomfortable in large groups. Because of these characteristics, I often feel as if I can never truly belong because I’m not funny, memorable, or outgoing enough to carve out a lasting space in people’s lives. I often feel like I’ll never be truly useful in ministry because I don’t always have a ton to say or I can’t easily connect with people.

This insecurity leads to recurring sins, most notably, self-focus and unthankfulness. Fear of my own inadequacy directs my attention constantly inward. There could be great things happening all around me but instead of enjoying them, I’m thinking to myself: what does this person think of me? Am I fitting in? Why am I weak in this way? This, in turn, leads to unthankfulness. Whatever good thing is eclipsed by the discontent I feel about myself.

I need to be extra diligent in recognizing these sins and rooting them out of my life. Why? Because they’re so closely tied to my temperament, if I’m not careful, they easily become part of the daily routine how I act, think, and feel. Sadly, I’ve had entire seasons of life and ministry be characterized by this self-focus and unthankfulness. If I’m not careful, these sins can rob me both of my joy and my usefulness in ministry. 

Here are a few thoughts about learning to come to terms with my own temperament and its limitations.

wreck-it-ralph

1. Learning to be Thankful

Here is where I’d probably depart from animated films. Pixar, Dreamworks, and Disney will tell you: those worries that you have about your inadequacies? They don’t really exist. You’re perfectly lovable just the way you are. Just believe in yourself!

But I don’t think that’s true, even if we’re talking strictly about the neutral aspects of our personality. Our insecurities aren’t completely unfounded. We feel them because there is some truth to them. Now I’m not saying we don’t blow them way out of proportion. I know I sure do. I know oftentimes when I hear people talk about their weaknesses and flaws, I’m often confused because I don’t see them at all. And I’m sure my insecurities would seem the same way to other people. We should labor to be as realistic about ourselves as possible.

But my weaknesses do exist. As a whole, I can look at my life and know that I am loved by close friends and family and that God uses me in ministry, but that doesn’t take away the sting of disappointments in everyday life when I feel alone or helpless.

Instead of ignoring our limitations, perhaps the best way to come to terms with them, is to acknowledge they exist, but to learn to be thankful for them. It’s true that if I were more outgoing, then I would struggle less with feeling accepted. If I had a better sense of humor, I would be more useful in ministry than I am now. But if I could magically fix everything I didn’t like about myself, I would also lose something crucial to my sanctification.

We often forget in the pain of weakness that weaknesses is crucial to our growth. Do you remember what Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 12:7-9?

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:7-9 ESV)

Now, I don’t know what Paul’s ‘thorn in the flesh’ was, but limitations of temperament can fit the bill in my life. They are constant. They seem like they’re always with me reminding me of my weakness. Yet, God has used them to teach me the most important lesson of all: I am weak so I need to depend on him. I am weak all the time and so I need his strength all the time. In every conversation, every meeting, every second of every day.

Where would I be if I could hide all the weaknesses of my temperament? Perhaps I could be more popular and more useful, without sacrificing the lowliness that comes with weakness. But more likely, I would trust in myself. I would become conceited, self-sufficient, and would boast in my own abilities.

2. Learning not to Compare

I’m writing this post sandwiched in between two fantastic ministry opportunities. Earlier this summer, I was privileged to go to China (You can read it about it here!). This next week, I will have the privilege to minister to high school students at Chinese Bible Mission (or CBM as it’s more commonly known).

I am blessed beyond belief to be able to participate in Gospel ministries like these. At the same time, I know how easy it is to waste these opportunities by comparing myself to others instead of serving joyfully. It’s easy to become discouraged because the other counselors are more useful than me. Or to feel that because I’m more reserved, I can never fit in with the team or the other counselors as well as others can.

How sad it is to waste such precious time in envy, wanting what others have instead of being floored that God allows me to serve at all. If you and I are ever going to put to death insecurity, we must put to death our sinful tendency to compare ourselves to others.

3. Learning to Serve

When I struggle with own insecurity, my tendency is to want to retreat. To retreat from fellowship. To retreat from leadership. To retreat from taking initiative and being intentional with others. To retreat from being bold and taking risks for Christ. But this is a wrong reaction. This is essentially saying, because I can’t serve in the selfish way I want to serve or be useful in the way I want to be useful, I won’t serve.

But God has gifted me in many ways. He has gift me with many opportunities. Should I not use the personality, the talents, and the strengths God has given me to bless the church? Paul writes this in 1 Corinthians 12:12-20:

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit. For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. (1 Corinthians 12:12-20 ESV)

I may not be a mouth, or a nose, or the eyes. Perhaps I may be something small in the body of Christ. But the church has diverse needs, and God has created a diverse body to meet those needs. The church needs outgoing people and quiet people. The church needs introverts and extroverts. People who can bring laughter to large groups and people who can listen well to the newcomer who still hasn’t quite fit in. Part of learning to be me is to learn how God has gifted me to serve the church and to use those gifts with joy and zeal.

4. Learning to be Loved

Because of our weaknesses we often feel inadequate. We feel inadequate to measure up to the expectations of the people we care about. We feel inadequate to be useful in the ministries and service opportunities that God has placed us in. And our fears are right; we are inadequate. We have limitations in the neutral aspects of our personality. We are disqualified because of the sinful aspects of our personality. If people knew us as we really are, who would judge us as worthy? No one.

God knows everything about us. He knows our weaknesses and sins better than we know them ourselves. Yet, God still loves us. He loves us so much that he sent his own Son to die on the Cross to purchase us. And if that weren’t enough, He still uses us to do his work. He employs broken jars of clay so that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. Praise God for weakness because it brings us to treasure the gracious God who shows us grace.

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; (1 Corinthians 1:26-27 ESV)