The Warning Against Desiring Spiritual Success

Do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you . . . —Luke 10:20

Worldliness is not the trap that most endangers us as Christian workers; nor is it sin. The trap we fall into is extravagantly desiring spiritual success; that is, success measured by, and patterned after, the form set by this religious age in which we now live. Never seek after anything other than the approval of God, and always be willing to go “outside the camp, bearing His reproach” (Hebrews 13:13).

In Luke 10:20  , Jesus told the disciples not to rejoice in successful service, and yet this seems to be the one thing in which most of us do rejoice. We have a commercialized view— we count how many souls have been saved and sanctified, we thank God, and then we think everything is all right. Yet our work only begins where God’s grace has laid the foundation. Our work is not to save souls, but to disciple them. Salvation and sanctification are the work of God’s sovereign grace, and our work as His disciples is to disciple others’ lives until they are totally yielded to God. One life totally devoted to God is of more value to Him than one hundred lives which have been simply awakened by His Spirit. As workers for God, we must reproduce our own kind spiritually, and those lives will be God’s testimony to us as His workers. God brings us up to a standard of life through His grace, and we are responsible for reproducing that same standard in others.

Unless the worker lives a life that “is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3), he is apt to become an irritating dictator to others, instead of an active, living disciple. Many of us are dictators, dictating our desires to individuals and to groups. But Jesus never dictates to us in that way. Whenever our Lord talked about discipleship, He always prefaced His words with an “if,” never with the forceful or dogmatic statement— “You must.” Discipleship carries with it an option.

Do You Worship The Work?

We are God’s fellow workers . . . —1 Corinthians 3:9

Beware of any work for God that causes or allows you to avoid concentrating on Him. A great number of Christian workers worship their work. The only concern of Christian workers should be their concentration on God. This will mean that all the other boundaries of life, whether they are mental, moral, or spiritual limits, are completely free with the freedom God gives His child; that is, a worshiping child, not a wayward one. A worker who lacks this serious controlling emphasis of concentration on God is apt to become overly burdened by his work. He is a slave to his own limits, having no freedom of his body, mind, or spirit. Consequently, he becomes burned out and defeated. There is no freedom and no delight in life at all. His nerves, mind, and heart are so overwhelmed that God’s blessing cannot rest on him.

But the opposite case is equally true–once our concentration is on God, all the limits of our life are free and under the control and mastery of God alone. There is no longer any responsibility on you for the work. The only responsibility you have is to stay in living constant touch with God, and to see that you allow nothing to hinder your cooperation with Him. The freedom that comes after sanctification is the freedom of a child, and the things that used to hold your life down are gone. But be careful to remember that you have been freed for only one thing–to be absolutely devoted to your co-Worker.

We have no right to decide where we should be placed, or to have preconceived ideas as to what God is preparing us to do. God engineers everything; and wherever He places us, our one supreme goal should be to pour out our lives in wholehearted devotion to Him in that particular work. “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might . . .” (Ecclesiastes 9:10).

Don’t Hurt the Lord

Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip? —John 14:9

Our Lord must be repeatedly astounded at us-astounded at how “un-simple” we are. It is our own opinions that make us dense and slow to understand, but when we are simple we are never dense; we have discernment all the time. Philip expected the future revelation of a tremendous mystery, but not in Jesus, the Person he thought he already knew. The mystery of God is not in what is going to be-it is now, though we look for it to be revealed in the future in some overwhelming, momentous event. We have no reluctance to obey Jesus, but it is highly probable that we are hurting Him by what we ask-”Lord, show us the Father . . .” (John 14:8). His response immediately comes back to us as He says, “Can’t you see Him? He is always right here or He is nowhere to be found.” We look for God to exhibit Himself to His children, but God only exhibits Himself in His children. And while others see the evidence, the child of God does not. We want to be fully aware of what God is doing in us, but we cannot have complete awareness and expect to remain reasonable or balanced in our expectations of Him. If all we are asking God to give us is experiences, and the awareness of those experiences is blocking our way, we hurt the Lord. The very questions we ask hurt Jesus, because they are not the questions of a child.

“Let not your heart be troubled . . .” (14:1, 27). Am I then hurting Jesus by allowing my heart to be troubled? . If I believe in Jesus and His attributes, am I living up to my belief? Am I allowing anything to disturb my heart, or am I allowing any questions to come in which are unsound or unbalanced? I have to get to the point of the absolute and unquestionable relationship that takes everything exactly as it comes from Him. God never guides us at some time in the future, but always here and now. Realize that the Lord is here now, and the freedom you receive is immediate.

The Light That Never Fails

We all, with unveiled face, beholding . . . the glory of the Lord . . . —2 Corinthians 3:18

A servant of God must stand so very much alone that he never realizes he is alone. In the early stages of the Christian life, disappointments will come— people who used to be lights will flicker out, and those who used to stand with us will turn away. We have to get so used to it that we will not even realize we are standing alone. Paul said, “. . . no one stood with me, but all forsook me . . . . But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me . . .” (2 Timothy 4:16-17). We must build our faith not on fading lights but on the Light that never fails. When “important” individuals go away we are sad, until we see that they are meant to go, so that only one thing is left for us to do— to look into the face of God for ourselves.

Allow nothing to keep you from looking with strong determination into the face of God regarding yourself and your doctrine. And every time you preach make sure you look God in the face about the message first, then the glory will remain through all of it. A Christian servant is one who perpetually looks into the face of God and then goes forth to talk to others. The ministry of Christ is characterized by an abiding glory of which the servant is totally unaware— “. . . Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone while he talked with Him” (Exodus 34:29).

We are never called on to display our doubts openly or to express the hidden joys and delights of our life with God. The secret of the servant’s life is that he stays in tune with God all the time.

How to Reconcile Science and Religion

By Paul Wallace
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/paul-wallace/how-to-reconcile-science-_b_1404660.html

Last month in these pages, Jason Rosenhouse wrote about reconciling science and religion. In his concluding paragraph he said,

Many Christians have resolved [this issue] to their own satisfaction. The literature defending "theistic evolution" is large and erudite. I can understand, though, why so many people are not impressed with such efforts... They seem like so much armchair philosophy, as though the writer thinks the task of reconciliation is accomplished when a logically possible scenario containing both God and evolution, no matter how implausible, is produced.

He's right. If one approaches science and religion as logical systems that must be rationally reconciled, then reconciliation is really hard. In particular, if one approaches any religion scientifically, as a set of logical propositions (and nothing more) and considers them as so many data points (and nothing more), then reconciliation is probably impossible. Even if it's not, whatever meta-system that emerges is likely to be a monstrous and uninspiring thing.

On the other side, many religious people tend to think of science as essentially religious in nature. These folks think believing in evolution (say) requires faith just like believing in Jesus Christ (say) requires faith. But that's just not true, unless one stretches the word "faith" until it means nothing at all.

Both sides, it seems, are trapped within their native categories. Many scientists think religion is just science done badly, and many religious people think science is basically a religion.

But science and religion have different languages. They use them differently and for different ends. The cultural divide is deep. This is not to say that science and religion have nothing to say to one another; after all, we live in one world. But careful translation is required. And even then, there are no perfect translations.

But there are plenty of horrible ones. During my time as the chair of a college physics department I directed a search for a new faculty member. And, to my surprise, some foreign applicants simply ran their CV's through online translators before sending them to me. The result was comical. A translation had occurred, but one could not discern -- at all -- the original intent of perhaps three out of four sentences. The applications were nearly pure nonsense.

Often, when I read or hear scientists on religion or religious believers on science, I get the sense that a similar kind of flatfooted one-to-one translation is lurking somewhere behind the words. Truly bilingual people are hard to find, perhaps because the two languages, and the perspectives that inspire them, are so different.

Science's categories are products of its frontal vision. They are (relatively) well-defined. And science progresses by narrowing its focus, by dividing the world into parts. It puts those parts back together, to be sure, but it never takes its eye off distinctions.

On the other hand, theology's categories are (relatively) poorly-defined, its vision anything but frontal. We cannot address God directly, but always obliquely, always indirectly. The language of theology reflects its object's shifting presence in our lives: glancing, peripheral. That's just the nature of the thing: Once you nail it down, it's dead. Or, as a friend of mine once put it, "Any box you put God in becomes a casket."

A story may help illustrate. As an astronomy professor I spent many nights under the sky with my students, pointing out stars and planets and other cosmic doodads. Often the students would strain, trying to see dim stars I could see easily. This is not because they were blind or my vision was excellent, but because there's a trick to it. To see a dim star you can't look straight at it. But once you relax and look a little to the side of it, it pops clearly into view. Of course once this happens you reflexively focus on it again and it disappears. You must relax your eyes and learn to trust your peripheral vision. You almost have to stop trying. It's very frustrating to novice skygazers, who have grown up believing that the best way to see something is always to look at it.

It's just not so, and the language of theology is grounded largely in peripheral vision. It is not poetry exactly, but it's more like poetry than anything else. It can't be forced, it can't be manipulated, and it's anything but explicit. Meanwhile, science clips along with its direct, fact-filled, straightforward prose. Science's accessibility is its great gift, but not all knowledge is like this. 

A good translator invites science and religion to the table and seeks common ground. This requires social savvy as well as knowledge of the relevant perspectives and languages, because this is not merely an intellectual problem; it's also an identity problem. The translator's hardest job may be getting the strangers to look each other in the eye, to see each other as human, which of course means to consider a reality outside their own. Then and only then can specific language problems be addressed.

It's not an impossible task, but it sure isn't easy either. It's enough to make one hope for a new language, a lingua franca that can bridge the chasm between science and religion. Just a dream? I don't know, but for today at least, here's my advice on how to reconcile this pair: with patience, sensitivity, and a really good translator.

What To Do When Your Burden Is Overwhelming

Cast your burden on the Lord . . . —Psalm 55:22

 

 

We must recognize the difference between burdens that are right for us to bear and burdens that are wrong. We should never bear the burdens of sin or doubt, but there are some burdens placed on us by God which He does not intend to lift off. God wants us to roll them back on Him— to literally “cast your burden,” which He has given you, “on the Lord . . . .” If we set out to serve God and do His work but get out of touch with Him, the sense of responsibility we feel will be overwhelming and defeating. But if we will only roll back on God the burdens He has placed on us, He will take away that immense feeling of responsibility, replacing it with an awareness and understanding of Himself and His presence.

Many servants set out to serve God with great courage and with the right motives. But with no intimate fellowship with Jesus Christ, they are soon defeated. They do not know what to do with their burden, and it produces weariness in their lives. Others will see this and say, “What a sad end to something that had such a great beginning!”

“Cast your burden on the Lord . . . .” You have been bearing it all, but you need to deliberately place one end on God’s shoulder. “. . . the government will be upon His shoulder” (Isaiah 9:6). Commit to God whatever burden He has placed on you. Don’t just cast it aside, but put it over onto Him and place yourself there with it. You will see that your burden is then lightened by the sense of companionship. But you should never try to separate yourself from your burden.

Why We Lack Understanding

He commanded them that they should tell no one the things they had seen, till the Son of Man had risen from the dead —Mark 9:9

As the disciples were commanded, you should also say nothing until the Son of Man has risen in you— until the life of the risen Christ so dominates you that you truly understand what He taught while here on earth. When you grow and develop the right condition inwardly, the words Jesus spoke become so clear that you are amazed you did not grasp them before. In fact, you were not able to understand them before because you had not yet developed the proper spiritual condition to deal with them.

Our Lord doesn’t hide these things from us, but we are not prepared to receive them until we are in the right condition in our spiritual life. Jesus said, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” (John 16:12). We must have a oneness with His risen life before we are prepared to bear any particular truth from Him. Do we really know anything about the indwelling of the risen life of Jesus? The evidence that we do is that His Word is becoming understandable to us. God cannot reveal anything to us if we don’t have His Spirit. And our own unyielding and headstrong opinions will effectively prevent God from revealing anything to us. But our insensible thinking will end immediately once His resurrection life has its way with us.

“. . . tell no one . . . .” But so many people do tell what they saw on the Mount of Transfiguration— their mountaintop experience. They have seen a vision and they testify to it, but there is no connection between what they say and how they live. Their lives don’t add up because the Son of Man has not yet risen in them. How long will it be before His resurrection life is formed and evident in you and in me?

When the Angel Didn't Come

by Jon Bloom | March 30, 2012 (desiring god)





Luke says it so quickly, so matter-of-factly: “[Herod] killed James the brother of John with the sword” (Acts 12:2). In the flow of the story this little phrase sets the stage for Peter’s dramatic prison rescue by the angel. So that’s what we remember. When Peter later wrote, “The Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials” (2 Peter 2:9), this is the sort of rescue that easily comes to mind.

But the night that James sat in prison the angel didn’t come. I’m sure he prayed for an angel. He knew God could send one if he wanted to. An angel had already rescued him and the other disciples once before, in chapter 5. But this night there was no bright light, no chains falling off, no sleeping guards. Just desperate prayers and fitful dozing — if he slept at all.

Intentionally No Different

In the morning James was still in jail when the dreaded voice of the captain of the guard shouted, “Bring out the prisoner!” There was an anxiety-filled, prayerful walk to the place of execution. There was a pronouncement of guilt. Possibly there was an offer of pardon in exchange for recanting, followed by a refusal. There was a raised sword. There was a wince of fearful anticipation. No deliverance.

Or was there?

Jesus allowed the sword to fall on James as intentionally as he opened Peter’s prison door. So the death of James is as crucial for us to remember as the rescue of Peter. Why did God let James die?

This question is relevant because at some point most of us will find ourselves facing death, pleading for deliverance, and not receiving what we think we are asking for. And it points to a difficult lesson that all of Jesus’ disciples must learn: Jesus often has different priorities than we do. What may feel desperately urgent to us may not be urgent to him — at least not in the same way.

Afraid of the Wrong Thing

Remember how Jesus slept in the boat during the storm? The disciples panicked at the fear of drowning and cried out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38). He calmed the storm and then said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”

Jesus’ lesson was clear: you’re afraid of the wrong thing. Don’t fear what or who can kill your body, but fear and trust me because I rule over storms and death (Matthew 10:28). Jesus knew that there were more dangerous “storms” ahead for the disciples, ones that would kill them. They needed to know whom to fear.

And so do we. Unless Jesus returns first (maranatha!), every one of us will face a storm that will kill us. And our initial response may be similar to the disciples’ in the boat: Jesus, don’t you care that I am perishing? In that moment we need to remember that he cares deeply. He who wept beside Lazarus’ tomb will weep with us — and he will raise us. And we need to remember that he knows what death is like and will be with us and help us say as he said to the Father, “Not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39).

A Better Life to Give

And we also need to remember James, who faced death “refusing to accept release that [he] might rise again to a better life” (Hebrews 11:35). There is the real key to understanding Acts 12:2 — Jesus let James die because he had a better life to give him. James was not being neglected by Jesus. He was in fact the first of the Twelve to experience what Jesus prayed for in John 17:24: “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 me from the foundation of the world.” Peter’s deliverance from prison was remarkable. But he lived to die another day. James experienced the true deliverance: death being swallowed up by the Resurrection and the Life.

And that is what Jesus longs and intends to give to us too. That’s what he endured the Father’s wrath on the cross to purchase for us. He wants us to see and enjoy and rejoice in his glory forever.

There will come a time when Jesus’ prayer for us to be with him will overrule our prayer for prolonged earthly life. And when it does, we will experience a life so far better, richer, fuller, purer, and more joyful that we will shake our heads in wonder that we were ever reluctant to leave here.

May God cause this reality to become more real to us all.