12 posts tagged “jesus”
But what gives us the motivation to do good? They say that Jesus' message was the kingdom of God. They then explain that the kingdom of God is a just society where the poor are fed and everyone is equal. Some say that the Cross is almost a distraction from that. That we need to get back to doing all the good that Jesus talked about.
But why would we, as humans, decide to do good, even after a really good teaching about doing good? And could we on our own, do all this good?
Are we going to do good even if Jesus Christ Himself appeared on our doorstep and said, 'Feed the poor'? No. I wouldn't. I may try for a while, but I'd give up eventually, after a bout with selfishness, slothfulness, or when I'm too absorbed in seeking my own pleasure. When I'm too busy trying to meet my own needs through addictions to consider the needs of others.
Jesus came with a message that His kingdom, one that was not of this world, is at hand. I don't know if He's talking about Heaven. I don't know if He's talking about the new earth He'll create sometime after His return. I don't know if He's talking about the way to live the Christian life. Nor do I know what He means by His kingdom being 'at hand'. Does that mean it's coming soon or it's here for the taking? God hasn't given me a clear answer yet of what His kingdom actually is in my studies of the Bible.
But I do know, that there is no way that I'm going to do the good Jesus speaks of as being a part of His kingdom on my own. The message Jesus gave me a few years ago was that I needed to be saved. That I was lost in sin. I was a slave to it. I couldn't do any good even if I wanted to. I had to obey my sin and selfish desire over any desire I may have had to help others.
He kindly and mercifully, though intensely, left me in the kind of desperation that led me to repentance and agreement with Him that I needed Him. He pointed me to the work of the Cross through which He then saved me. He is changing me and making me someone brand new. He is giving me His grace and His power to do the good He has called me to. I do good not because doing good is the Gospel. I do good because I've been transformed by the Gospel into someone who can and wants to do good.
Jesus' message is that we need to be saved. (John 3:17) We need to be set free. (Galatians 3:22) It is for freedom that God has set us free. (Galatians 5:1) And we are to use that freedom to serve one another in love. (Galatians 5:13) How else could we do it, serve one another, other than through the freedom of the Cross? "Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there." (Galatians 5:24)
I've been reading again. Not very fast and not very much, but I am very much enjoying having this gift of reading back.
I've read two very different books this past month and a half, Vintage Jesus by Mark Driscoll and Gerry Breshears and Culture of Death: The Assault on Medical Ethics in America by Wesley J. Smith.
Book One
I chose Vintage Jesus because it promised to give a sort of 'theology lesson' in response to today's lack of basic Bible knowledge. I've been acquiring a taste for theology and doctrine again. The prospect of studying those things has been scary for me considering how much spiritual abuse I endured as a child in the name of both.
In addition, God spent about two years knocking out most of the legalism in me disguised as theology and doctrine to get to the 'heart' stuff and to establish a relationship between the two of us and His community. So, I have a worry that studying theology and doctrine will take me back into legalism.
But the book Vintage Jesus seemed 'light' enough according to various reviews I read of it. More importantly, after watching Mark Driscoll's teachings online, he seemed truthful enough. In addition, Mark Driscoll is a Reformed pastor, and I was curious about Reformed theology. However, the book didn't get too much into Reformed theology as much as it did basic theology.
Still, it felt very good to read basic theology again. I had not really done so, except where it pertained to areas of inner healing, since I was in elementary school. I loved theology as a kid, the real, truthful theology, because it felt like history and the reasons for the history. I loved history and true stories as a kid, as well as, 'the reason for it all'. Still do.
However, this book didn't go beyond much of the basics, and I was left asking a lot of questions. The book, I think, addressed of lot of 'Who', 'what', 'where', and 'when' questions, like Who was/is Jesus?, what did/does He do?, and when/where did/will it all take place?, but I found myself asking a lot of why and how questions. Not a bad thing, I guess. Just leaves me curious for more theology.
I was put off at first by author Mark Driscoll's sophomoric humor and his sureness in making rude, and even crude, comments. He makes a lot of off color remarks (such as referring to 'liberals' as 'limp wristed') and made a lot of 'he's crazy' and 'he needs to take his medication' jokes, doing what a lot of us do, using 'crazy' and 'sinful' interchangeably.
But beyond the offensive jokes, his love of Jesus shone brightly and the glimpses he gave of his own testimony gave a lot of glory to God. So, I stuck out reading the book, and I'd recommend it, but with caution because of the rude and crude humor.
Book Two
Wesley J. Smith's book Culture of Death, though, I recommend even though I'm sure any reader with any kind of heart will be offended. As in the the subtitle, the book addresses the assault on medical ethics.
The relatively new field of bioethics is on its way to taking over the medical field and is becoming an ideology in itself. "Where medical ethics deals with the behavior of doctors in their professional lives vis-a-vis their patients, bioethics... focuses on the relationship between medicine, health, and society", pages 4-5. This means that the Hippocratic method of doctors doing what is best for their patients first (in fact many, if not most, doctors do not even take the Hippocratic oath anymore) is being abandoned for the bioethical ideals of what is 'best for society'.
The implications of this leads to things like legalized assisted suicide and euthanasia (for reasons such as easing the burden of family members who have a very sick family member or a family member with a severe cognitive disability). In addition, Futile Care Theory, where medicine is rationed, leaving the most sick and vulnerable medically neglected, is being practiced so that 'limited' resources can go to those with the best possibility for the greatest 'quality of life'.
The book addresses that society is abandoning the 'equality of life' ethic and actually valuing some lives as unworthy of life. Those designated 'unfit' in eugenics theory and 'useless eaters' during the Third Reich are now being termed 'nonpersons' in contemporary bioethics.
Smith sums us this book with this paragraph:
Whatever our moral future- whether based on life's inherent equality or upon subjective judgments of quality- that which we sow through our public policies and ethics protocols, we surely shall reap in the way in which we and those we love are treated in our individual lives. We all age. We fall ill. We grow weak. We become disabled. A day comes when our need to receive from our fellows adds up to far more than our ability to give in return. When we reach that stage of life, will we still be cherished, cared for, valued? Will we still be deemed persons, entitled to equal protection under the law? These are the questions that hang in the balance as we enter the new century.
This is a must read, or even a must 'skim through', not just for those in the field of medicine or healthcare, but for all of us. These are society's responsibilities. We need to know these things to be informed voters. More importantly, though, as Christians (this was not a Christian book) we need to informed pray-ers.
That's it?
So, that's it for my summer reading... But, I think I'd like to read something else. Any suggestions?
I'll admit, I had to watch this video a couple of times to really understand it. I knew God used suffering for good, but I'd never thought of God as redeeming suffering. Sin, sure, but suffering, too? But the idea is begining to make sense to me, and I feel amazed and humbled by the character of God. (Watch the video here or on YouTube with links to the rest of this talk.)
Ah, to be posting again. Don't quite know what to write yet, as I did not know I'd have the opportunity to come to the library today and get online.
It's begining to quiet down here at the ol' library; I suppose the usually groups of loud -precious, but LOUD- kids have all gone home to homework and bed.
Speaking of young ones I had an awesome opportunity to pray with some kids last week. I went with some women from church to a free clinic, and we wandered around, helping where we could and praying for whomever was open to receiving.
A young patient aged 5 and named L caught my eye; he seemed so joyful. I asked his father if I could pray for L and then kneeled down next to him and talked with him for a bit. Then I asked him if he wanted to talk to Jesus with me. It was SO much fun, to talk with Jesus how I used to know Jesus as a kid myself. Very openly but simply, we went to Jesus, and Jesus and I showered this boy with the Truth that he is SO precious to the Jesus Who wants to make him feel better.
Praying for L, another boy, and a few other people, I left that clinic in such a good mood. I had entered God's presence, insecurely at first, but by the end quite, well, relatively, anyway, comfortably. I am so grateful for needy people. Not that I wish others to have needs, but by the needy being around, I'm reminded of the God Who wants to meet needs- and that only in complete awareness that I am needy can I receive help and healing. I was reminded that it was just a couple of years ago that I was very much in a needy position, several needy positions, in fact, including complete povery. Meeting L and the others, I'm reminded how important it is that I remain in a needy place and recognize that I NEED God so much.
Okay, it's getting loud here again. I suppose I'll get off of here. 'S ALWAYS good to write!
I love this commercial. I love the idea of running over all the labels and assumptions about who I am and what I can do based on this or that. I love screaming (well, in my head, anyway) "I define me!" "I will tell you who I am!"
I am also learning to appreciate, after tossing out the assumptions and labels of man, the freedom of not defining myself after all, but, instead, of letting myself be defined by my Creator. Because He created me, He knows who I truly am, and, in Him, I can be exactly how I was created to be. He may tell me what my gifts are and are not, why I think the way I think, why I feel the way I feel, how I should look on the outside, and how my heart is to look as He molds it and makes it more like Jesus.
I refute you who attempt to define what I am or who I am supposed to be based on my faults, failures, successes, personality, height, hair color, or diagnosis' and claim, instead, my worth and identity and definition in Christ. Respectfully and with love.
Exalt the Lord our God!
Bow low before his feet, for he is holy!
Psalm 99:5
Oh, Jesus, Your feet
May I lie here
and in peace
be still
May I be held here
and behold
the feet that I call home
I kiss your feet and taste iron...
17. When I saw him, I fell at his feet as if I were dead. But he laid his right hand on me and said, 18. I am the living one. I died, but look—I am alive forever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and the grave.
Revelation 1:17-18
And today is Good Friday.
In prayer lately, at the mention of the name of Jesus, I sometimes sense really clearly, the suffering of the cross. At first, I saw His feet and what they must have looked like with nails driven through them. They are filthy and bloody. Were they swollen, as all his body's water and fluids were pushed down by gravity with no place for Jesus to lie flat until He rested in the grave? His feet look are so human, like any man's. But they are also the feet of God, and that amazes me.
Sometimes, I focus on his torso and the smell of sweat. Now, of course, I imagine the smell of blood permeated the air, and perhaps even urine. For after all that torture and suffering, I am sure the Romans gave Him no bathroom breaks. But it is the smell of sweat, for some reason, I sense the most.
Now, for the past few days, I've seen His hands. Nails driven through. I can imagine physically, the disgusting feeling of an entire body hanging from hands or wrists or whatever. I can feel the creepy feeling in my stomach of nerves being deadened or tingling. Just the horror that your body is not supposed to be in this position.
Oh, the pain of the suffering. And the pain of looking upon it.
The physical pain and the physical suffering that killed His body was probably little compared,however, to the spiritual pain of taking on every single sin of every single person in the world. I know the pain that even one of the millions of my sins inflicts my soul, and He took on not only my millions but every person's millions of sins. What was that like?
And then to have His Father reject Him. Forsake Him. The love between God and His Son is a passionate, great, and mysterious love, greater than any romance could ever be, and for that moment He was rejected by the One Who loved Him most and by the One Whom He loved the most. Everything Jesus did on Earth was for the Father and in the name of the Father. Everywhere in the Bible, God points to His Son. But at the moment of the Cross, God turned His back on His Beloved, and Jesus felt the pain of rejection no human has to feel. None of us has to be rejected by the Father now, because Jesus took it for us.
What conflicting emotions derive from such a thing. How is it that I feel gratitude for someone's such suffering? How can I be glad that He did this? But I am. For it is painful to be separated from the Father, the One Whom I was created to love and to be loved by. It is hopeless to be enslaved to sin, and now I am not.
So, thank you, Jesus, for the cross. And I am so sorry you had to do it. I am humbled by Your humiliation. Make me love You the way You love me.
Interesting the movie The Passion of the Christ. Everyone I know has such strong feelings about it, from those who were completely broken by the movie to those who adamantly refuse to see it. For me, this movie was one of the things God used to bring me back to Him during a time in my life when I was trying to walk on my own. I say trying to walk, because it was more like a slow, scarring slither on a bunch of rocks.
There is something about The Passion of the Christ that makes me want to see it over and over again. Not like a typical movie I like to watch a lot, like Elf or Girl Interrupted, where I pop popcorn and veg on the couch with friends or by myself. When The Passion of the Christ is playing, it's all I'm focused on.
When the movie begins, legalistic? instinct to mentally check the movie over for 'doctrinal correctness' kicks in; doctrinal correctness may be over-used in my spiritual life, but it's not always a bad thing. Eventually, my mind relaxes, as the heart of the movie just feels like Truth. I move into something like emotion mode, and emotionally, I am always in shock at first. Then I begin to feel so much when I watch it, this unidentified emotion that I think is Love. And pain.
Every time I watch it, I come away with something else, not so much because of Mel Gibson's excellent direction of the movie, but what must be the Holy Spirit's teaching of my heart. At my third viewing of the movie, I began to understand the difference between obeying out of fear verses obeying out of love. Would a Father rather his child follow Him (get saved) because the child was afraid of punishment (going to hell) or would the Father rather his child follow Him out of reverent love?
I found a journal entry from a couple of years ago I had written after just seeing the movie.
"I've seen The Passion a couple of times, and I want to see it again. I feel like I'm not getting the point of it enough. I don't feel bad enough about it or bothered enough about what Jesus did for me on the cross.
The pain and suffering one human life endures as the consequence of sin is horrible enough. I know this just by looking at my life. My life seems unbearable at times, and Jesus not only took on my sin, but literally billions of others.
Why? Wouldn't it have been easier after the fall for God to have said, "You failed" and turn His back. He could've started over, created a new planet and new creatures. Does He really love us that much. Does He really love me that much?
I think of this, and I cry. But not enough. I don't feel bad enough. I don't stop my sinning.
What does it mean when people say, "God broke my heart". Is it something like these thoughts, because if I truly thought about the cross, His pain, and my role in all of this, my heart would explode."
