- Social Justice Part I – Environmentalism: A Theology of Creation Care
- The Deep Blue Church
- Salvation is Liberation: Part I
- Living Water John 4:1-42
- 2020: My Year in Review
Have a great end to your year. See you in 2021.
Have a great end to your year. See you in 2021.
2020 has been one of the most challenging years of my entire life. First, I tackled the new year as a single person for the first time in seven years. Unemployed, with no money, and depression literally crushing me, I had no idea what 2020 would hold. I tried to study, but in the first half of the year, my mental health got the better of me, and I woefully failed. I couldn’t bring myself to find employment; there were days I couldn’t do anything but stare at my phone in an open-eyed coma silently screaming to God for something to change. COVD-19 hit us all; isolation wasn’t just a mental health issue; it was a physical necessity as Australia battled the first wave of the pandemic. Doubt started to crash upon the shores of my mind and heart. I doubted the existence of God; I questioned my place in the world, my life. Every day was a numbing haze of uncertainty and a mental void as I lived each moment almost on autopilot. Books became mush in my hands as the words fell off the pages. The Bible, church, and prayer became God walking through Garden calling out to me as I hid from them (Him) in video games and meaningless distractions.
There were some good times. I started therapy (which I need to go back to). I had supporting friends (they probably didn’t know half of what I was going through). The times we could meet helped me get out of my rut even if they were too fleeting. I met someone new who interestingly enough is an art psychotherapist and a Christian. God has used her to make sense of what I’m going through, and she has encouraged me to get back onto the Path (relationships are always sanctifying). Coffee still tastes good. However, I’ve gone off soy, and I’m onto oat milk now. Seriously, try it. It’s both good for the environment, and it tastes like regular milk. This year God has had me go through some vast transformations regarding my theology around the environment, and with me coming to terms with some of my racial bias’.
Nevertheless, despite some significant change, the world still feels a little less colourful, and a little less bright. Even writing this blog is so much of a mental effort even though I love to write. …. Where am I going with this? I suppose, if nothing else, I want to write to other people who are like me. To those who know God exists yet, He never seems to speak. To those who know that miracles exist yet they seem to only happen in fairy tales. To those who know life is full of beauty and goodness, yet they’ve been without it for so long they’ve forgotten what that means.
I. Totally. Get. It.
I can’t remember the last time God ever spoke to me from the Bible or otherwise. I can’t remember when I saw something miraculous and jumped for joy. I can’t remember the last time I saw colour, or truly enjoyed the smell of saltwater in the air or the sand between my toes. I can’t remember getting that intellectual buzz from a good book or sermon or having a genuine laugh with a good friend. The love of a woman (or a man), fine wine, good food and friendship all seem like out-of-body experiences for the depressed. Unfortunately, I’m not much better than the rest of you so I can only offer some tiny pieces of advice.
I’m not some guru on life or mental health. This is all new (and old) to me. Life is hard. It does suck. It is full of pain and hardships. There are no easy silver bullets or seven steps to a better life. Anyone who says otherwise is full of shit. We do have a lot to look forward to, though. If you’re like me, then you believe that Jesus is coming back to wipe away every tear from every eye. To right every wrong. To make all things new again. I know it feels like you’re hanging on to a thread, and you’ve heard it a million times (and then some), but stay with me here as we walk after Jesus together. I can’t ever guarantee you an easy life, but I can promise a life with purpose, forgiveness and hope. That’s more than what many others find.
Should Christians be environmentalists? Yes. The Church in the West has always done a great job of presenting the Gospel of forgiveness. However, this has often come at the expense of the Gospel that transforms, not only humanity but all of God’s creation. Sandra L. Richter addresses these issues with rich biblical theology as she brings to light what the Bible has to say about the environment, and the Christians place in caring for it. Richter’s book is a must-read for anyone who takes climate change seriously, and who reads Genesis 1-2 and wants to live out humanity’s vocation with rich theological nuance.
2. Reading While Black by Esau McCaulley
Theology throughout church history (especially within the past five hundred years) has been dominated by white western males. Even as I look upon my bookshelf, or as I scroll through my resources on Logos, I’m hard-pressed to find any resources that I haven’t deliberately gone out and purchased that weren’t from someone who was a different ethnicity from me (apart from the early church fathers of course). Insight, wisdom, and meaning is dynamic and can take on various forms depending on one’s cultural lens. Even from within our borders, growing up as an upper-middle classed white male on the Coast can elicit different interpretations from God’s Word, rather than a marginalised lower classed black or aboriginal child living in the West. Esau McCaulley’s book wonderfully demonstrates how a black (African-American) reading of the Bible is an invaluable tradition for the wider church to tap into as it tackles some of the biggest social concerns of our day. Another must-read for anyone wanting to meaningfully engage with the problem of racism and inclusivism in our modern-day.
3. From Every People and Nation: A Biblical Theology of Race by J. Daniel Hays
It can be incredibly easy to forget that you are not the main character of the biblical story. In fact, the protagonist is God; everyone else is either the damsel in distress or the villain taking them captive and corrupting the world around (this includes you). Furthermore, despite the focus of the Bible on the nation of Israel, from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22, the Bible is concerned about every tribe and nation, not just American or Australia. An oldy (2003) but a goldi, Daniel J, Hayes takes a deep dive into a biblical theology of race and ethnicity as he traces these themes throughout the biblical narrative. His book makes us pause and contemplate our place in redemptive history as we come to terms with our identity and shared humanity in the family of God. Read this book if you care what the Bible has to say about race.
4. Untangling Emotions by J. Alasdair Groves and Winston T. Smith
As someone who wrestles with depression and the occasional spout of anxiety, this book could not have come at a better time. Emotions are messy, complicated, and often hard to make sense of. J. Alasdair Groves and Winston T. Smith helped me to come to terms with my emotions and realise that they’re something to embrace rather than suppress or run away from. Humans are crazy, and if you’re even half as crazy as me (or more), then read this book and start putting together the puzzle that is you.
Rumi was a 13th-century Sufi mystic, theologian and scholar that has been recognised as one of the greatest poets in history. Despite not being Christian, Rumi has had a profound impact on me this past year in my battle with depression and the world around me. Rumi has a unique way of expressing the inexpressible. Or, as T. S. Elliot once said, “poetry is a raid on the inarticulate.” Here is one particular poem that spoke to me this past year:
I was going to tell you my story
but waves of pain drowned my voice.
I tried to utter a word but my thoughts
became fragile and shattered like glass.
Even the largest ship can capsize
in the stormy sea of love,
let alone my feeble boat,
which shattered to pieces leaving me nothing
but a strip of wood to hold on to.
Small and helpless, rising to heaven
on one wave of love and falling with the next,
I don’t even know if I am or I am not.
When I think I am, I find myself worthless,
when I think I am not, I find my value.
Like my thoughts, I die and rise again each day
so how can i doubt the resurrection?
Tired of hunting for love in this world,
at last, I surrender in the valley of love
and become free.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī
The outcome or ultimate goal of spiritual formation is described in Scripture in a variety of general ways: “righteousness” (Matt 5:20; Eph 4:24), doing the Father’s will (Matt 7:22; 12:50; 1 John 2:17), transformed into Christ’s image (Rom 8:29; 2 Cor 3:18) / God’s image and likeness (Eph 4:24; Col 3:10), holiness (Eph 4:24; 1 Pet 1:15), godliness (1 Tim 2:2; 4:8), obedience (1 Pet 1:14), etc. Other words or phrases are used to describe the outcome of spiritual formation more specifically: “fruit” (Rom 7:4; Gal 5:22), “works” (Jas 2:14–26), “a new life” (Rom 6:4), “no longer . . . slaves to sin” (Rom 6:6), to “live as Jesus did” (1 John 2:6), etc.
The ‘umbrella’ word used to describe what all the above terms and phrases are driving at is love (Rom 13:8; 1 Cor 13:13; Gal 5:6, 14; Jas 2:8; 1 Pet 4:8; John 13:34–35; 15:12; 1 John 3:14, 16; 4:7–11). The reason love is the umbrella word used to describe the Spiritually formed life is because every one of God’s commands is an expression of love (Rom 13:9). For it is love that sums up the Law and the Prophets (Matt 7:12; 22:36–40; Rom 13:8–10). Love, in other words, is the defining mark of a Christian. However, love is not something that we define. Love has been prescribed for us: it is seen in Jesus laying down his life on the cross for us (Rom 5:6–8; John 3:16; 15:13; 1 John 4:10). Hence, to love others, in the way that the Bible thinks about love, is to love as Jesus loved (e.g., John 13:34; 15:12; Eph 5:2, 25).
None of the descriptions in the above two paragraphs can be achieved by merely keeping more laws or commands, regardless of how diligently or sincerely. Real spiritual formation is not only outward and cannot even be summed up as mere obedience, even committed obedience. Obedience is certainly a way to describe the spiritually formed life, but outward obedience without inward change is nothing more than Pharisaic formation (see, e.g., Matt 15:8; 23:25). Neither should we think that the above paragraphs describe a sinless state. Spiritual formation is a journey, hence the reason the Christian life is often described as a “walk” (e.g., Eph 4:1). Furthermore, one can be holy/righteous/obedient/bear fruit, etc. without being ‘sinless.’ This is clear from something like the Sermon on the Mount, which essentially describes the surpassing righteous life while at the same time acknowledging the need for forgiveness of sins (Matt 6:12).
Because spiritual formation is not limited to outward change, no amount of motivation and willpower can produce it. One may as well try and push a camel through the eye of a needle (Matt 19:24). The two necessary ingredients—if I can call them “ingredients”—for spiritual formation are faith and the Spirit. The Spirit is essential because spiritual formation is ultimately supernatural and not only beyond our mere human abilities but beyond our inclinations. Furthermore, because spiritual formation is also internal, the Spirit is the only one who is able to go to work in the deepest parts of our being (see Eph 3:16). Faith (in Christ) is necessary because the Spirit only works through faith (e.g., Gal 3:1–5). This is best seen in Galatians 5, where faith in Christ produces love (Gal 5:6), but the Spirit also produces love (Gal 5:22). Hence, the righteous will live by faith (Rom 1:17), but it is the Spirit that enables one to live a righteous life (Rom 8:4). Faith produces obedience (Rom 1:5; 16:16; 1 Thess 1:3; Jas 2:14–26) but so too does the Spirit (Rom 7:6; 1 Pet 1:2). Both faith and the Spirit are necessary (Gal 5:5).
To explain this further, the basic principle behind spiritual formation is that we become like what we worship, or in the words of Psalm 115:8, we become like what we have faith in. (Thus, genuine faith and worship cannot be separated). This is true of those who have faith in idols (e.g., Ps 135:18; Isa 44:9; Jer 2:5), but equally true when talking about Christian spiritual formation. For example, faith in Christ who “loved” us by dying for us (Gal 2:20) produces “love” for others (Gal 5:6). The principle is best summarised in 2 Corinthians 3:18 where those who behold “the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.” But notice how this happens: through “the Spirit” (2 Cor 3:18). Such was Moses’ experience who upon seeing the glory of the LORD, “worshipped” (Ex 34:8) and was subsequently transformed (34:29–35). Isaiah, likewise, saw the LORD—described as Jesus’ “glory” in John 12:41—and was transformed (Isa 6). Thus, when we finally see Christ face to face “we shall be like him” (1 John 3:2). In summary, then, worship of Christ/seeing Christ/faith in Christ leads to transformation. And because one can only worship/see/have faith through the Spirit, transformation, or spiritual formation is ultimately something that is God’s doing. But it is only God’s doing in the sense that he is forming himself in us and working to transform every part of us, so that as Paul says, we might “be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Eph 3:19).
The dynamic at work here, briefly, is that our hearts influence our conduct, attitudes and how we live (e.g., Matt 15:18–19), but it is “treasure” that influences our hearts (Matt 6:21). Treasure is simply that which we worship or trust in; treasure engages our affections! Hence, it is treasure and not law that moves the heart, and it is the heart that determines how we live. The point is that it is not enough to simply fix or deal with the heart, one must focus the heart on the right treasure, which is Christ and his rule (e.g., Matt 13:44). This explains why the apostle Paul, for example, resolved to “boast” in and “preach” nothing “except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor 2:2; see also Gal 6:14). For in the cross is power to save and transform (1 Cor 1:18—2:5). In the cross, we see the glory of Christ (John 7:39; 12:16, 23; 17:1, etc.), which among other things means that in the cross we see the full heart and character of the Father revealed in his Son (John 1:14, 18). In short, we are put in contact with treasure / that which we can trust in and worship.
This gets to the heart of what Paul means by walking by the Spirit. The Spirit’s goal is to glorify Christ (John 15:26; 16:14), and it is only through trusting and treasuring Christ that we have any hope of resisting the desires of the flesh (Rom 8:13; Gal 5:16) in a way that brings glory to God (see also 1 Pet 2:11–12).
To put this another way, everyone will experience transformation, but the transformation we will experience will be determined by what we treasure/worship/trust in. This process then will happen regardless. This helps explain why spiritual formation is not passive. The person who treasures money or career does not sit idly by waiting for money or their career to change their life. The same is true for those who treasure Christ and the life he offers (see, e.g., Matt 6:33). We do not become transformed people through some kind of divine osmosis.
Hence, while God’s “divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through” knowing Christ (2 Pet 1:3), we are also to “make every effort” (2 Pet 1:5, 10; 3:14). And yet making every effort, as defined by Peter here, is not and cannot be the kind of effort that produces outstanding outward obedience, but with no or little change in the heart. The rich young ruler serves as a good example. By all accounts, he was a man characterized by effort in his approach toward God’s commandments. However, his effort was powerless to move his heart when asked by Jesus to sell his possessions and give to the poor (Matt 19:16–22). The kind of effort that Peter is talking about is the effort required to trust in God’s “very great and precious promises,” for it is through these promises that we “participate in the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4). Since promises are received by faith, making every effort is to trust that one has been “cleansed from their past sins” (2 Pet 1:9)—that is, to grow in grace (2 Pet 1:18)—to trust in the sure and reliable Word of God (2 Pet 1:16–21; 3:2), to be vigilant about those that would seek to distort God’s Word and his promises and trust the warnings against those who don’t (2 Pet 2; 3:3–7, 16–17), and to patiently rely in the future restoration of the new heavens and new earth (2 Pet 3:8–15).
Effort must be driven by faith; otherwise it is powerless. And “everything that does not come from faith is sin” (Rom 14:23). Faith produced effort will be Spirit or divine produced effort (see, e.g., Phil 2:12–13). For example, if we become like what we trust in or worship, this means that those who trust in idols will lack the ability to speak, see, hear, smell, feel, etc. since that is what idols are like (Ps 115:4–8). In other words, those who trust in idols will lack the ability to ‘experience’[1] God. One way to illustrate how this works in spiritual formation is from Hebrews 12:14: “Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness, no one will see the Lord.” “Every effort to live in peace”—defined here as “holiness”—is driven by the desire to “see the Lord,” whether that being seeing the Lord in eternity (1 John 3:2) or now (Eph 1:18). I, therefore, make every effort to live in peace, trusting that my eyes will be opened further to God. Or Matthew 5:8: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” Again, the effort required to be pure in heart is driven by the desire to want to see God. I, therefore, make every effort to be pure in heart, trusting that my eyes will be opened further to God. In this way, a number of things from above come together:
When this is understood, the role of spiritual disciplines (e.g., prayer, reading God’s word, etc.) is understood as various means of serving us in the spiritual formation process. They serve us in the same way that a phone or cutlery might serve us: they put us in contact with the person on the other end of the phone or with the food on our plate. They are not an end in themselves, and neither do they necessarily define a spiritually formed person. Clouds are necessary for rain, but the presence of clouds does not mean rain. Similarly, spiritual disciplines are essential as we seek to know Christ, but their presence in our lives by no means indicate a (healthy) knowledge of Christ. The Pharisees being a case in point.
Life, of course, is not as neat and tidy as the above suggests. Tests are always coming at us, in the form of trials and temptations, to test our faith (Jas 1:2–4; 1 Pet 1:6–7). They may either rule us, in which case, escape, pleasure and comfort become more of a treasure than clinging to Christ (Luke 8:13–14). Or they may serve us, in which case, clinging to Christ becomes more of a treasure than escaping, pleasure or comfort offers (Rom 5:3–5; Jas 1:2–4). The reality is that “now we see only a reflection as in a mirror” (1 Cor 13:12), in other words, “what we will be has not yet been made known” (1 John 3:2). But once again, spiritual formation is a journey; and it is a journey of grace. The ego, because of its need to accomplish and be rewarded, resists grace and unconditional love. Grace effectively puts the ego (think of the “flesh”) out of a job. But there is power in grace to transform (Titus 2:11–12 cf. 1 Cor 15:10; Acts 11:23 and Isa 6:6–8). In fact, Paul articulates it well by indicating that it is only by experiencing Christ’s unconditional love that we experience “the fullness of God” (Eph 3:17–20), indeed this is the goal of spiritual formation. Thus, as we experience more of Christ’s grace and love, we become more like what we worship, Christ formed in us, loving others as Christ himself has loved us.
[1] I am using the word “experience” to summarise what idols cannot do in Ps 115:5–7.
By Alan P. Stanley
One of the things I both love and hate about Christianity are the tribes it inevitably creates around theological positions. I love it because there needs to be a sense in which we define what is true and good. I’m not too fond of it because often we settle and become passionate about second and third-order issues at the expense of other people. Tribalism drives me crazy. It makes sense because what you believe is inescapably intertwined with your identity and your worship of God. We reflect what we believe. We worship what we reflect and love. What we love we passionately defend ether for good or for worse.
Here’s the thing. Before we become theologians, before we’re biblically sound, before we know what we believe (if you ever get there right on!) before we keep others at arm’s length because they believe in some different things to us, we must remember that 1. They’re image-bearers like you and 2. You’re a sinner just like them. Do they believe women can be pastors? Don’t forget they’re image-bearers and sinner just like you. Do they think the gifts of the spirit have continued into the modern-day? Remember they’re image-bearers and sinners just like you. Do they struggle with same-sex attraction? Remember they’re image-bearers and sinners just like you. Are they liberal? Are they evolutionists, do they like modern songs more than hymns or vice versa? Are they Reformed, Charismatic, Anglican, in a cult, heretics? Remember they bear the image of God and you are a sinner as well. All of these issues are important and are worth discussing (I love theology remember). However, I don’t believe these discussions and forming opinions and beliefs around these ideas need to necessarily come at the cost of genuine love for neighbour and God. While we naturally want to stick to our own, might I suggest another way? Trans-Tribal Christianity.
Tans-tribal Christianity is a label (ironic I know) I’m throwing out there to define a way of doing Christianity without ostracizing, isolating, or rejecting others within the Faith while still holding to your own beliefs and convictions. You’re going to be naturally drawn to some and not others. Ordinarily, you’ll worship in a church that is tailored more towards your own beliefs and convictions. However, I want to advocate for a more inclusive way of doing Christianity without compromising on “truth.” You might believe in a precise definition of the Gospel, or in the way a Christian should do church on a Sunday. Good. Hold on to that. However, We should have enough love and humility to see the potential wisdom in others. We don’t need to treat others as “second rate Christians” just because they believe the Lord’s Supper should be taken every week rather than once a month. We shouldn’t turn our nose up to people who see the Bible and the world a little bit different to us. Instead of immediately defending yourself and your position begin with the question “what can they teach me?” You might be surprised at what you learn.
Full disclosure. Some of this comes from a reflection of my own experience. I’m an evolutionary creationist. I have a literary approach to Scripture. On occasion I see myself agreeing with liberal Christians over conservative ones. I read scholars who in some circles are seen as edgy and semi liberal, where in others they’re orthodox. I have a Reformed ecclesiology, but I’m more Arminian soteriologically. I’m a mixed bag, and it feels like I never really fit in anywhere. Yet, I have friends from all over the spectrum, and it’s got me thinking. What if we can aim for a little more unity in our theological diversity? What if we can sit down and learn more openly from one another. I’m not suggesting we trade theological accuracy for unity. I’m suggesting we aim for a loving, humble unity – a friendship with others that doesn’t need to compromise our convictions. Friendship, understanding, and empathy with others who are different doesn’t need to come at the cost of our own doctrine. So here are some steps you could take the begin this journey (if you haven’t already):
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.
– Psalm 13:1-4
Just the other day I was in the car with my girlfriend Sarah driving as she was speeding down a street to get to MacDonald’s. I said “I’m not so sure of my salvation that if we were to die right now, I’d be in Heaven. Please slow down.” Immediately she slowed down and then asked me, “you’re not sure of your salvation?” “No” I replied. For some reason, Sarah could not fathom my doubt, and it hasn’t been the only time. Often, especially these days, I doubt my Christianity, my salvation, and even God. For some Christians like Sarah, this is hard to imagine. She’s had such tangible experiences with God to doubt His existence or to question His love for you is like doubting whether gravity or air exists. However, for me, I can’t even begin to imagine a life filled with such confidence. Just think of it, a life where no matter the situation you trust God with such unwavering faith that you never doubt His love for you let alone His existence. What bliss!
I envy people like that. I wish I just knew that everything I read and understood in Scripture is true without a shadow of a doubt. But I just can’t. I don’t know if it’s my sinful nature, Satan, whether I’m a product of post-modernism. I’m afraid. I’m so scared that I’ll believe the wrong things and die on the wrong side of whatever ends up being true. I’m always questioning myself and my doctrine. I’m continually wondering if what I think is right, is true. Perhaps I should attempt to lay aside my doubt and just swallow everything I’ve been taught hook, line, and sinker. The very thought makes me cringe – sick in fact! Yet the idea of living in doubt is just as crippling.
There are small comforts. I see real people in the Bible live with doubt. David, in his darkest moments, seems to question if God will ever act (story of my life). Peter doubted Jesus when asked to walk on water (Matt 14:30-31). Thomas doubted and needed to touch the risen Lord (John 20:24-29). Sure doubt is not something great, but it’s very human. I just want to say doubting is entirely normal. It’s expected. Uncertainty is something to live by and to fight against. The human experience is the constant battle between assurance and the doubt you experience from day-to-day. Living in the tension between these two experiences is very, very human. You are not the only one. Almost everyone wrestles with questions and ideas they’ve held to their entire lives. It’s good to test them and to hold fast to that which proves good. Embrace the journey.
I wonder if Jesus ever doubted anything? Immediately I want to say no. Maybe He didn’t. Yet when I read about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, I wonder if a certain sense of uncertainty was trying to overcome Him. The Scriptures say that His soul was filled with grief and that He asked the Father if He would take away the impending cup (the coming atonement). Yes, Jesus immediately said “not my will but yours,” but why even express that unless doubt was crouching at the door wanting to rule over Him right? To me, this makes Jesus all the more human, and all the more relatable without taking away His Godly nature.
What’s my point? I dunno. Perhaps I want to remove the stigma that surrounds doubt. I want to be able to explore my doubts without feeling like I have to have it all together to be a good Christian while at the same time, I want to strive for assurance. We all just need a little help, I think.
“Belief in God does not exempt us from feelings of abandonment by God. Praising God does not inoculate us from doubts about God.”
– Eugene Peterson
“I do not believe there ever existed a Christian yet, who did not now and then doubt his interest in Jesus. I think, when a man says, “I never doubt,” it is quite time for us to doubt him.”
– Charles Spurgeon
“I think the trouble with me is lack of faith… often when I pray I wonder if I am not posting letters to a non-existent address.”
– C.S. Lewis
Quite a lot of my posts are about suffering and pain, and for a good reason. Life is full of suffering, it is inescapable, and we all need to be continuously reminded that suffering is one of the primary ways in which God uses to grow you and transform you into something genuinely human – Jesus Christ. However, I can get bogged down in the tragedy of life a bit too much. It’s easy to be overcome by it and to always be suffering in unnecessary ways. Some of the pain and suffering we experience can be brought upon ourselves. To combat the unnecessary suffering we can create, I think we need to learn to love and appreciate the beautiful parts of life God has given us. Paul says, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Philip 4:8).
Paul experienced a lot of suffering (2 Cor 11:25), yet remarkably it seems to me that he didn’t lose perspective of the bigger picture. Remember, Paul was a first-century Pharisee that loved Jesus. He knew his Bible very well. So he would’ve known that the world was created for humanity to flourish in, rule over, and enjoy (Gen 1-2). Paul was fully aware that God’s good world was given to humanity as a gift to responsibly indulge in as opposed to being taken advantage of for a profit and gain. Paul knows that man and woman were made for each other, to enjoy one another, to love and to multiply rather than to abuse and use. Every bird and beast, every tree and shrub, every stream and beachside, every fig and pear (except apples), every person was made good for us to partake of, enjoy and love. Paul knew that despite our fallen and broken condition (Gen 3) God still wants this. Paul knows that his God has a plan to restore the entire created order to the state in which once again, humanity can be at one with the world and one another (Rom 8:22-24). So for Paul, every time he caught a glimpse of this anticipated hope, every time he saw people loving one another as themselves, every time he saw the God of Israel among His people the Church he would consider it lovey and excellent and worth meditating upon. God wants humans to enjoy the world they’ve been given. Suffering might be unavoidable, but so is the beauty of life, and there is a lot of it. You just need to do a bit of looking.
For me, learning to love life starts in three places:
Dear friend, you suffer, you hurt, I know these things. I experience them almost on the daily. While we all experience these things, there is hope. Jesus Christ, our Lord, has defeated satan, sin, and death. Already you can taste and see that the Lord is good and that life is to be enjoyed not just suffered through. Don’t lose perspective of the bigger picture. Hold fast to the hope we have in Christ. Be in awe of His greatness. Love your family and friends well and just go to the beach, or the mountains or down to the park and have a good drink and food and give thanks to the Lord. You’ll be better for it.
It has taken years to continue to live into the truth that if I believe we are from God and for God, then we are from Goodness and for Goodness. To greet sorrow today does not mean that sorrow will be there tomorrow. Happiness comes too, and grief, and tiredness, disappointment, surprise and energy. Chaos and fulfilment will be named as well as delight and despair. This is the truth of being here, wherever here is today. It may not be permanent but it is here. I will probably leave here, and I will probably return. To deny here is to harrow the heart. Hello to here. ―
One of my favourite verses in the Bible is; “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” – Romans 8:28. What a crazy beautiful verse. Amen, we yell. We post on Facebook and hang it up on our calendars and fridges. What. An. Encouragement. Yet, as I sit back and meditate over the depth of this verse, a sort of anxiety starts to creep over me. Anxiety? Fear? An uncomfortableness? I begin to realise that what God is saying is not a promise to spirit us away from trials, but rather to thrust us into it, guide us through it, and to make us more human as a result of it. That. Is. Scary. Wouldn’t you agree? Think about it. Now everything you do in life has meaning. There’s a point to everything. When you wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, love your family, fight with others, watch television, read books, go to church. It all has meaning. Every trial and tribulation, every breath you take is now being worked out towards a single goal, your good which is terrifying. Because now you can’t just ignore that fight you had with your wife, there’s meaning in the fight. You can’t just go to work, come home and forget about the day because there’s meaning in your work. You can’t just pick up a book, or watch a show and switch off because there’s meaning to what you’re taking in. Because when God says all things, He means all things, even your doubt. As the Teacher says:
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. – Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Life is now to be embraced rather than simply tolerated. Meditated on rather than dismissed. Lived rather than spectated. We now all walk towards the end goal which the Apostle Paul says here is our good. Like the theological poet, elsewhere, suffering is an unavoidable and an integral part of the Christian life.
says in the quote above, ” I believe we are from God and for God, then we are from Goodness and for Goodness.” We mustn’t forget, however, that goodness comes in all shapes and sizes, and often in ways, we don’t expect. In fact, in my experience, it is through the most suffering that the most amount of good has come about for me. The complete and perfect human Jesus Christ suffered and died, and in that is something very human that God longs to pass on to us. As I’ve arguedSo, if you want to be like Christ, then learn to suffer. Learn to love. Learn to anger well. Learn to find meaning in all things. In all things, ask yourself the question “what is God doing here for my good, what is He teaching me?”
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” – Annie Dillard
Friendship is hard. Really hard. I’m talking about real friendship, not the kind where you float into a room laugh, smile, shake hands, talk about movies and books, and then leave. That’s just social convention. That’s being friendly. Friendship is something, I think, a lot of us don’t really have. Real friendship, at least the kind I believe we all long for, the kind God wants us to have is exhausting, challenging, and painful. Yet, it’s addicting, beautiful, fun, and sanctifying. True friendship requires a lot of sacrifices. It requires a sacrifice of the ego, of your own desires. Humility is essential to intimacy. Why?
Throughout the 29 years of my life on this earth, I can only count three, maybe four real friendships that I’ve ever had. Two I see every week, one lives half a world away, and the other had fallen apart long before I even realised there was anything wrong. There is a fifth. Each of these relationships has been really different, complex, fun, and exhausting in different ways. The two I see every week requires constant engagement, attention, communication, love, service, sacrifice and humility. The problem though is that I suck at all these things. Despite being bullied my whole life, I continuously put one down (under the guise of Aussie humour) to make me feel better about myself. The other (and my best friend) I almost have nothing in common with outside of Jesus. Often when we meet, I have to feign interest in what he likes because I’m afraid that if I don’t listen to him, he won’t listen to my more important stories and mind-blowing (sarcasm) thoughts on theology and the universe. This is the problem with the ego (at least with mine). It sees my friends as a commodity, something to be used to form an identity, to achieve validation and as things to serve me rather than image-bearing people to love and serve. Real intimacy and friendship are scary because if I don’t lay aside my sinful and broken desires for the sake of those around me, I will end up losing the very people that God uses to make me holy in the first place.
So, there are a few things I need to get my head around and maybe they’ll help you as well.
Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honour. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. – Romans 12:9-13
So here’s my point. Let’s be better friends. See friendships as a God-given gift to heal the broken, to sanctify the sinner and for the flourishing of our souls. Lay aside “self” and honour the image of God that is the human you’re having intimacy with. Let God use them to soften you, to transform you into the likeness of His Son. At the end of the day, just get over yourself and love others as you want to be loved, right?
It’s been six months since my wife and I separated. Six months of battling depression. Six months of battling anxiety. Six months of battling doubts about God. Six months doubting my future and what it has to bring. Six months of some amazing highs. Six months of a lot of struggle and lows. Almost every day it feels like a challenge to get out of bed, shower and even drink coffee (the thing I love more than anything else). Almost every day there’s something new and overwhelming to face and I’m never really sure if I’m able to face it until all of a sudden I realise it’s midnight and I’ve got to do it all over again the next day. I want to cry. I want to run away. I want to scream. I want to punch something. I feel like the Psalmist who says:
For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength,
like one set loose among the dead,
like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
for they are cut off from your hand.
Psalm 88:3–5
Many days can only be described biblically as despair, the yoke is heavy, and I feel like I’ve gotten more than I can bear.
This isn’t a cry for help or attention. This isn’t me putting on a depressing show so I can get a pat on the back or a hug from you. This. Is. Life. I’ve been a Christian for over ten years now I can tell you right now that I’m learning more in this season than I have perhaps in the entire ten years of ever being Christian. Pain, trials, and tribulations refine the Christian and God is teaching me things I’m barely even beginning to grasp.
There are two types of people in this world. There are those who try to escape the pain and brokenness of life through encouragement, positive thinking and relying on the positive aspects of God’s promises. This is completely understandable. God wants us to believe that He has good things for us and that He wants to give us good gifts. Then there’s those who embrace the trials and pain and see it as a good thing in light of God’s promises to sanctify them and to grow them in wisdom. The former unfortunately seem to overlook the promises and sobering reality of life. Jesus never promised to take us out of this sinful, broken world, only to forgive us and free us from it while still being in it. Jesus never promises to take us away from pain and suffering, rather, He promised to walk with us through it. If anything is true of Christianity, it is this: pain and suffering have now become my friends. They’re a heightened, necessary experience for us in which God uses to transform the Christian into a sage and a saint for the time and place they live in.
Herein lies the rub. Pain and suffering is, quite literally the crux of the Gospel. I wonder, how many times when the Gospel is presented to someone do we offer suffering as a drawcard for conversion? Imagine “hey man! Give your life to Jesus. You’ll have forgiveness of sin, new life in Jesus… Which will probably suck. You’ll lose friends, family, jobs, money, and maybe your life. Pretty sick huh?” Not very appealing. However, this is exactly what Jesus was getting at when He said to take up your cross to follow me (Matt 16: 24-26), that one must hate all else to follow Him (Luke 14:26). Jesus knew what it would take to be His disciple. It is not easy, and one who has never experienced true suffering will never understand the importance of becoming its friend and letting it move you. Suffering takes the one who befriends it to greater heights and greater wisdom. That saint and sage glorifies his God more than he ever would have otherwise. Therefore, it is imperative to walk the same path as Christ our King. Remember, no servant is greater than their master.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
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