Saturday, May 23, 2015

There's a dark side to all of this.

It is, after all, Suicidal Christianity.

I spent a long time learning to like the guy I am.
It was not easy.  I remember in Elementary School and Junior High how I suffered under the bullies who thought I was easy prey.   One guy used to find me in the lunch room and spit onto my sandwich.  Then he would laugh and laugh as he walked away.  Meanwhile, I'd just push my sandwich back into its bag and toss it back into my lunch sack, waiting for its final trip, uneaten, to the trash can on the way out of the cafeteria.

I always promised myself that if I ever met that guy in a dark alley somewhere, I'd beat the tar out of him.  Turns out, he grew up to be a local police deputy in the town where we both grew up.  It's been more than 25 years since he last spit into a sandwich of mine, but whenever I drive through that town, I'm always watching out for him.

But he wasn't even the only bully.  I had big ears and a funny shaped nose, and I cut my hair very short and that only accentuated my ears.

I was a Christian even then, so I didn't use profanity.  I didn't talk about girls in the locker room.  I went to church every Sunday.  I can remember being so proud of winning our Sunday School class' competition to memorize the names of all 66 books of the Bible in order.

Yep.  I was that guy.

Over time, I learned to stop caring about what other people thought.  I realized that I gave them  power over me when I cared about how they felt about me... I was letting them make me miserable, and that was exactly what they wanted.  Eventually, I figured out how to just NOT.  And High School was FUN after that.  When they couldn't hurt me, they moved on.  A couple of them actually became my friends, because they saw that I was a pretty decent guy.

So when I realize that the best, most important thing I can do is to kill that guy... to be the Suicidal Christian.... well, quite honestly, it hurt.

Yeah, I want Christ to be my Lord, and yeah, I want the Holy Spirit to dwell within me, and yeah, I'd love to be thought of as the bond-slave of the Father, but can't I still be me?

To some degree, yeah.  I can't ever stop being me, and sometimes... rarely... I'm a pretty OK guy.

The more my focus is on HIM, though, the more I really want to kill the guy I've been, and be crucified with Christ.

Because each day I see how wretched that guy is.

How sinful.

How depraved.

How hypocritical.

And I think "I can't do this.  If David lamented "How can a man find favor with God?" and David was "a man after [God's] own heart," what chance do I have?

None, of course.  That's why I have been crucified.  With Christ.  It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me.  Any life I continue to live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, even when I was wretched, sinful, depraved, and hypocritical.  Even then, He loved me, and not only that, but gave Himself for me.

Blessed be His Holy Name.

Monday, May 11, 2015

Lets talk for a moment about a central tenant of Galatians 2:20: Me.

 I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Who am I?  If I live according to this verse, I am a dead person, crucified with Christ, and I no longer live.  Not sure how Paul could have been more clear here.  Any life which I continue to live in my body, I live only by faith in the Son of God.  


There's no other way I can do it.  


          I've tried to be good.  


                    I've tried to be obedient.  


                              I've tried to be stoic and stubborn and to stand my ground.  


And sometimes I'm a marble pillar in the middle of a roaring river, defiantly throwing aside all temptation and sin, living victoriously.  And other times, I find myself crumbled beneath the current, tiny pieces of stone swept along at the will of the river.  


Oh wretched man that I am!


I fail so often that I must come to no other conclusion than that I cannot live a life in the flesh by effort or exertion or extreme force of will.  I can only live that life by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.  


When dealing with the sin in my life, I am forced to conclude simply that I cannot deal with it.  This is not license to not fight it, but only permission to fail occasionally.  Because when Christ hung on the cross, every sin I would ever commit was yet future, but He went anyway.  Every sin I have left to commit in my life is already covered by the Son of God.  But if I am to be a good and faithful servant to Him, I am to do all within my power to obey His Holy Will.  A great friend of mine used to say "God is not a cosmic wet blanket, trying to put out your fun." The things He commands us to do or to not do are for our own good, because He is a loving Father to each of us.


So give it a shot.  Die to yourself.  Live by faith in the Son of God.  And realize that when you fail, He will be there to pick you up again.