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Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Forty Days to prepare for Easter
The season of Lent has begun. You may want to consider abstaining from something -- but not because abstaining is the point, but for the purpose of adding something -- maybe something that will draw you closer to Jesus. You may want to spend time in prayer or in silence or in Scripture. It could be anything that creates real space for you to hear and draw closer to Jesus. Share with us what you'll be doing to prepare your heart for Easter.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Knowing and Cherishing Christ
The Springs Retreat is all about deepening our trust in Jesus and developing our relationship with Him. It is a time for letting all of our knowledge about God that we have learned in the Scripture lead us to knowing Christ richly, personally, lovingly with heart, soul, mind and strength.
Dr. Benner reminds us that our faith must be more than a trust in right beliefs. But what is the difference between having right beliefs and having a relationship with Christ? He writes:
As I've thought about this, no one had more thoughts about God than the Apostle Paul. And no one was more concerned about Christians having right beliefs. Yet he, too, seems to say that Christian faith is not a faith in right beliefs but a faith that trusts in Christ, a faith that leans into Christ in openness and hope, a faith that seeks to know Christ and desires to become like him in his death. Paul writes:
"But whatever was to my profit (all of his work) I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ--the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Phil 3)
How can we make sure that our faith is focused on fully knowing Christ, as Paul's was, and not limited to having right facts about the Scripture and God? It seems that this kind of knowing has to do with an intentional pursuit of imitating Christ -- we get to know him personally by trusting in the power of God (as Christ did), by sharing in suffering for the gospel (as Christ did)? We get to know him when we intentionally seek to become like him in his death (which I think is a call to obedient surrender and loving trust in the Father, NOT seeking to die a tortuous death). We have fellowship with him, by seeking to become like him, and share his struggle to further the kingdom of God. This is all challenging me to really consider if I want to know Christ at all, or if I've settled for trusting in my right beliefs about Him and if I have substituted a lot of right beliefs for a deepening relationship.
I want to know him, not just have right beliefs about him. I think I pursue knowing him through deepening my faith, hope and love--taking my right beliefs and putting them into practice as I live my life with Christ. Trusting him, today. Hoping in Him, today. Loving him, today.
Retreating, where there is time for me to be quiet and alone with Christ, certainly gives me opportunity to deepen my personal relationship with him.
Dr. Benner reminds us that our faith must be more than a trust in right beliefs. But what is the difference between having right beliefs and having a relationship with Christ? He writes:
"In Christianity, the shift from faith as trust, to faith as belief, was primarily a product of the Enlightenment...Faith as trust is personal and interpersonal. Trust is always placed in someone or something and our act of trust is an act of leaning into the object of trust with openness and expectant hopefulness. For Christians, trust in God, however, was slowly degraded into trust in certain thoughts about God. If these thoughts were judged to be true, one was judged to have faith. But the object of the faith in this debased expression of faith is, in actuality, thoughts, not God.
"Equating faith with beliefs truncates and trivializes spirituality by reducing it to a mental process. Thoughts are, quite simply, a poor substitute for relationship. Some Christians speak much of a personal relationship with God but assume that this is based on holding right beliefs. Is it any wonder that this attempt to reduce Ultimate Mystery to theological propositions so often results in the principal personal relationship being with their own thoughts? Cherishing thoughts about God replaces cherishing God, knowing about the Divine replaces knowing the Divine. Whenever the Wholly Other is thought to be contained in one’s beliefs and opinions Divine transcendence is seriously compromised and personal relationship with Spirit minimized." (Soulful Spirituality: Becoming Fully Alive and Deeply Human)
As I've thought about this, no one had more thoughts about God than the Apostle Paul. And no one was more concerned about Christians having right beliefs. Yet he, too, seems to say that Christian faith is not a faith in right beliefs but a faith that trusts in Christ, a faith that leans into Christ in openness and hope, a faith that seeks to know Christ and desires to become like him in his death. Paul writes:
"But whatever was to my profit (all of his work) I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ--the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Phil 3)
How can we make sure that our faith is focused on fully knowing Christ, as Paul's was, and not limited to having right facts about the Scripture and God? It seems that this kind of knowing has to do with an intentional pursuit of imitating Christ -- we get to know him personally by trusting in the power of God (as Christ did), by sharing in suffering for the gospel (as Christ did)? We get to know him when we intentionally seek to become like him in his death (which I think is a call to obedient surrender and loving trust in the Father, NOT seeking to die a tortuous death). We have fellowship with him, by seeking to become like him, and share his struggle to further the kingdom of God. This is all challenging me to really consider if I want to know Christ at all, or if I've settled for trusting in my right beliefs about Him and if I have substituted a lot of right beliefs for a deepening relationship.
I want to know him, not just have right beliefs about him. I think I pursue knowing him through deepening my faith, hope and love--taking my right beliefs and putting them into practice as I live my life with Christ. Trusting him, today. Hoping in Him, today. Loving him, today.
Retreating, where there is time for me to be quiet and alone with Christ, certainly gives me opportunity to deepen my personal relationship with him.
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Monday, November 5, 2012
Under a Spell
It's almost like we've been placed under a spell (like in the fairy tales) and we need to be wakened from our evil enchantment with this world.
All of our modern philosophies have been devised to convince us that our own good and highest enjoyment is to be found here, on this earth, now. In fact, "Almost our whole education has been directed to silencing the shy, persistent, inner voice" that calls our attention to the truth that this world is not all there is. The shy voice says, "There is more!"
The truth is, our real goal is elsewhere. Earth cannot be made into heaven. We are in exile on earth - our fatherland is not here and now. The sun will burn out. The universe will roll up like a scroll, and we will die. What hope is there here?
We remain aware of a longing which no natural happiness will satisfy. Our desire for Paradise does not prove that I will enjoy it (any more than my desire for bread proves I'll get some), but it does give us a good indication that Paradise exists and that some people will enjoy it. Our secret longings (and the glimpse of their satisfaction we fleetingly experience) all point us to heaven. Our real desire is for heaven.
Reflection #10, on The Weight of Glory
All of our modern philosophies have been devised to convince us that our own good and highest enjoyment is to be found here, on this earth, now. In fact, "Almost our whole education has been directed to silencing the shy, persistent, inner voice" that calls our attention to the truth that this world is not all there is. The shy voice says, "There is more!"
The truth is, our real goal is elsewhere. Earth cannot be made into heaven. We are in exile on earth - our fatherland is not here and now. The sun will burn out. The universe will roll up like a scroll, and we will die. What hope is there here?
We remain aware of a longing which no natural happiness will satisfy. Our desire for Paradise does not prove that I will enjoy it (any more than my desire for bread proves I'll get some), but it does give us a good indication that Paradise exists and that some people will enjoy it. Our secret longings (and the glimpse of their satisfaction we fleetingly experience) all point us to heaven. Our real desire is for heaven.
Reflection #10, on The Weight of Glory
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Sunday, November 4, 2012
As in a mirror - dimly
There is another important idea to grasp regarding our reward. If we are made for heaven, the desire for our proper place will already be in us. And at times that desire is awakened, but we can have it attached to the wrong things.
Our desire for our far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now is so sweet, so intimate, so tender and precious to us, that we hesitate to even talk about it (for fear it will disappear, vaporize, and we won't know how to get it back). It is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. Yet our experience keeps suggesting it, inklings break through. We might call it "beauty" but it is more than that.
We cannot trust in what brought us the inkling of beauty (the sunrise, the flower) it only came to us through them. What came through was longing. The beauty, the memory of a time in the past, are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols. It's not the music, the flower, the conversation, nostalgia, a sweetness in our chest -- they are not the thing itself. They are only the scent of the flower, not the flower. They are only the echo of the music we have not heard. They are only news from a country we have never yet visited. But they are inklings of our reward in heaven, a taste, a fleeting glance...but a glance no less.
To have that experience completely, forever, is the highest consummation of why we were created, what God has desired for us from eternity, and to desire it, long for it, live our whole lives to attain it, is a good thing, a pure motive, the "chief end of man."
Seeking my own good and the enjoyment of it forever is a good thing.
Our desire for our far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now is so sweet, so intimate, so tender and precious to us, that we hesitate to even talk about it (for fear it will disappear, vaporize, and we won't know how to get it back). It is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. Yet our experience keeps suggesting it, inklings break through. We might call it "beauty" but it is more than that.
We cannot trust in what brought us the inkling of beauty (the sunrise, the flower) it only came to us through them. What came through was longing. The beauty, the memory of a time in the past, are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols. It's not the music, the flower, the conversation, nostalgia, a sweetness in our chest -- they are not the thing itself. They are only the scent of the flower, not the flower. They are only the echo of the music we have not heard. They are only news from a country we have never yet visited. But they are inklings of our reward in heaven, a taste, a fleeting glance...but a glance no less.
To have that experience completely, forever, is the highest consummation of why we were created, what God has desired for us from eternity, and to desire it, long for it, live our whole lives to attain it, is a good thing, a pure motive, the "chief end of man."
Seeking my own good and the enjoyment of it forever is a good thing.
"For we know in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." I Cor. 13:9-12
Reflection #9 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Saturday, November 3, 2012
Inklings
Our desire for a heavenly reward will lose its sense of being a selfish desire as we experience inklings of it. As our desire for heaven's reward grows, our fear of it being a selfish, impure motive will die way. In fact, it will seem increasing absurd that our desire for heaven be anything other than the purest of motive. But this won't be our experience overnight; it won't happen in a day any more than "poetry replaces grammar, music replaces scales, grace replaces law, longing transforms obedience." It happens for most of us "gradually as the tide lifts a grounded ship."
"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you will appear with him in glory" Col. 3:1-4Do you long to appear with Christ in glory? Isn't that the purest of longing -- to know Christ and be known by Him in glory. A staggering promise of reward.
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Pressing for the Prize
Understanding heaven, comprehending the staggering nature of the promises of rewards, is not something that happens all at once. We don't simply read a verse of Scripture and now we've got it. Much like comprehending God's love, it takes time, minutes that add up to hours of contemplation, openness on our part to receive the truth and let it soak in. Because of the culture we live in, one that is dominated by instant gratification, being motivated by heavenly rewards doesn't come naturally. And we may have heard someone say that heavenly rewards are just God's bribe to get us to do what he wants -- or a concept developed by people in power to dominate others and keep them in line. Don't let the scoffers and ill-informed keep you from embracing the Truth.
"Those who have gone to heaven, who have attained eternal life and are in the presence of God, doubtless know very well that it is no mere bribe, but the very consummation of their earthly discipleship, but we who have not yet attained it cannot know this in the same way. In fact, we cannot even begin to know it at all except by reading the Scripture, and continuing to obey what the Spirit shows us, and finding the first reward of the sweetness we receive from our obedience. That inkling of reward will increase our desire for the ultimate reward. Much like learning any skill -- a foreign language, playing a musical instrument, taking photographs -- we seek to become good at it in hopes of receiving the reward of enjoying literature in its original language, or playing the music that is in our hearts, or capturing the beauty we see on film. And every once in a while it happens we experience what it will be like when we become proficient, and that fleeting experience of what we seek; that inkling of our reward increases our desire and motivates us to continue working on grammar, and musical scales, and lighting techniques.
"Those who have gone to heaven, who have attained eternal life and are in the presence of God, doubtless know very well that it is no mere bribe, but the very consummation of their earthly discipleship, but we who have not yet attained it cannot know this in the same way. In fact, we cannot even begin to know it at all except by reading the Scripture, and continuing to obey what the Spirit shows us, and finding the first reward of the sweetness we receive from our obedience. That inkling of reward will increase our desire for the ultimate reward. Much like learning any skill -- a foreign language, playing a musical instrument, taking photographs -- we seek to become good at it in hopes of receiving the reward of enjoying literature in its original language, or playing the music that is in our hearts, or capturing the beauty we see on film. And every once in a while it happens we experience what it will be like when we become proficient, and that fleeting experience of what we seek; that inkling of our reward increases our desire and motivates us to continue working on grammar, and musical scales, and lighting techniques.
"Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things." Philippians 3:14-15
Reflection #8 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Thursday, November 1, 2012
The Weight of Glory
Our desire for the Lord's reward cannot be too strong. Jesus Himself lived for his reward: "who for the joy set before him endured the Cross, scorning its shame." (Heb 12:3). I'm afraid that we know so little of the joy, and actually feel embarrassed by the possibility that we would be seeking it, that we attempt to live our Christian lives without it.
We don't use our desire for the Lord's reward as a motivation...to our detriment. Paul is always looking to his heavenly reward. He is always pointing our gaze there: "I consider that our present sufferings are not worthy comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." (Rom. 8:18) Paul envisions the scales of justice. On one side he puts "all of the sufferings" we experience in this life. On the other side, "the glory that will be revealed in us." And when weighed on Justice's scale - our sufferings cannot be compared. The weight of the Glory to be revealed completely outweighs our sufferings.
But we do not know this! We don't know about this glory. We don't have a vision of heaven, or of the promises that await us, and so we "suffer" and having nothing to put on the other side of the scale, we think that it is unfair, not right. Our confidence that God is good and can be trusted is undermined. We think we need to satisfy ourselves, here and now.
Paul says that if this life is all there is, then we are to be the most pitied.
We live our lives, essentially, thinking only about this life, embarrassed by any true desire for the glory that will be revealed. What motivated Abraham and Moses and the great cloud of Old Testament witnesses, what motivated Jesus, what Paul and Peter and the writer of Hebrews declare, what theologians up until the 1800s held out as of central importance, has been lost on us. As a result, we are like ignorant children fooling around in mud puddles and think it is only right that we do so, think it would be wrong, in fact, to even let ourselves desire a "holiday at the sea." We are far too easily pleased!
We don't use our desire for the Lord's reward as a motivation...to our detriment. Paul is always looking to his heavenly reward. He is always pointing our gaze there: "I consider that our present sufferings are not worthy comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." (Rom. 8:18) Paul envisions the scales of justice. On one side he puts "all of the sufferings" we experience in this life. On the other side, "the glory that will be revealed in us." And when weighed on Justice's scale - our sufferings cannot be compared. The weight of the Glory to be revealed completely outweighs our sufferings.
But we do not know this! We don't know about this glory. We don't have a vision of heaven, or of the promises that await us, and so we "suffer" and having nothing to put on the other side of the scale, we think that it is unfair, not right. Our confidence that God is good and can be trusted is undermined. We think we need to satisfy ourselves, here and now.
Paul says that if this life is all there is, then we are to be the most pitied.
We live our lives, essentially, thinking only about this life, embarrassed by any true desire for the glory that will be revealed. What motivated Abraham and Moses and the great cloud of Old Testament witnesses, what motivated Jesus, what Paul and Peter and the writer of Hebrews declare, what theologians up until the 1800s held out as of central importance, has been lost on us. As a result, we are like ignorant children fooling around in mud puddles and think it is only right that we do so, think it would be wrong, in fact, to even let ourselves desire a "holiday at the sea." We are far too easily pleased!
Reflection #7 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Consummation of a Life of Faith
What is the consummation of our life of faith? What is the natural, highest, best outcome we could imagine? Is it not living with Jesus for eternity. Is it not friendship with God, being welcomed into his family? Isn't our love for Jesus consumed in being enveloped in the love of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit?
The proper reward for following Christ is to be with Him and become like Him. Heaven is a proper reward because it is the very best outcome of living a surrendered life. That is why we seek, because we long to find. It's not selfish. It's not tacked on. The rewards Jesus offers to his followers in the Gospels are the consummation of our lives here. We shouldn't feel any embarrassment about living today, motivated by a desire to receive a heavenly reward. That's the highest, best outcome of our new life.
The proper reward for following Christ is to be with Him and become like Him. Heaven is a proper reward because it is the very best outcome of living a surrendered life. That is why we seek, because we long to find. It's not selfish. It's not tacked on. The rewards Jesus offers to his followers in the Gospels are the consummation of our lives here. We shouldn't feel any embarrassment about living today, motivated by a desire to receive a heavenly reward. That's the highest, best outcome of our new life.
Heb. 11:1-3: "People who say such things (living as strangers here) show that they are looking for a country of their own...they are longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."Living a life of faith for the hope and promise of heaven is a pure motive, because it is the consummation of our desire to be with God, to be pleasing to him. Moses lived his life for his heavenly reward:
"Moses regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward." Heb. 11:24
"Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection." Heb. 11:27-40It seems that our desires for heaven and the Lord's reward cannot be too strong.
Reflection #6 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Monday, October 29, 2012
Proper Rewards
It seems that we actually resist working for Jesus' reward. Why?
It troubles us, I think, that we would do a good thing for someone so that we could receive a reward. That seems selfish--not loving. It feels like we have mixed motives. So we put out of our minds the staggering, unblushing promises of rewards and seek to live a life of love -- of doing good for others, making sacrificial choices, without thinking of any benefit to ourselves because that feels better to us. We think it's more godly, more pure. We don't want to think that there's anything in it for us. We've been deceived!
When would a reward be a bad thing? When shouldn't we seek a reward?
There are different kinds of rewards. It is the rewards that "have no natural connection to the things you do to earn them and are quite foreign to them" that are wrong.
For example: Money is not the natural reward of love. So if you marry someone for his money - that's wrong. But if you marry someone for the reward of being able to be together, in love for your whole life...that's pure. That's not selfish, but the proper reward of love.
If a general goes to war to get a higher position for himself, that's not the natural reward, that's selfish. But if he goes to war and fights well for victory, that's not selfish, that's the natural end, that's what he is fighting for. Victory is the proper reward for battle just like marriage is the proper reward of love.
Proper rewards are not just tacked on to the activity, they are the activity in consummation. Love in consummation is marriage; the consummation of fighting a battle is victory. Rewards that are the natural, highest, best outcome --are not selfish but right and true, proper rewards.
It troubles us, I think, that we would do a good thing for someone so that we could receive a reward. That seems selfish--not loving. It feels like we have mixed motives. So we put out of our minds the staggering, unblushing promises of rewards and seek to live a life of love -- of doing good for others, making sacrificial choices, without thinking of any benefit to ourselves because that feels better to us. We think it's more godly, more pure. We don't want to think that there's anything in it for us. We've been deceived!
When would a reward be a bad thing? When shouldn't we seek a reward?
There are different kinds of rewards. It is the rewards that "have no natural connection to the things you do to earn them and are quite foreign to them" that are wrong.
For example: Money is not the natural reward of love. So if you marry someone for his money - that's wrong. But if you marry someone for the reward of being able to be together, in love for your whole life...that's pure. That's not selfish, but the proper reward of love.
If a general goes to war to get a higher position for himself, that's not the natural reward, that's selfish. But if he goes to war and fights well for victory, that's not selfish, that's the natural end, that's what he is fighting for. Victory is the proper reward for battle just like marriage is the proper reward of love.
Proper rewards are not just tacked on to the activity, they are the activity in consummation. Love in consummation is marriage; the consummation of fighting a battle is victory. Rewards that are the natural, highest, best outcome --are not selfish but right and true, proper rewards.
Reflection #5 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Saturday, October 27, 2012
Longing for Heaven
Why does Jesus want us to long for heaven and seek it with all our heart?
Possibly because he knows us. He knows how we seek what we believe will make us happy. And if we don't know much about heaven, then we are looking to have our needs met by the things of this life. Even as upside down as it seems, what makes us the most miserable can be satisfying something we desire.
Given our perspective on the world, we aren't trying to change our circumstances, we can't seem to change our behavior, and may, if we could see our motives it's because we like things the way they are.
We may think that we are doing something because it is the right thing to do, but underlying what we may be saying to ourselves and others, there's another motive that is more true to how things really are. The role we are playing in the relationship works for us. Our misery works for us. It feels comfortable. We know it. Doing anything differently conjures up too many fears, feels too risky.
We seek our own interests as we perceive them and fool around with shopping and eating and getting ahead, manipulating our kids and controlling our friends, like ignorant children who want what we want NOW to make us happy for an instant rather than wait for what will truly satisfy. "We want to go on making mud pies in the slums because we cannot imagine what is meant by an offer to go on vacation at the ocean."
Jesus knows we are far too easily pleased. Our desires are not too strong for heaven's reward, but too weak. So he gives us a clearer picture of heaven that we will desire it. Longing for heaven, thinking about our reward there, makes the things of this world grow strangely dim.
Possibly because he knows us. He knows how we seek what we believe will make us happy. And if we don't know much about heaven, then we are looking to have our needs met by the things of this life. Even as upside down as it seems, what makes us the most miserable can be satisfying something we desire.
Given our perspective on the world, we aren't trying to change our circumstances, we can't seem to change our behavior, and may, if we could see our motives it's because we like things the way they are.
We may think that we are doing something because it is the right thing to do, but underlying what we may be saying to ourselves and others, there's another motive that is more true to how things really are. The role we are playing in the relationship works for us. Our misery works for us. It feels comfortable. We know it. Doing anything differently conjures up too many fears, feels too risky.
We seek our own interests as we perceive them and fool around with shopping and eating and getting ahead, manipulating our kids and controlling our friends, like ignorant children who want what we want NOW to make us happy for an instant rather than wait for what will truly satisfy. "We want to go on making mud pies in the slums because we cannot imagine what is meant by an offer to go on vacation at the ocean."
Jesus knows we are far too easily pleased. Our desires are not too strong for heaven's reward, but too weak. So he gives us a clearer picture of heaven that we will desire it. Longing for heaven, thinking about our reward there, makes the things of this world grow strangely dim.
Reflection #4 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Thursday, October 25, 2012
Gifts for us
"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards in the Gospels" we'll realize that Jesus is not afraid of tarnishing our motives with incredible gifts if we choose to follow him.
Is it possible the Jesus knew that our desiring heaven would be faint--and He gives us such staggering promises in order to strengthen our desire for heaven? So don't be afraid of embracing and praying to Jesus to strengthen your comprehension of His reward. He wants us to want it -- to really want it!
Is it possible the Jesus knew that our desiring heaven would be faint--and He gives us such staggering promises in order to strengthen our desire for heaven? So don't be afraid of embracing and praying to Jesus to strengthen your comprehension of His reward. He wants us to want it -- to really want it!
"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." Col. 3: 1-2It is not selfish to desire His reward. How could it be too self-focused to want what God wants for us? Don't be deceived! Our longing for heaven is not too strong, but too weak.
Reflection #3 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Monday, October 22, 2012
Practicing the Presence of Christ
When Christ saves us, we are immediately God’s. We do not have to wait for eternity to be his friend, his child, his purpose-filled worker. Every moment we live is lived in his presence. His Spirit lives in us, walks with us, and connects us to God every moment we let him. We do not have to work for this. We do not have to be good enough. We do not have to say certain things or do elaborate things to be led and loved by God.
God's love is a free gift – grace. We can always have joy, peace, kindness, love, patience, self-control, gentleness, faithfulness. So….why do we sometimes feel distant from God, why do we sin, why do we doubt, why are we stressed and fearful, why do we waste so much time on selfish things? I think it is because we don’t pay attention to God. We ignore his Spirit. We say yes to ourselves and no to Jesus. We get busy, we forget the important stuff, we drift.
God's love is a free gift – grace. We can always have joy, peace, kindness, love, patience, self-control, gentleness, faithfulness. So….why do we sometimes feel distant from God, why do we sin, why do we doubt, why are we stressed and fearful, why do we waste so much time on selfish things? I think it is because we don’t pay attention to God. We ignore his Spirit. We say yes to ourselves and no to Jesus. We get busy, we forget the important stuff, we drift.
I want to pay attention to God a lot more. I want to embrace his Spirit every moment. I want to say no to myself daily so that I can say yes to Jesus and the journey he has for me.
shared by Christy
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Friday, October 19, 2012
Desiring our Own Good
What will we find if we choose to deny ourselves so that we may follow Christ? We will find promises of our own good, enjoyment, and fulfillment of our deepest longings. Following Christ holds out for us the most incredible appeal to receive all that we would ever desire.
If you think that to desire our own good and earnestly hope for the enjoyment of it, is a bad thing, is actually selfish, you've embraced some other philosophy, but NOT the Christian faith.
If you think that to desire our own good and earnestly hope for the enjoyment of it, is a bad thing, is actually selfish, you've embraced some other philosophy, but NOT the Christian faith.
Reflection #2 on C.S. Lewis, Weight of Glory
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Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Self-focused
I've journaled my way through C.S. Lewis' Weight of Glory. I thought I'd share some of my reflections here as they have been very helpful to me.
Reflection #1:
We are afraid that we might be too focused on ourselves. Often we start to think that the highest virtue is not thinking about ourselves, not serving ourselves, not being selfish. But there is a fundamental difference between being unselfish and loving.
The negative idea of "unselfish" carries with it the suggestion NOT of primarily securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. Self-denial is mentioned a lot in the Bible, but not for the sake of itself. We are told to deny our self and take up our cross so that we can follow Christ, and live a life of love. God commands us to love.
Reflection #1:
We are afraid that we might be too focused on ourselves. Often we start to think that the highest virtue is not thinking about ourselves, not serving ourselves, not being selfish. But there is a fundamental difference between being unselfish and loving.
The negative idea of "unselfish" carries with it the suggestion NOT of primarily securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. Self-denial is mentioned a lot in the Bible, but not for the sake of itself. We are told to deny our self and take up our cross so that we can follow Christ, and live a life of love. God commands us to love.
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Sunday, October 14, 2012
Thoughts from Spurgeon
Spiritual knowledge of Christ will be a personal knowledge.
I cannot know Jesus through another person’s acquaintance with him. No, I must know him myself; I must know him on my own account. It will be an intelligent knowledge...as the Word reveals him.
I must know his natures, divine and human. I must know his offices—his attributes—his works—his shame—his glory.
I must meditate upon him until I “comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.”
It will be an affectionate knowledge of him; indeed, if I know him at all, I must love him. An ounce of heart knowledge is worth a ton of head learning...
To conclude; this knowledge of Christ Jesus will be a most happy one; in fact, so elevating, that sometimes it will completely bear me up above all trials, and doubts, and sorrows; and it will, while I enjoy it, make me something more than “Man that is born of woman, who lives but a few days, which are full of trouble”; for it will fling about me the immortality of the ever living Saviour, and gird me with his eternal joy.
Come, my soul, sit at Jesus’s feet and learn of him all this day.
Spurgeon, C. H. from Morning and evening: Daily readings
I cannot know Jesus through another person’s acquaintance with him. No, I must know him myself; I must know him on my own account. It will be an intelligent knowledge...as the Word reveals him.
I must know his natures, divine and human. I must know his offices—his attributes—his works—his shame—his glory.
I must meditate upon him until I “comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.”
It will be an affectionate knowledge of him; indeed, if I know him at all, I must love him. An ounce of heart knowledge is worth a ton of head learning...
To conclude; this knowledge of Christ Jesus will be a most happy one; in fact, so elevating, that sometimes it will completely bear me up above all trials, and doubts, and sorrows; and it will, while I enjoy it, make me something more than “Man that is born of woman, who lives but a few days, which are full of trouble”; for it will fling about me the immortality of the ever living Saviour, and gird me with his eternal joy.
Come, my soul, sit at Jesus’s feet and learn of him all this day.
Spurgeon, C. H. from Morning and evening: Daily readings
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Sunday, May 27, 2012
Peace
I think I’m coming to a new understanding and perspective on
peace. This phrase has gone through my mind recently…
Peace is not achieved, it’s received.
It seems like I’ve "heard" that in my heart over and over, and I’ve been pondering what that might mean. I think that in a way I’ve thought of peace almost as a goal, with certain steps to get there. Good steps, like...if I am walking by faith, if I am trusting God enough, if I’m trying not to worry…Then I will get to that place of having peace. And all those things are truths. But I think I’ve missed a subtle but powerful difference. I can’t seem to “get” peace. Or at least if I do, it is short-lived. These past few weeks I’ve been experiencing something new and different. It feels like I have been over and over releasing things to God, with arms and heart open, and then I’ve been able to receive His peace. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you.” My part is to receive it. And to let go of whatever it is that hinders that.
Much to think about!
Peace is not achieved, it’s received.
It seems like I’ve "heard" that in my heart over and over, and I’ve been pondering what that might mean. I think that in a way I’ve thought of peace almost as a goal, with certain steps to get there. Good steps, like...if I am walking by faith, if I am trusting God enough, if I’m trying not to worry…Then I will get to that place of having peace. And all those things are truths. But I think I’ve missed a subtle but powerful difference. I can’t seem to “get” peace. Or at least if I do, it is short-lived. These past few weeks I’ve been experiencing something new and different. It feels like I have been over and over releasing things to God, with arms and heart open, and then I’ve been able to receive His peace. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you.” My part is to receive it. And to let go of whatever it is that hinders that.
Much to think about!
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Friday, May 18, 2012
Saying yes
"One of the ways in which we most securely insulate ourselves from transformation is by having lives that are too full for stillness and solitude."
"For the last two decades my wife and I have spent about half of each year in leading contemplative retreats around the world. Doing so has convinced me that real transformation seldom comes simply from reading a book or listening to a lecture. It requires the fertile place of solitude and stillness. It demands the openness of heart and mind that can only be given when space is created for wahtever measure of stillness we can receive from God and are then prepared to offer back to God as our gift. Seeking silence, solitude, and stillness is always, therefore, a response to the Spirit, who calls us within our spirit to deeper places. It's a response to a longing that we may not even know is present. Acknowledging and responding to this longing is itself a way of expressing faith and saying yes to God." (David Benner, Spirituality and the Awakening Self, p 66.)
"For the last two decades my wife and I have spent about half of each year in leading contemplative retreats around the world. Doing so has convinced me that real transformation seldom comes simply from reading a book or listening to a lecture. It requires the fertile place of solitude and stillness. It demands the openness of heart and mind that can only be given when space is created for wahtever measure of stillness we can receive from God and are then prepared to offer back to God as our gift. Seeking silence, solitude, and stillness is always, therefore, a response to the Spirit, who calls us within our spirit to deeper places. It's a response to a longing that we may not even know is present. Acknowledging and responding to this longing is itself a way of expressing faith and saying yes to God." (David Benner, Spirituality and the Awakening Self, p 66.)
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Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Come to Me
It seems that lately I’ve been hearing a call in my heart, an invitation from the Lord. In the midst of a wildly busy time, and in the face of overwhelming struggles, what I’ve “heard” in my heart is, “Come to Me.” A simple yet profound invitation. The Lord through His Spirit, asking me, inviting me, even urging me, to simply respond to His invitation.
“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
”Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters.”
“The Spirit and the bride say, “’Come!”
In this invitation I realize that He’s not inviting me to a place, but to a relationship. But I’m also realizing that sometimes in order to experience what He’s inviting me to, it does involve a “place.” Sometimes it requires that I literally step aside for a while from all the responsibilities and demands, to disconnect myself from the myriad of activities that seem to invade my every waking moment. Sometimes it means taking a drive, or setting aside a block of time with absolutely no agenda, except to respond to His invitation.
The Springs is the perfect “place” to say Yes to His call, “Come to Me.” In the meantime, I’m looking for ways that I can implement what I’ve learned at the Springs, incorporating into my daily life the things that nurture the intimate relationship with the Lord that I desire…and that He desires to have with me.
shared by Grace
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Friday, May 11, 2012
Let the Lord pour in
As leaders, I think we have to stop thinking that we are too busy to take time for ourselves. We know we cannot keep pouring out if we don’t take time to allow the Lord to pour in. We have to get away for more than a few hours, to give ourselves time to dial down, and become open and still.
Take this as an invitation from the Lord to set aside all that you give your life to, on a regular basis, so that you can give your full attention to Him. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your family and the women you serve.
Scholarships are available...don't let the cost of coming to The Springs keep you from signing up.
Take this as an invitation from the Lord to set aside all that you give your life to, on a regular basis, so that you can give your full attention to Him. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your family and the women you serve.
Scholarships are available...don't let the cost of coming to The Springs keep you from signing up.
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Saturday, May 5, 2012
Is it Time to Stop?
In order to do the work of the ministry, we often sacrifice activities that nurture our souls. We give up meeting friends for coffee, taking walks at the park, enjoying leisurely mornings with the Lord. There’s so much to do, we can’t even imagine how we could carve out a morning, much less a few days to get away for retreat.
A book I was reading posed an intriguing question: Is it possible that instead of meeting the expectations God has of us, we are actually insulating ourselves from Him?
Could we actually be the ones filling up every minute because we want to avoid the Spirit? Could it be that our obsessive busyness and extreme attention to every detail is a well-crafted way to hide, to insulate ourselves from Him?
As I’ve thought about it, it makes sense to consider if avoidance may be at the heart of why my life gets wound up in a frantic cycle of meetings and obligations.
A book I was reading posed an intriguing question: Is it possible that instead of meeting the expectations God has of us, we are actually insulating ourselves from Him?
Could we actually be the ones filling up every minute because we want to avoid the Spirit? Could it be that our obsessive busyness and extreme attention to every detail is a well-crafted way to hide, to insulate ourselves from Him?
As I’ve thought about it, it makes sense to consider if avoidance may be at the heart of why my life gets wound up in a frantic cycle of meetings and obligations.
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