A Man in Christ

Greetings All!

     Each Christian has certain authors, preachers, or teachers that they click with.  People who speak to them in a way others do not.  I have many of them just as I am sure you do.  Some of the people who have profoundly affected me range (the list is not exhaustive) from Charles Spurgeon, to J. I. Packer, to A. W. Tozer, Deitrich Bonhoeffer, John Owen, John Frame, Tim Keller, Richard Sibbes, Jonathan Edwards, Jerry Bridges, Wayne Grudem, R. C. Sproul, Ravi Zacharias, Gordon Fee, John Piper and the person you will hear from today -- James S. Stewart.  Some of you may be scratching your heads wondering who some of them are, when they lived, and why I'm enamored with their take on things, just as I likewise have wondered the same thing after reading some authors people gushed about and said, "you just have to read_____________"!

     Anyway, if you do have the time today, maybe you could zip off a quick response telling me your top three authors.  I'd be very interested in knowing which one's "speak your language" and have fed your soul (along with the book titles that helped you most).  If enough respond, maybe I'll share the results.

     Yet, today, you will hear from James S. Stewart, from his book "A Man in Christ."  For me it has been a "go to" book whenever I want something of substance to challenge or feed my soul. These excerpts simply give you the essence of what he fleshes out in greater detail throughout the rest of the book.  Enjoy.

A Man in Christ

     “The evangel of an ethical example (salvation by trying to be good) is a devastating thing. It makes religion the most grievous of burdens. Perhaps this is the real reason why, even among professing Christians, there are so many strained faces and weary hearts and captive, unreleased spirits. They have listened to Jesus' teaching, they have meditated on Jesus' character; and then they have risen up and tried to drive their own lives along Jesus' royal way. Disappointment heaped on bitter disappointment has been the result. The great example has been a dead-weight beating them down, bearing them to the ground, bowing their hopeless souls in the dust.

     One of the vital distinctions between true religion and false, is that, whereas the latter is a dead burden for the soul to carry, the former is a living power to carry the soul… "Christ in me" means something quite different from the weight of an impossible ideal, something far more glorious than the oppression of a pattern for ever beyond all imitation. "Christ in me" means Christ bearing me along from within, Christ as the motive-power that carries me on, Christ giving my whole life a wonderful poise and lift and turning every burden into wings. This is what the apostle means when he speaks of "Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27)... This, and this alone, is the true Christian religion.

     To be "in Christ," to have Christ within, to realize your creed not as something you have to bear, but as something by which you are born. This is Christianity. It is more: it is release and liberty, life with an endless song at its heart. It means feeling within you, as long as life lasts here, the carrying power of Love Almighty; and underneath you, when you come to die, the touch of everlasting arms…

     The heart of Paul's religion is union with Christ. This, more than any other conception – ­ more than justification, more than sanctification, more even than reconciliation, is the key which unlocks the secrets of Paul’s soul. Within the Holy of Holies which stood revealed when the veil was rent in two from the top to the bottom that day on the road to Damascus, Paul beheld Christ summoning and welcoming him in infinite love into vital unity with Himself.

     If one seeks for the most characteristic sentences the apostle ever wrote, they will be found, not where he is refuting the legalists, or vindicating his apostleship, or meditating on eschatological hopes, or giving practical ethical guidance to the Church, but where his intense intimacy with Christ comes to expression. Everything that religion meant for Paul is focused for us in such great words as these: "I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me" (Gal. 2:20). "There is, therefore, now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 8:1). "He that is joined unto the Lord is one with him in spirit" (I Cor. 6:17)…  Paul declares his conviction that in Christianity the final stress must ever fall on one thing – and on one thing only – union with Christ.  Life in fellowship with Christ.”

     If what is written here resonates with you, or intrigues you, and you would like to go into it further, I would encourage you to pick up the book. I don't think you would be disappointed. God has given the Church gifted teachers and preachers, it is wise to avail yourselves of the things he has laid upon their hearts to share with us.

In His Service, Pastor Jeff

Streams in the Desert

Greetings All!

     After three fruitful weeks of doing ministry with my wife Nancy in India, I am finally back!  Therefore I'd like to get back on schedule and pass on what I found to be an encouraging thought for your spiritual edification. It is taken from the devotional classic, "Streams in the Desert," by L. B. Cowman.  It struck me as a story (or analogy) containing much truth in regard to those difficult times in life when we cry out to God from the depth of our being and he seemingly remains silent, distant, or fails to respond to our cries.  May her words offer encouragement to your soul.  Enjoy.

"A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to Jesus crying out, 'Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!  My daughter is suffering terribly from demon-possession.' Jesus did not answer a word." Matthew 15:23

     

     "Are you reading these verses as a child of God who is experiencing a crushing sorrow; a bitter disappointment, or a heartbreaking blow from a totally unexpected place? Are you longing to hear your Master's voice calling you, saying, "Take courage!  It is I. Don't be afraid" (Matthew 14:27)?  Yet only silence, the unknown, and misery confront you -- "Jesus did not answer a word."

     God's tender heart must often ache listening to our sad, complaining cries. Our weak and often impatient hearts cry out because we fail to see through our tear-blinded eyes that it is for our sake that He does not answer at all, or that He answers in a way we believe is less than the best.   In fact, the silences of Jesus are as eloquent as His words and may be a sign, not of His disapproval, but of His approval and His way of providing a deeper blessing for you...

     Let me relate a beautiful old story of how one Christian dreamed she saw three other women in prayer. When they knelt the Master drew near to them. As He approached the first of the three, He bent over her with tenderness and grace. He smiled with radiant love and spoke to her in tones of pure, sweet music.  Upon leaving her, He came to the next, but only placed His hand upon her bowed head and gave her one look of loving approval. He passed the third woman almost abruptly, without stopping for a word or a glance. The woman having the dream said to herself, "How greatly He must love the first woman. The second gained His approval but did not experience the special demonstrations of love He gave the first. But the third woman must have grieved Him deeply, for He gave her no word at all, not even a passing look."

     She wondered what the third woman must have done to have been treated so differently. As she tried to account for the actions of her Lord, He Himself came and stood beside her. He said to her, "O Woman!  How wrongly you have interpreted my actions!  The first kneeling woman needs the full measure of my tenderness and care to keep her feet on My narrow way.  She is weak and needs My love, thoughts, and help every moment of the day, for without them she would stumble into failure. The second woman has stronger faith and deeper love than the first, and I can count on her to trust Me no matter how things may go or whatever people may do. Yet the third woman, whom I seemed not to notice, and even to neglect, has faith and love of the purest quality.  I am training her through quick and drastic ways for the highest and holiest service. She knows me so intimately, and trusts me so completely, that she no longer depends on my voice, loving glances, or other outward signs to know of my approval. She is not dismayed or discouraged by any circumstances I arrange for her to encounter. She trusts me when common sense, reason, and even every subtle instinct of the natural heart would rebel, knowing that I am preparing her for eternity, and realizing that the understanding of what I do will come later."

     "My love is silent because I love beyond the power of words to express it and beyond the understanding of the human heart. Also, it is silent for your sake -- that you may learn to love and trust me with pure, Spirit-taught, spontaneous responses.  I desire for your response to my love to be without prompting of anything external."  Learn, then, the mystery of His silence and praise Him every time He withdraws His gifts from you. Through this you will better know and love and trust the Giver."

     I must confess I have seen something of this truth actively played out in my life.  I am not by any means a giant in the faith, and have a long way to go (as those closest to me will affirm).  But I have often wondered why it is that when I first came to Christ I had far more intense, tangible, faith-building spiritual experiences where I tangibly sensed God's presence, witnessed startling answers to prayer, and received what could only be called profoundly clear guidance attested to by others and confirmed by God's grace in providentially bringing certain things to pass.

     Yet, as I grew in the Lord I noticed the number of them diminish significantly.  Initially (for the most part) God seemed to answer my cries more quickly, and in ways that seemed more tangible and dramatic, even stunning this newly born-again child on many occasions. But as I continued to walk with the Lord I found He was slower to "rescue" me from trials.  Rather, He started to let me weather them. Instead of the former hand of help offered quickly to usher me out of hardships, He left me to endure hardships, go through heartbreak, and walk through dark nights of the soul where my path led through valleys so deep it seemed to my impatient soul the darkness would never be dispelled by the light!

     And though at first it was very unsettling and sometimes frightful (feeling God had abandoned me), I soon realized that the spiritual life is in many ways like a parent teaching it's new child to walk.  At first you are there with arms outstretched ready to grab the wobbly-legged 9 or 10 month old at the slightest sign of them going down, often keeping a grip on their arm or shirt, or grabbing them before their diaper-lined rear end ever hits the ground!

     But at some point (out of love and a desire for them to learn and grow) you must let go of the shirt, pull back, and refrain from helping them.  As they grow you must let them learn to stand (and even fall) so as to realize the consequences of their actions and the need for wise choices and good decision-making. God does the same with us. As infant Christians he responds more quickly, and in more tangible ways, realizing how frail we are in the faith and how much help we need initially in order to make it past those first hurdles in our new life.  But imagine how absurd it would be to see a parent cautiously hovering over their six or eight year old in the same way, holding on to their shirt and ready to grab them before they ever fall.

     No, as a child grows into an adolescent and then into adulthood, the parent steps back further and further and gives more space, freedom, and responsibility.  Why would God, as the perfect parent, do any differently with us as we grow spiritually? 

In the Bonds of Christian Charity, Pastor Jeff

Amazing Grace - A Vocabulary of Faith

Greetings All,

     I recently came across a great book at a local thrift shop which I picked it up for a dollar.  It's called "Amazing Grace - A Vocabulary of Faith," by Kathleen Norris. I was a bit hesitant to grab it at first since it has a rave review from the Boston Globe! (A newspaper not known for advocating anything even approaching biblical Christianity.) It is also a New York Times Bestseller, and received from them the "Notable Book Award."
     I must say I am not on the same page with everything she says, but she makes some very good points, is an extremely gifted writer, and her straying from the Protestant faith of her youth  for 25 years, and then returning through Catholicism, only to embrace it once again because it helped her make sense of life -- makes for a very interesting and thought provoking read.
     The theme of the book is taken from a line in Robert Robertson's hymn: "O to grace how great a debtor..."  and this particular excerpt has to do with a truth regarding conversion which I wish more people would realize. The truth that in the New Testament conversion to Christ is simultaneously conversion into the fellowship of the Church.  The faith is never meant to be lived in isolation from community, but lived out in and through a community of believers -- imperfect as that community of redeemed sinners may inevitably be.  Enjoy.

     "...Christian conversion is not a goal. Above all, it is not something one can strive for and attain for oneself, but comes only with the help of mentors.  I found it helpful to name the men and women who all my life had listened, who had offered guidance and grounding when I needed it most. Often these were people who would be astonished to learn that they had nudged me gently, or not so gently, along the path of religious conversion. They had become what St. Paul might term my "cloud of witnesses," or communion of saints, but were not in themselves a community.  And that, I finally realized, was what my conversion required...

     [One] insight of Thomas Merton's, that "theology really happens in relations between people," was of great use to me when I began to consider, with much fear and trembling, that I would have to join a church. And that my grandmother Totten's church, just up the street from my house, would have to be it. Because that's where I live, and the Christian faith is best lived out among those who see us without pretensions, in the day-to-day circumstances of life.

     It was not until years after I had joined that I finally felt I truly belonged there. But by then I had enough trust, enough faith in God to learn to examine even my negative reactions to religion for signs that my conversion was indeed taking root in me.

     I had begun to comprehend that the Bible's story is about the relationship of God to human beings, and of human beings to one another, and that this meant that it is our friendships, marriages, families, and even church congregations that best reveal what kind of theology we have, who our God is. Or as Thomas Merton once put it, "because we love, God is present." That is the story."

     I have often shared with my congregation the New Testament truth that conversion -- no matter how else one looks at it -- is conversion into the Body of Christ, the Church, and requires an ongoing commitment to involvement in a local body or congregation.  A fellowship of faith where we can worship, learn, grow, use our spiritual gifts to edify and build up the body, give and receive encouragement, find accountability, and grow through seeking to love and relation-ally embrace people we may not particularly like at first (or ever)!

     Sanctification, or growth in godliness, is nearly impossible in isolation from other believers (contrary to what we have come to believe in America). "Lone ranger Christians," or "home Baptists," who do not meet regularly with others to join in the work of furthering the kingdom are missing out on the many blessings of being part of a fellowship as well as living outside the will of God for His people (Acts 2:42-47 / Acts 4:32-37 / Romans 12:3-21 / I Corinthians 12:12-31 / Ephesians 4:1-16 / Hebrews 10:23-25 / I Peter 2:4-10).

     The called are called into community - always.  In fact, it's a truth so universally "taken for granted" by the apostolic authors that many verses in the epistles cannot be understood apart from the underlying assumption that the truth is written to the entire group as a unified whole and not just "individuals" within it.

     So I admonish you, if you have strayed into an isolationist relationship with Jesus (for whatever reason), re-read the New Testament, reconsider what it says, and then like Kathleen Norris, "consider, with much fear and trembling, that (you need) to join a church." Or at the very least, gather with it regularly and consistently for worship, fellowship, service, and instruction.

     "O to grace how great a debtor, daily I'm constrained to be."  It is so true. And though we don't often think of it this way, part of that grace we are indebted to God for, comes to us through the interaction and fellowship we receive through our brothers and sisters in the church.

In Christ, Pastor Jeff