Whose glory?

Those gifted in teaching are quick to gather information, eager to share it with others, yet often slow to apply it to themselves. I tend to assume that most problems are caused by errors in thinking. That leads to assuming if I think right, then I am okay. But that is an error because my thinking is the root of my actions and if they are lacking or lagging… then something is missing. If God is not telling me what to do, or I am not listening or obeying Him, it could be that I think too highly of myself.

Lately the Bible verses that speak to me often reveal my inabilities and weaknesses in contrast to the power of God. Instead of applying this to myself, I get annoyed at others who err in their thinking. For instance, if another Christian says, “I led so and so to the Lord” I want to say, “No you didn’t. The Holy Spirit did the work in their heart.”

I’ve also sung lyrics like, “To God be the glory, great things He has done” and see His hand in the lives of all the doers, whether they give Him credit or not. And those on the ‘not’ side use their personal pronoun far more than the name of Jesus, making me wonder if the flesh is busier in their lives than they realize. And I am critical for their fleshy words. Then I look in the mirror and cringe — because I do this too.

What is it about us that desires the credit, or at least some of it, for what God does? This attitude has been called “practical atheism” defined as living our Christian lives as if God does not exist, or does not keep His promises or even hears our cries for help. Or I make myself God’s helper when it is me who needs His help. Others are so uncertain of God that they fall into the attitude that “I must do something” or they will lose their salvation. I know the verses that say this is not faith and am critical. God says:

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)
Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. (1 Thessalonians 5:23–24)

I know that Jesus saves. Jesus keeps, protects, leads, intercedes, picks me up when I fall, forgives and cleanses my sin, says “It is finished.” He also says,

Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:3–5)

He also promises and works to transform my life and put to death (separation from God) my fleshy old nature so that it has no value or bearing. Fleshy actions are only a waste of time that produce nothing of eternal value. As for my weaknesses, it is in them that God perfects His strength. Where does “I” fit in? No where, except I am to glory in those weaknesses and rejoice in the glory of the Lord, not put myself on a pedestal.

PRAY: God, forgive me for such sinfulness as wanting glory that belongs to You and You only. Forgive me for being annoyed with those who rob You of Your glory, forgetting I do the same. Like me, they may want to be important, not weak or incapable of doing anything apart from You. Forgive me for letting my insecurities drive me to God-playing instead of being thankful for Your great mercy and grace. Please cleanse my heart and deepen my faith and my love for You.

Every virtue must be His

I’ve long ago given up saying things like, “So and so would be such a good Christian,” for I know now that natural virtues are useless in the kingdom of God. I’ve realized this in the most difficult possible way --- by having them stripped away leaving me helpless.
 

Oswald Chambers says this is a sure sign that God is at work. He destroys confidence in natural virtues because they are not what He is building in His people. These are remnants of what God intended and may look good on the surface, but He knows and He shows me how even the best I have has been thoroughly ruined by the Fall.

Yet I cling to natural virtues. They not only seem right, but they are expressions of my self, giving me some value before God even as I say that I fall short and need Jesus Christ. From experience, I am learning how sad and how frustrating to try and serve God depending not on His grace but on what I have by the accident of heredity. It is a most difficult lesson to learn that God isn’t going to build up my skills and abilities or even transfigure them --- for nothing in me can ever come anywhere near what Jesus Christ is and wants. Unsaved or saved, I fall short.

But now the righteousness of God has been manifested . . . through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God . . .  (Romans 3:21–23)

The life God planted in me means a development of a new creation. He isn’t remaking even the virtues Adam had before the Fall, but the character of Jesus Christ. As He withers up my confidence in anything in myself and in any power I might have, He wants me to learn to draw my life from the resurrection life of Jesus. He wants me to say what all who worship Him must learn to say . . .

Singers and dancers alike say, “All my springs are in you.” (Psalm 87:7)

Natural love, patience, and purity cannot measure up to God’s demands. His life in Christ is so much more than I can imagine, never mind duplicate. Even my best interferes with His plans.

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. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose. (Galatians 2:20–21)

The only way to experience it is by dying totally to my old life --- even yielding the best of me, so that Jesus Christ rules entirely.

Death to the rule of self

Like the disciples, I’ve assumed my faith. The Lord said they would deny Him, but they didn’t believe that they would. Peter even declared, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” And all the disciples said the same. (Matthew 26:35)

Jesus took them to Gethsemane and the tests began. He wrestled in prayer, bleeding drops of blood as the struggle was so fierce, and the disciples? While Jesus was saying “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will,” they were sleeping. Die to self? Not what they wanted.

Jesus said, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41) Their problem was not that the flesh needed more strength, but that it needed to be dead. Because of mere weakness, as He predicted, all would fall away that night just as the Old Testament said. “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.” (Matthew 26:31) Not even for Jesus would they die to self.

Jesus had taught them the reality of self-denial. They heard the words, just as I have heard the words.

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? (Luke 9:23–25)

It sounds so noble, so beyond average, an ideal that calls me to greater sanctification and holiness. Like Peter, I suppose that I could die for this Jesus who died for me. But when push comes to shove, I have no idea of the power of self. It stubbornly wants to live, not die. Instead of standing with Jesus, I scatter. Instead of praying with Him, I sleep. Instead of saying no to selfishness, I pursue it. I understand the words of Paul, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24)

Of course, Jesus is the deliverer. I am to persevere, to lay aside the weight of self and the clinging sin that goes with it and “run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1-2).

He endured from sinners great hostility against Himself so I would not grow weary or fainthearted. In my struggle against sin I have not yet resisted to the point of shedding my blood. I so easily forget His exhortations and so lightly regard His discipline. I get tired of being reproved, like a brat who persists in trying to put his hand in the cookie jar.

Hebrews 12 goes on to remind me that the Lord disciplines those He loves, not because He is mean but because I am His child. It is for my good, that I might share his holiness. After all, it is only for the moment that this discipline seems painful. He promises that under His training eventually I will experience the “peaceful fruit of righteousness.”

My hands are drooping and my knees are weak. I’m told to make straight paths for my feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. The goal is peace with everyone and holiness so that I will see the Lord. How foolish to pick self-rule over that.