I’ve been reading a serious book by Greg Harris called The Cup and the Glory. It starts out in the gospels where the disciples ask Jesus to give them places of honor when He comes into His glory. Jesus told them that they did not know what they were asking, “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?”
Harris points out that the disciples didn’t have a clue what it would take to make them ready to receive the request that they asked. He skillfully shows that many of our prayers in general, and even the deepest and truest desires of our hearts to become more spiritual, more like Jesus, are accompanied by a blindness to what God needs to do to answer our prayers.
It isn’t that God is unable to do what we ask. He can in a heartbeat. But we block Him. We ask for patience and He sends tribulation (“tribulation produces patience,” Romans 5:3), then we pray and ask Him to deliver us from the tribulation. We don’t know what we ask.
I have been praying for unsaved family for years. I’ve often felt that God is not doing what only He can do in their lives because I need to change, that I’m not ready for the answer. Either that, or He is using this situation to build faith and patience in me, to test my faithfulness, to help me draw closer to Him.
At the same time, I don’t want to be a hindrance to His blessing in the lives of anyone, never mind those so close to my heart. So this morning, I asked Him to show me what He needs to do in me before He answers those prayers. At least then I can cooperate instead of fighting whatever He sends to change me, to make me ready for what He will do.
I’m sure that this morning’s request will take a long time to answer, but for today, He takes me to Ephesians 4:1-3. It says, “I, therefore, (Paul) the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love, endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
At first this seemed an odd answer. Then I remembered the Lego lesson from yesterday and looked for specific directions. I found them in a section of the Bible Knowledge Commentary. It says, “Attitudes of humility, gentleness, and patience foster unity among Christians. Having stated these three virtues, Paul then stated the manner in which they are to be carried out in one’s conduct: bearing with one another in love and making every effort (the Gr. has a participle, ‘making every diligent effort’) to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Christians are not to make unity but to keep or guard what God made in creating the ‘one new man’ (Eph. 2:15-16). They are to keep this unity ‘through the bond’ which consists of ‘peace.’ Concern for peace will mean that Christians will lovingly tolerate each other, even when they have differences.”
My next steps are now clearer. Learn more of humility, gentleness, and patience. These virtues will show up in how I interact with my church family. I’m to be more concerned about unity and peace than I am about our differences, so begin there.
I wonder if these attitudes will spill over into my relationships with our unsaved family? No doubt. However, for right now, I’m to see the face of Christ and ask Him to demonstrate in me His lowliness, kindness and long-suffering. I already know I can’t do this without Him.
At the same time, I think about Harris’ book. It is a joy and a wonder to be like Jesus because He fills me with Himself and shines through me. It is quite a different experience to have the Holy Spirit go to work on me and get rid of all that which is not like Jesus. In this case, it is my pride, my harsh or a hard attitudes, and my impatience.
What will it take? I don’t know, but that is the cup that He asks me to drink.
My husband writes notes to me and puts them beside my cereal bowl before he goes to work. When I get up, usually just before or just after he goes out the door, I’ve a message for the day. These are often thank you notes, sometimes reminders to do an errand, and occasionally a few words to let me know that I forgot something or didn’t do something.
The note this morning was one of those “you blew it” messages, and it didn’t sit very well. I’d turned the television off last night, but the way our TV works, sometimes the cable box turns off but the TV doesn’t. This time, I didn’t notice the little red light that indicated it was still on, hence the note.
It’s a small thing, but I felt deflated and annoyed. I wanted to retaliate with, “Why did you tell me this? Just turn the blasted thing off. It happens to you all the time and I don’t make a big deal about it. Blah, blah, blah.”
God’s timing is priceless, again. My devotional guide takes me today to 2 Corinthians 4:10-11. It says, “ . . . always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are always delivered to death for Jesus’ sake, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.”
I know exactly what that means. Because I am a Christian, and because Jesus lives inside of me, I’m to be transparent and obedient. Otherwise, when people look at me, they see only me. That is not what God wants. He “commanded light to shine out of darkness” and has shone His light into my heart “to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” He is the treasure that this chapter of 1 Corinthians describes, the treasure in the “earthen vessel” of my life.
When Paul wrote this letter, he was under all kinds of pressures. He used words like hard-pressed on every side, perplexed, persecuted, struck down, yet he knew that God was using these trials to bring out the life of Christ in him. As the trials worked death in the sense that his human efforts became weaker and no longer effective, the power of God began to shine through him. People could see Jesus, not Paul. The life of Paul diminished and died as the life of Christ became the power that governed his responses to these difficult experiences.
So I get a little note and the life of me jumps out and reacts. If I follow through with my reaction, confront my husband (who is only trying to be helpful), insist on refusing this oh-so-mild rebuke, and act like an insecure little kid, then I’m not “carrying about in the body” the crucifixion of sin and selfishness that Jesus is trying to accomplish in me.
Little “trials” like this one reveal who and what is controlling my life, and show me where I need to die to self and allow the "life of Jesus to be manifested in my mortal flesh." If Jesus is shining in me and ruling my responses, I would think, Thank you. I missed that and need to pay more attention when I hit that off button.
Nit-picking? No. This is a bigger problem than not using the remote properly. It is an “I refuse to let you correct me” attitude. Since my spouse is to love me as Christ loved the church, part of what that love means is that he also desires I be sanctified and cleansed so I might be glorious, holy and without blemish.
I need to cooperate. It isn’t about TVs but about being willing to say ‘yes’ to correction, whether it comes to me through him, or directly from his Lord and mine.
Some people instantly strike me as fakes. Is it their smarmy voice? Their limp handshake? Eyes that refuse to contact mine? Over-sincere efforts? Usually I can’t pinpoint exactly what says “fake” to me, but most of the time my first impression turns out to be the right one.
Others are just the opposite. That person is kind and generous, or this one is sincere and truthful. I may not shake their hand or see them beyond a public situation, but they have something about them that shouts a good first impression. If I later have opportunity to know them better, those first thoughts often turn out to be accurate.
I’ve been told, as most have, to be aware of first impressions. We make them and we get them when we meet people. Although being caught on an off day happens, many times, that first impression tells the tale and even if it doesn’t, we know it has a habit of sticking in our minds.
Our Sunday morning ladies class is studying how Christ makes a difference in our lives and how He changes the way we think, talk and act. After spending several weeks on things like the fruit of the Spirit, we’ve moved into the gifts of the Spirit. Yesterday we had to agree that anything God gives us is a gift!
We do nothing to earn or deserve the blessings of God. However, because He lives in us, we can live differently than we used to and different from those who don’t know Him. The Bible is clear that those differences should be obvious.
This was true for at least one of the Old Testament prophets. Elisha traveled through a certain town called Shunem. Every time he passed through, a certain wealthy woman pressed him to eat at her home. She told her husband, “Look now, I know that this is a holy man of God, who passes by us regularly. Please, let us make a small upper room on the wall; and let us put a bed for him there, and a table and a chair and a lampstand; so it will be, whenever he comes to us, he can turn in there.”
How did she know that Elisha was a holy man of God? At that point, she had seen no miracles, healings, or heard him preach. He may have ‘looked the part’ but I doubt prophets had a dress code. He must have had a manner or way about him that was different, but not just different, holy.
This passage in 2 Kings prompts me to question the marks of a holy person. If I met one, would I be able to identify them as holy? More to the point, if someone meets me, would they know that I am holy, or would I convey an entirely different impression?
Holy, when used to describe God, means “other than” or so much more than what we are. We might show some virtue, but God is above even our best efforts. Holy, when used to describe people, at least according to my Oxford dictionary, means “dedicated to God or a religious purpose” and “morally and spiritually excellent and to be revered.”
But Holy people do not come across as holier-than-thou. They are without spiritual pride yet keep their lives pure. They don’t push that purity in the face of others. A holy person is deeply interested in the things of God and the will of God. Holiness is personal and yet a holy person cares about others, is not always talking about himself and is considerate and thoughtful.
I could keep going, but I’m already convicted. The difference Christ makes in me shows up in some ways, but holiness is not as visible as it should be. While I’d like to make a good first impression on others, and certain maintain later good impressions, I’m more concerned that I obey His command from the New Testament. It says, “As He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, because it is written, ‘Be holy, for I am holy.’”
Jesus has made a difference in my life, not just so I am set free from sin and given an abundant and joyful life, great as that is, but I’ve an amazing image to reflect. I’m supposed to be like Jesus, and people are supposed to see Him in me.
Elisha’s non-verbal testimony reminds me of that old truism: a person seldom gets a second chance to make a first impression. God wants holiness and Jesus gives that to me. I need to be more consistent in letting it show.
Yesterday, I was in a brief conversation with a warm, intelligent woman. Somehow we got on the topic of the way major religions treat women. She had quite a negative view gleaned from a university course on that topic. Concerning Christianity, she cited several horrendous periods of history when women were severely abused in the name of religion.
My response to that was the human tendency to shift blame. For instance, if the men in one religion have a problem with lust whenever they catch a glimpse of a woman’s skin, they blame the woman. I suggested that those who do horrible things in the name of their religion are simply buck-passing.
She picked up on that and said how she was raised to be responsible for her actions. She was quite aware how that virtue has been thrown out the window and how people blame their parents, the government, their culture, everything else but themselves when they do something wrong.
I pointed out that this is not a new thing. When confronted about the very first disobedience, Adam told God, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I ate.” Adam had the audacity to tell God it was His fault for the woman being there in the first place, and her fault that he ate the forbidden fruit!
After laughing about that, I then suggested that the people who committed atrocities in the name of their religion were not practicing their faith, just blaming it for what they were doing. At that point, we were interrupted and the conversation ended.
This morning I’m still thinking about that last part, how people claim to be religious but don’t act like it. Jesus warned the disciples that wolves would come in dressed in sheep’s clothing, but saying you are a sheep and wearing wool does not make you one, no more than standing in a garage makes you a car, but how can true Christians be identified? We are supposed to profess our faith, so saying it is one way, but obviously saying it does not make it so. I can even say I am honest and be lying.
John, the disciple “whom Jesus loved,” wrote 1 John with this in mind. He offers a series of tests, such as, if I say I love God but do not love His people, my faith is suspect. If I say I have fellowship with God, but walk in darkness and sin, I’m am lying. If I say I have no sin, I am deceived; everyone is a sinner.
At the end of the book, John gives the bottom line. “And this is the testimony: that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life.”
It’s all about Jesus. If He is in my life, if I know Him personally and experience a real and intimate relationship with Him, I have eternal life. This is subjective, but not entirely. I could imagine it or say it is true, yet the rest of the book is clear; if Jesus is in my life, it will be obvious in the way I think, talk and act. I will slip and fall now and then, but Christ will be at work in me and be changing me. The fact is, no one can have Jesus and not be affected. His life is far too powerful. It will become obvious.
That does not happen to people who just say they are Christians. Instead, their walk will eventually fail to match their talk, or even if they ‘look good’ for a long while, God will confront them, maybe in the trials of life or maybe on judgment day, and the reality of where they stand will be made known.
After talking to a few people about my goal ‘to become a sweet little old lady’ I realize this means different things to different people. Besides the teasing of my brother, who said after a long pause, “You better get on that” then laughed loudly as only he can, each response made me realize that my goal needs clarification.
My ‘sweet little old lady’ models are few. None were blue-haired, sitting-in-the-corner-knitting types. They didn’t gossip. They were not meddlers, nor were they oblivious to the ways of their current culture. These were wise women who each had a spark, a quality of life obviously unrelated to their age or temperament.
The first is my original mentor who was so filled with the Holy Spirit that when her husband died, she comforted everyone else, and shared that her grief was mostly “just feeling sorry for myself.” She walked with Jesus and everyone knew it.
The second is a missionary who had nine children. Despite her busy and challenging life, she was always joyful and continually thankful, a delight to be around. Her attitude to life could be explained only by her relationship with the Lord.
The third was the wife of our pastor in another city. She was a wise and mostly serious person, dignified, always calm, and yet quick to see the funny side of things. She was my ‘even keel’ example of how to live when life became chaotic, an example of someone who deeply trusts the Lord no matter what.
While these three had little in common otherwise, their sweet personalities flowed from the same source and their lives stood on the same foundation. They walked with God. I was reminded of all three when I read these verses in Hebrews 9:
“But Christ came as High Priest of the good things to come, with the greater and more perfect tabernacle not made with hands, that is, not of this creation. Not with the blood of goats and calves, but with His own blood He entered the Most Holy Place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption. For if the blood of bulls and goats and the ashes of a heifer, sprinkling the unclean, sanctifies for the purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?”
This is about the perfect sacrifice of Jesus Christ compared to the temporary sacrifices made in the Old Testament before He came to earth. It explains that those sacrifices, made in faith, had to be repeated, but His sacrifice is good for eternity. Not only that, instead of merely making a sinner clean until the next sin, His shed blood secures a greater cleansing than the blood from animals, a cleansing that lasts for eternity.
It is the last phrase that turned my mind to goals. For me, being a sweet little old lady means being a person who abandons “dead works to serve the living God.” Dead works might look good to others, but if they come from the flesh and are produced without the power of the Holy Spirit, they are worthless in the sight of God and have no eternal value.
In contrast, serving God means giving all that I am to Him, just as Jesus did, and allowing Him to work in my life and through my life to serve God. I have been set free from sin for that purpose, and this is what shapes my goal.
My mentors had different ways of doing things, but the Holy Spirit constantly motivated each of them. Nothing they did could be described as “dead works.” The Holy Spirit’s love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control was obvious in their lives. In that, they were sweet (like candy), easy to enjoy and universally appealing.
Being like that is a worthy goal, but my brother is right; I’m not there yet, and better get on it!
I’ve been reading a serious book by Greg Harris called The Cup and the Glory. It starts out in the gospels where the disciples ask Jesus to give them places of honor when He comes into His glory. Jesus told them that they did not know what they were asking, “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?”