Through the Eyes of Jesus

Sometimes it seems to me everyone has ulterior motives, everyone is sinning in some way. Yet there are other times when all I can see is virtue and goodness — in the same people.

Today I see how Titus 1:15 has a bearing on my experience. It says, “To the pure all things are pure, but to those who are defiled and unbelieving nothing is pure; but even their mind and conscience are defiled.”

The only totally pure person is Jesus Christ. When He looks at me and anyone else who believes in Him, what does He see? Not our sinfulness, for He has covered it with His own blood. We are forgiven and clean in His sight. In contrast, the most wicked people see Christians as foul hypocrites with ulterior motives and impure lives.

Applying that to my tendency to see people two ways, I realize the problem is not with others but with me. If my heart is right, I will see people as Jesus does. Their sins will be under the blood, and even if I notice, I will be praying for them, not condemning them. If my heart is not right, then I will see people only in their fleshy, sinful nature.

Yikes, what an awful realization. A pure heart is not blind but tender and merciful, looking for goodness in others, but my heart is too often impure. I see that in how I get angry or frustrated with others instead of seeing them as people struggling with the same things as myself. What right do I have to become annoyed at anyone for ‘inconveniencing’ me by their failures. That is so unkind, and so unlike Jesus.

Any impurity in my own heart clearly indicates that I am not in the Spirit but in the flesh, controlled by my sin nature instead of the Lord. From that low vantage point I cannot see the true spirituality of others, only their sinful nature. It goes farther — when I’m filled with myself, I am selfish, picky, vindictive, critical, etc.

So when someone screws up and it brings out the worst in me, I’ve no right to be critical. Instead, I must be filled with the Spirit and take an entirely different view — looking at them and what they are doing through the eyes of Jesus.

Praying is Hard Work

I thank God, whom I serve with a pure conscience, as my forefathers did, as without ceasing I remember you in my prayers night and day . . . (2 Timothy 1:3).

No one can pray without ceasing unless their heart is pure, their conscience clear of any conviction. This is why spiritual warfare is so difficult. Keeping myself unspotted is one thing, but should that be the case, the enemy is right there with false accusations and other harassments to keep me from bringing pure prayer before the Lord. Most of the time I feel my prayers are so hopelessly inadequate anyway, so that adds to the pressure to cut them short or just not bother.

Paul says he thanks God that he remembers to pray night and day. As I battle with the world, the flesh and the devil to stay in “praying mode” I can identify with his gratitude. Unless the Lord helps me, this work is far too difficult. I would never pray.

Finger Pointing

The Apostle Paul wrote to Timothy and said, “Do not lay hands on anyone hastily, nor share in other people’s sins; keep yourself pure” (1 Timothy 5:22).

This verse is a caution about ordination — don’t put someone into public ministry without a thorough examination of their qualifications. Should that unqualified person mislead people, you will share in their guilt. Keep your own life clean.

I don’t ordain leaders, but do see a principle for my own life: Don’t do the same things as those whose lives I disapprove — keep my own life clean. I can think of dozens of ways to apply this. If people are gossiping, telling crude jokes, griping about something, engaged in any doubtful activities, or disobeying God in any way, I’m not to share in that, approve of that, even stand around and let it happen.

Instead, I’m to speak the truth in love, rebuke those who need rebuking with the attitude that they become pure and clean also, and keep my life clean while I’m doing it. That is, I cannot confront a gossip and then gossip about them. I cannot tell someone to be thankful and then gripe about their griping. I cannot challenge someone’s lifestyle and turn around and do the same, or talk about them behind their backs, or grumble that no one cares about purity but me.

The standards and demands of Christian living are very high. No way but by the grace of God can I ever be this kind of person. I need forgiveness for trying to help others live purer lives when I myself need help, sometimes with the very same thing that I have criticized in them.

Distractions when Praying

Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things (Philippians 4:8).

Meditation is tough, and concentration seems more difficult the older I get. For the past few months I thought it was my aging brain, but the other night we were playing cranium and I aced every category. God thoroughly convinced me that there is nothing wrong with the speed of my brain or my memory. How liberating!

So I’m rethinking my difficulties with prayer. Could it be that as I grow older I am learning more about how to pray, and I am praying with a greater understanding of God and His will? While I often have no clue how to pray for some things, the Lord has taught me about prayer, and does that make me a threat? I can picture the enemy of our souls watching me get ready to pray. He knows my greatest strengths and weaknesses. He knows just how to draw me away from this most important activity.

My spiritual gift is teaching, which requires the ability to be interested in many things. The downside of that is being easily distracted. I know only too well that I must pray with my eyes closed, and if not closed, focused on a list!

I find meditation on the truth, on lofty and just things, pure and lovely, or simply good news is difficult. My mind wanders too easily. I know only too well that I must pray out loud.

My hands and body does not do well being idle. I fidget, wanting to ‘do something’ — so have learned that the best way for me to pray is while I am walking, preferably briskly. That way I am free to focus on the prayer list in my hand.

Now I imagine this granny marching down the street with a piece of paper in hand, lips moving and sometimes muttering, moaning and sometimes rejoicing out loud. The neighbors are lenient, but someday they might call the cops! I’ve also learned that while going outdoors for a prayer walk is simply the best way for me to pray, sometimes it might be better to use my stationary bike or treadmill!

Weep with those who weep

Compassion is not my strong suit. I don’t do well comforting suffering people. I’m a teacher and would rather figure out why a person is suffering, then recommend what they need to do about it.
Intellectually, I know this is not very kind. I try to put myself in their shoes, feel their confusion and pain, but even if I have “been there, done that” pain is easy to forget. God made us that way, and who really wants to remember it anyway?
Compassion is difficult for me. I also have to watch that I’m not like Job’s friends. Poor Job knew that his calamities were not punishment for some sin, but he did not understand (and God was not telling him) the actual reason all those things were happening to him. His so-called friends were also perplexed, but rather than wrestle the question with Job or comfort him, they came up with answers that made sense to them. They assumed Job was lying about his spiritual state and must be covering up some sin. After all, God does not do things without reason.
I can also approach sufferers from the position of one who is not suffering and proud that God has ‘blessed’ me. I can be like Elihu, who claimed, “My words come from my upright heart; my lips utter pure knowledge. . . . I am pure, without transgression; I am innocent, and there is no iniquity in me.” He put words in Job’s mouth and thought if he would just repent, everything would be okay. This is pure arrogance.
God often reminds me that I cannot make assumptions about His actions by reminding me of His greatness. Whenever someone suffers (myself included) I can simply trust Him. Like Job, I may never know His reasons for suffering, but this God who has saved me is also worthy of my trust, no matter what is going on. That is what I need to tell others who are in pain: God is in charge. He loves us — and already proved it by sending His Son to die for us. His ways are not our ways, He is working things together for good to those who love Him back. During the storms of life, rather than lash out at Him with “why,” we can cling to Him for comfort and strength.

Seeing God

One of my favorite modern songs has the line, “I want to see You . . . “ expressing the yearning of my heart to see God. When we sing it, I’m thinking about that day when I will see Him face to face, but also thinking of now, how I want to see Him now — at work in my life, in the lives of those I pray for, and in the sin-sick world around us. I want ‘evidence of God’ that is visible, not to prove to me that He exists, but a display of His power and glory, a show of the wonder of our God. I want to see Him high and lifted up, on the throne, sovereign and full of grace.
This morning I read two verses that bring home my part is in seeing God. 2 Samuel 22:27 says, “With the pure You will show Yourself pure. . . .” and Matthew 5:8 echos it, “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.”
The invisible God makes Himself known to those whose hearts are pure before Him. Purity means clean, but also set apart for Him, sanctified, wholly dedicated to Him. It means thinking of Him, wanting His name known, hating and rejecting sin and temptation. It means exalting Him even if I don’t see Him, but when I do, giving Him glory, pointing to Him. All attention is on God, none on me or anyone or anything else.
The glimpses I have of God whet my appetite. Lord, how I long to see You. May I long with the same intensity for that purity that will allow me to see You with greater breadth and clarity.

Avoiding Legalism

In Acts 10, God confronted Peter with a vision of all sorts of creatures and told him to eat. Peter was horrified and responded, “Not so, Lord! For I have never eaten anything common or unclean.”
God had a big lesson for Peter. This man knew Jewish law forbid certain foods. However, their law also forbid them to intermarry with or be involved in the religions of the nations around them. Instead, they were to take the good news of the glory of God to others.
Through the years, their attitude toward these neighbor nations had become the same as their attitude toward forbidden food — they were unclean, and all contact was forbidden. Peter even said, “You know how unlawful it is for a Jewish man to keep company with or go to one of another nation.”
God used this vision to show Peter that his thinking about clean and unclean needed to change before he could share the Gospel with the Gentiles. Peter learned his lesson. He said, “But God has shown me that I should not call any man common or unclean.”

As I read this, I wondered how much of that type of transfer happens in the church? God tells us that gambling is a sin. We stop all gambling, but then some refuse to play a card game with their children because that too is a sin. God tells us that sex outside marriage is a sin, but some think sex within marriage is also dirty or unclean and refuse to enjoy it with their spouse. God teaches us that drunkenness is sin, but some refuse to lift a toast to the bride at a wedding.

There are two sides to this. Romans 14:14 says, I know and am convinced by the Lord Jesus that there is nothing unclean of itself; but to him who considers anything to be unclean, to him it is unclean.
What about the person whose conscience is bothered by doing something that I consider not sinful? God says for them it is unclean. Perhaps they are not sure where to draw the line, so instead of trying to figure out what might be okay and what is sinful, they refuse to involve themselves in any part of it. For example, all games are sinful, all sex is sinful, or all drinking is sinful.
While I must respect a tender conscience, I know this “all ... is sin” attitude can lead to legalism. This is that attitude that assumes, “because I feel guilty about doing this, then you too are guilty if you do it.”
How can a person whose tender conscience forbids something deal with those who are not bothered by doing the same thing? An older woman was visiting us. When our young granddaughter asked if she wanted to play a game, she said yes. Our granddaughter brought a deck of cards. This woman gently said, “Oh, I don’t do well with cards. Can you find another game that we can play?”
She later shared with me that her family history included gambling via card playing which led to great strife and loss. To her, it was a sin, but she didn’t dump that on others.
Our freedom in Christ is precious, but so are the souls around us. Before I flaunt the freedom I have, I need to be cautious about those with tender conscience. On the other hand, before I am quick to judge others in activities that my conscience forbids, I need to remember that God restricts me for good reason.