Lately I've sensed an increasing number of Christians who feel that something important is missing from their church experience, their personal experience of God, or both. They often can't put their finger on what it is, but the number of people who feel this way is significant. I've seen it in many conversations and situations I know of first-hand, as well as sensing it as a subtle (even background) theme in much of what I read.
And what's interesting is that it's coming from within evangelical Christianity. I expect non-Christians to find Christianity somehow wanting - that's probably why they aren't Christians. But I'm talking about people who believe the Gospel of Jesus, and who participate in church regularly.
Below is a short video in which I share some of my observations about 4 places they're often going to look for "what's missing." And more importantly, what the answer is. Because in short, yes: I think something is often missing from our experience with God (as it has been from my own life for a long time). And better still, I think the Bible provides the answer to what it is. The answer hit me like a freight train this past Fall, and I discuss it in the video below (with a brief cameo appearance from Rosie the dog at the 12 minute mark!):
For some related thoughts on problems with the emergent church movement, see The Adrift Church?
For some related thoughts on how big (and sometimes small) evangelical churches tend to miss the centrality of the Gospel, see The Glitzy Church?
Is Something Missing In Church?
The Control Room Blew Up
Have you ever felt totally incapable of making something happen? Like you're stuck in some small pit, penned in a closet-like space by circumstances beyond your control. Sure, you can still do things. But the things you do really don't seem like they'll ever result in you breaking out of the pit. Your efforts feel like they amount to running in circles around the bottom of your little pit. No real hope of anything useful -- like, oh you know, actually getting out -- but at least it beats sitting on the floor doing nothing. I guess.
I've had three such experiences this week. That's big. Especially for a control freak like me. And yes, I am a control freak. A classic, bona-fide, getter-done achiever type. If there were a 12-step program to cure people from control freakishness I'd be a fantastic candidate for attending. Except that I'd ruin the process by trying to take control of it. I can just see it now: as soon as I stood in front of my circle of fellow high-strung neurotics and said "My name is Matt Guerino and I'm a control freak", I'd immediately turn around and begin researching everything about how to stop being a control freak, so that I could grab this control-freak thing by the horns and whip it into shape.
Yeeeeah. Feel free to re-read that last sentence and savor the irony.
This is what made my three "impossible pit" scenes last week so hard. First up: last weekend was Sanctity of Human Life weekend. And truthfully, I had no plan for Sunday's services. I knew it was coming back in November, but the Christmas holidays were so packed with things at the church that I had zero time to think about this significant weekend. Zilch. Nada. And by the way, whomever picked January for such an annual emphasis sure didn't consult with me. You can talk about the anniversary date of Roe v. Wade all you want, but coming on the heels of Christmas makes for a brutal time for pastors to get anything planned! Remember, I like my control here people.
But the weekend approached, and as it did so did the conviction in my mind and heart that we needed to focus on abortion. I prayed. The conviction grew stronger. I had no plan. The conviction grew stronger. I had no time to pull a big shin-dig together - to control what the weekend was going to look like. How do you broach so emotional a topic with the right balance of grace and truth, especially if you don't have 3 months of planning (control) behind it? And I told God all this. Really, I did. But he didn't listen. The conviction grew stronger. Then all in a flash (well, over a couple hours anyway) I came across several things that made the weekend message quickly fall into place, including my friend Diane's testimony which I hadn't read in several years. The service was done, the message was given, and I believe grace and truth carried the day. Without my control. Hmmmmm...
Next up: a friend with a large family and modest income got hit with a big surgery bill, and a mere 4 days later was also told by his tax preparer that instead of getting a couple thousand dollars back from Uncle Sam, he owed a couple thousand. Over $5,000 in new debt slammed him almost at once. I felt horrible. We talked. We brainstormed. We sought control! None could be found. So, trapped in that familiar pit I simply prayed. I actually asked God to drop $5,000 out of the sky in one form or other, because I didn't see how anything would change otherwise.
The next day he discovered an error the tax preparer had made, and it turns out that a small refund is coming as he'd originally thought. That was a $3,100 swing, just like that. There's another possible mistake which could result in a larger refund, and some hope on the medical bill front also came through unexpectedly that day. Wham. Without my control. Hmmmm...
Finally, Amy's had a rough week. She was fighting a flu which inflamed her chronic pain and also resulted in a bizarre new back muscle pain problem, all of which finally culminated in a searing headache. She hadn't slept well, and I was powerless to fix any of this. Stuck at the bottom of a very familiar pit. I can tell you, it stinks. On second thought, I really can't tell you how badly that stinks.
I put Tommy to bed that night and we prayed that God would give mommy a good night's sleep - just that - although I figured that was virtually certain not to happen. She slept for almost 8 hours straight and over the next couple days made remarkable progress on all fronts. All without my control. Hmmmm...
What is the point? He is the breakthrough. Not me. The common factors in each situation were that I had zero ability to make anything happen (though I had a role to play). I prayed - as did others - and things happened.
By the way, there's a wrong lesson that can be drawn from this. The point is NOT that God will do what I want if I just ask him. If you read this and think I'm saying "just ask God to take your problems away and he will," then I'm not communicating. That's not it at all. He might, he might not. He is God. He does what he does, not what I want him to.
No, the right lesson is this: God is the one who both determines a path and enables progress along it. Not me.
I sit here writing this at 5am. I've been up since 3:15. Couldn't sleep. Like a lot of pastors, I suspect, I awoke in the middle of the night with concern for my church and the spiritual growth of its people flooding my mind. Couldn't get back to sleep. I'm encouraged by the example of the Apostle Paul (another control freak, by the way) who said that concern for the churches he planted was one of his heaviest burdens. So it goes, I suppose, in this church leadership thing.
So I prayed for a while, realizing that I'm doing everything I can and should be doing that I'm aware of, but that in the end I cannot make people grow in faith. That is not my role, it is God's. He is the breakthrough.
Maybe this energetic go-getter needs to learn that so that I don't contend for his glory, even unintentionally. Maybe the worst possible scenario for a church isn't that it goes nowhere, but that it goes somewhere in our eyes and people get the credit for that instead of God. He is the one who makes life change happen, and he gets the credit (glory) for it. It's his church after all.
Only a control freak would want it otherwise.
What to Give, What to Give...
Deciding what to give someone else isn't just a challenge at Christmas time or on birthdays. For the Christian, deciding what to give to the Lord's work is an ongoing challenge. As a pastor I've had numerous people inquire over the years into what the Bible actually teaches about our giving. "But wait," we might say, "that's not a difficult decision at all. God specified in the Bible exactly what we're supposed to give: 10% of our gross income." That's true, the Bible did say that. However, it's not quite that simple.
Different Day, Different Law
The Bible taught God's people to give 10% of their gross income to the Lord in Leviticus 27:30-32. Notice, that's Leviticus: the law for God's people under the Old Covenant. But we're under the New Covenant now. Leviticus is the same book that also taught God's people to avoid eating pork and to bring an animal to the priest and have it killed for their sin. But we don't do those things anymore. I'm quite the fan of good, thick-cut bacon, and in almost a dozen years of full time pastoring I have (thankfully!!) never seen anyone bring a goat to church on a Sunday morning so I could slaughter it for them.
You see, part of the reason people have asked me over the years what the Bible teaches about giving is that they hear "you should give 10%; it's in the Bible," regularly, but they sense that something is amiss because that's Old Testament Law. And they're right. Sometimes I think evangelical teachers & preachers might be guilty of cherry-picking the pieces of the Law of Moses which suit our purposes, and leaving aside the rest.
Now, the question of how to correctly and consistently apply the Law of Moses to Christians today may need another post by itself (perhaps some thoughts on that should be the next post?). But for now, the important thing to note is that the strict 10% giving law is one we're no longer under. 2 Corinthians 9:7 says that we should give "not under compulsion", so it's clear that being forced to give a certain amount is not the Biblical ideal. That doesn't mean the 10% standard is meaningless (more below), but it does mean it's not our rote obligation.
The Good and Bad with Law
And that's a good thing. In fact we usually like the idea of a law going away; of personal freedom, and of making our own choice. But let's be honest, a strict law in the Bible does have some advantages. For one thing, I know exactly where I stand with God! Did I give 10%? Then I'm good with God. Clearly defined lines provide a ready answer to the question 'am I giving enough?', and as such they provide a sense of security.
But there's a downside too: clearly defined lines also provide a limit on personal growth. After all, if I knew that God required me to, say, read my Bible three times per week, would I have incentive to read it more than that? Likewise, if I'm supposed to give exactly 10% and I do so, the result is that an "I've done my part" mentality sets in, and this actually de-motivates me from further growth.
New Testament Giving
So then, we're back to the question: how much does God want me to give?
Rather than specifying a specific amount of money to give, the New Testament provides 4 principles which every Christian should use to evaluate - and plan - their giving. All 4 principles can be found in 2 Corinthians 8 & 9, as well as throughout the New Testament. My suggestion is to give your giving plan some concerted thought at least once per year, and let these principles shape your giving plan.
Principle #1 - Generosity
2 Corinthians 8:3-7 tells us to excel in the grace of giving, up to and even pushing the limits of our means. Clearly, we're to give generously. But how much is "generous"? God leaves that to each individual to determine. But that's not as undefined as it might sound at first. After all, we know generosity when we see it, don't we? We also know its opposite - stinginess - when we see it too. When a man who earns $200,000 per year gives $100 to a local charity, we don't call that generous. Nice maybe, but not generous. He can afford it. But when a family of 6 living on $25,000 per year scrimps and saves so they can give the same $100, we rightly say 'wow, that's generous!' In the same way, as you look at your income, your spending, and your giving, would an honest, third-party observer look at what you give and call it "generous"?
Principle #2 - Cheerfulness
2 Corinthians 9:7 tells us that whatever amount we give, the giving is to be done "cheerfully". This isn't really about how much I give, but rather about how I feel about the act of giving. Does my money leave my hand reluctantly? Does my heart sigh when I write that check to my church because I think of all the things I could do with that money for myself? Does giving feel like a burden? Or is it a joy? God cares very much about where our hearts are at in the giving process. In 2 Corinthians 8:3-4 Paul lauds the Macedonian churches because they literally begged to give. It was not a burden, but a joy! That's what God wants from us.
Principle #3 - The Precedent
I mentioned above that the Old testament 10% tithing law still has some relevance for today: it serves as a precedent. God no longer stipulates a specific amount that his followers must give, but when he did he specified 10%. So based on that precedent, if I give less than 10% now, it is not likely that my giving would be considered by God as being "generous".
I've heard the 10% giving standard referred to as God's "training wheels" for giving. I think that's a good metaphor. With a bicycle, the point of taking the training wheels off is not so that you will ride you bike even slower, but that you would really take off and go much farther and faster than the training wheels allow you to. So it is with giving. God once stipulated 10%, and now he takes that mandate off of us and says "give cheerfully and generously!" with the goal being that we would delight in doing much more than that.
Principle #4 - Reward
Some Christians are uncomfortable with the Biblical doctrine of eternal rewards, but we shouldn't be. 2 Corinthians 9:6 makes the point clearly and forcefully: if you give a lot now, you'll enjoy a bigger reward for all eternity. Why does God tell us this? To motivate us to fund his kingdom now. It's difficult to get excited about giving more when it feels like a loss. But it's far easier to get excited about it when we realize that the more we give, the more we gain in eternity. Biblical giving isn't a net loss, it's a net gain.
But this requires having an eternal perspective; that is, living this life in light of the next. When I sit down to plan my giving, am I thinking only about this year, this month, or this week? Am I 100% focused on the needs and expenses I have right now, and how much I can afford to let go of today? Or is part of my thought process focused on eternity, and how much of God's kingdom I want to have made happen when I stand before God? Remembering that today's sacrifices = much bigger reward later is a powerful motivator to give.
Give Like Eternity Depends On It
These 4 principles...
...Generosity
...Cheerfulness
...Precedent
...Reward
shape the Christian understanding of giving. When we fully embrace what Christ has done for us, and when we become captivated by his future plan for a redeemed life on the New Earth full of God's goodness and glory, giving takes on a whole new meaning. The reasons we give change, and consequently the amounts we give do as well. As we fund the expansion of God's kingdom rather than of our own little kingdoms, more and more people come to understand who Christ is and experience his forgiveness. But if God's people become too fixated on life here and now, others may miss out on the gospel of Christ.
God wants us to give like eternity depends on it. Because it does!
Why We Read
Are You Listening To Me?
Ever had the experience of talking with someone who isn't really listening to you? You know, they hear your words just long enough to form their own thought or their own idea, and at that point they disengage from what you're saying and just wait for a chance to jump in and talk about their thing. And of course you know they weren't really listening to you. They weren't interested in trying to follow your train of thought, or connect with your heart or your mind. They're only interested in making public the private goings-on of their own little mental space.
Amy and I talked about this just the other day, and we've had similar conversations with a Filipino friend named Lidj who writes a reflective, heartfelt blog called Crown of Beauty. There are those who listen just long enough to look for an opportunity to make their own point, or to get a quick shot of inspiration themselves. They hear only in order to speak, not in order to listen. On the other hand there are those who listen in order to connect with the heart of the speaker. They invest themselves in following another's flow of thought, and seek to get out of their own shoes as best they can to walk in the speaker's shoes. I have learned the value of this from people like my bride and our friend Lidj.
You know, I find it telling that ours is a world full of lonely people. And at the same time it is also a world full of people who are not great listeners. Coincidence? I think not.
Blowing Out Mental Cobwebs
C.S. Lewis applied the same thinking to what - and how - we read. He once wrote that we should all make sure that we read some old books; books that were written in a totally different time period than our own. The benefit is that these books can help us not get stuck in the thinking of our own time. Old books, Lewis wrote, are like "the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds." Reading books from people who lived long before us, and who saw the world differently, gives us perspective and stretches our understanding. In this way, old books help us grow as people and allow us to see things we wouldn't have seen if our thinking was limited only to the vantage point of our own times.
What Lewis was getting at is a problem common to all people: we're comfortable with what we already know. Because of this we're often not terribly interested in entertaining new thoughts or new ideas. After all, being stretched or challenged takes energy, work, and the willingness to tolerate a bit of discomfort. Left to ourselves, we sometimes feel very little incentive to want to change.
What Did He Say?
I find it telling that ours is a world full of people who increasingly know no perspective but their own. And at the same time it is also a world full of people who do not read for an author's meaning. Coincidence? I think not.
When we read, we tend to read for what we want to get out of it. Does it inspire me? Intrigue me? Entertain me? If so, I call it good writing. If not, I don't. In either case the author's intent has not registered as something of significance. We're focused on what we received, not necessarily on what the writer was saying. After all, if it doesn't inspire or benefit me in some immediate way, why should I care what an author wants to say?
Understand First, React Second
When I teach Christian Worldview to adult undergraduate students, I tell them that if they want a good grade from me they have to do two things on every assignment in the following order: first, understand what the author/speaker is saying. Comprehend his flow of thought well enough that you can give it back to me in your own words accurately. Then, and only then, may you move on to the next step, which is to evaluate what he is saying and agree or disagree.
Why do I make such a point of this? Because it doesn't come naturally to us. We tend to quickly get wind of where an author or speaker is going, and we immediately begin making judgments about it before we've even heard him out. We know what we're comfortable with and we have little interest in being stretched beyond it. So we prejudge what others say before they've even finished saying it, which is a defense mechanism of sorts in that it gives us permission to stay comfortable, and to prevent new thoughts from challenging us.
The challenge for the students is a difficult one. I issue this challenge in part to get non-Christian students to at least understand Christianity on its own terms, not just some popular misconception of it. But you know what? The Christian students in my classes are just as bad at this as everyone else. Throughout the course we look at some non-Christian worldviews too and I tell them the same thing: learn it first, fairly and accurately. Then you may respond. But this is hard for many of them to do. The moment they get wind that an idea came from somewhere other than the Bible, their brains shut down and all the emotional defenses go up.
The students who do take me up on the challenge all end up saying the same thing, whether they're Christians or not. They tell me the class was informative, challenging, and they'd never thought about their beliefs in this way before. Many of them go so far as to say they weren't even aware that they could think about their beliefs this way. Because they accepted my challenge to understand first, they leave the class with a whole new set of tools to process what they believe and why. They're better people for having been stretched. For having listened.
Sacred Stretching
And all of this affects our relationship with God. Too often, I think, Christians approach the Bible or the Sunday morning sermon with exactly the same mentality. How often do we open the Bible looking for good advice, looking for a nugget of truth to carry us through our day, or looking for feelings of inspiration, pure and simple? We come to the Bible with our questions, with our felt needs. We come with our agenda. And we may not be listening.
But what of God? What is his agenda? What's he trying to say? What did a Biblical author have in mind when he was writing the text we're looking at? What was his point, what was he trying to get across? Do such questions even occur to us?
God has given us his word to increase our understanding. He does not merely offer us comfort, inspiration, and warm feelings (though these things are sometimes part of the package). Rather, the Ancient of Days beckons us to his throne so that he can teach us, stretch us, and make us new creatures. He does not intend to increase our comfort with who we are. He intends to unmake who we are, so he can remake us in the image of his Son.
The Old Book
So I think CS Lewis was right: we should read old books to expand our perspective and broaden our horizons. But as Lewis himself pointed out, this only works if we read for the author's meaning; if we view the reading of a book the same way we would view a tour through a museum, in which we go to learn and a docent instructs us in things we did not know. Authors of good old books are docents of knowledge. Let them teach you.
And perhaps we should read The Old Book with the same idea in mind. Perhaps we should avoid approaching the Bible firmly ensconced in our existing, limited point of view, determined to find something that fits who we already are. Rather, let us come to the Scripture as the storehouse of the knowledge of the Holy One, and let his Holy Spirit be the Docent of Things High and Lofty.
These things may indeed be too high for us now. But if we let him have his way we'll find that he will re-make us so thoroughly that we will be able to bear them. If only we'll open ourselves up to the adventure.
Learning to listen - to read for understanding of the author rather than just for affirmation of what I already know - is a priceless skill. When this discipline takes root in us it actually changes our character. It makes us good listeners, good friends, good people. And most important of all, it makes us good followers of Jesus Christ.
As Jesus himself said, "he who has ears, let him hear."
Loving Racket
Everyone knows life never fully measures up to what we want it to be. And we all have ways of responding to it when it doesn't. Noise may be one of them.
Here's what I mean: ever feel like you can't turn off the TV, radio, or other media even when you're not actually listening/watching? I noticed this years ago when I had to commute to work in the car. Even on days when I wasn't really paying much attention to the radio, or when I wasn't really that interested in what was being said or played, I had to have it on. It was like turning it off made me uncomfortable - I couldn't handle the silence.
Why, I wondered? Maybe because I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. Perhaps if I was alone with them they would wander to the chronic pain in my home, or the goals Amy and I (mostly I) had set that didn't get achieved in our time frame. Maybe the constant background noise was a way of crowding out serious reflection and thinking.
Maybe I wanted it that way.
But perhaps that's not the Biblical way of seeing life's disappointments. Maybe there's a healthier, more God-honoring way of responding to them. That's where the following quote from John Wesley, which I found just recently, really struck me. Wesley talks about what it means to really submit to the kingship of Jesus in our lives. He writes:
Whether it be higher or lower, a prosperous or afflicted state: be content that Christ should both choose your work, and choose your condition; that he should have the command of you, and the disposal of you: make me what you will, Lord, and set me where you will…I put myself wholly into your hands: put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will; put me to doing, put me to suffering, let me be employed for you, or laid aside for you, exalted for you, or trodden under foot for you; let me be full, let me be empty, let me have all things, let me have nothing, I freely and heartily resign all to your pleasure and disposal
There it is: a whole different perspective on life's disappointments. Not something to be crowded out by noise, but something to be embraced as the road our Lord has ordained for us. But I cannot think this way, not truly, unless I have embraced the kingship of Jesus deeply.So I wrote a short devotional Bible study for the Colson Center, based on this quote from Wesley, that draws us in to the Scriptures and what they say about living a Prostrate Life. I hope you find it as meaningful as I have.
My difficulty with slowing down
I just wrote an article for the Colson Center for Christian Worldview called Sacred Disengagement. It's about our need to step back and reflect on our lives from time to time, with some suggestions for doing so. It was prompted in part by my pondering what it means that God rested on the 7th day of creation, and why he tells us to do the same thing. But there's a personal back story behind why I wrote about this in the first place.
The article was prompted in large part by my personal experience with sacred disengagement, which I didn't have room to get into in the article. Truth is, I find it really hard to do. I don't know why for sure, but I've always found it very difficult to take a few hours away and focus on things like prayer and reflection on my life. I just recently made another attempt: about a week ago I spent 5 days away. The first couple days was just fun, hanging out at my old mechanic buddy's house completely re-wiring the dash in my 1974 Scout and installing all new gauges. Yes, that is fun for me!
Doesn't this look like fun!?!But as usual I found the reflecting difficult. I parked myself by the lake one afternoon for a couple hours of reading and journaling. After 45 minutes I had made almost no progress. I found it difficult to know where to turn my Bible, or what to concentrate my mind on. A few gallant attempts at concentration ended predictably, with 1,000 busy things crowing in to my consciousness, rushing past every attempt I made to ward them off and keep them out for a while. I was frustrated.
So I packed my things back to the camp site and decided to go for a short hike. As I walked I decided that one way to tame the cacophony of urgent voices in my head was to name them. Perhaps if I gave voice to the thoughts I'd be able to identify them more clearly, lay them at God's feet in prayer, and let them go for a few days. So I began... and the words poured out. Sometimes whispering to myself as I walked, and sometimes walking in silence, my mind was a steady stream of ideas and thoughts, one leading to the next.Gradually most of the concerns on my mind had been named and I felt I was able to step back mentally and look at them. I began to ask myself questions, such as why certain things were current sources of stress, or what I was intending to do about some of what I had named. I asked myself the questions I would have asked someone else had they told me the same things. This series of questions led to a couple interesting conclusions, and some possible actions I should at least explore as the new school year begins. I hiked back to camp and wrote as many things down as I could remember.
When I returned home I talked extensively with Amy about the experience. She has developed a greater ability to slow down and reflect over the years than I have, brought on in part by her physical limitations but mostly by the mature way she has chosen to respond to them. When I described my initial frustrated attempt at sacred disengagement, she questioned some of my assumptions. That was helpful, and made me think about the whole experience differently. I think I learned at least a couple things about actually doing what I described the article.
First, movement and speaking are good for me. I already knew that the environment we're in is critical for reflection - that's why I chose Clear Lake up high in the mountains, a place I love. But sitting in the warm sunshine while tired and trying to just think does not work for me. It probably works great for some people. But I was struck by the contrast between my total inability to concentrate while sitting by the lake and the clean stream of ideas that flowed naturally while I was hiking briskly, getting my heart rate up some and whispering thoughts and ideas. I'm a verbal processor, and being a guy I find that my brain responds much better to activity than inactivity.
Second, I assumed that all my reflecting had been useful but that it nonetheless wasn't the kind of spiritual reflection I should be after. Amy challenged that assumption, which prompted me to think about the whole Clear Lake experience in different terms. Once I did, the stream of thought that had started while hiking eventually matured a couple days later into some concrete realizations, action plans, and a fresh perspective to start the year. I realized she was right. My idea of what "reflecting" meant was too narrow, a bit contrived and artificial.
That's what led me to think about God "resting" in Genesis 2. It also led me to read and ponder Elijah's experience in 1 Kings 19. And all that thinking and study eventually led to the article I linked above. I believe 100% in the accuracy and usefulness of what I wrote, but it came out of a very personal experience. One that was a challenge in some ways, but was rewarding in the end - just as I believe God intends Sacred Disengagement to be.
Morning lakeside
Fishing from a float tube!
This is one CLEAR lake
The very beginning of the McKenzie River
An ancient lava flow comes right down to the water
What We've Told Our Pre-Teen About God's Plan For Sex
No worries: this post is rated PG. :)
The messages are everywhere. Some more subtle, some less so. But all too familiar:
- If you've got it, flaunt it!
- Sex is fun and everyone's doing it - just do it safely.
- To be beautiful is to be sexy; they are the same.
The Biblical worldview tells us that God made everything for a purpose, but that everything was broken to some extent by our sin (what theologians call "the Fall"). This includes human sexuality: it was designed by God to work a certain way, and we want our kids to know and respect its intended purpose. So how do you explain that to them? Two things have been helpful to us.
First, prompted by a terrific study Amy is doing with Elizabeth, is Proverbs 5:19 which urges husbands to "be intoxicated always in [your wife's] love." Intoxicated is a strong word! God has designed a woman's body to allure - even intoxicate - a man. But only one man: her husband. We've talked with our daughter about the attraction power she will have as she grows, and who God intends her to reserve that attraction for. And she's also learning to recognize the way many women use their God-given attractiveness to draw attention to themselves from any man who will look.
Which led us to the second item: a great illustration (from a terrific little book called Ask Me Anything) of what happens when we don't use our sexuality the way God intended. Author J. Budziszewski says our sexuality in some ways can be compared to a piece of duct tape. The first time it is pressed to something it sticks strongly. But what happens if you peel it off and then stick it to another surface? Perhaps it adheres again, but not as strongly this time. If it is peeled off and pressed to a new surface time and again it will eventually lose its ability to stick at all.In the same way God intends human sexuality to cement the relationship between a husband and a wife. It's designed to add a unique level of intimacy to the marriage relationship. But if we go beyond God's intended boundary for sex by sharing our sexuality with others, either through inappropriate public displaying of our bodies or by trying to "stick" ourselves relationally to multiple partners via sexual activity, sex itself gradually loses some of its power to cement a marriage relationship the way God intended.
In all this we hope our daughter comes to understand the powerful and valuable gift God has given her as a woman - and how to use that gift for her own good and for God's glory.
How Does A Christian Think?
That's a critical question to our spiritual growth. Becoming more like Jesus means seeing life the way he sees it, and making decisions that reflect his values and goals. Any tools that are really effective at helping us do that are worth knowing about.
And so I want to pass on the launch of a brand new, very cool project on the web called The Chuck Colson Center For Christian Worldview. Colson has been teaching and writing on the subject of developing a thoroughly biblical view of life for decades now, and this site catalogs and archives almost everything he's done and makes it easily accessible to everyone for free. It also connects many like-minded Christian ministries together such as Summit Ministries and Focus on the Family's The Truth Project.
But that's just the beginning.
The site also has constantly fresh and updated articles and Bible studies from a variety of writers to help you grow spiritually:
- "Worldview" is a short devotional that helps readers learn to see the world we live in through the lens of a biblical worldview.
- "Ancient Paths" is a weekly Bible study guide that connects us to the wisdom of theologians throughout church history. You can subscribe to this one weekly for free.
- "Changepoint" is an column-length article designed to address many aspects of life in our fast-paced society, and provide practical insights on how Christians can live out their faith right now.
I am privileged to serve as one of the contributors to the Colson Center site, contributing to each of the three columns mentioned above on a monthly basis. Currently the site features a Worldview article I wrote based on an experience Amy and I once had growing grapes, and tying that to the lesson Jesus teaches us in John 15. Also, this week's Ancient Paths Bible study is one I put together on the deceptiveness of sin, following the insights of 17th century Puritan theologian John Owen. Feel free to check them out, and as always I welcome your feedback!
I'm told that a strong "get the word out" effort will commence in a week or two to let people know the site is now active, but you get advanced notice! Drop by the Colson Center and familiarize yourself with one of most promising, easy to use tools for Biblical worldview to come out yet.
Another Good Question - Prophecies of Doom
So what's up with the dour mood amongst theologically conservative Christians these days? Sure, circumstances could be better. Almost everyone is feeling the economy right now. Iran seems on the brink of building a nuke, and would be more than happy to point it at Israel or (better yet) Washington DC. And speaking of Washington, the president and his colleagues in the Cabinet and on the Hill have wasted little time turning this great ship of state hard to port. But still, despite all this and a hundred other things life throws at us to fret about, God is an awesome God, we're his unbelievably (and undeservedly) privileged kids, and our hope is secure in Christ!
Nonetheless, gloom seems to be chic right now. For example, take the recent well-publicized prophecy from pastor David Wilkerson (of Teen Challenge and The Cross And The Switchblade fame), in which he says the Holy Spirit has told him that there will be massive calamity in multiple American cities soon. Wilkerson's only advice: store up 30 days of emergency supplies.
I was recently asked for my opinion of this message, which I thought was another good question and worth posting here too. Basically, while I have a lot of respect for Wilkerson's history of ministering to people influenced by drug infested streets, my response boils down to two major issues: validity and focus
By validity I mean asking the question, is he right? Is his “word from the Holy Spirit” really a word from the Holy Spirit, or just a word from his own over-active imagination? Truth is, I have no idea, and no way of knowing for sure at this point. So I don’t really worry about it much, to be honest. There are always people who say “something catastrophic is going to happen soon” in the name of God. Usually they’re wrong. Sometimes catastrophic things do happen, but even then it’s not always clear to me that the event was the fulfillment of an individual person’s prophecy.
Now, I’m not saying his statement definitely didn't come from God – it might well have. I’m just saying that even if he has truly received a word from God, a) it’s hard to tell ahead of time, especially with the vagueness of his language, and b) it’s not at all clear to me what the purpose of this “word” is. In other words, even if he’s right and there’s going to be some huge calamity in American cities soon, so what? How does that change my life or my priorities as a Christian? What exactly am I supposed to do with this information, other than stock 30 days of emergency supplies (which is probably just good practice in case of emergencies anyway, even when there’s no prophecy)? All of which leads me to the other issue…
By focus I mean asking what is consuming our thinking; what are we focused on? Too many people today, in my opinion, who claim to have prophetic gifts talk so much about their prophecies that those prophecies are all their followers think about. They invest themselves in trying to figure out various prophecies (which might be words from God) instead of spending serious, disciplined time studying the Bible (which is undoubtedly a Word from God). In other words, they aren’t consumed with the things the pages of Scripture are consumed with, they’re consumed with the latest prophecy from a big-name Christian leader. This is a major problem in my view whether the prophecy is legitimate or not. We are to fill our hearts and minds with God’s truth as revealed in Scripture and brought to memory by the Holy Spirit.
So the bottom line for me is this: Wilkerson might be right and he might not be. I don't know. And I don't much care either way. Because regardless of what calamities do or don't come I know for a fact what I'm supposed to be doing with my life: building authentic biblical community, learning and becoming more like Jesus, and being a conduit of his grace and truth to everyone I meet.
And I'm 100% sure that's a word from the Holy Spirit.
Book Review - unChristian by Kinnaman & Lyons
This book summarizes and comments on some research the Barna organization recently did on a really interesting question: what does the younger, unchurched generation think about Christians and Christianity?
Now, why even ask that question? After all, serious Christians have generally been getting used to the idea that the broader American culture is becoming increasingly secularized. So perhaps one would fully expect that a survey such as this would turn up some negative impressions. Interestingly though, the researchers didn't find a predictable list of longstanding impressions. What they found is that many younger Americans (29 years of age and under) have developed sharply negative views of Christianity just in the past decade or so, and that this shift is too pronounced to ignore.
I first heard of this research project about 2 years ago while the book was still being written. Lyons, who initiated the project in the first place, shared some of the survey results with the 2006 Centurions class which I was part of. Even then the results caught my attention. In generations past most non-religious Americans would be likely to describe Christians using labels like "decent," "hard working," "honest" or "moral." For instance, in the case of a young applying for a job, coming from a devoutly religious family likely would be seen as a positive statement about his character and work ethic. The associations were generally positive.
No more. Now, the most popular labels were things like "judgmental," "anti-homosexual," "out of touch," and "too political." In fact, at least 7 of the top 10 labels were negative.
As a Christian, do those labels make you feel defensive? They did to me. I'll confess that my first thoughts were a bit reactionary. For example, in response to the judgmental label I thought "Of course we seem judgmental to this culture. After all most Americans are pretty strong relativists and Christians believe in absolute truth. But that's not the same as being judgmental - the culture is wrong about us." And so on for every negative impression. Well, I still think believing in truth isn't the same as being judgmental. But as I kept reading I discovered that that wasn't their issue. Many times people had good reasons for thinking Christians are judgmental... because sometimes we are.
[Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: "Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector...'" (Luke 18:9-11)
How often have I been one of those people to whom Jesus addressed this parable? Have I ever trusted in myself that I am righteous, and treated others with contempt? Sure, if I'm honest. And even when I succeed in not being such a person, the temptation is ever present.
The Bible instructs Jesus-followers to pay close attention to the way in which we interact with those outside the faith: "Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt..." (Colossians 4:5-6). You know salt: not enough and food is bleh... too much and you just killed a good meal. You have to pay close attention when you pour salt. So it is when a Christian pours the grace and truth of Jesus into the world around him.
I think this kind of introspection is a good thing. It's worth pausing at regular intervals in life and doing some self-evaluation with respect to how effective my demonstration of Jesus' grace and truth are. Are people ever offended by my Christian life? If not, I may not be following Jesus enough. But if they are, another question arises: are they offended because I'm like Jesus, or because I've allowed myself to become arrogant? The former is a divine calling. The latter is sin - sin the Bible warns us against.
I encourage Christian readers to pick up a copy of unChristian, and think through the balance between grace and truth in how we live our lives.
Following God's Lead - Part 5 of 5
Continued from my previous post... Time to wrap this discussion up!
As I drove home from the seminary that day, and in the weeks that followed, the trust issue came to the fore. There I was pursuing (what I thought was) God's plan for me, but it wasn't working out. Finally, (I'm not really sure exactly when) it dawned on me: having trusted God to tell me where to go, would I not trust him to tell me when and how to get there?
That question seems pretty easy to answer as I look back, but at the time it was a difficult one to answer. That difficulty was compounded by some well-meaning people who thought they knew for certain what I should do, and they made it clear that they disagreed with my choices. At such a time, resolve is needed: vague feelings of trust and fuzzy intentions will not hold up. At last, through a series of converations with family, friends and God, I gradually resolved to pursue a different course from my original plan, and follow wherever it led. In other words, I had to drive a stake in the ground, so to speak, and determine to do it God's way.
I take comfort in the fact that the Apostle Paul did much the same thing in Acts. There Luke records a seemingly insignificant detail when he notes that Paul got a haircut (Acts 18:18). The reason this detail made it into the Bible is that this haircut signified the completion of a Nazirite Vow (Numbers 6), which entailed letting one's hair grow long (among other things). Paul took this vow for the duration of his stay in Corinth. When Paul had arrived in that city he was depressed, lonely, and afraid (1 Corinthians 2:3). But having received a promise from God (Acts 18:9-10) that he would be protected in Corinth, Paul took this vow as a way of driving a stake in the ground, and committing himself to God's control.
I think there are times in the life of every Jesus follower where similar action is called for. To summarize this series of posts, the idea is that following God is less about getting him to bless what I'm doing, and more about getting me to do what he's blessing. At least three things follow: 1) aligning my life's goals with his stated goals, 2) making sure my plans are revisable, and 3) trusting him.
Yet all this requires a response from me. Finding God's will isn't so much a wild goose chase or the search for a proverbial needle in a haystack. Rather, it's more about choosing to release some control over my life, and relinquishing it to him. That requires me to periodically drive a stake in the ground and determine to let him have his way, even when it doesn't make sense to me, because I trust him.
Is it time for you to grow some long, Nazirite hair (so to speak)? To press on with something you know God wants even though you can't guarantee ahead of time what the outcome will be? Speaking for myself, the times that I have done so are by far the times I've grown the most as a person and as a Jesus-follower.
I chose to blog about following God's lead because I think it's a critical aspect of successful Christian living. But it's also not an easy thing to figure out. To that end it has been helpful for me to pound out some of my thinking in these posts, and I hope it's stirred up your thinking too. That said, while it can be discussed and described to a point, mostly I think it simply has to be done to be learned, much like playing the violin or riding a bike. Maybe it's time to simply step out and start the journey.
By the way, I notice Randy Alcorn has also just written some useful thoughts on finding God's will - he must be following my lead, which he usually does. He would never admit this to you if you asked him, of course, but at least you know the truth now.
Ha! ;)
Following God's Lead - Part 4 of 5
Continuing from my last post...
That’s what Paul and Silas discovered in Acts 16. They chose to “let God drive” by following his lead to Philippi when they hadn’t originally planned to go anywhere near the place. And what did they get for such faith, such awesome obedience?
They got the tar beat out of them. Literally. They were falsely accused, physically assaulted by the authorities, and unjustly imprisoned (verses 19-24). This was a heinous violation of both their rights and their dignity – a total breach of justice by an impassioned mob.
And please don’t skip ahead to the miraculous jail break! At the time their bruised, bloody carcasses and their wounded egos were summarily tossed into the pit they had no idea God was going to free them. At that moment all they knew was that following God’s lead had gotten them one thing: violated. Put yourself in their place. I can imagine the temptation to ask God “why!?” was overwhelming.
Now, my previously-related experience with revising my 5-year plan was obviously nowhere near that intense. But I can relate to the feeling that all I got from following God was a dead end.
One sunny day during the year I was out of school I had an errand at the seminary. I’ll never forget sitting in the parking lot that day and looking out my window across the lawn at Buermann Hall where most of the classes take place. I knew there were classes happening right then – classes I wanted to be in; should be in. But rather than starting a class and learning to parse Hebrew, I started the car and drove home.At those moments the temptation to seize control is strong. It’s difficult to refrain from saying, “OK God, I did it your way and look what it got me!” It’s hard not to seize the wheel again and relegate God to the back seat.
But Paul and Silas didn’t. They refused to get mad at God and question his goodness. Instead... they sang. SANG! In the midst of terrible pain and shame, and not knowing how or even if they would escape their circumstances, they found enough perspective to sing praises to God.
This is profound trust. Even when life gives me every reason not to, even when all sensible people take my view of things, and even when they tell me I’ve certainly lived through more than my fair share of suffering (how do they determine what my “fair share” is, I wonder…) -- even then I choose to continue to trust. That was the faith of Paul, and that was the most profound thing that hit me in this chapter of the Bible.
In my case I chose to keep following his lead, and looking back I can see how he has used it for great good. But that’s easier to say in retrospect than it was to do at the time. Sometimes those dark moments, when we don’t know how it’s going to turn out and our trust is put to the test -- those are the best times to drive a stake of commitment into the ground. That’s what Paul did soon after his experience in Philippi, which I’ll write about in my final post in this series.
What has helped you maintain trust in God in dark times?
Following God’s Lead - Part 3 of 5
Continuation from my last post...
The second idea that came out of my recent study of Acts 16 is that in order for me to “do what God is blessing,” my plans must be revisable. If I’m to successfully follow God’s lead I have to be willing to let him change my direction.
That’s certainly what Paul did on this second missionary journey. The place names in verses 6-10 can get a little bewildering (a map really helps me here), but the gist of what happened is this: they leave central Asia Minor (modern Turkey) and head for the west coast. But God says no, and that’s good enough for them. So they turn around and head for the north coast up by the Black Sea. But again God says no, and again that’s good enough for them. Finally, Paul receives a vision from God calling them to Macedonia (modern Greece). You guessed it: that’s good enough for them, and so off they go.
Reads pretty easy, doesn’t it? In fact that sounds pretty simple and perhaps even obvious at first. God redirected Paul a few times - great! What‘s the big deal? Well, it may read easy but in my experience it lives hard.
How revisable are my plans? I think we usually believe our plans are more revisable than they actually are. In fact it’s often not until he tries to redirect us that we discover just how tightly we‘re holding on to our own plans. That was my certainly my experience several years ago.
In my last post I related how God called me to a career in overseas missions. Pretty neat huh? Strong calling from God, all positive and nice, a great story. Well… not really, because that call isn’t the end of the story.
After my Budapest experience Amy and I got married and moved to Portland so I could attend Western Seminary. I arrived in the Pacific Northwest with a well-thought-out plan for getting through school and embarking on a missions career within 5 years. I had covered all the bases, and since I was following God’s call I was convinced that this plan was his, not mine... until it changed.
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Things started to not work out almost immediately after we moved. A series of unanticipated circumstances, over which we had very little control, threw up roadblocks at almost every turn. We began revising our 5-year plan, changing it twice a year on average, pushing it out to 6 years and then to 7. Eventually it no longer bore any resemblance at all to the plan I had first arrived in Portland with.
One of the casualties of these revisions was my schooling. I took a full load of classes my first semester of seminary, a half-load the second, and even less for my whole second year. Then by my third year of seminary (1996-97) I had to withdraw from school completely and begin working full time.
It’s difficult for me to describe how hard that was to swallow. I could handle other bumps in the road here and there, but school was different. You see, the whole reason we had come to Portland in the first place was to get me through seminary. Now there I was working a dead-end, low level secular job just to put food on the table, and not taking any classes at all. And I had no guarantee that I could resume classes the following year.
The “why” question was impossible to ignore. How could God let this happen? This was his idea - I was following his lead. Wasn’t I?
Was I?
I learned that year just how revisable my plans weren’t. It wasn’t until three years of prying at my fingers had finally made me let go of my 5-year plan that I realized just how tightly I had been holding on to it all along.
At that point I learned a valuable lesson about following God’s lead. It’s a lesson that gives me a whole new appreciation of Paul, Silas and Timothy’s willingness to let God revise the plan that made the most sense to them at the time. It’s a lesson that centers around a very important word: trust. And that lesson will be the subject of my next post on following God’s lead.
Following God's Lead - Part 2 of 5
I started this series of posts by describing the big idea that comes out in Acts 16: that following God is not about getting him to bless what I’m doing, but getting me to do what God is blessing. This idea is like an umbrella over this series of posts, and I got it from three observations in Acts 16. In the next three posts I want to relate those observations, which can help show what "getting me to do what God is blessing" looks like in real, everyday life.
The first idea is that "getting me to do what God is blessing" means that my goals must be his goals. I think it’s worth noting that the powerful leading Paul & his companions received from God in Acts 16:6-10 took place while they were serving as missionaries. In other words, every hour of their lives during this missionary journey was oriented toward the spread of the gospel. Now, I don’t think that means I have to be a missionary before I will experience God’s leading. But there is a lesson here, and I think that lesson is the more focused my life is on God’s goals, the more I can expect him to lead.
Many of us have experienced the truth of this first-hand. For example, I’ve listened to perhaps hundreds of people who have returned from short-term missions trips or service projects. The most common thing I hear them talk about is how much more aware of God’s leading they were during the trip than they normally are at home, and how much more they depended on that leading. This is usually followed by the person wondering out loud why they aren’t experiencing the same thing now that they’re home again.
Perhaps the reason is that in our "normal" life we’re not as focused on pursuing God’s agenda as we are when we're on a mission trip. When you’re on such a trip, everything is about doing ministry. You’re in a strange place where you often don’t know what to expect, and so any illusion of being in control goes out the window. Every waking moment is focused on serving, evangelizing, and building biblical community with teammates – sounds a lot like God’s agenda! I think that's why we're more aware of his leading: for those few weeks we’ve moved closer to the mainstream of what he wants from his followers all the time.
I can relate to this personally. In fact I’ve had two intense, earth-shaking, direction-altering encounters with God in my life - times when his leading was dramatic, and I followed it. The first took place in Budapest, Hungary during my senior year at Cal. I had prayed for years about what God wanted me to do with my life after college. Then I went on a 6-week mission trip in central Europe, which ended with a few days in Budapest at a hotel called the Citadella (pictured right). It was there while I was alone one night that God hit me almost physically and convinced me to pursue a career in ministry.
But this doesn't only happen on mission trips. My second such experience occurred in the family room of my old house in Fairview, Oregon. I had finished seminary, and for a few years I’d been praying about whether God wanted me to stay at the church where I was or move elsewhere. Then one morning, alone and quite unexpected, he again hit me as strongly as he had done 15 years earlier in Budapest, and impressed upon me that I was to move to the church where I now serve.
Both experiences were the culmination of years of asking big questions about what God wanted me to do with my life. In other words, at those times I was intensely seeking God’s goals in my life. Neither event happened during a ho-hum time of life where I was mostly doing my own thing.
Are my goals God’s goals? If we start aggressively pursuing that question, watch out: he may just rock our world. However if we stay safe in the simple life of "getting ahead" and being comfortable that American culture throws at us, we may never know what it’s like to have God show up powerfully. And we may never know what it’s like to move ahead with the conviction that he is in control of our course and destiny.
Have you ever had an experienced that caused you to be more aware of God’s leading than usual? What was different about that experience vs. your normal life?
Following God's Lead - Part 1 of 5
I apologize in advance for a slightly longer-than-normal post, but I want to tackle a pretty big question that I think we can all relate to.
I’m currently preaching through the book of Acts, and while preparing to teach from chapter 16 recently the text really hit me. I was struck by how prominent the Holy Spirit’s leading is in Luke’s narrative (especially verses 6-10), and how consciously Paul & his companions followed that lead. It caused me to ask the obvious question: do I follow his lead that deliberately? Am I even aware of how he may be leading me?
In that message I shared four ideas from Acts 16 that may be of some use as we seek to know his will for our lives. I want to restate those ideas here and in coming posts, share some of my personal experience with them, and invite you to think with me because I’m no master of how to follow the Holy Spirit! These ideas certainly don’t cover everything that could be said about this topic, but I hope they help some.
The first thing that hit me is that God seems to lead most prominently when we’re at the center of what he’s doing. After all Paul & the gang got these strong directions from God when they were on the road pursuing his stated goal of evangelizing the world, not while they were sitting back at Antioch sipping lemonade and pursuing their own dreams. The idea is that if I want to see God show up in my life powerfully, I need to move my life to where he’s powerfully showing up. Put another way, the Christian life isn’t about getting God to bless what I’m doing, it’s about getting me to do what God is blessing.
I picture a man on the shore of a powerful river flowing westward. The man wants to go south, so he drops his canoe on the riverbank facing southward, climbs in… and of course goes nowhere. Then he gets frustrated with the river for not taking him where he wants to go. At several points my life has looked rather like that silly man in the canoe! I’m heading in my own direction and wondering why God’s leading isn’t more easily discerned. The point is, if the man wants to feel the power of the river taking him somewhere he’s got to get into the center of the current – and let it sweep him away to wherever it will.
The applications of this idea are probably numerous, but here’s what occurred to me personally: Modern life hands us Americans a script which involves getting as good a job as one can, enjoying as much of life during the “working years” (by the way, where did that phrase come from?) as possible, and then “retiring” so one can enjoy life full time. Or some such thing. After reading Acts 16 I was haunted by two questions, one easy and one difficult. The easy question is: ‘does this script reflect God’s script?’ The answer, when one understands his redemptive plan, is clearly No.
The more difficult question, however, is ‘how thoroughly have I shaken off that American script and embraced God’s redemptive agenda?’ Honestly, the answer for me is… somewhat. I find as Tommy and Elizabeth grow my desire to provide everything for them does as well. That’s not all bad of course, but it does subtly pull me in the direction of earning, saving, and spending a lot on myself and my family instead of investing my time, energy, and money into God’s redemptive agenda.
I realize that if I’m not careful, I’ll raise two kids who are happy and healthy, but who don’t have a blasted clue how to live for Jesus in a meaningful way because they’ve never seen it modeled or experienced it first-hand. And beyond just my kids, I might be totally oblivious to other ministry opportunities along the way.
I’ll be transparent here: I’m not entirely comfortable with this line of thinking. But I’m trying to resist the desire to run from the haunting sensation. I don’t yet know what changes God might bring about in my life as a result. But if those changes amount to pushing my canoe further out into the main stream of where God himself is working, then I want to welcome them.
Honest question: How easy or difficult do you find it to move your life to where God is working? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences.
Another Good Question – Should We Still Obey the 10 Commandments?
Gerry Breshears, one of my theology professors from seminary, likes to word things in a way that initially shocks most Christians. He does this to get our attention and make us think deeper than we often do about Scriptural truths. The message he preached this past Sunday at Harvest from Acts 15 was no exception.
That message led a Harvest member to ask me a good question: do Christians still need to obey the Old Testament law? Since I know all Christians, including me, wrestle with similar questions, I'm posting it here as part of my series of posts titled Another Good Question.
I explained that one can think of 3 categories of the OT Law: the civil/criminal law (e.g. death
by stoning is required for murder), the ceremonial law (e.g. kosher dietary restrictions & animal sacrifices), and the moral law (e.g. the 10 Commandments). It is commonly understood that the first two categories of law have served their intended purpose and are no longer in force. But since the moral law reflects God’s character it is still a good guide for the behavior he wants from us today. So yes, “moral” laws like the 10 Commandments still reflect God’s standard.
But the story doesn’t end there, and I think I need to add to my initial response to my church friend. What was missing was the fact that while the content of God’s behavioral standards hasn’t changed, the way we interact with those standards has changed. And it has changed dramatically.
This change can best be described as changing from an external focus to an internal one. Or, changing from a behavior focus to a heart focus.
The whole force of the New Testament lays this out so it’s difficult to select just a few passages of Scripture to demonstrate this shift in focus. The whole Sermon on the Mount certainly comes to mind (Matthew 5-7), as does Jesus’ statement that the whole Law can be summed up in the single word “love” (God and neighbor). Paul shows the same understanding when he insists that we are free from the Law (such as in Galatians) but then he insists that we don’t run off into lives of sinful abandon (Romans 6:15-23; notice “from the heart” in verse 17). We could go on.
The point is this: the life God wants from us is not obedience to a list of do’s and don’ts. What he wants is your heart to be completely dedicated to the passionate pursuit of himself. In other words, we find that God's standards are still very much in force (licentiousness is ruled out), but those standards are not strict rules of obedience (legalism is also ruled out). How's that for a bit of intellectual tension?
So, while the 10 Commandments are still a great guideline for the character of a Jesus-follower, it is important to note that we don’t obey them as an external regulation that is forcibly changing our behavior. Rather, we joyfully conform our lives to that revealed standard out of a passionate desire to please and more accurately mimic our King.
Confession time: I think there’s a little legalist inside every Christian, and mine always becomes aroused when these discussions take place. How’s your little legalist doing? :)
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