I just read 2 newsletters from friends that are missionaries in China. One works in Beijing, the other in a remote part of western China. But both had a similar theme: they're committed to something they can't see.
One friend recounted how a person he is working with quoted Rom. 1:17 to him: "The righteous will live by faith." This from a person who's given up job, status, material possessions and even his freedom (he's been thrown in prison) so that he can spread the Good News that Jesus offers freedom and abundant life.
I was talking with Larry yesterday and he gave me a term: "recreational Christian". It really challenged me: am I a Christian because it's a fun thing to do with my time? Or am I committed to something that I can't see completely right now but that I know is real because of the revelation of God in His Word, because of the testimony of God's Spirit within me, and because of the glimpses of the Kingdom that break through in so many different ways around me if I'd just open my eyes? Those are the evidences that Christians in China are staking their lives on. And God is asking the same of me.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
confession
My doctor had a copy of Catholic Digest in her waiting room. I noticed an article titled, "My hardest Lent."
Yeah, Lent is approaching fast. Easter is early this year, March 23. So Lent starts in a couple weeks on February 6. It's barely giving me time to catch my breath from Advent and Christmas.
The world loves Christmas, picturing the Nativity scene as a cute baby Jesus surrounded by cute animals in an idyllic stable (the real thing was far from idyllic and I'm sure the cuteness quotient was minimized by the smell). But Lent and Easter celebrate the reason for the Nativity: God became man to identify with our human existence, to suffer and die for our sins, and then conquer sin and death in the Resurrection. We Christians identify with Jesus by remembering his 40 day fast in the 40 days (minus Sundays) of Lent. Fasting is a part of Lent for many, a way of focusing attention on our inner life and relationship to God by trying to remove something that distracts us from God or that hinders our spiritual formation.
So the writer of the article describes her hardest Lenten exercise. It wasn't giving up chocolate or caffeine, but carrying around a coffee can into which she placed a quarter every time she uttered an unkind word to someone. The painful part wasn't the $47 she ended up giving to a favorite charity, but having to carry a heavy (and noisy) can full of quarters that announced to the world, "Here comes an unkind woman."
I know that I would rather not wear my flaws outwardly. When asked what my shortcomings are, I'm like the Democratic candidates who answered in the recent debate, "I'm too impatient for change," or some other back-handed compliment. It's hard to own up to my sin.
Not that we should make a habit of announcing our flaws to the world as if we were on a Dr. Phil set. But we won't find healing and forgiveness until we put James 5:16 into practice with a small group or prayer partner or spiritual friend: "Confess your sins to one another and pray for each other so that you may be healed."
I haven't yet decided what my Lenten exercise will be this year. But that article challenged me to have a hard but good Lent.
Yeah, Lent is approaching fast. Easter is early this year, March 23. So Lent starts in a couple weeks on February 6. It's barely giving me time to catch my breath from Advent and Christmas.
The world loves Christmas, picturing the Nativity scene as a cute baby Jesus surrounded by cute animals in an idyllic stable (the real thing was far from idyllic and I'm sure the cuteness quotient was minimized by the smell). But Lent and Easter celebrate the reason for the Nativity: God became man to identify with our human existence, to suffer and die for our sins, and then conquer sin and death in the Resurrection. We Christians identify with Jesus by remembering his 40 day fast in the 40 days (minus Sundays) of Lent. Fasting is a part of Lent for many, a way of focusing attention on our inner life and relationship to God by trying to remove something that distracts us from God or that hinders our spiritual formation.
So the writer of the article describes her hardest Lenten exercise. It wasn't giving up chocolate or caffeine, but carrying around a coffee can into which she placed a quarter every time she uttered an unkind word to someone. The painful part wasn't the $47 she ended up giving to a favorite charity, but having to carry a heavy (and noisy) can full of quarters that announced to the world, "Here comes an unkind woman."
I know that I would rather not wear my flaws outwardly. When asked what my shortcomings are, I'm like the Democratic candidates who answered in the recent debate, "I'm too impatient for change," or some other back-handed compliment. It's hard to own up to my sin.
Not that we should make a habit of announcing our flaws to the world as if we were on a Dr. Phil set. But we won't find healing and forgiveness until we put James 5:16 into practice with a small group or prayer partner or spiritual friend: "Confess your sins to one another and pray for each other so that you may be healed."
I haven't yet decided what my Lenten exercise will be this year. But that article challenged me to have a hard but good Lent.
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