Michael Kelley's Blog, page 11

3 Ways the Gospel Shapes our Definition of “Success”

How do you measure success?

All of us, I think, have some internal barometer by which we measure ourselves. And we apply that measure to all different kinds of activities. We apply it to everything from our career to our families to our relationships all the way down to our daily diet.

And of course we do. Because we all want to be successful, whatever that means in our particular version of it. But the problem with our version of success is the same problem we have with all of life – because of sin, this definition is misshapen. It’s warped and marred. It’s broken.

As a result of its brokenness, we need to feel successful in order to validate ourselves as people. We need that mark of achievement to make ourselves feel secure and worthwhile and, ultimately, lovable by others.

In other words, we fundamentally look to our definition of “success” to do that which can only truly and lastingly be accomplished in Jesus. But when we believe the gospel, when we become the children of God by faith alone and in Christ alone, we see our definition of success start to change.

How specifically does that happen? I’d suggest at least these three ways that, by God’s grace, I’m seeing in my own life:

1. Success is less about metrics and more about faithfulness.

If success was truly all about achieving some metric, then Jesus was an absolute failure. Abandoned by His friends, having failed to seize the momentum that was His, Jesus completely dropped the ball. But Jesus knew that success was ultimately measured in faithfulness to what God had called Him to do and be, and that’s precisely what He is and did.

In the same respect, there are all kinds of ways we might achieve some kind of metric. We might bend the financial rules in order to meet the required revenue at work, we might take advantage of others in order to climb the ladder, we might sacrifice our integrity on any number of altars to produce the right result. But the gospel reminds us that obedience to the will of God is what we are after.

2. Success is less about what you’re doing than who you’re becoming.

Apart from Christ, we will almost inevitably define success in terms of accomplishment. We have to keep getting promoted, we have to keep making more money, we have to keep moving up in the social circle. But the gospel steps onto this devastating treadmill and simply states, “Enough.”

When we believe the gospel, we come to understand that God is going to shape us into the image of Jesus. And to do that, He’s going to use any and everything at His disposal. One of the most effective tools He uses for this shaping is our failure. For it’s when we fail that we are pushed to remember again and again who we really are – that no matter whether or not we achieve some other measure of success, we are once and always children of God.

If God’s aim for us, then, is to be like Jesus, then the gospel helps us deal with failure by refocusing us not on what we are doing (or failing to do) but instead who God is making us to be.

3. Success is less about what you’re accomplishing than who you’re influencing.

We are people-users. This is one of the ways all our relationships are broken by sin. We will always default to looking at others as tools to be used for our own benefit our pleasure. And when we do that, we often find that people are a great stepping stone for our own goals.

But the gospel reshapes how we see others. No longer do we see them as tools of utility, but fellow image-bearers of God. We begin to understand that we cannot leave a wake of bodies in our pathway, no matter how much doing so might propel us toward some goal we have.

Consider today, friends, how you define success, no matter where you find yourself. Consider it, and then let the gospel speak through the power of the Holy Spirit. When we do that, we will stand apart from a world of people who are clamoring for their own piece of the pie.

Don’t Confuse NEW with BETTER

Ferris Bueller once very wisely said, ““Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

For perspective, Ferris said this in 1986. That was the year the very first laptop computer was unveiled. And where are we today?

Again, for perspective, although the internet was invented about 50 years ago, almost 90% of all the data in the world was produced in the last two years.

To put it mildly, we have a lot of NEW. And it’s not just that we have a lot of NEW; it’s that the pace of the NEW is steadily increasing. While you might argue that this kind of advancement is good in many spheres, making life easier and more efficient for almost everyone, I think you would also have to acknowledge that both the amount and the pace of “new” has its drawbacks.

Take the broad and complex subject of artificial intelligence. No one knows what to do with this “new” thing and all its capabilities, but here it is nevertheless. Perhaps this is a moment for everyone to step back and remember that in many arenas, ability is not necessarily the same thing as helpfulness. To put it another way, just because we can doesn’t mean we should.

And while that principle is applicable in the scientific and technologic arena, it’s also something that we, as Christians, should grapple with. Because all of us – Christian or not – tend to confuse that which is new with that which is better.

We tend to think that just because something is the newest thing off the line it means it’s obviously better than what’s old. That’s problematic for Christians because we are people of “old things.” Think about it:

What do we do every Sunday?

We gather to sing songs, many of which are old. And even the ones that aren’t are filled not with new discoveries but old revelations. Then we listen to a book that is old. We are told things we have heard before. And we do it over and over again. Not new – old.

And it’s beautiful.

We do this because we believe in something called the immutability of God. Which is to say, God never changes. He is the same. The rock. The eternal one. The same yesterday, today, and forever.

And because God never changes, His Word never changes. We don’t get new chapters. Addendums. Corollaries. Amendments. He has said what He has said, once and for all. Not new, but old.

And it’s beautiful.

In fact, perhaps now, at such a time as this, when everything is new, and the pace at which things become old is steadily increasing, what we need most is not the next new innovation or gimmick or piece of tech. Because, let’s be honest, the pace of newness is actually what’s getting old. It’s absolutely exhausting trying to keep up with it all. And what is the balm that heals that wound? What is the medicine for the frenetic mind and heart? What is the remedy for the ceaseless pace of what’s around us?

The same thing it’s always been. It’s the old, old story of a Savior who came from glory and gave His life on Calvary to save a wretch like me.

There’s real, actual good news today, friend – and that good news is old news. The best kind.

Watch Your Mouth, Christian!

Klingon is an actual language. That’s right—the war-loving, spear-toting villains of the Star Trek world have an official language of their own. And people speak it. In fact, you can even get a collegiate scholarship if you are familiar with the alien language.

Similarly, there are those people out there who write letters in Elvish, a language originating in The Lord of the Rings.

More common is the dialect spoken between those people who know something about cars. Enter into their conversation and you might hear stuff about carburetors and engine blocks.

Or maybe the language of couponers who talk about BOGO and rebates, informing one another who is selling Pampers wipes at a discounted rate this week.

Stick me in any of these situations and I’d be totally lost. Completely uncomfortable. Absolutely without anything to say. But if you were integrated in the sub-culture of Star Trek, The Lord of the Rings, mechanics, or thrifty shoppers, you would feel right at home.

Sub-cultures are like that. They have their own language, dress, and customs. And if you’re a part of that sub-culture you feel right at home. You, as a member, have integrated the speech, clothes, and food into your life and now you don’t even give it a second thought. You freely communicate in Klingon to those about you, not worrying too much about the unenlightened who haven’t bothered to pick up their own pronunciation guide. And sub-cultures are everywhere. Chances are you belong to at least one, even if you don’t realize it. You might be a member of the technology subculture. Or the home school subculture. Or the SEC football subculture.

Me? I’m a card-carrying member of the Christian subculture. It’s a subculture with our own rock stars, communicators, and authors. It’s filled with customs, dress, food, and especially language that are as unfamiliar as the cliffs of Mordor or the eating patterns of dwarfs to the common observer.

If a person walked into the church today, they might as well have stepped into a comic book convention, for they would likely find a group of people so entrenched into their own subculture that they don’t even think about what they’re saying, singing, or preaching any more. After all, everybody understands them; they’re seeking the same language.

Here’s the good thing about a subculture—it’s safe. It’s comfortable. It’s easy. It’s part of who you are. And inside the comfort of a subculture, you don’t really have to think a lot about what you’re saying or the meaning behind it. You just assume that everyone around you knows what it means to be “saved,” they know how to “repent,” and they know what it means to call God “holy.” So you just rattle on, firmly entrenched in the familiar.

But that’s also a reason why we, as Christians, should watch our mouths.

Now I’ve heard that command from my parents. I’ve said it to my own children. I’ve also heard it from the Apostle Paul:

“No foul language is to come from your mouth, but only what is good for building up someone in need, so that it gives grace to those who hear” (Eph. 4:29).

I’ve also heard it from Jesus:

“A good man produces good out of the good storeroom of his heart. An evil man produces evil out of the evil storeroom, for his mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart” (Luke 6:45).

Watch your mouth, Christian, because your mouth is a powerful tool for the glory of God. What’s more, your words are a clear revelation of your heart. So watch your mouth as a means of checking your own heart.

Most of the time, we think about these commands in terms of abusive or foul language, as well we should. These kind of words don’t have a place in the mouths of Christians. But I want to encourage you today to consider the command in light of the Christian sub-culture that you might be a part of.

Watching your mouth in this context doesn’t mean you don’t use the language of faith. It doesn’t mean you don’t talk about propitiation, or justification, or Martin Luther, or church councils, or whatever. It only means that as you say these things, you do so in an attitude of service to those around you. It means you don’t willy nilly throw out the biggest words you happened to have learned expecting everyone else to know what you’re talking about in your small group or Sunday school class. Instead, in an attitude of humility, you think before you speak, and you consider: Is the comment I am about to make going to help others, or is it going to make me look smarter?

That’s another way we watch our language. Christian, don’t worship at the idol of your own cleverness. Instead, consider that your speech is another way by which you can serve others well.

4 Reasons Why Money Lures Us Away from the Faith

The self storage unit industry is big business in the United States. The self storage business generates approximately $36 billion in revenue. There are somewhere around 49,000 units in the US which is more than the locations of Starbuck’s and McDonald’s combined. This business employs more than 170,000 people.

Maybe that’s surprising to you, but probably not – chances are you pass at least one of these business on a weekly or even daily basis. The reason there are so many is simple – we have more and more stuff. And we have more and more stuff because it is the nature of life to accumulate. As we grow older, we accumulate more and more furniture, knick-knacks, and, in most cases, money. 

The purpose of this post isn’t to debate the self-storage industry, though – it’s to talk about our habit of accumulation. Specifically, to talk about the accumulation of money. For while it might be the natural order of things to have more and more money as you progress through life, that also means there is a greater and greater danger to our souls as we get older. Because money is dangerous. Not necessarily bad in and of itself, but dangerous nonetheless. Read the warning Paul wrote to Timothy in this regard:

But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out. If we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. But those who want to be rich fall into temptation, a trap, and many foolish and harmful desires, which plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and by craving it, some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs (1 Tim. 6:6-10).

It’s that last line that should make us especially cautious – that the love of money is a lure that has caused, and will cause, many to wander away from the faith. 

But why? Why does money have the potential to make us wander from the faith? Here are four reasons for you to consider:

1. Money creates residents rather than pilgrims.

When we come into Christ, we are made new. Brand new. With new tastes, new desires, a new family, and a new home. We are, so says the New Testament, pilgrims on this world – temporary residents with a sure and certain citizenship in another kingdom. The more money we have, though, the more comfortably we live. And the more comfortably we live in this word, the less we will long for and seek the next one. The more we establish our lifestyles here the less we will invest in the other one. Beware, Christian, for money makes us all very comfortable. Money makes us forget our true and lasting home.

2. Money enhances our need of self-protection.

Here’s another reason why money lures us from the faith – it’s because when you have more, you become more invested in protecting what you have. You spend an increased amount of resources, energy, and emotion devoted to making sure you keep what you’ve obtained. You therefore become less willing to sacrifice and take risks for the sake of the gospel and the kingdom. Money, whether we want to admit it or not, dramatically alters our priorities over the course of time.

3. Money provides competing avenues for satisfaction.

Money means, among other things, access. Access to entertainment, access to luxury, access to all kinds of things. And the more access we have to things, the more we will tend to find our satisfaction in those things. This is another way money can lure us from the faith – we suddenly have all kinds of avenues to pursue pleasure and satisfaction that weren’t available to us previously. We can begin to wander from the faith when, over the course of time, we are finding our joy and satisfaction in avenues other than Jesus.

4. Money bolsters our self-sufficiency.

Here’s one other reason why money can be such a tempting lure – it’s because the more money we have, the safer we tend to feel. And that sense of security is very, very appealing. But the security we are meant to find as Christians shouldn’t be in our bank account or our 401K’s – at least not ultimately. It should be in Christ and in Him alone. The more money we have the more we tend to look to those resources for that security, and in that, we become ever more self-sufficient instead of reliant on Jesus. We trick ourselves into believing the lie of our own press rather than remembering our abject need of Jesus.

Friends, we will accumulate. More and more. But let’s be careful as we do. Let’s be aware of the lure in our path lest our focus start to lead us from the faith.

4 Things to Tell Yourself When Anxiety is Overwhelming

What is your morning routine?

Coffee? Toast? Gym? Reading the news? Probably some combination of those things if you’re like most people.

But aside from what you do, what is the spirit in which you do it? That is, do you wake up feeling like the day is full of opportunities, or do you wake up feeling something different? Perhaps, as has been the case with my during many seasons, you wake up assuming that something catastrophic or life-changing has happened while I’ve been sleeping. During seasons like that it feels like, at least for me, an endless waiting game except not knowing exactly what I am waiting for. But something.

If you resonate with that, then you know what it feels like to have a general sense of anxiety. It’s an undercurrent that is constantly running in the background. You wonder if this day is going to be the day; you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop whether professionally, relationally, medically, financially, or in some other arena of life.

It’s not a good way to live. And indeed, not a good way for a Christian to live. But if you are living there, it seems to me that you can either be a victim of that anxiety, or you can take a stand against it. If you or I were to take a stand against being victimized by our own anxiety, the best way to do this is to speak to your soul. But you don’t speak with platitudes, like Be positive! or The best is yet to come! That stuff is better reserved for posters with kitty cats on them. It doesn’t matter a lick in a world of violence, anger, and retribution.

No, we have something better to say to yourselves than these things. And here are four such examples of what to say to your soul when you are feeling anxious:

1. My Father already knows what I need.

This is gloriously true. Jesus told us this in a broader message about prayer, specifically how the prayers of His followers should differ than the prayers of those who do not know God. Those people babble on, trusting in their quantity of prayers, but it should not be like that with us. Why? Because we have a Heavenly Father who already knows what we need before we ask it.

The anxious heart – my heart – can come to God knowing that all the cards are already on the table. I will not say one single thing to Him that He doesn’t already know and hasn’t already made provision for whether in my personal life or in the world at large.

2. I am worth more than many sparrows.

Jesus expressed terrifying realities in Matthew 10. If there were ever things to be anxious over, you can certainly find them from the words of Jesus in this passage. He spoke of days that were coming when brother would turn against brother, and children would put their own parents to death. In fact, those who follow Jesus would be, according to Jesus Himself, hated because of His name, because this is how they treated Him. Then comes the surprising command:

“Do not be afraid of them.” And why not? Why not be afraid of times like these? It’s because we can be confident that God sees and knows exactly what is going on. In fact, Jesus said in these same verses that so great is the Father’s reach that not even a sparrow falls to the ground with His consent. And then we get this simple but anxiety-destroying truth:

“You are worth more than many sparrows” (Matt. 10:31).

He takes care of them. He will also, in His wisdom, take care of us.

3. My Father knows the difference between a fish and a snake.

In yet another passage regarding prayer, Jesus was teaching about the importance of perseverance and consistency in prayer. Keep seeking. Keep knocking. Keep trusting. God will provide what you need. Jesus’ reasoning is simple – He encourages His followers to think about their earthly fathers. What dad, Jesus reasoned, would give his son a snake if his son was asking for a fish? Such a thing would be unimaginably cruel. No father would do it – even the bad ones.

Our anxiety is tempered by remembering that we have a Father who gives good gifts. But what about this scenario – what if a father had a son who was asking for a snake? Would the father give it to him? Surely not – not if the father knew such a gift would be detrimental to the well-being of his son.

Praise the Lord that we have a Father who, though we might ask for a snake because we are convinced it’s a fish, knows the difference between the two. We have a Father who provides what is good and right – not what we think is good and right.

4. The Good Shepherd has a mighty strong grip.

In John 10, Jesus helps us see that He is the Good Shepherd. Like any shepherd, He protects and provides for His sheep. But what makes Him the Good Shepherd – indeed the Best Shepherd – is that He lays down His life for His sheep. But then Jesus goes further – He says that His sheep know Him. They recognize Him. They hear His voice and they follow Him. And once those sheep are following Him, no one can snatch them out of His hand.

Many might try. Affliction, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword – they all try to snatch them away. But the Good Shepherd has a might strong grip. And this is ultimately the death knell for anxiety – it’s not convincing yourself that any of these things won’t happen to you, because they all might. That’s kind of the point. That despite these things, nothing in all creation can separate us from the white knuckle grip of our Good Shepherd.

These are some of the things you say to your soul when you are afflicted with anxiety. And with each one, you are not placing your hope in some pie-in-the-sky platitude. Instead, you are beating back those worries with a greater truth than your circumstances – that of the love, care, and power of Jesus Christ.

On the Worst Day of Your Life, Jesus Has Been Praying for You

“I tell you, Peter,” He said, “the rooster will not crow today until you deny three times that You know Me” (Luke 22:34).

The words must have hung in the air for a moment, pointed and powerful. The disciples had just been arguing, to the last man, about who was to be the greatest in Jesus’ kingdom, and with Peter no doubt in the middle of the fray, Jesus’ words cut to the heart.

For Peter, the suggestion at that moment was laughable:

“Lord,” he told Him, “I’m ready to go with You both to prison and to death!”

Peter suffered from the same delusion that plagues us all from time to time – that we are above it all. That we are above such an outright and blatant example of sin. That we are above succumbing. That our faith, and our will, is strong. But Jesus knows better.

Peter was oblivious to the fact that he was embarking on what was to be no doubt one of the worst, if not the worst, day of his life. How many times in the years after would he look back on Jesus’ words and wonder how he could have been so arrogant? How many times would he replay the moment by the fire when all his will gave way underneath the weight of a little girl’s questioning? How many times would he remember the bitter tears he wept as Jesus was led away to His death in the shadow of His friend’s blatant denial?

But how could he have known? In that moment, Peter felt strong. He felt confident. He was, in his own mind, invincible.

But Jesus knew better. He still knows better.

Every morning we wake up and for the most part are completely oblivious to what the day holds. Rarely do we think about the fact that in only minutes or hours our world could change with a single word:

Cancer.

Downsize.

Bankrupt.

Unfaithful.

Betrayal.

Those are the kinds of things that await. And we, like Peter, are gloriously confident in our own faith and will. We are, in our minds, invincible to the lure of sin and the brokenness of the world. But we, like Peter, can take heart in the fact that while we don’t know what the day holds, Jesus does. And, amazingly, He’s been up long before we swing our legs out of bed… praying for us:

“Simon, Simon, look out! Satan has asked to sift you like wheat. But I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And you, when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31).

Let that sink in for a moment. Feel the weight of the grace. On the worst day of his life, when Peter had no idea how far he was about to fall, Jesus had been praying for him.

When we woke up some 16 years ago on a morning in October, my wife and I had no idea that we would end the day sleeping in Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital. We had no clue that our world was to be flip-flopped. We had no idea that the cancer inside our 2-year-old’s body was about to be discovered.

We didn’t know. We were blissfully ignorant. But thankfully, Jesus was not. He knew. And He was praying for us.

Take heart, Christian, not because you know what to expect from life today. You most certainly do not. But Jesus does. And if today is indeed the worst day of your life, know that Jesus has been praying for you.

2 Things to Remember if You Find Yourself Disappointed

Imagine this scenario with me:

You are a parent, and your child comes to you asking for some gift. Maybe a video game. Or a new pair of shoes. Or tickets to a concert. There is nothing sinister or underhanded about the request – your child is making it in good faith. In their mind, there is no reason why they shouldn’t have this thing. In fact, there are multiple good reasons why they should.

And you love your child. In fact, you love them more than they will ever know, at least until they have a child of their own. Because you love them, you really enjoy giving them things. You love how their eyes light up; you love their joy when they receive them; you love the pride they feel when they get to put that gift to good use.

But you choose not to grant your child’s request. Why not?

Well, there are really only two broad reasons why you might deny them what they are asking for, and both of them stem from the fact that you know some things your child does not know. The first reason you might say no is because even though in the mind of your child there are many good reasons why having that “thing” is a good idea, you know some reasons why it is not. Perhaps you are looking down the road of materialism and consumerism and you want to proactively help your child avoid it. Or maybe you’ve read some reviews about whatever that thing is and it’s actually not as great as your child thinks it is. Or maybe you had something like that when you were a kid and it ended up being destructive for you in some way.

That’s the first reason why you might say no – it’s because unbeknownst to them, you are saving them “from” something they can’t see.

The second reason you might say no is not because you are saving them “from” something; it’s because you are saving them “for” something. Perhaps you’ve already bought them a different gift, one that they don’t see coming because it’s better than what they’re asking for. Or maybe by not getting this thing for them it allows you to provide them with an experience that is far better than a tangible present. Whatever the substitute, it’s better, and even though your kid thinks they have the absolute best thing in mind, you know they are being short-sighted.

So you say no. You say no either because you are saving them FROM something, or because you are saving them FOR something.

And perhaps the same principle holds true in our own disappointment when it comes to God. Because we, like our own children, can become convinced that whatever is in front of us is “the” thing – it’s “the” relationship. Or “the” job. Or “the” opportunity. So we ask and ask and ask, and whatever it is doesn’t work out.

What can we conclude?

Well, in the midst of forming that conclusion, we should fall back on what we know to be true:

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matt. 7:7-11).

We know God is a good Father. We know He loves us. And we know He is knowledgeable enough to know what those good gifts are. In light of those things, then perhaps we can say the same thing in the midst of our own disappointment. Here are the two things to remember if you find yourself in such a situation:

1. Either God is saving us FROM something…

Or…

2. He is saving us FOR something.

In either case, despite what we might think, He is doing the right thing. And the best thing for us.

So Heavenly Minded that You’re No Earthly Good

Johnny Cash sang it in the song, “No Earthly Good”:

“You’re shinin’ your light, and shine it you should, / But you’re so heavenly minded you’re no earthly good.”

He wasn’t the first one, of course. This has long been a criticism of Christians, one you’ve probably heard before. It’s a criticism about impact; it’s about relevance. It’s also about being present, and exercising compassion.

And it’s also incredibly ironic.

It’s ironic because of the hundreds of verses in Scripture that direct Christians to be all about earthly good. To care for the widow. To protect the orphan. To leave room for the foreigner. To care for the sick and the one in prison. These are the practical implications of believing the gospel, of being a Christian. And thus the reason why the criticism is ironic.

But just because it’s ironic doesn’t mean it’s not true. There have surely always been Christians who have practiced an easy kind of discipleship, believing that the gospel is exclusively about their eternal destination with no implications for their present situation. And if that’s what you believe, then there really is no reason for you to be of any earthly good.

But if you understand the gospel to not only change where you’re going but who you’re becoming, and if you understand that the finished work of Jesus compels us to continual work among the people of the world, then being heavenly minded ought to have the opposite effect. That is to say, those who are the most heavenly-minded are the most earthly good.

Why might that be? Here are a few reasons to consider:

1. Being heavenly-minded helps you embrace your calling.

Jesus was pretty clear in this regard:

“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:13-16).

In this context, what do salt and light have in common? It’s that they are both meant to be used. For flavor. For sight. For enhancements. For making things more clear. When we believe the gospel, we are meant to serve this same role.

2. Being heavenly-minded helps you see the need.

Before we believed the gospel, we were blind to the desperate nature of our condition:

The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God (2 Cor. 4:4).

Apart from God’s intervention, we would never have known how empty, lost, and dead we were in sin. But now our eyes have been opened. And now we can not only see the goodness of Jesus; looking back, we can see the truly desperate need. We are compelled, then, to be of earthly good in light of that need.

3. Being heavenly-minded helps you turn loose.

When we are heavenly-minded, we are fee to store up treasures in heaven. Conversely, we are also free to turn loose of all the earthly things we might hold onto. And when our hands are open, it means we can be more generous with those resources. We are no longer trusting in our money, our resources, our earthly goods for our security; we have something better. And now those things can be put to work for the sake of the kingdom.

No earthly good? Not the Christian who is truly heavenly-minded. That Christian embraces their calling, sees the true need, and then is turned loose.

Christians Should Work – and Rest – Like No One Else

Christians ought to work like no one else. We should be the most diligent; the most attentive; the most dependable. Organizations ought to love it when Christians work for them because they know that these are the people they can count on to work hard and work well.

That’s not because Christians are more intelligent or industrious or stronger or anything else – it’s because Christians work for a different reason than just to earn a paycheck. A.W. Tozer reminded us that “it is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular. It is why he does it.” The sacredness of the opportunity is not about the work itself, but about our perspective of why we work at all.

See, there is something more going on here than just going to the office. Work is part of God’s plan for humanity, not just as a means for providing for ourselves and our families, but for providing for the common good of His creation. Ordinary people like you and me are the sovereignly designed means by which God is caring for the people of the earth. He has ordained that we, as human beings, exist in a state of interdependence on each other. That doesn’t mean God has isolated Himself from the world; it simply means that God is providentially using the talents, opportunities, and regular old jobs of regular old people to provide and care for humanity. Knowing that, the Christian works like no one else:

Whatever you do, do it from the heart, as something done for the Lord and not for people, knowing that you will receive the reward of an inheritance from the Lord. You serve the Lord Christ (Col. 3:23-24).

But the Christian also rests like no one else.

The practice of taking a day of rest and dedicating it to the Lord was first practiced by God on the seventh day of creation, and then codified by His very hand when He etched out the Ten Commandments:

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy: You are to labor six days and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. You must not do any work—you, your son or daughter, your male or female servant, your livestock, or the resident alien who is within your city gates. For the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and everything in them in six days; then he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and declared it holy (Ex. 20:8-11).

Simple enough, right? But it’s important for us to realize that for the Christian, the Sabbath isn’t just a day of rest, but a condition we enter into:

Therefore, a Sabbath rest remains for God’s people. For the person who has entered His rest has rested from his own works, just as God did from His. Let us then make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall into the same pattern of disobedience (Heb. 4:9-11).

The kind of rest described here isn’t so much an isolated instance but a state of being that’s lived inside of. The day we take of rest, then, becomes a reminder of the state of rest we can enter into because of Jesus.

We live in a culture of achievement. Of self-validation. Of constant efforts to prove your own worthiness to anyone who happens to be looking. But when you rest – really rest – you aren’t producing anything. You aren’t validating anything. You are instead finding your source of validation, identity, and worth in something other than what you produce. Instead, we know that true rest only comes from trusting and living in the finished work of Christ on our behalf. In this, as with so many other things, we stand apart from our culture – we rest.

Christians work hard. And Christians rest hard.

What do these things have in common? The answer is faith. To work hard, we have to believe our work is unto the Lord. And to rest hard, we have to believe that God has and will continue to provide everything we need.

So whether you find yourself on a day of work or a day of rest, do so in faith. And do each one like no one else.

Why the Angels Call, “Holy Holy Holy”

“Holy cow.”
“Holy smokes.”
“Holy moley.”

That’s the context most of us are most familiar with for the word “holy.” The three expressions above are pretty tame, but “holy” certainly has some more offensive stuff following it in its cultural expressions. In our world at large, people have taken on the characteristic expression of Robin, Batman’s companion, in the TV serials: “Holy fate worse than death, Batman!”

In the church, we fare a little better. As Christ-followers, the word “holy” comes to mind pretty readily when we think about God, and it should. Holiness is a good place to start when considering just who God is.

If you take a look at Isaiah 6, you find that beginning to understand holiness is the beginning of learning about God. “Holy” is the cry that even now is ringing in the heavens to describe God. That’s what Isaiah encountered as he was taken up in a vision and saw the Lord:

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne, and His robe filled the temple. Seraphim were standing above Him; each one has six wings: with two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another:

‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts; His glory fills the whole earth’” (Isaiah 6:1-3).

Can you imagine the scene? Let’s not miss the significance that Isaiah “saw the Lord.” That, in and of itself, is pretty amazing, since Isaiah and his people firmly believed it was impossible to see the Lord and live. Even Moses, who we would have to acknowledge was a guy on pretty intimate terms with God, only saw the backside of the Lord as He passed by. But here was Isaiah, taken into the very throne room, face to face with the Almighty.

And the creatures attending to God in the throne room had a very distinct call. Their words echoed through the halls of eternity, “Holy, holy, holy.”

They said it three times, and in so doing, they weren’t just trying to write the first words of the hymn that we still sing in churches today. In Hebrew, the number three is significant for it bears the connotation of completeness. Of wholeness. The number three signifies that which is real and perfect; three is the number of the divine.

The Trinity exists in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. When God appeared to Abraham in Genesis 18, He did so as three strangers. There are three parts to the classic divine blessing of Numbers 6. “Three” means important; it means complete.

By calling God “holy” three times, the seraphim were pointing to the absolutely essential and foundational nature of God’s holiness. They didn’t chant “loving, loving, loving” or even “glorious, glorious, glorious.” They opted for holy, and therefore we must recognize that to understand a bit of who God is we must start here with this characteristic.

To be “holy” is to be separate. Other. Apart. When we describe God as holy, the word sums up everything that makes God who He is and sets Him apart from us. Furthermore, because this is more than just a characteristic of God but rather a summation of all His characteristics, His holiness filters down into everything else we say about Him.

His love is a holy love. His justice is a holy justice. His wrath is a holy wrath. God’s holiness reminds us that God is completely and perfectly pure, without spot or blemish. That’s part of what John got at when He described God as light with no darkness in Him at all. He’s not partly light just as He’s not partly holy. God is wholly “other” than we are.

This is why the angels, even now, are calling, “Holy, holy, holy.” It is to remind us, in part, just who it is that we’re dealing with.

Is it possible that, in an over-churched, over-marketed, and over-saturated Christian subculture that we have become too familiar with the holy? Are we too comfortable with things we were never meant to be comfortable with?

Because of His essential quality of separateness, God cannot tolerate sin (Habakkuk 1:13). To do so would tarnish the very essence of His being. We would do well to consider how we approach the presence of the Lord. Let’s be careful and take heed of the advice found in Ecclesiastes 5:1-2:

“Guard your step when you go to the house of God. Better to draw near in obedience than to offer the sacrifice as fools do, for they are ignorant and do wrong. Do not be hasty to speak, and do not be impulsive to make a speech before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.”