Michael Kelley's Blog, page 38

We All Need a Spiritual Copernican Revolution

Nicolaus Copernicus was born in Thorn, Poland on February 19, 1473 as the son of a wealthy merchant. He studied law and medicine at the universities of Bologna, Padua, and it was while he was there that his interest in astronomy was stimulated. He lived in the home of a mathematics professor who influenced him to question the astronomy beliefs of the day.

At that time, the predominant theory had been in place for over a thousand years, since the days of Ptolomy. In that theory, the earth was the center of the universe and was motionless with all other heavenly bodies revolving around it. And though all of his observations of the skies were made with the naked eye, Copernicus disagreed. Sometime between 1507 and 1515 he began to firs circulate a different theory, this one with the sun at the center and the earth moving around it.

Copernicus did not live to see the reaction to his assertions, but he probably would not have been surprised at them. The reactions were, of course, angry. Though there were many purported reasons for the anger, if we look a little deeper perhaps we would find that at least part of the root of that anger was the idea that the earth – filled with human beings – was actually not the center of the universe.

Keep that in mind as we turn to another moment, this one actually happening several centuries earlier. This moment was not set in scientific laboratories and the study of the stars, but instead on the dusty road between Jerusalem and Emmaus:

Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him (Luke 24:13-16).

These two men, despite claiming to have a good working knowledge of everything that had happened in Jerusalem, were really missing the entire point. But not only were they missing the point of those recent events; they were missing the bigger and more majestic point at hand. This second point is actually the point of everything – a point that would call on them to have a radical reorientation of what’s really at the center of everything:

He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself (Luke 24:25-27).

These men stand in our place, for many of us have found ourselves on the road to Emmaus. We have been around the events in Jerusalem, have a working knowledge of them, and even think we have a good understanding of their meaning. And yet we still walk along unaware of the true center of things.

The reorientation that happened for these men, and the one that, at some point, ought to happen to all of us, is just as paradigm shifting as that which happened in the 16th century. It is a spiritual Copernican revolution that happens as God opens our eyes to the truth that we, though we are beloved by God, are actually not the central characters of history. The world does not revolve around us and our stories and our circumstances and our issues, much as we might think it does. It revolves around Jesus.

Jesus is the center of the law. Jesus is the center of the prophets. Jesus is the center of everything:

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together (Col. 1:15-17).

Now when we are first confronted with this reorientation, it can be a little concerning. Maybe even angering. It might cause us to have all kinds of questions and perhaps even doubts. And yet it is true, and walking that road of truth is the only way we can embrace a whole-hearted, selfless, servant-minded mission for the sake of God’s kingdom. Until we recognize the centrality of Jesus in all things, we will harbor the illusion that we can serve both God and ourselves, only giving a portion of who we are and what we have to Him. But when this revolution takes place, we come to see that the only logical posture we can have before Him around whom everything finds its orbit and being, is that of servant.

This is the pathway of joyful submission; this is the road of happy acknowledgment of the greatness of Jesus. It is by recognizing and accepting the truth that you and I are not the center. He is. And He is gloriously so.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. Come, He Needs Nothing From You

God requires much of us, but needs nothing from us. Knowing the difference helps us embrace His invitation to come.

2. Don’t Disciple People Into Fragmented Faith

True discipleship captivates the whole person.

3. The Moments That Matter

Perhaps trying to anticipate and capture the moments that matter is futile, because often we don’t know which moments matter most.

4. The Museum Scene in Ferris Bueller

So I have always found this scene in the movie to be curious, but this article helps explain the deeper meaning behind it.

Christians Are Fruit-Growers

There were almost blueberries in my backyard this morning.

For weeks now, I’ve watched the pair of bushes we planted years ago. I’ve seen then start to bud, then get a little bigger each day, and now finally the fruit has appeared. And it’s almost ripe. And then will come a couple of weeks of harvesting through the summer in which we will have fresh blueberries every morning.

Thing is, though, I didn’t do a whole lot to make this happen. Several years ago, I bought two little plants, dug two holes, and then waited, only occasionally throwing a little water. Over the course of time, those bushes have grown and now we are reaping the rewards (if the birds don’t get there first).

I think about those bushes in our backyard when I read verses like Galatians 5:22-23:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

There are definitely some points of similarity here. For example, the reason why there are blueberries in my backyard is because that’s the kind of bushes we planted there. It would be unrealistic for me to expect those blueberry bushes to produce oranges because that’s not the kind of plant they are. In other words…

The fruit reveals the root.

The same thing is true for the Christian, and this is one of the reasons why these characteristics are called “fruit” in the first place. It’s because the manifestation of these qualities, in ever-increasing measure, is the result of our “root” being changed. We have been born again in Christ, and with the new heart He has given to us, the fruit that comes from that experience is qualities like those in Galatians 5.

But is that all there is to it? Is it like the bushes in our yard, that all I really have to do is sit back and wait for them to do what they will naturally do? If that were true, then it would mean that the Christian life is passive in nature – that if we do nothing at all, then because we have been changed by Jesus, we will naturally produce love and joy and peace and the rest of these things.

This is where the backyard analogy breaks down, and the reason why it does is because of all the other environmental factors. For example, the soil where we live is naturally rich. What’s more, we have a fenced in backyard and raised garden beds. In addition to that, we have a dog that loves to chase any kind of critter that might venture close to the plants growing in the corner of our yard.

Taken together, that means our family has a pretty friendly environment for raising blueberries. 

And that’s where things really start to diverge, because the environment for spiritual fruit is anything but accommodating.

Yes, we have been born again, but we still have the inclinations of the flesh inside of us. There are daily temptations from the world and hourly pulls toward fear, anxiety, and despondency. That means the Christian, in order to be a fruit-grower, must be hard at work. But we aren’t working hard to produce the fruit any more than a bush works hard to produce berries. 

We are working to create an environment that is conducive for the Holy Spirit to do what only He can do.

This is what fruit-growing looks like for the Christian – it is the process where, by faith, we create an environment of growth by taking an active role in what comes in our minds, our hearts, and our souls. And in so doing, we trust that the Holy Spirit will produce the fruit in our lives.

–

This post originally appeared at thinke.org.

3 Reasons to Be Careful of What You Say Today

There have been two different occasions this week when my wife and I have had to remind each other to watch what we say. In each occasion, we were asking each other for wisdom on how to respond to a particular situation, and we repeated the same phrase in response to one another:

“Don’t say anything you will have to apologize for later.”

I think there’s wisdom in that. And surely that’s a pretty good reason on its own to be careful with your words. It’s because there is no edit button on our conversations. Words are the bell that can’t be unrung. You can try and walk things back, you can try and explain yourself, you can even try to justify the words you said, but in the end, it’s just there. That comment. That remark. That tone. It’s there. Always. And you don’t want to be embarrassed later by what you said in the moment.

But there are other reasons beyond avoiding embarrassment to watch what we say. Deeper reasons. And perhaps even more important ones. Here are three of them:

1. Because our words reflect our hearts.

A friend recently told me that what’s down in the well comes up in the bucket. When we find ourselves spouting off in anger or gossip or slander it’s not because we were just caught up in the moment; it’s because that’s what’s down in our hearts. We are only showing off what’s been down in there the whole time:

“How can you speak good things when you are evil? For the mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart. A good man produces good things from his storeroom of good, and an evil man produces evil things from his storeroom of evil” (Matthew 12:34-35).

2. Because our words are more powerful than we realize.

The second reason we should be careful with our words is because rarely do we grasp just how much power they have:

“ 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).

Our words are like water. Water is the stuff of life, but water is also incredibly destructive. Just like water, our words are incredibly powerful to either destroy, or to build up, especially to those we claim to love. When we are dealing with something that powerful, we would be very wise to be careful.

3. Because our words authenticate our faith.

The Book of James is one of the most direct books in the entire Bible. In a mushy kind of world where there are increasingly blurred lines on everything, it’s refreshing to find a text of such absolutes. Refreshing, if not at least a little disconcerting:

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless (James 1:26).

What validates the reality of our faith? Of our religion? According to James, it’s whether or not we have a tight rein on our words. It’s whether we are in control or not of what we say. So if we find ourselves constantly unable to hold back or direct our words, then we indeed have something to fear.

So watch what you say today, friends. Be careful with your words. Be careful with your words because of what they mean about you, your faith, and what they can do to others.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. Loving with a Limp

Yes, sometimes the Lord inflicts temporary pain for a greater healing.

2. Time

Our most precious resource. But that truth is both humbling and liberating at the same time.

3. On Penguins and Christian Unity

How do penguins survive such a devastating climate? They do so together. So must we.

4. A Psychologist Profiles Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Bahahaha! Yeah… he’s got some issues. Spoiler alert here if you haven’t seen the new movie.

Daddy Swim Lessons and the God Who Won’t Let Go

Nothing will separate us from the love of God in Christ. This is a promise given to believers in Jesus – that come what may, whether it be danger or need or suffering or whatever – that none of those things will separate us from God’s love. So wrote the Apostle Paul in the glorious 8th chapter of the book of Romans:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;
    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:35-39).

It’s important to note that the reality that’s threaded throughout these verses. The reason the love of God was in question for these early believers is because everything in this list was actually a threat to them. There were real dangers. Real affliction. Real persecution. Real swords. And the promise here is not that God would take away any or all these threats, but that no matter how many the believer might face, none of them would cause a rift in the love of God in Christ. The promise, then, does not fuel some pie-in-the-sky notion that God’s love means a lack of difficulty, but instead fuels our resolve to believe deeply in this love when the difficulty happens.

The promise reminds us that God’s love cannot be measured by our circumstances. It is measured by the demonstration of that love at the cross.

How wonderful to consider that our place in God’s family is not determined by our grip on God, but instead by His grip on us. It is His love, His strength, His grace that keeps us. It is not our own. A little illustration here to help.

There has always been a right of pilgrimage in the Kelley house. That’s because at our local YMCA, there is a strict rule about when kids can be in the swimming pool by themselves. In order to gain that cherished right of independence, each child has to pass a YMCA administered swim test. They have to swim the length of a pool, without assistance, doing a proper freestyle stroke. And once the complete that challenge, they are gifted with the coveted green armband – their badge of honor and courage to say to every onlooker that yes, they can indeed swim. Or at least swim well enough.

So each of our children, to gear up for this monumental feat of strength and endurance, went through the rigorous training program of “Daddy Swim Lessons.” Now to be clear, I’m not a great swimmer. Or even a good swimmer. But I think I could pass the YMCA swim test, and I know enough to float on my back without panicking if I get tired. So for a season, I took each of the three kids to the pool on Saturday mornings to learn a few of the basics. They worked hard and they all got that coveted armband. But I got something, too.

Every summer, I had bruises on my neck.

You put a child in the water and they cling to you. HARD. They cling with a violent intensity because they are convinced, in that moment, that their strength is really what’s keeping them from drowning.

But us daddy’s have a secret – it’s not their strength keeping the kids afloat. It’s ours. The reason they aren’t going to drown is because we won’t let them.

But then there’s the wonderful moment when they realize that their dad’s grip is stronger than theirs. You can almost see the freedom flicker into their eyes. They suddenly come to the understanding, in a childlike way, that their perseverance – their safety – isn’t dependent on their ability to hold on. Their arms are child’s arms. They get tired. But their father’s arms are far stronger. And even when they let go because of exhaustion, their father is not going to let them go.

See, I’m their father. And I love them. And praise be to God, that there is a greater Father with greater strength that holds His children more securely than I can fathom.

3 Things to Watch Out For in a Season of Waiting

The older I get, the more convinced I become that life is about seasons. It’s not that you can define a “season” strictly by days or years either, as if there is a “season” of being in your 20’s or 30’s. It’s more ambiguous than that.

For example, there was a newly married season. That was a lean season financially, and yet it was super happy as well. That was the kind of season in which we were coming to understand not only what it meant to live with and love another person, but also how to operate as real, actual adults in the world.

There was a season when we had small children. And during that season, life seemed to have a busy but very joyful and exciting pace to it. The kids were constantly discovering new things and trying out new activities, and with each new thing we as parents had a correspondingly new experience.

So where are we now? I guess it’s sort of, kind of, a middle aged season. Maybe. “Middle” feels like the right word because there’s not many things that are brand new, and yet we aren’t the wisened sages that we are going to become (maybe). As we relate to other people in a similar season, it also feels like there is a restlessness in these times. Not some kind of mid-life crisis, but just a sense that there is something “else.” It’s sitting on the edge of having kids move out, of putting in a couple of decades at work, and just generally wondering if there is something else out there. Strangely, I think many of us in this season have a sense of “waiting” about it – of feeling like there is something else for the family, for the career, for the service, but not knowing exactly what that is. But with this sense of waiting comes some specific dangers that might not be as acute in other seasons of life. What are those dangers? What are the things to watch out for in a season of waiting? Here are three:

1. Jealousy.

Not everyone is “between” things. Good things are happening to those around us all the time. And if you find yourself in a season of waiting, it’s very easy to become jealous of those who seems to be moving forward into something new and different. When we become jealous, we have forgotten just who it is that changes times and seasons, and just who it is that has placed us in the season we are in:

“Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever;
    wisdom and power are his.
He changes times and seasons;
    he deposes kings and raises up others.
He gives wisdom to the wise
    and knowledge to the discerning.
He reveals deep and hidden things;
    he knows what lies in darkness,
    and light dwells with him.(Daniel 2:20-22).

2. Entitlement.

A cousin of jealousy, a second thing to watch out for during a season of waiting is the sense of entitlement. It’s not only being jealous of something happening to someone else; it’s feeling like that “thing” should rightly be happening to you. You have worked hard. You have made good choices. You have earned this, or at least you have to a greater degree than someone else. You look around at your circumstances, and the quiet but insisting thought nags at you: I’m better than this.

We would do well, then, when we start to hear that voice to replace it with another one:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him” (Lam. 3:22-24).

3. Self-promotion.

As a season of waiting continues on, we start to feel the tug on ourselves to make something happen. To manufacture opportunities. To take matters into our own hands. And yet time and time again, we see in the Bible the ruin of those who take that approach – of those who, due to lack of faith, insist on self-promotion. 

The truth is we have someone better to promote us. We have someone better to advocate for us. We have someone better who is on our side. We don’t need us, because we have One better than us:

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? (Rom. 8:31-32).

If you’re there today, friends, in that season of waiting, and if you’ve been there for a while, take note of these things. Watch for them. Identify them. And then root them out of your soul and replace them with the steadfast trust in the Lord that helps us to continue to wait.

Don’t Just Be a “Doer”; Be a “Be-er”

I can cook some things. This is a skill I have learned over the last 25 or so years, and frankly, it’s been hard fought with lost of mistakes. My wife can tell you about the early days of our marriage when I thought margarine was the same thing as vegetable oil and produced a pretty slimy pot of mac and cheese. My kids can tell you about the time I confused baking powder with baking soda and made a gnarly batch of gritty pancakes. And the list goes on.

But now? Well, now I can cook a few things. But even now when I cook things, I do so while looking at a recipe. And I follow it. Religiously. And that’s one of the differences between me, and someone who is a much more accomplished chef.

A chef might glance at a recipe, but they also have a feel for ingredients. A palette honed to know what spice is needed and at what quantity. A feel for temperature and a knack for combining textures. They know this not only because they have practiced and focused for much longer than I have; they also know this because they probably have more natural talent than I do.

In other words, there is a difference between someone who can cook and someone who is a chef. There is a difference between someone who can do, and someone who is.

And this is an important thing to keep in mind when we come to a well known passage like Acts 1:8. Here is a passage, along with the Great Commission in Matthew 28, that has set the trajectory of the Christian witness and missionary enterprise for 2,000 years. Acts 1:8 is also a kind of summary statement of the Book of Acts as a whole, as we see the early church expanding in concentric circles from Jerusalem, to Judea, then to Samaria, and then to the ends of the known world. But let’s for a moment consider not only what Jesus did command these early disciples to do; let’s consider what he didn’t tell them to do:

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

So what didn’t Jesus tell them to do? Technically, He didn’t tell them to do anything. He told them to be something.

He didn’t tell them to witness; He told them to be His witnesses.

Now you might argue that this is splitting hairs, because after all, the result is the same, right? That whether they witness or whether they are His witnesses, they are still meant to share the gospel both far and wide. True enough. And yet recognizing this difference helps us understand not only the weight of Jesus’ command, but also the true depth of what has happened to us in the gospel.

See, when we believe the gospel, it’s not just that our trajectory is changed, although it is. We were headed to hell, and now we are headed to heaven. But something deeper has happened. Our very identity has been changed. We are new people, born again as a new self. We aren’t just going somewhere different; we are someone different.

And our behavior flows from that identity. As a Christian, choosing the way of godliness and holiness isn’t just the right thing to do; it’s the thing that is consistent with our new identity. In that regard, the moments when we are walking most closely with the Lord, most surrendered to the Holy Spirit? Those are the moments when we are also acting most like our true selves. That’s a very different thing than Jesus ordering us to behave like someone we are not.

So here, in Acts 1, we don’t just find Jesus issuing a command to be followed regardless of whether we like it or not; we find a reminder that we are new people. Of a new kingdom. With a new identity. And as such, the act of witnessing is entirely consistent with who we’ve become.

Witnesses bear witness. It’s what they do because that’s who they are.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. The 10 Minutes After Church Ends

This is a good and healthy challenge for me. I need to grow in my intentionality in this area.

2. Lemons and Thorns

If God is for us, then He is for us. Even when lemons turn to thorns.

3. How to Wait Patiently for the Lord’s Return

Very simple and straightforward article here, right from the Bible which tells us how to wait in anticipation, but to do so with patience.

4. Batting Practice in “Field of Dreams” Was Real

You might have heard that Ray Liotta died recently. Here’s a neat story from Kevin Costner about a scene the two had in “Field of Dreams.”

3 Reasons Why Trust Leads to Blessing

Trust leads to blessing.

Those four words might feel like a loaded statement, and part of the reason why they might is because of how we tend to think about “blessing.” When we hear that single word, we might think exclusively in tangible terms – that to be “blessed” means to be healthy, wealthy, and free of trouble. And if we are currently living in a season in which those things are true, then yes, we should thank God for the peaceful and prosperous circumstances. At the same time, we should also recognize that such times really are a season, and seasons change.

There will be a time when we are not healthy. Or wealthy. Or free of trouble. In fact, there will be seasons when the opposite of that is true. And that’s when this definition of blessing really starts to fall apart. If we face a painful disease, does it mean we are not blessed? If we find ourselves in the midst of difficult and troubling relationships, has God’s blessing departed? If we find ourselves struggling financially despite our best efforts, does that mean our blessing is gone?

Being “blessed” cannot, then, just be about our temporary circumstances; it must extend beyond those things. It must be bigger than those things. More lasting.

If we can grasp that bigger definition of blessing, then we can start to see the truth of those four words – that trust leads to blessing. There’s a particular passage that helps us see not only the link between trust and blessing, but also grow in our understanding of what it means to be blessed in the first place. This is what the prophet Jeremiah says:

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit” (Jer. 17:7-8). 

Notice first of all the subtle difference in the idea of blessing presented here and the idea of circumstantial prosperity we often think of. In the analogy, the person trusting in the Lord is likened to a tree. And in that metaphor, it’s not that the tree doesn’t experience heat or even a year of drought; it’s that this tree is able to continue on and thrive even in the midst of challenging seasons like that. Similarly, if we are blessed, it’s not that we won’t experience the heat of trouble or the drought of a lack of resources; it’s that we are able to persevere and even thrive in joy even when those things come. So let’s expand on that passage, and find three reasons why trust leads to this truer and greater kind of blessing:

1. Because trust counters anxiety.

The text tells us that for the person who trusts, there is a comparative lack of anxiety and worry. That’s because the person trusting in the Lord is able to step back from the circumstances of the day and refocus on a God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Moreover, the person of trust can recenter on the truth that God sovereignly and mysteriously bends the arc of history, in both big and small ways, to the reign of Jesus and the cause of righteousness and justice. That person is able to know that there is consequence for sin; that evil will not triumph; that there will be an accounting. And therefore, such a person can live with a general sense of peace. That is indeed a blessing.

2. Because trust brings productivity.

Not only that, but the person who trusts can be assured of productivity, and that, too, is a blessing. We were made to work. When God created Adam, the first thing He did was give the first human being a job (Gen. 2:15). It’s in our DNA to work; to produce; to live in the image of God who is busy creating. Part of a fulfilling life, then, is to actually be productive for the cause of the kingdom and the overall good of the world God has created. When we trust in the Lord, we can know that the work we do, though it might not have immediate results, is actually making a difference. We will not fail to bear fruit.

3. Because trust brings about stability.

Blessing is about peace and productivity, but it’s also about stability. This is what we see from the tree in Jeremiah 17. This is no weak-trunked sapling, but a mighty tree with deep roots that does not get pushed back and forth by the winds of the day. There is a sturdiness to the one who trusts in the Lord. Yes, that person experiences all the chaos in the environment the same as everyone else, but despite that chaos, the person of faith is able to be firm. Planted. Rooted deep so that they are a stable source of strength, even for those around them.

This is a better picture of what it means to be blessed. It’s a person who is peaceful. Who is productive. Who is stable. This is a person of faith.