Michael Kelley's Blog, page 55

Wednesday Links

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

1. The Priority of Prayer

Great reminder here – we actually do have time to pray if prayer is a priority for us.

2. Crisis

Great, simple, straightforward walk through of Psalm 116.

3. Distracting Ourselves to Death

So many distractions in our lives from sun up to sun down. The internal struggle is real, and near constant.

4. LeVar Burton Hosted Jeopardy

For my money, I think he’s a keeper in this role.

 

Getting Old is Not Bad News for the Christian

I recently went to a yearly checkup, and the doc (who looked to be about 16, in my estimation) was explaining to me the results of my blood work, blood pressure, weight, and the rest of it, led her explanation with these words: “When you reach a certain age…”

I knew what she was saying. Blood work aside, I’ve got an ache in my left leg, and I don’t know exactly how it got there. But it’s there, and even when I’m typing these words, it’s kind of throbbing down my side. Stuff like this happens to me from time to time; it’s not a big deal, but it does happen, and it reminds me that I am indeed aging. We all are. The law of entropy which tells us that natural processes only run in one direction – that is in a degrading direction – is applicable to our physical bodies. We are deteriorating creatures.

And yet for the Christian, there is a glorious paradox that comes in aging – one that causes a great measure of joy when you could feel an increasingly measure of sorrow that you cannot do the things that you were once able to do. Here is how Paul would frame this paradox:

Therefore we do not give up. Even though our outer person is being destroyed, our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary light affliction is producing for us an absolutely incomparable eternal weight of glory. So we do not focus on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal (2 Cor. 4:16-18).

There’s no pulling punches here, but rather an embracing of two simultaneous realities for the Christian.

The first reality is that of aging. That our outer person, our physical bodies, are on the downhill. They are degrading, and all the aches, pains, lapses of memory, and whatever else come along with that degrading. Oh sure – here in North America, and particularly in affluent suburbia, we do all kinds of things to try and postpone or deny this is true. We might nip, we might tuck, we might style, and we might hide, but the truth is there staring us in the face.

It is as Paul would say just a few verses earlier – we are jars of clay. Frail, fragile, and falling apart day by day.

This truth (and it is a truth) might lead us to depression. After all, the good doctor I mentioned earlier in this post did tell me that an adult will gain roughly two pounds of body weight per year even if their exercise and their diet remains constant. So you have to adjust either your diet or your exercise to account for two extra pounds if you just want to maintain your weight. We might, then, want to throw in the towel and acknowledge that we are fighting a losing battle and live out the rest of our days in a depressed state.

And perhaps we should do that, especially if the physical is the only thing that matters to us.

But that brings us to the second reality Paul described in these verses. That is, that even though our outer person is being destroyed, our inner person is being renewed day by day.

In other words, the inner life of the Christian breaks the universal law of entropy. While everything physical is in a constant state of decay, our inner selves are reversing the trend. Because of God’s mercies that are new every morning, and because we are His children, we are growing in our inner selves younger – growing to look more and more like the true children of God even while our outer selves are growing older. Such is the grand and glorious paradox of Christian aging.

What does that mean for us? It means that as Christians, we do not have to chase the ever-elusive promise of youth. We do not have to fix our eyes on the vanity of the physical. It means that we can still steward our bodies, but we can not have our entire self-worth and value rest on them. And it means we can rejoice even while the shoulders start to ache and the inevitable weight gain sets in.

We can do so, that is, if we do not focus on what is seen in the mirror, but what is unseen. If we fix our eyes on Jesus who not only began our faith but is perfecting it in us. If we believe that we are growing younger even as we are growing older.

4 Reasons Why Entitlement is Destructive for the Christian

Asaph, the writer of Psalm 73, had a near fall:

Surely God is good to Israel,
    to those who are pure in heart.

But as for me, my feet had almost slipped;
    I had nearly lost my foothold (Psalm 73:1-2).

Of course, the fall here was metaphorical. He was on the edge of despair. The edge of anxiety. The edge of unbelief. And the thing that pushed him to the edge was an issue of allocation. Asaph was not struggling with the age old question of why do bad things happen to good people; he was struggling with the question of why good things seem to happen to bad people. But more so, he was struggling with the issue of entitlement:

For I envied the arrogant
    when I saw the prosperity of the wicked (Psalm 73:3).

It wasn’t just a hypothetical question of why the wicked seem to prosper; rather, it was the sense that he, in his righteous and clean living, wasn’t getting what others were. And surely we can relate to that.

Surely we, too, look around at times and start to play the comparison. Surely we also wonder why someone who is less holy, less righteous, less upstanding than we are seem to be getting the blessings that we feel are rightfully ours. We know what it feels like to be entitled. But do we know the true destructive nature of entitlement? Perhaps not. Here, then, are four reasons why entitlement is so destructive:

1. Entitlement is a denial of the truth.

At a base level, we don’t actually want what we deserve. And if we claim to want what we deserve, what we are really betraying about ourselves is that we have failed to fully grasp the true nature of sin and the human heart. Because what we really deserve – each and everyone of us – is hell. This is the payment we deserve for our sin – for our offenses against a holy God. Thank God that we don’t get what we deserve! Living with a sense of entitlement, then, is living outside of the light of this truth. And once we begin to deny that truth – once we begin to convince ourselves that we were not actually dead in our sins and transgressions, that we were actually not alienated and separated from God, that we were actually not helpless and in need of rescue, then a multitude of other false ways of thinking follow.

2. Entitlement is destructive is that it robs us of gratitude.

Gratitude ought to be a way of life for us as a Christian. We are not the people who occasionally say “thank you,” but we are the people who rejoice in the Lord always! Again I say, rejoice! When you live in a posture of gratitude, you are also living in a posture of humility because gratitude is a recognition that we are constantly on the receiving end. This is, in fact, one of the ways we can actually and actively pursue humility – it’s through the choice to be grateful because we are forcing ourselves to remember the opposite of what entitlement tells us – that we are receiving something because of the grace and generosity of someone else. When we live with a sense of entitlement, it is impossible for us to also live with a sense of gratitude because we are always expecting more.

3. Entitlement destroys our relationships.

Paul would later write a list of commands in Romans 12, one of which reads like this: Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. But for a person of entitlement, those are two very hard things to do. It’s very hard to rejoice with someone when you are comparing what you have to what they have because inevitably you will drift into the belief that you ought to have what they do. Similarly, one can’t weep alongside others when they are filled with entitlement because the entitled person sits in judgment over those who suffer, judging them because of the choices they think led the person to the situation they are in.

4. Entitlement is destructive because it ultimately puts us in the place of God.

When we look at the way portions are being dealt out and sit in judgment over it, what we are really doing – although it might be subtle – is calling into question the wisdom of God. We are saying, with our attitudes, that we know much better how these portions should be allocated. We are, in other words, more wise, more fair, and more equitable than God Himself.

In light of those things, no wonder Asaph the psalmist said his foot had almost slipped. No wonder he saw the precipice opening up before him. And yet, by God’s grace, he was able to move back from the edge. So what was the solution to this issue?

It was not that he made more money. Or got nicer things. Or even that he saw the wicked around him robbed of all the health and prosperity that he had. The solution only came when the psalmist entered God’s sanctuary. And what did he find as he drew near to God? He found a God bigger than himself. A God bigger than his understanding. He found eternity. Eternity was the way he was able to reckon with the seemingly unjust blessing and prosperity of the wicked, for eternity waits for us all and judgment with it. When you accept eternity as a reality, you begin to place lesser and lesser importance on what is happening in the actual here and now. So in light of eternity, he saw that there is indeed a reckoning for the wicked.

But he also found something else, and the something else is what truly banished his sense of entitlement – and ours. He found that the Lord is our portion:

Whom have I in heaven but you?
    And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart
    and my portion forever (Psalm 73:25-26).

Entitlement is banished when the Lord is your portion. Consider, for a moment, just how exhausting it is to live with that sense of entitlement. You are constantly evaluating others. You are always dissatisfied with who and what you have. You long, incessantly, for more. Your relationships are strained to the point of breaking. Indeed, it is nearly impossible for you to enjoy any part of life because you are on the treadmill of chasing the ever elusive “else.” Until, that is, you realize what Christ has bought for you at the cross.

Has he bought for you money? Power? Material blessings? No – none of that – none of those things that moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal. He has bought for us something better – He has bought for us God Himself as our portion. And with that, with God as our portion, we can rest. Not because we have learned to settle for what little we have, but because in light of eternity, we realize there is nothing else.

3 Things Our Compulsion to Respond Reveals About Us

We have an increased opportunity to run our mouths more than any other generation.

That’s because we can effectively run our mouths not only with our actual mouths, but with our devices as well. We have at our fingertips the ability to broadcast our deepest thoughts, most profound opinions, and hottest takes more easily than ever before. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why we are such a loud people – it’s because we have the opportunity to be loud.

You know the feeling as well as I do. There is someone who brings something to us – it’s an accusation, it’s a criticism, it’s a rebuke – it’s a whatever. Someone does something or says something or insinuates something and we, in return, feel a compulsion inside of us. It’s a burning down deep in our guts. We. Must. Respond. And usually when that responds comes, it’s part and parcel with what has just been dealt to us. If it was anger, we respond in anger. If criticism, we respond with criticism of our own. If accusation, we respond with defensiveness. Whatever the case, we respond.

Into this fray steps the word of God which has a lot to say about how we should respond. Or rather, it has a lot to say about how we should not respond. Here is just a sampling:

The prudent keep their knowledge to themselves, but a fool’s heart blurts out folly (Prov. 12:23).The fruit of that righteousness will be peace; its effect will be quietness and confidence forever (Isaiah 32:17).My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires (James 1:19-20).

The list could go on, but in summary, the Bible urges us to keep a tight reign on our tongues. To not feel the compulsion to respond. To operate in the confidence of faith that is exhibited in an ability to listen and to carefully speak without falling into anger.

We know this intellectually, but there is yet still that same old compulsion to say, or write, or tweet something. To respond. What might that compulsion reveal about our hearts? Let me suggest at least three things:

1. An inflated view of ourselves.

We seem to think everyone everywhere is waiting to hear what we think about a given topic. But it’s not just that – it’s that we think our particular voice must be heard. Now, to be sure, there are some times – many times even – that we can and should add our voice to a particular issue or topic. But there is a thin but important line between adding our voice to an issue and assuming that others are waiting on bated breath to know how we will respond. Even as we do add a response, then, we must be careful to do so with a sober estimation of who we are.

2. A deflated view of others.

Just as our compulsion to respond reveals an inflated view of ourselves, it can also reveal a deflated view of others. We read or hear someone saying something – anything – and immediately the comparison game starts in our mind. If he or she said so and so, then surely we also ought to respond with so and so. Especially since that he or she is, in our minds, of lesser esteem, intelligence, or importance than we are. Further, the internal dialogue might go, who is he or she after all to be making such statements? Someone (read, “I”) ought to put him or her in her place. And that doesn’t even broach the subject that perhaps we might have something to learn from the person who is speaking or writing. In any case, we feel compelled to respond because we have a diminished view of the person we are reacting to.

3. A low view of God’s providence.

Throughout the Bible, we see a similar number of exhortations to “wait” as we do to keep a hold on our tongues. In fact, in many places these two exhortations are linked together. So clearly choosing not to respond is, in some way, an act of faith. It’s a choice to believe that we don’t have to respond to everything because God will respond in the right way at the right time. We can, in faith, wait on the Lord rather than feeling like we have to take matters into our own hands.

And in the end, isn’t that what this compulsion to respond is really all about? It’s about feeling like we have to present our opinion? That we have to advocate for ourselves? That if we don’t stand up for what we think we know then no one will? If that’s the case, then before we speak or tweet or hit send then perhaps we ought to examine our own faith barometer. Perhaps we ought to ask ourselves how confident we are in the wisdom, justice, and advocacy of God at all? Maybe that is what has begun to wane, and that’s why we feel we absolutely, positively, without a doubt respond, and respond immediately.

Wednesday Links

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

1. Sin is Like a Snowball

It never remains small, but instead grows and gathers momentum as it rolls downhill. Be aware, Christian.

2. A Spirituality of Quitting

Sometimes you need to stay in it, whatever “it” is. But other times, quitting is an act of discipleship.

3. No Family is Too Busy for Church

Like much of life, being a parent is about making choices. Let’s make sure we are making the right ones.

4. Meet the Christian Olympians

I love roundups like this. Take a look at these great athletes who are also Christians.

3 Promises You Woke Up to This Morning

Here we are again, friends. It’s Monday morning, and time to start it all over again.

What do Mondays feel like for you? Is there a sense of excitement and possibility as you face down another week? Did you spring out of bed five minutes before the alarm went off because you couldn’t wait to get started? Were you waiting all weekend long for this very moment to open up before you?

Or did you feel something else?

Likely something else. And if you are feeling that “something else”, then Monday presents a different kind of opportunity for you. A spiritual opportunity. A soul opportunity. It’s an opportunity to remind yourself of some of the promises of God that are true no matter what season, circumstance, difficulty, frustration, or anxiety you might find yourself in. So what are those promises? There are, of course, many, but here are three specific ones for you to consider this Monday morning:

1. God’s mercies are new.

Because of the Lord’s faithful love
we do not perish,
for his mercies never end.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness! (Lam. 3:22-23).

What a beautiful reminder this is – that no matter what yesterday held, God has new mercies for you this morning. And if the night you came from was filled with anxiety, fear, and trepidation, the rising of the sun holds the promise of those new mercies. This morning – this Monday morning – the rising sun marked the dispelling of darkness, and with that, it was the daily reminder that despite our sin and rebellion, God did it once again today. His mercies were renewed.

2. Your bread will be ready.

“Give us this day our daily bread” (Matt. 6:11).

This is how Jesus taught us to pray, in faith, trusting that our Father would provide again today our daily needs. Now you probably woke up with some kind of idea of what your day would hold. You probably knew generally what meetings, what conversations, what to-do list, and a few other things that your day will hold. You know some things, but not all things. Your day will hold surprises. But you can nevertheless trust that the Lord has been baking for you. The bread will be ready, though you don’t know specifically what “kind” of bread it will be. But the Lord does. And we together will not be hungry for His provision.

3. You are not alone.

“Be strong and courageous; don’t be terrified or afraid of them. For the Lord your God is the one who will go with you; he will not leave you or abandon you” (Deut. 31:6).

You can know this Monday morning that the Lord is with you. If you are a Christian, God has made His dwelling in you through the presence of the Holy Spirit, and so His presence with you is an objective reality. The question today is not, in fact, whether God will be with you; it’s really a question of how aware you will be of His presence with you. But even more than His presence, God has promised us, as His children, His advocacy. He is not only with us, He is for us. That, of course, does not mean that God is standing ready to bring to pass all our desires, but rather that He is for our ultimate good. So we can be confident today that no matter how challenging the hours are ahead, God is working to bring about His work in and through us that we might be made more like Jesus and help others to do the same.

So here we are, friends. Monday morning. And we are armed on this Monday morning with some great, great promises. We can move confidently today with the full knowledge of God’s mercies, God’s provision, and God’s presence. Let us go forth, then, into the good works He has planned for us.

The Beautiful Question the Gospel Compels Us to Ask

“Is there anyone else left?”

It seems like a simple question, doesn’t it? You and I might ask it when we’re leaving a building and it’s our job to turn out the lights, so we turn back at the door and shout out, “Anyone left in here?” Then, when no answer comes, we shut it down, lock the door, and head home. When we ask the question, it’s really done in a spirit of checking things off the list. We’ve done our duty, stayed until the end of this or that thing, and now we want to be done. But before we are, we’ve got to make sure there’s no one left. In fact, if indeed there was a shout back from that room we are closing up, we would respond by telling the person that they don’t have to go home, but they can’t stay here. Because we want to be done. Over. Locked up and closed down.

But when David asked the question in 2 Samuel 9, he did so with an entirely different attitude. Here was the once neglected shepherd boy who, against all rational thought, had risen to power through a series of amazing and relationships and military conquests. But to say it like that might make it seem like the road had been easy for David – that he just sort of sat back and let the providence of God wash over Him. And it wasn’t like that at all. He had fought, and he had fought hard. He had battled military enemies as well as those who were supposed to be his allies but had turned on him in fits of jealous rage. In fact, when he did finally rise to power as a general, he had spent years in exile from the very homeland God had chosen for him to rule, chased day and night by a madman bent on his destruction. Then, before his throne was secure, he had to keep fighting in order to bring order from the chaos left in the wake of the previous regime.

It was an incredibly long road. But now? Now he had the throne. Now he had the power. Now all the promises that had been only words before were actually becoming reality. And that’s what makes the question so surprising:

“Is there anyone remaining from Saul’s family I can show kindness to because of Jonathan?” (2 Samuel 9:1).

Tough to imagine what the reaction in the room might have been when those words came out of the new king’s mouth. Seriously? From the family of Saul? Saul – the guy that’s been chasing you? That’s been trying to kill you? Maybe you don’t remember that whole “pin you to the wall with a spear” incident.

David’s question didn’t come from a sense of obligation – that he had some kind of responsibility and couldn’t wait to get it done so he could get on with the rest of his business; it came from a heart of generosity. He was actively looking. Searching. Imploring. Surely there must be someone I can show kindness to. But then again – that’s what grace is like isn’t it?

When you get a little grace, you start asking, “Who else?” Cause there must be someone. You don’t do it because you feel obligation; you do it because you have, even for a moment, stood back and reflected on exactly who you are and where you are and the sense of it is overwhelming. It must be shared. It must be poured out:

“Therefore, be imitators of God, as dearly loved children. And walk in love, as the Messiah also loved us and gave Himself for us, a sacrificial and fragrant offering to God” (Ephesians 5:1-2).

Is there anyone else left? You bet there is. And you and I are going to meet a lot of them today.

Wednesday Links

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

1. The Lord Does Not Despise the Day of Small Things

I love posts like this. Though written primarily for pastors, the principle applies: “For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice…” (Zechariah 4:10).

2. The Ordinary War with Irritability

Life is full of irritations, but our reactions don’t have to be irritable.

3. Christians, Beware the Blame Game

We must return to the very biblical notion that the church is the answer to the world’s problems.

4. Who is the Vandy Whistler?

If you watched any of the College World Series, then you’ve heard the Vandy Whistler. Here’s the man (men) behind the sound.

Another Way to Understand Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not rely on your own understanding;
in all your ways know him,
and he will make your paths straight (Prov. 3:5-6).

I love these verses. They are simple and straightforward. Just think for a moment about the core truths we find in just a few words:

We see some truth about us. That we, in our finitude, have a very limited capacity in understanding. We don’t know the future; we barely know even a portion of the past. We cannot see the divine tapestry being woven that intertwines us all together, and therefore we cannot begin to assume the pathway the Lord has laid out before us.

And we see some truth about God. That just as we have our limits, God Himself is limitless. Inasmuch as we should not rely on our own understanding, we can put our faith in Him who understands, knows, and directs all. 

And we see some truth about our relationship with God. That, as the writer of Hebrews will later tell us, without faith, it is impossible to please God. Faith is what our relationship is built on – faith in God’s goodness proven for us through the cross of Jesus Christ. And because His advocacy is not in doubt, we can place our whole faith in Him, holding nothing back.

We see all these things, and it suddenly makes simple work of life. In these days of seeming complexity, we can come back to this: Trust in God. Trust in His word and definition of reality. Follow Him, and He will take care of us. That’s it.

And we can breathe again. The weight of pressure of the multitude of daily decisions, opinions, and potential forks in the road before us suddenly lightens. Trust God. Follow Him. The path will be straight.

That’s is a good and right way to read and understand Proverbs 3:5-6. But at the same time, what if there is another layer to how we might understand it? Not “another layer” in the sense that there is some kind of coded message here, but some additional meaning that comes from dwelling deeply on these words? 

Specifically, the line about not relying on our own understanding. We tend, once again, to think about that in terms of our limitations. That because we have a limited ability to understand, we should put our trust in the One who has no limits on His understanding. That is certainly true, as the prophet Isaiah tells us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
and your ways are not my ways.”
This is the Lord’s declaration.
“For as heaven is higher than earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways,
and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9).

But as we think more about it, surely we come to the conclusion that there are additional reasons we should not trust in our own understanding. It’s not just that we have a limited ability to understand; it’s that we have a tainted ability to understand. It’s not just that there are some things beyond our grasp; it’s that even when we think we grasp something we are likely to understand it wrongly.

In other words, we should not trust in our own understanding because our understanding cannot be trusted. That’s because we ourselves cannot be trusted.

And here we find just how counter cultural these two verses really are, for if we can’t trust our own hearts, then the entire culture of “follow your own heart” and “do what makes you happy” is a lie. Surely if we are honest with ourselves we know it to be true.

How many times have our feelings told us to do something only to find the end in ruins?

How many times have we trusted our gut only to find ourselves in the midst of anger or bitterness or sin?

How many times have we pursued our own happiness instead of dying to ourselves to find that we have hurt those around us?

No, our hearts cannot be trusted. And consequently, we need something better than ourselves to trust in. Which, of course, leads us back to the proverb. The culture around us would say,

“Trust in yourself with all your heart, for you have all the understanding you need. In all your ways, be true to yourself, and your path will always be straight.”

But Jesus loves us enough to tell us the truth:

Take up your cross and follow me. If you try and save your life, you will lose it. But if you lose your life, you will find it in me.

One Important Question in Discerning the Will of God

You know the scenario:

You have an important choice to make. Maybe it’s about a major in college. Or a new job to take or turn down. Or a relationship to move to the next level. You, deep in your heart, really want to do what God wants you to do. So you go out to the woods and sit on a stump and say to God, “I’m not leaving this stump until you tell me the right choice to make.”

Then you get cold and go home.

Discerning the will of God often comes, rather than seeing writing in the sky, by asking a series of questions about the choices before you and then based on those answers choosing the way which seems most wise to you. Along the way, I’ve had great men and women help me see some of the right questions to ask. Questions like this:

– Is either choice sinful?

– Which choice provides the greatest opportunity for the gospel to be spread through your life?

– Which choice better lines up with how God has uniquely gifted you?

– Do the people you love and respect in your life have a sense which choice might fit better?

These are all great questions to ask. And I want to add one more to that list. For the sake of this question, let’s assume that there is an opportunity before you that you can either accept or reject. Here, then, is an important question to ask:

– Does doing this thing which God might be calling you to do violate what you already know He’s called you to do?

Let’s say that you have a chance to take a big promotion at work. The salary is good, and you would be advancing further up the corporate ladder. Nothing wrong with that. But when you ask this question, you see that it leads to a host of other questions:

– I know God has called me to be a sacrificial husband. Does taking this promotion give me a greater opportunity to do that?

– I know God has called me to lead my family and raise my children in His admonition. Does the job requirements make doing so an impossibility?

– I know God has called me to not just go to church but be the church. Does taking this job infringe on my ability to serve the local church well?

It helps me to think of it in terms of pictures. Imagine a circle. What that circle represents is God’s will for you. And me. And your mom. And your cousin. These are things we know are God’s will – for us to be sanctified. For us to be generous. For us to not kill. Things like that.

Now imagine that inside of that circle is another circle, this one representing God’s specific will. Now inside here you find which college you should go to, who you should marry, and what job you should take. The specific will fits inside the general will of God.

The bottom line with this question is this: What you perceive to be God’s call on your life won’t contradict what you know to be God’s call on your life.