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Praise you, Father, for you are incomprehensible.  You are God.

God once asked me to start a church.  The church closed.  As I sought God after the church had closed, He gave me a very clear sense that, yes, He really had called me to do that.  In other words, He had called me to fail, or at least it looked that way.  And why not?  God called the King of Kings to die.  If that is how God operates, He is not going to be easy to predict.

An agnostic man once told me that he would like to test scientifically whether God exists and acts in history.

“And how would you do that?” I asked.

“Oh, I would take a sample of people who believed in God and a sample of people who didn’t, and if God is real and acts in history, then the people who believe should be healthier.”

I gave him a look.

“You don’t think it would work?” he asked

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what if God can get to a man’s soul by making his body sick?  To God, that would be a good trade, and He would do it in a minute.”

The agnostic was thinking superficially, as people are custom to thinking, but God looks deeper than we do.  God refused to remove Paul’s “thorn in the flesh.”  God said that His grace was sufficient.  The thorn forced Paul to rely on God, and that reliance was evidently worth the thorn.  God says that He makes His strength perfect through weakness.  He says that we gain our lives by losing them.  He says that the first will be last.

God does not operate as we do.  He constantly astounds us, thus, forcing us to approach Him with an open mind.  He will close a church to build a man or let cancer spread to gain our trust.  To us, this all sounds crazy, but it is how God works, and we must let God be God.

Unfortunately, however, many of us will not let God be God.  Often we have our preconceived notions, and we will not allow God to surprise us.  We, thus, miss God.  At Pentecost the Holy Spirit came.  The disciples had been told this would happen, and they had been waiting for it, praying for it, and expecting it.  Yet when it happened, none of them had ever dreamed that it would manifest itself the way it did.  God gave them the very thing they were expecting, and it still surprised them.  That’s God.  Too many followers of Jesus have their spiritual routines set and will not allow God to do something fresh and new.  Too many churches have their programs going so efficiently that they have neither room in their minds nor time in their schedules for God to show up.  If God ever did show up, one wonders whether they would recognize it.  Their minds are too narrow.

A narrow mind is a heart problem, and an open mind is not the child of the mind.  This is true of agnostics as well as church people.  When Bart Ehrman dismisses the Resurrection of Jesus because, well, resurrections don’t happen, his argument is simply a closed mind.  It may be the best argument he can give, but it is still a closed mind. His world is confined in a cramped closet, and anything outside that closet simply cannot be. Such people are not open to the possibility that perhaps God could surprise them, and their narrow mind is the product of the heart, not of the intellect.

But church people sometimes display similar narrowness.  Some have no room in their theology for God to heal the sick or raise the dead today.  Some are so stuck in running their church like a business that God becomes the great CEO in the sky, and He certainly would not operate outside accepted business principles, which they would call wisdom.  They incorporate marketing, programming, research, technology, and fiscal policy, all of which can certainly be helpful. But none of these things is what makes the church the church.  When God operates, He does so through His Spirit, and the Spirit doesn’t generally follow the market trends.  Sometimes the minds of church people are so fixed on how to do church that they won’t let God work.  This is a narrow mind, and it is the product of the heart.

Perhaps we want God to be safe and simple so that we can fit Him into our brains, or perhaps we fear uncertainty.  Whatever it is, God still insists on being God.  He is far bigger and wilder than we would like Him to be.  His ways are not our ways, and we must learn to live with that.  A mind open to God comes from a right heart, a heart humble enough to admit that God is bigger than we, a heart willing to let God surprise us.  For if God never surprises us, we have a small God, a small heart, and a small mind.

For I know in whom I have believed and am persuaded that he is able to keep unto that day that which has been entrusted to me.

A Pharisee asked a cynic, “Why do you doubt everything?”

“I doubt because of you,” replied the cynic. “You are certain about the number of fleas on the donkey that carried Jesus into Jerusalem.  Why should I trust anything else you say?”

“Then don’t trust me.  But shouldn’t you at least be confident in God?”

“Whose god? Your god? I don’t think I want that. I would rather be humble enough to admit that I may be mistaken.”

The Pharisee and the cynic are alive and well in churches across the land.  The Pharisee thinks faith requires him to know everything, while the cynic thinks humility requires him to question everything. The Pharisee emphasizes doctrine in a way that squashes out the heart. The cynic emphasizes the heart or mystery or ethics or some other thing in a way that squashes out knowledge of God.  Both people have a wrong heart that is shown by their confidence.  One has a false confidence.  The other no confidence in God at all.  Both the Pharisee and the cynic take the heart off the path of God.   One will cause the heart to veer off the bridge to the right, the other to the left.  Either way, you end up in the river, and Satan is pleased, for you will go nowhere with God.

A heart that sees God has confidence in Him. Our current world entices the follower of Jesus to give up any source of assurance. It associates assurance with arrogance and then points to the Pharisee as proof that religious confidence is morally deficient. Yet simple faith in Jesus is far more humble ─ and confident ─ than the humility of this world. Humility and certainty are not opposites.  Those who are in Christ know in whom they have believed (II Tim 1:12).  They know that they have eternal life (I Jn 5:13).  They have confidence about things they cannot see (Heb 11:1), and this confidence breeds humility.

A genuine heart is certain of those things the Bible speaks of. Jesus’ people know that the blood of Jesus cleanses them from all sin. They know that their Savior has bodily risen from the grave and that death is swallowed up in victory. They know that God works all things together for their good. They know that they have a holy, righteous, sovereign, and mighty God. They know Him, and because they know Him, they can boldly approach Him and unwaveringly trust Him.

To some, such confidence will always be arrogance. To others it will be ignorance. In reality, it is more like the confidence that a small boy has in a good father. The boy trusts Dad because he knows him. In this respect, a lack of confidence is a symptom of an unhealthy relationship. When the boy constantly doubts Dad, we have a problem.  This is true between children and parents, husbands and wives, employers and employees, and it is true between God and us. Confidence and trust go hand in hand. If we say that we trust God, but we are not confident in anything that He says, we deceive ourselves.

Confidence, however, does not mean we understand everything. We can question God, just as Habakkuk did; but when we question, we still trust, just as Habakkuk did.

The Pharisees and their current descendants, however, are good reminders that confidence alone does not prove the genuineness of a heart. Many people are confident in some experience they had. Others are confident in a false teaching. Still others are confident merely that they are right. None of these situations represents genuine trust. Genuine trust in God and the confidence that comes from it goes deeper. It begins in Jesus and it ends in Jesus. It breeds righteousness and spiritual boldness.  It touches us inside.  It results in peace, and it pleases God.

Father, you have given me the peace of God that passes all understanding.  May I rest in it by your grace.

“Tell me,” the officer said.  “If you could have one thing in the world, what would it be?”  I was a high school senior sitting in a chair in the Air Force ROTC office at Kansas University. I wore a fancy suit, and the officer was interviewing me as part of the application process for an ROTC scholarship.

“Peace of mind,” I said.

I don’t think he was expecting that answer.  He looked too surprised.  Nonetheless, I did receive the scholarship.

The peace of God has been the one aspect of knowing Christ that I cannot escape.  It pursues me and overtakes me wherever I go.  When doctors told me I needed radiation treatment for a brain tumor, God filled my soul with peace.  When I was single in my thirties but desired a wife, God dogged me with His peace.  When I went through unemployment after unemployment, not knowing where the money would come from, God reassured me with His peace.  This I know.  The peace of God is real.  No one will ever convince me otherwise.  I’ve seen it, and I’ve seen it in the face of adversity.  Peace has been God’s calling card upon my life.

A heart filled with Jesus has peace.  “Peace I leave you,” Jesus said. “My peace I give you.  Not as the world gives…” Jesus gives one kind of peace. The world gives another.  The world cannot understand the peace of Christ.  In fact, sometimes God’s people cannot understand it, even while they revel in it.  It is a wondrous thing.

The peace of God is in Christ, for in Christ God has forgiven our sin. In Christ, God has reconciled our relationship with Him. In Christ, God has put to death our old nature and made us new. In Christ, we are clean, we are whole, we are right, and we are new. In Christ, the fullness of God dwells inside us, and where God dwells, peace dwells. We may lose our job, our health, or our spouse. We may grieve and hurt deeply, but we will still have peace. The presence of pain is not the absence of peace.

The peace Jesus gives is an inward quietness, a rest that comes from knowing that Jesus satisfies our deepest needs, and that no one can take that away. This world may take away our home, our health or our freedom, but it cannot touch our peace if that peace rests in Christ. God touches us more deeply than circumstances do; consequently, the peace of Christ remains through all circumstances.

The peace the world gives is quite different. It resembles real peace by creating a type of contentment. The peace of the world takes comfort in met needs, but those needs are different needs.  Earthly peace finds consolation in financial security, good health, a family, friends, nature, or a sense of morality. This peace is tied more closely to circumstances than to God, and it is built more on self than on God. Personal comfort is not peace, and self cannot give peace.

Earthly peace sometimes consists of nothing more than personality. Some people are wired to be more content than others. The man who goes through life with a laissez faire attitude, who always appears to be content with what life throws at him, seems outwardly to be at peace. But if you get behind the layers, he may have no more inner peace than the restless wanderer. His “peace” is his personality, and personality is not peace.

Earthly peace sometimes comes from sweet feelings. A nature lover may describe many sweet feelings she feels while in the woods. A religious man may describe similar experiences when praying or contemplating the Cross. Elevated emotions and feelings, even religious ones, are not real peace. Sweet feelings do often accompany true peace in Christ, but they do not define it. Real peace can sometimes be a strong, sweet emotion, but more often it is a quiet certainty.

The peace of the world is an eggshell.  We may decorate it pretty on the outside, but sooner or later, it gets knocked onto the tile floor, and then we see what it is made of.

The peace of Jesus is a gift of grace. Those who have it know that they do not deserve it. In fact, that is why they have it, for God refuses to give His grace to those who think themselves worthy of it.

The peace of Jesus comes from righteousness. Real righteousness. A righteousness that is as deep as the Cross. “The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever.” The angels can promise “Peace on Earth” because the child whose birth they sing will bring righteousness to the human race. Peace and righteousness go together. The world cannot give peace because the world cannot give righteousness.

Thomas a Kempis wrote, “Peace is what all desire, but all do not care for the things that make for true peace.” Peace comes through renouncing the desires of our flesh and listening to the Holy Spirit.  It is hard.

Earth calls. “Look over here,” it says. “Your deadline is fast approaching … Oh, wouldn’t that sofa and chair look nice in the living room … you’re getting a few more gray hairs now … have an iced latte … don’t miss that Christmas special … how will you pay the mortgage this month?”

God calls. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened.”

“The big game is tomorrow … yes, yes, yes … seven steps to financial freedom … four principles for a good marriage … Oh, your husband left you? I’ve got just the book for you … by Dr. Bill … so practical … how do you like your burgers cooked?”

“And I will give you rest.”

“Yes, did you hear what Jasmine told Kristen about Matt … congratulations! It’s a boy … what are you doing to help the environment … to alleviate the plight of the homeless … to eliminate poverty …to help the Guban people in Eastern Gubania … stop war now … Oh, you just lost your job?  I’m so sorry.”

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart.”

“Your research report should have at least five sources … I think the transmission just went out in the car … 3,000 dollars … don’t be late to church … and baseball practice is at five … the ladies are coming for coffee on Tuesday … get the house ready … get the house ready …”

“And you will find rest for your souls.”

“At the top of the charts this month is … what difference does it make so long as they are consenting adults …”

Is it any wonder we have no peace?

Father, I have in Christ the hope of glory.  Hallelujah! 

When I was a boy, I always looked forward with great anticipation to Christmas.  I still do.  Maybe I am still a boy (my wife says it is so), but Christmas is such a special time. I was talking with a guy at work last week.  He and his wife are looking forward to a trip to Europe this summer, and we talked about their plans.  Because I rub elbows with so many in the university, I often encounter people looking forward to graduation or to the beginning of their master’s or Phd in the fall.  Looking to the future is part of life.  You and I do it quite a bit; we know what it is like.  Indeed, everyone does it at some point.  We look forward to family trips, new jobs, summer break, big games, getting off crutches, wedding days, due dates, birthdays, holidays, Friday night and much more.  We understand what it is like to look eagerly to the future.

For the people of God, this sort of experience is part of the fabric of life, for they live with an eager expectation of eternity.  They have an inheritance awaiting them in heaven, and they know it.  They have a future existence in which their pain will be gone forever and their joy will know no end, and they know it.  They have an everlasting life with God, a real future, and they know it.

The term the Bible uses to describe this expectation of the future is “hope.”  Christians live life on Earth with hope.  They suffer from disease, injury, rejection, and persecution, but they have hope.  They understand that while this Earth is temporary, their inheritance is not.  Jesus’ followers live for the hope of eternity.

Now Biblical hope is somewhat different from the popular meanings of hope.  Sometimes we say, “I hope it will rain tomorrow.”  What we mean is “I would like it to rain.”  This sense is not what Biblical hope is even though it does involve something we desire.  We also say, “She has lost all hope.”  By that we mean “she is in despair.”  Hope and despair are opposites.  This is getting closer, for Biblical hope certainly opposes despair, but even this is incomplete.

The hope we see in the Bible is not a wish but a confidence, and it does not just alleviate despair.  It produces joy.  Thus, when God’s people show hope in heaven, they are not just wanting it to be so.  They are living with full assurance that heaven is their home, and such assurance brings them great delight.  Like faith, hope entails a certainty of things not seen, and like joy, it brings great delight to the soul.  Hope is in the same family as faith and joy; all three share the same spiritual DNA, but the focus of hope is always the future.

Hope rests in God.  Followers of Jesus do not place their hope in the stock market, their bank accounts, their spouses, the hospital, or the next election.  All those things will eventually fail to fulfill our deepest desires, but God does not.

Hope changes everything because, like faith, it changes our perspective of Earth.  Diabetes looks different when we know it is temporary.  Being spurned for a promotion looks different when our hope is not in our job.  Even death looks different when we see it as the birth canal for glory.

Hope affects how we live in the world.  If it never does so, it is not hope.  The critique that Christians are so heavenly minded that they are of no earthly good is a misunderstanding of hope.  Our hope of glory makes us want to live in purity now.  Our knowledge that all tears will be wiped away makes us want to wipe away tears now.  Our certainty of life after death gives us a greater boldness in life now.  People who think on heaven do more good for God on Earth now than those who never think on heaven at all.  Imagine being in an army and knowing you were going to win the war.  It would change your morale now, and if you held such a hope properly, it would make you a bolder warrior now.  The world does not suffer from people who think too much on heaven.  It suffers from people who think too little on it.

When the hope of glory gets lost in the matrix of life, we lose one of the chief sources of richness in life.  Hope for eternity makes life now truly alive.  When our eye is focused merely on the daily shuffle of responsibilities, they lose their meaning.  The same is true when we are focused merely on the next ten years or fifty.  The hope of glory changes all that.  A follower of Jesus sees eternity and knows the final outcome of his or her life, and that confidence changes everything.  Now.

Father, praise you for the inner power of joy that flows in me through Christ and through Christ alone.

I proposed to Leanne at Christmas.  I was actually sick at the time and felt miserable, but when she said “yes,” my misery didn’t matter.  I rejoiced, and my mom threw a big dinner party to celebrate.  Later we had children.  Upon receiving news that we were pregnant with child #1 and then #2, and then #3, we called our friends and family because we couldn’t help it.  We were elated.  And nine months later, when Charissa, Matthew, and Rebekah were born, we did the same thing again.   Marriages and babies bring joy.  Graduations bring joy.  Promotions, awards, championships, scholarships, all these and more bring joy.

Joy is the most natural response to good news.  Consequently, the people of Jesus have great joy because in Jesus they have great news. Their sin is wiped away.  Death is destroyed.  They have a Father who greatly loves them and who will provide their every need.  They have a future and an inheritance that surpasses their wildest dreams.  They have a purpose in God.  They have peace.

All these benefits are ours in Christ, and, by themselves, they are reasons for great joy.  If people rejoice when they pay off their mortgage, how much more ought they rejoice when their deepest debt is gone, and they are completely free for eternity?  And still God’s people have an even bigger reason for joy than these blessings.  They have Jesus.  And because they have Jesus, they have His joy.  “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full,” he said (Jn 15:11).  Joy is a normal part of life with Jesus.  It is a mark of a follower of Christ.

C.S. Lewis was surprised by this aspect of Christianity. He wasn’t expecting such joy, but there it was.  Joni Eareckson Tada sings of God’s goodness from her wheelchair.  Corrie Ten Boom rejoices in the God whose love she saw in the deepest, darkest hole of a Nazi concentration camp.  Paul tells the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord always,” and he does so while he is in chains in a prison cell.

You have see people who are outgoing and bubbly.  On the outside they seem joyful, but that is not necessarily the joy of Christ.  The joy of Christ transcends personality.

The joy of Christ is stronger than the sufferings of earth.  It’s like Leanne saying “yes” when I was sick.  Physically I was still sick.  Her acceptance of my proposal did not heal my flu.  I still had to suffer through it, but her answer gave me a different perspective on my sufferings.  The news was so great that my view of suffering changed.  The joy of Christ is this way.  The sufferings of earth are real.  God’s people still hurt and get sad.  They wrestle with anger, bitterness, pain and sorrow, some more than others, but deep down, underneath the rejection, the cancer, the injustice and betrayal — down in the foundation of the heart lies the joy of Christ.  It’s like an underground spring that is flowing, often unseen, waiting to bubble to the surface.  The joy of Christ is not naïve.  It is joy in the full face of the pain of earth.  It is not a simplistic “Just be happy” mindset.  It goes deeper than that.  It flows from Christ, and because it flows from Christ, it flows from the very rock on which we stand.  It sees the pain, but it also sees the glory that will dissolve all pain.

Some of God’s people see this joy more than others, but all of God’s people have access to it, even when they lose their job or their child.

Father, by Your great grace, grant me an all-consuming love for Christ, a love that transforms not just my feelings but my life. 

Everyone wants love, but few ever find it.  We talk about it.  We sing songs about it.  We write poetry about it.  We give seminars on it.  But much of what we call love is more like emotional candy. 

 Jesus speaks of love.  He says that love for God is the greatest commandment.  When He says this, He is not talking about the passions of a brief fling or the indulgence of earthly pleasure.  Indeed, the love Jesus talks about fulfills God’s commands.  To Jesus, love obeys God.  To Jesus, love lays down its life. To Jesus, love involves heart, soul, mind, and strength.  To Jesus, love is multifaceted and deep. 

If we love God, here is some of what it looks like. 

We are patient with God.  We are willing to wait for God to do His will in His time.  We do not demand that God give us today the job we want.  We do not expect God to explain all of our questions now.  We wait for God.  We wait for Him to provide, for Him to save a friend, for Him to explain why.  This is part of loving God.

We are kind to God.  We always talk about God being kind to us (and it is true), but are we kind to God?  Do we respect what He says in Scripture or do we change it?  Do we spend time loving our Master or do we have too many other things going on?  When we are kind, we do not badmouth God’s ways. We may not understand those ways.  We may see that God’s ways run counter to our culture, but we accept them anyway.  It is not kind to turn our backs on what God has said simply because our culture pressures us.  That would be unloving. 

We do not desire what God has.  For example, God has the right to run the world.  We do not.  Many people, however, desire to run their world and their family’s world too.  When we want to be in charge of our lives, we envy the position God has, and when we desire what God has, we are never satisfied.  When we love God, however, we are content not being God.  We are content simply because we are God’s children.  This flows from the love of God.

We do not boast or exalt ourselves before God.  We understand that He is God and we are not.  Love for God shows itself in humility before God.

We do not insist that God grant our desires or that God operate the way we would like Him to.  We understand that God is not our waiter catering to our every desire.  We exist for Him.  Indeed, when we love God, our desires change.  We want to see His desires manifest in our lives.  We want to see His kingdom spread across the earth.  We want to see His will carried out among us.  When we love God, our desires are transformed from a selfish focus on our own little world to an undying passion to see the glory of God on Earth. 

We rejoice in God’s truth.  His Scriptures are a fountain of joy.  We do not merely accept them.  We exult over them.  “The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart.”  (Ps 19:8)  Conversely, this means that we do not rejoice in sin.  If we love God, we do not celebrate or our justify sin.  Instead we repent of it. The man who celebrates the money he gained by deception is not showing love for God.  The woman who justifies her lesbian relationship is not showing love for God, for love does not rejoice in wrongdoing.  Love for God is never divorced from Scripture, for God delights in the truth of Scripture.  And so should we. 

We bear hardship and endure all things for God.  Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”  (Mt 5:11)  Those who reject God insult those who love God.  This was true in Jesus’ day, and it is still true today.  God’s people today face mockery, adverse public opinion, rejection from parents and friends, job discrimination, jail, beatings, even death.  They endure these things because of their love for God.  When a woman loves her husband, sometimes she must endure hardship because of him.  Mrs. Martin Luther King had to suffer along with Mr. Martin Luther King.  She shows her loyalty by enduring the suffering.  Love for God is no different.  We endure insults and sufferings because of our love.

We believe God even when we don’t fully understand.  Love breeds trust.  We trust God because we know His character.  We may not know whether our daughter will make it through surgery or whether we will ever marry, but we know God.  We believe He is good — even when our daughter dies in surgery.  In addition, we believe what God has said in Scripture.  It is really rather silly for me to say that I love my wife if I do not believe what she says. So it is when we love God.  We believe what Scripture says.  This is part of loving God.

We put our hope in God.  We know that in Christ we have a glorious future and that God is for us.  This means that we do not look to our 401k for our future security.  It means that our health does not determine our future.  It means that a Phd, a promotion, an award, or a lovely family is not where our hope lies.  If we love God, He is our hope and He is our future.

 Love for God lasts.  It is not fickle like the wind, always changing directions.  When we love God, we are committed to Him. But love for God is not a dry, stale obedience, a mere act of the will and nothing else.  Love for God rejoices and sings. Love for God has great affection for God, great passion for Him.  It is sweet and strong and rich.  It is not a nebulous, objectless feeling but is focused on the Beloved.  Love for God frees us.  It raises us up above ourselves and enables us to attempt great things that we would never think of doing on our own.  God’s people yearn for God.  They want to see Him, to be with Him, to talk to Him, to know Him. 

The feelings of love may fluctuate, just as they do in a marriage. But the commitment of love remains, just as it does in a good marriage.  And though feelings may come and go with the moment, over time they grow.

 Genuine love for God affects our hearts, thoughts, decisions, and lives.  It pulls us toward righteousness like a great magnet, and it flows through our souls like blood.  It comes from God, and it leads us higher and higher into the heights of God.  It rests in the heart.  Indeed, if it is not in the heart, it is not love. 

Lord, you test my heart by putting me under authority.  I wrestle with obedience.  But you are gracious.  Grant me a heart willing to yield to You above all and to those you have put over me.

Sometimes American movies can be predictable. A typical plotline goes something like this. A powerful authority perpetuates some injustice — let’s say racial discrimination. A common person gets caught up in the injustice and wants to change it. This person then stands proudly defiant against a corrupt system or a powerful leader, experiences many struggles, but in the end prevails. Events vindicate him.

These are America’s heroes, and these heroes say something about America. We like our heroes to rebel. Even when those in power are truly unjust and the hero is in the right, he often resists in the wrong way, for he often demonstrates a defiance that Lucifer himself would be proud of. The externals are gold. The attitude is poison. Many of our heroes do not know how to stand against authority because they do not know how to obey it. A rebel is the least qualified person to rebel.

Some things have a way of revealing the nature of a heart. Authority is one of those things. The universe is founded on authority, and all lesser authorities, like husbands, fathers, governments, elders, and employers, derive their authority from God. Consequently, our attitude toward authority reveals much about our attitude toward God.

David would not lift his hand against the king who wanted to kill him. Saul may have been a coward and a wicked man, but he was still “the Lord’s anointed.” David could have killed Saul in the cave. Instead, he cut off a corner of Saul’s garment, and that very act smote David’s conscience. His spirit was sensitive to authority. Ours is not. David would not criticize the leader who wanted to kill him. We criticize a leader who has a style different from our own. David feared God. We often do not.

This issue of authority and our response to it is enormous because the central conflict of the human race is this: who is in charge? You and I answer that question a thousand times a day. Our choices answer it. Our attitude towards the current government, our talk about a teacher or boss, our willingness or reluctance to listen to the Spirit of God, all these show daily who we really think is in charge. The human heart, at its core, wants to be in charge. It wants to be like the Most High. That is why the human heart, in its natural state, will not follow Christ.

The proper response to authority is obedience, respect, and submission. We cringe when we hear those words. The cringing itself communicates a bias and a heart attitude. Something inside us does not want to submit. What then will we do when we meet the One before whom the only proper response is to fall on our faces? Obedience, respect, and submission must be the default heart attitude toward authority. If we will not submit to our employer whom we can see, then we will not submit to God whom we cannot see. If we are quick to stretch local laws to suit ourselves, then we will be quick to stretch the Bible to suit ourselves. If we disrespect our president because we do not like his policies, we will be apt to disrespect God because we do not like His policies.

Scripture does talk about a time to disobey earthly authority (e.g. Acts 4:19-20), but such disobedience is the exception, not the norm.  Too often we make it the norm. 

In the army I worked under authority.  I was a company executive officer with a company commander over me, and a battalion commander over him, and a brigade commander over him, and a division commander over him, and so on.  Everyone is under authority.  If my division commander (a general) and my company commander (a captain) had told me to do opposite things, obviously I would need to obey my division commander, for he has a higher authority.  That situation would be rare.  The norm, however, is that my division commander would expect all the soldiers under him to obey their local chain of command.  It would be no contradiction for him to say to me, “Obey your captain.”  In fact, if I disobeyed my captain, I would be subject to military discipline, and the general would uphold it, for when I disobeyed my captain, I disobeyed the entire authority structure, of which the general is a part. 

Authority in the real world is like this.  God is like the commander in chief.  My government is a captain. A father at home is a colonel.  God wants me to obey and respect my captain and colonel because when I do, I am showing respect to authority, and He is the ultimate authority.  I may disobey my captain or colonel only in those rare circumstances when they tell me to do something that contradicts what a higher authority has declared.

This is why our response to authority is so important.  Authority represents God.  We yield as if yielding to God (Eph 5:22; 6:5). 

When you see genuine respect for authority, you are seeing a heart attitude that God delights in, but when you see people continually gripe about those over them, you are seeing an attitude that does not come from God.  Either way, you are glimpsing the heart.  

Father, I am weak and sinful apart from you.  I fall and fall again, and I don’t want that kind of life.  Grant my heart a right passion for you and grant me your view of my sin that I may repent when it is time to repent and pursue you in purity.

Sin has a revelatory power to it, for perhaps nothing shows the nature of our hearts more than our reaction to our own sin.  I have seen men have affairs against their wives and then defend their actions.  I have seen children lie to their parents and then boast about it to their friends.  In each case, the second sin reveals a heart much worse than the first; for the second sin shows that the cancer has taken over the heart.  The second sin shows the real person.

In Jesus’ parable, when the tax collector prayed, he beat his chest and pleaded for mercy.  God likes that kind of prayer.  But we are uncomfortable with it. We don’t want to get too carried away. 

Alan knocked on my apartment door.  He was a friend and we often would jog together, but this visit was a surprise.  We talked small talk in my living room before I asked, “So, what brings you here?” 

He indicated that he needed to talk to me about something and could we go somewhere.  We left my apartment and went walking down by the pool and found a picnic table where we sat down.  We were the only ones in the area.  I asked him again what was up.

With broken speech and great tears, he confessed that he had lost his virginity that week.

Kent attended a large church in San Antonio. He was married but was living with a girlfriend. A couple men and I went to talk to him about his situation, but he saw nothing wrong with his behavior. Eventually he left his wife.

Kent and Alan were different men. Their sins may have been similar, but their responses were not. One was broken-hearted. One was defiant. I reminded Alan of God’s rich forgiveness. I could do no such thing for Kent.

God isn’t looking for people who want to justify their sin.  When we have the heart of God, we are broken over our sin. 

King David committed adultery and then murder to cover up his adultery, yet he is called a man after God’s own heart.  It is not David’s sin that shows this heart.  It is his response to it.  He wept over it.  He knew he had sinned against God.  Many may sin as David sinned, but few ever repent as David repented.  

I met an old friend a few months ago.  We talked in a coffee shop.  It had been years since I had seen him, but I felt an immediate bond.  As we talked about our families and the things God had been doing with us since the old days, he told me about a parent who had deeply hurt him.  His parents had gotten divorced, and his dad had married another woman.  My friend said that he harbored anger and bitterness over his dad’s actions and that God had to show him his heart toward his dad and his dad’s new wife.  God called my friend to repent of his attitude and treatment of them.  He had to change, and he did. 

I could relate.  I once had to seek forgiveness from my own father for the way I had treated him.  Indeed, I have had to repent of attitudes toward bosses, behavior toward workmates, arguments with family members and more.  Repentance is central to following God.  All who belong to Jesus experience it.  Repentance is the proper heart response to sin.  It is humility applied to our own sin.  Because God is passionate about transforming His people, He insists on calling them to repentance.  If you have never had to repent, I wonder if you understand anything about God. 

God’s people properly lament their sin.  Our hearts hurt when we see the hurt we bring to others.  Our hearts hurt when we see the damage we have done to ourselves and to our relationship with God.  Our hearts want to change when we see what our hearts really are.  This is basic to Christianity.  Faith affects our heart relationship with sin. 

This world wants us to be comfortable in sin.  But the Holy Spirit brings conviction to the heart.  God’s people may wrestle with specific sins and fall many times, but we know that this fight is a battle we must wage, for we see the ugliness of our own sin and deeply yearn for the righteousness of God.  Repentance comes from a passion for righteousness.  When we are comfortable in our sin, we care little about righteousness.  God, however, is zealous for it.  And so are his people. 

Repentance, of course, is bigger than lamenting sin.  When Jesus tells people to repent, He is telling them to turn away from sin and to God.  Such a turning is more than merely feeling sorry.  We can sometimes feel sorry without ever changing.  Yet repentance that does not feel anything is not repentance.  Repentance must come from the heart.  God works from the inside out, and He wants us broken over our sin.  Such brokenness makes God glad, for then the potter can take the shards of our souls and recreate in us His image and make us His masterpiece. 

Lord, you see me as I truly am. Open the eyes of my heart and allow me to see myself as I truly am.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.” People who follow Jesus see from the heart their own spiritual poverty. The bulk of humanity, however, wants to hold onto a vestige of goodness within themselves. Others within the church sometimes pay lip service to their spiritual bankruptcy. They acknowledge it intellectually as a doctrine, but they do not see it from the heart.  Until this truth hits our heart, we do not have humility.

God reserves His blessings for the poor in spirit because they are the most honest people. The woman who recognizes that she has nothing to bring to God and who humbles herself before Him actually sees reality. She honestly believes what is true. God likes that.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” People who follow Jesus do not put themselves forward. One cannot follow Jesus and exalt self simultaneously. Of course, we struggle with this, but a heart touched by the Spirit of God knows enough of its own sin to not be pushy. It knows it is not worthy enough to demand its own way. It grows gentler.

The humble man “does not concern himself with great matters or things too wonderful” for him. Humility does not have to know everything. A humble man sees realistically the limits of his own knowledge and abilities. He does not demand that God explain why Mom suffered so much before she died. He does not require that God provide more evidence before he will believe. He does not have to know the answer to the dilemma between free will and predestination. He does not need to have the future mapped out. He does not have to know “why” before he obeys. He does not read the Bible in order to gather answers or understand subtleties. He reads the Bible in order to see God and to live a more holy life.

The humble man acknowledges that he will never understand many issues, and he is OK with that. Arrogance insists that God reveal things that people were never intended to fully know.  Arrogance  is never satisfied, never at peace.

A father said to his young daughter, “I don’t want you to play in Serena’s yard anymore.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I can’t tell you why,” the father said, for she could not understand even if she was told.

The daughter could demand that her father tell her before she obeyed.  Or she could trust him. Humility trusts even when it does not understand. The humble man submits to God. The one who is content not knowing everything, thus, understands more than the one who must know it all, for you will not learn of God until you trust Him.

The humble man is “like a weaned child with its mother.” He is able to still and quiet his soul. Humility is quiet and strong. It is strong because it honestly sees its own weakness. Humility brings great peace. It brings peace because it is open to God. Humility rejoices the heart. It does so because it takes the focus of the heart off of self, and self inhibits joy. Humble people are the freest, most secure, and happiest people on Earth. They do not pretend to be great, and so they can be themselves before God. And when you can be yourself before God, then you are free to love your neighbor.