This is my city whose streets I stride
Whose ways I wander with unwavering pride.
This is my city, it's where I belong
Just one in the masses, humming my own song.
This is my city and this is my plan--
To be God's feet, his voice, his hands.
This is my city, so with purpose I shall live
Because more than it's my city, it's his.
My apologies for my month-long absence. See, my life has recently kicked into the most major overdrive I have ever experienced. I recently (as in, this past week) relocated 1,000 miles from where I've lived most of my life. Just my car full of possessions and a bank account filled with a lot more dreams than dollars. But I've been given the opportunity to pursue one of the biggest dreams I've ever dreamt--so I quit my jobs, packed my bags and left. And I have no regrets.
I'm sure I'll update you more in the future, but just know for now that I'm happier now than I've been in years. Happy because I right where God wants me, doing what he desires me to do.
Just trying to get it right,
Hermeneutical Dan
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sidenote: Remember the Forgotten
I have a crazy family. I mean, seriously. Crazy. I have an aunt that’s been married 6 times. I have a set of grandparents that were divorced and remarried to each other multiple (I repeat, multiple) times. I have a grandfather that spent the last 5 years of his life in prison/house arrest. I have a grandmother that went through rehab because she was addicted to drugs. I have an uncle who was homeless, a drunk and looked like a ghetto Benjamin Franklin. Yeah, ghetto Benjamin Franklin.
Imagine if good ol’ Ben wore a do-rag, never showered, had gold rings on every finger, sported a leather biker vest, a goatee and a coke nail. Imagine if good ol’ Ben drank himself to death. Imagine if good ol’ Ben accidently swallowed a beer can tab while binging that subsequently was lodged in his windpipe for weeks. Imagine if good ol’ Ben somehow split his spleen in half, was found nearly dead, recovered, but had no recollection to how on earth it all happened. Imagine that and you’d be getting close to knowing my uncle.
But see, that’s about all I know about my uncle. Beyond the fact that I know that he was the youngest of 15 children (my grandfather being somewhere in the middle)—I’ve only heard a few stories here and there. My father knew him. My father was the closest family that he had. Sure, he had two kids (maybe three, but it was never confirmed), but they lived hours away and didn’t have much time for a washed-up bum. So my dad would go sit with him at the hospital. My dad would return him to his halfway house. My dad would check in on him, would keep him up to date on family news.
My dad got the phone call at 3:00am yesterday morning that my uncle was dead.
I knew he was constantly dealing with inner torture. I don’t know why; I don’t know what caused him to spend his whole life trying to forget his past. But he was never really a person to me. He was just someone that I heard about on occasion. Just another distant relative. Just another face to forget.
But as I was heading towards bed last night, I noticed one of my cousin’s Facebook status updates. It said, “RIP Uncle _____, I hope you finally found peace in your heart.” Those words hit me so hard. For the first time in my life I saw him as a person. I saw him as a complex, fragile human being desperately trying to find peace. I saw him as a man who died still searching for it.
I could give this story a happy ending by telling you a bit more that I know about my uncle. I know that he came to Christ in the last year of his life. I know that tried to accept the grace and forgiveness of God. I know that he began to go to church more regularly than he ever had and I know that he began to build a relationship with God.
But he still searched. He still looked. He still scrounged around for peace. For comfort. For forgiveness—or forgetfulness. He was still a scared, weak soul trying to find atonement.
I pray that the God of grace welcomes him into his eternal rest. But even beyond that, I hope that my uncle finally has the peace that he spent his life looking for. I pray that even though his methods were skewed and his efforts futile, that his search—and ultimately his finding a Savior, weren’t in vain.
And this is my prayer for every Forgotten. That their troubled memories drive them to a Savior not to a substance. That their search for peace ends in the arms of God, not in the hands of suicide. That, to the rest of the world, they would become Souls, not Scavengers.
That we would be Grace to the Graceless.
That we would be Hope to the Hopeless.
That we would remember the Forgotten.
Imagine if good ol’ Ben wore a do-rag, never showered, had gold rings on every finger, sported a leather biker vest, a goatee and a coke nail. Imagine if good ol’ Ben drank himself to death. Imagine if good ol’ Ben accidently swallowed a beer can tab while binging that subsequently was lodged in his windpipe for weeks. Imagine if good ol’ Ben somehow split his spleen in half, was found nearly dead, recovered, but had no recollection to how on earth it all happened. Imagine that and you’d be getting close to knowing my uncle.
But see, that’s about all I know about my uncle. Beyond the fact that I know that he was the youngest of 15 children (my grandfather being somewhere in the middle)—I’ve only heard a few stories here and there. My father knew him. My father was the closest family that he had. Sure, he had two kids (maybe three, but it was never confirmed), but they lived hours away and didn’t have much time for a washed-up bum. So my dad would go sit with him at the hospital. My dad would return him to his halfway house. My dad would check in on him, would keep him up to date on family news.
My dad got the phone call at 3:00am yesterday morning that my uncle was dead.
I knew he was constantly dealing with inner torture. I don’t know why; I don’t know what caused him to spend his whole life trying to forget his past. But he was never really a person to me. He was just someone that I heard about on occasion. Just another distant relative. Just another face to forget.
But as I was heading towards bed last night, I noticed one of my cousin’s Facebook status updates. It said, “RIP Uncle _____, I hope you finally found peace in your heart.” Those words hit me so hard. For the first time in my life I saw him as a person. I saw him as a complex, fragile human being desperately trying to find peace. I saw him as a man who died still searching for it.
I could give this story a happy ending by telling you a bit more that I know about my uncle. I know that he came to Christ in the last year of his life. I know that tried to accept the grace and forgiveness of God. I know that he began to go to church more regularly than he ever had and I know that he began to build a relationship with God.
But he still searched. He still looked. He still scrounged around for peace. For comfort. For forgiveness—or forgetfulness. He was still a scared, weak soul trying to find atonement.
I pray that the God of grace welcomes him into his eternal rest. But even beyond that, I hope that my uncle finally has the peace that he spent his life looking for. I pray that even though his methods were skewed and his efforts futile, that his search—and ultimately his finding a Savior, weren’t in vain.
And this is my prayer for every Forgotten. That their troubled memories drive them to a Savior not to a substance. That their search for peace ends in the arms of God, not in the hands of suicide. That, to the rest of the world, they would become Souls, not Scavengers.
That we would be Grace to the Graceless.
That we would be Hope to the Hopeless.
That we would remember the Forgotten.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sidenote: I Will Be Still
A tear slid down my face as I sat at the back of a huge white tent in the heat of a summer evening listening to words that I did not understand. No, I knew the words—but not like this. I knew the song; I’d sung it hundreds of times. But I had never listened to it. And so, it took a young refugee standing timidly in front of the largest congregation he’d ever encountered strumming on his old guitar and singing in his native tongue for me to actually listen to the song.
When the oceans rise and thunders roll,
I will soar with you above the storm.
And I got it. I understood it. See, this man was in America because his homeland had been ravaged first by war and then by a horrible tsunami. He had escaped with his life—leaving behind family, friends and everything he knew. The ocean had literally stood up and destroyed everything he owned. And yet.
There he stood. Singing—cautious at first, but growing stronger as his words climbed higher and higher into the heavens.
Father you are King over the flood,
I will be still and know you are God.
I will be still. I will be still and know you are God. The words flowed out of his mouth, out of his soul. I could see that he sang with a voice of experience. He sang with knowledge. He sang with perfect peace. His God—the God of the storm, was also the God of the calm within the storm. He knew that no matter how much he had to go through, no matter how many storms he had to weather in his life, that God was still God. A God of love. A God of mercy. A God of provision. And God of the storm.
I have problems being a Christian sometimes. I mean, I have no problem crediting God for the blessings in my life. I have no problem accepting the new job He provided for me. Or thanking him for protecting me from a car accident. Or honoring him after a miraculous healing.
But. I kick and scream and throw a temper tantrum when I’m handed a pink slip from the boss. I yell to the heavens “WHERE ARE YOU, GOD?!” when I break my hip and total my car. I boldly proclaim that “I do not accept it,” and that “it is not of God,” when I am given a bad report from the doctor. I forget that He is the God of the storm.
I forget that He is God of the storm.
See, as deeply as he is God of the calm, so is the depth of his reign over the storm. It is impossible to fully understand one without the other. We can never truly appreciate the calm if we cannot accept the storm. And we cannot weather the storm if we can’t remember the calm. And neither fulfills its potential when we do not recognize that they are both gifts from God.
I challenge you to trust God in ways that you never have before. To trust that what calm is in your life is a cherished blessing from God—and that the storm is too. To see both the valley and the mountain’s peak as opportunities of growth and communion with God. To trust that God is sovereign and full of love.
I challenge you.
I challenge you to be still and know He is God.
When the oceans rise and thunders roll,
I will soar with you above the storm.
And I got it. I understood it. See, this man was in America because his homeland had been ravaged first by war and then by a horrible tsunami. He had escaped with his life—leaving behind family, friends and everything he knew. The ocean had literally stood up and destroyed everything he owned. And yet.
There he stood. Singing—cautious at first, but growing stronger as his words climbed higher and higher into the heavens.
Father you are King over the flood,
I will be still and know you are God.
I will be still. I will be still and know you are God. The words flowed out of his mouth, out of his soul. I could see that he sang with a voice of experience. He sang with knowledge. He sang with perfect peace. His God—the God of the storm, was also the God of the calm within the storm. He knew that no matter how much he had to go through, no matter how many storms he had to weather in his life, that God was still God. A God of love. A God of mercy. A God of provision. And God of the storm.
I have problems being a Christian sometimes. I mean, I have no problem crediting God for the blessings in my life. I have no problem accepting the new job He provided for me. Or thanking him for protecting me from a car accident. Or honoring him after a miraculous healing.
But. I kick and scream and throw a temper tantrum when I’m handed a pink slip from the boss. I yell to the heavens “WHERE ARE YOU, GOD?!” when I break my hip and total my car. I boldly proclaim that “I do not accept it,” and that “it is not of God,” when I am given a bad report from the doctor. I forget that He is the God of the storm.
I forget that He is God of the storm.
See, as deeply as he is God of the calm, so is the depth of his reign over the storm. It is impossible to fully understand one without the other. We can never truly appreciate the calm if we cannot accept the storm. And we cannot weather the storm if we can’t remember the calm. And neither fulfills its potential when we do not recognize that they are both gifts from God.
I challenge you to trust God in ways that you never have before. To trust that what calm is in your life is a cherished blessing from God—and that the storm is too. To see both the valley and the mountain’s peak as opportunities of growth and communion with God. To trust that God is sovereign and full of love.
I challenge you.
I challenge you to be still and know He is God.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sidenote: Oh, Just To See His Face
I’m sitting here, blinking the tears away, watching this video. I’ve never had a Loved One go off to war. I’ve never experienced the stress, the anticipation, the constant discomfort that comes along with that uncertainty. I don’t know what it is to suddenly see someone that you feared you may never see again. And yet, in some way, I feel what they are feeling. I hurt as they are hurting. I am filled with joy just like them. The tears are welcome—because they are tears of assurance; they are tears of release. And the little boy. He runs to his Daddy, who wraps him in his arms and says, “I’ve missed you so much.” The little boy replies, “I missed you too, Daddy. Daddy, I love you.” “I love you too, Son.” I don’t know what that’s like. But I cry. I cry because on some level, I do know.
I’ve been away from my Father’s arms for so long. I’ve never seen his face. I’ve never been wrapped in his embrace. Sure, I know him on some level—and it’s a personal one for sure, but there are so many layers and dimensions that I cannot understand. So I live anxiously. I live with longing. I live with discomfort. I just want to see his face. I just want to run to him and be wrapped in his arms and to hear him say, “Son, I love you.” I want to weep tears of joy at our reunion.
I cannot wait for that day—when my Father, the Creator of time and space, welcomes me to spend eternity with him. It’s those little moments that bring me face-to-face with that longing. Little moments, like a mother hugging her soldier son; like a daughter seeing her father after years away. It’s those little moments that fill me with hope. Hope that someday, someday I will see his face.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
The Christ Suicide: Galatians 2:11-21
I can’t get over this passage. It’s been a week since my last post and I’ve been struggling with this portion of scripture continually since then. There are times when the Word of God absolutely arrests you. You can be going along, minding your own business and you read a passage and it just smacks you upside the head. It knocks you over and makes you come face to face with a message so gut-wrenching, so intense that you cannot get up and continue down your previous path. You get up a changed man. You are changed by the Gospel.
That is why I love the Word of God. That is why I love this passage.
(read the whole passage here)
Paul talks about his encounter with Peter (Cephas) in Antioch. Peter, a Jew, was living hypocritically. When other Jews weren’t around, he would live as a Gentile, but when Jews were present, he would live as Jew (and separated himself from the Gentiles that he had previously been hanging out with). Paul calls him out and asks him how he can mandate Gentiles to follow Jewish law when he, as a Jew, doesn’t even follow it.
How often do we hold others to a higher standard than we have for ourselves? How often are we so quick to ostracize someone because of their visible flaw when we ourselves are a jumble of invisible flaws?
NO ONE is justified by the works of the law—and yet we so easily find ourselves recounting the good things we have done and the righteous ways we have lived as if they make us more holy than simple justification by faith in Jesus Christ. It is here where we have some of our biggest hang-ups with the Gospel. We must acknowledge that we are only justified through faith in Jesus Christ, but yet we cannot loosen our grip on the importance we have placed on our works of the law.
Paul does a pretty good job of explaining this. When we are justified by Jesus Christ, we no longer rule our bodies, but it is Christ who lives within us. And we no longer live for the flesh, but we live our lives as unto God. It is because of Christ (and his love) dwelling inside of us and it is because we are living to God that we do good things.
We live uprightly because of Christ living inside of us, NOT Christ lives in us because we live uprightly.
That is the HUGE misunderstanding of justification by faith in Jesus Christ. I know a lot of people who are scared to death to think that we are saved by “faith”—and sometimes I think it’s a bit of a shakey ground to walk on. But when we truly have the faith in God—it will drive us to live as He desires us to live.
And when we sin, does that make Christ a sinner? NO! It merely reaffirms that we are human. I think God was pretty smart when he made the desires of the flesh. It is so easy to give into our flesh, to make a mistake, to sin. But that’s what reminds us of the beauty of Christ, the purity of Christ and the grace of Christ.
How much more wonderful is it to be justified by faith in Jesus Christ, than to try to be justified by following a code of conduct? When we misplace our emphasis from the grace of God to the works of the law we are robbing Christ of his Redemptive Act.
Why would Jesus come to earth, knowing that he would be beaten and stripped and hung on a cross, when we could just follow the law and be fine? Why would Jesus offer himself up as a sacrifice, if he was sacrificing for nothing?
Are we so bold as to allow for the culmination of Christ’s work to be degraded to an unnecessary suicide because of our pride for what we have accomplished?
Humbling.
Oh God, let me live in your grace and your justification. As you live through me, and as I live to You, let my actions be done out of love and out of proclamation of your sacrifice. Let me never become so full of myself that I would think that what I do can earn me a place in your Kingdom. But let me remember that what I do is a direct result of the redemptive work that you have done in me. That your death would constantly be heavy in my heart and at the forefront of my mind. That the new life you have given me be lived in the fullness of your grace and in the wonder of your love. You are my Savior, my only Savior.
So what about you? Have you struggled between the balance of faith and works? Have you struggled with accepting/rejecting someone because of who you perceive them to be?
Just trying to get it right,
Hermeneutical Dan
That is why I love the Word of God. That is why I love this passage.
[Gal 2:11-14, 19-21 ESV]
[11] But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. [12] For before certain men came from James, he was eating with the Gentiles; but when they came he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party. [13] And the rest of the Jews acted hypocritically along with him, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy. [14] But when I saw that their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before them all, "If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you force the Gentiles to live like Jews?" ... [19] For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. [20] I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. [21] I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.
(read the whole passage here)
Paul talks about his encounter with Peter (Cephas) in Antioch. Peter, a Jew, was living hypocritically. When other Jews weren’t around, he would live as a Gentile, but when Jews were present, he would live as Jew (and separated himself from the Gentiles that he had previously been hanging out with). Paul calls him out and asks him how he can mandate Gentiles to follow Jewish law when he, as a Jew, doesn’t even follow it.
How often do we hold others to a higher standard than we have for ourselves? How often are we so quick to ostracize someone because of their visible flaw when we ourselves are a jumble of invisible flaws?
NO ONE is justified by the works of the law—and yet we so easily find ourselves recounting the good things we have done and the righteous ways we have lived as if they make us more holy than simple justification by faith in Jesus Christ. It is here where we have some of our biggest hang-ups with the Gospel. We must acknowledge that we are only justified through faith in Jesus Christ, but yet we cannot loosen our grip on the importance we have placed on our works of the law.
Paul does a pretty good job of explaining this. When we are justified by Jesus Christ, we no longer rule our bodies, but it is Christ who lives within us. And we no longer live for the flesh, but we live our lives as unto God. It is because of Christ (and his love) dwelling inside of us and it is because we are living to God that we do good things.
We live uprightly because of Christ living inside of us, NOT Christ lives in us because we live uprightly.
That is the HUGE misunderstanding of justification by faith in Jesus Christ. I know a lot of people who are scared to death to think that we are saved by “faith”—and sometimes I think it’s a bit of a shakey ground to walk on. But when we truly have the faith in God—it will drive us to live as He desires us to live.
And when we sin, does that make Christ a sinner? NO! It merely reaffirms that we are human. I think God was pretty smart when he made the desires of the flesh. It is so easy to give into our flesh, to make a mistake, to sin. But that’s what reminds us of the beauty of Christ, the purity of Christ and the grace of Christ.
How much more wonderful is it to be justified by faith in Jesus Christ, than to try to be justified by following a code of conduct? When we misplace our emphasis from the grace of God to the works of the law we are robbing Christ of his Redemptive Act.
Why would Jesus come to earth, knowing that he would be beaten and stripped and hung on a cross, when we could just follow the law and be fine? Why would Jesus offer himself up as a sacrifice, if he was sacrificing for nothing?
Are we so bold as to allow for the culmination of Christ’s work to be degraded to an unnecessary suicide because of our pride for what we have accomplished?
Humbling.
Oh God, let me live in your grace and your justification. As you live through me, and as I live to You, let my actions be done out of love and out of proclamation of your sacrifice. Let me never become so full of myself that I would think that what I do can earn me a place in your Kingdom. But let me remember that what I do is a direct result of the redemptive work that you have done in me. That your death would constantly be heavy in my heart and at the forefront of my mind. That the new life you have given me be lived in the fullness of your grace and in the wonder of your love. You are my Savior, my only Savior.
So what about you? Have you struggled between the balance of faith and works? Have you struggled with accepting/rejecting someone because of who you perceive them to be?
Just trying to get it right,
Hermeneutical Dan
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Aside: Letter from SCL author, Jon Acuff
Ok, ok, I haven't been this excited about something so insignificant in a very long time. Well, actually, not since Monday when we went to my favorite Mexican restaurant and I got an out-of-this-world grilled chicken torta. But I haven't been this excited SINCE THEN.
So, Stuff Christians Like is a blog that I read every day. It is a hilarious satirical look at Christian life. Jon Acuff is the author (also author of the book Stuff Christians Like--which I highly recommend, buy it here) and in one of his recent posts, he mentioned how he would like to feature some guest posts. So he laid out the rules for a guest post and asked for entries to be sent in.
Well, I immediately sat down and wrote a guest post and sent it in. And lo and behold, he sent me a reply!!! And that is what I'm so excited about!!! No, no, he didn't say he was going to publish my post--yet. But the fact that he took the time to send me a reply (one that had my name in it, no less) made me appreciate him and his blog all the more.
It was a whopping 3 sentences long, and I reveled every word of it. He thanked me for sharing my creativity and told me he would let me know if it ends up going on SCL (which, I know probably means it won't but WHO CARES!?!? He wrote me back!)
So, that is why I'm excited.
Yeah, big whoop, you may say.
But I have a real-life email from Jon Acuff.
What now, huh?!...
So, Stuff Christians Like is a blog that I read every day. It is a hilarious satirical look at Christian life. Jon Acuff is the author (also author of the book Stuff Christians Like--which I highly recommend, buy it here) and in one of his recent posts, he mentioned how he would like to feature some guest posts. So he laid out the rules for a guest post and asked for entries to be sent in.
Well, I immediately sat down and wrote a guest post and sent it in. And lo and behold, he sent me a reply!!! And that is what I'm so excited about!!! No, no, he didn't say he was going to publish my post--yet. But the fact that he took the time to send me a reply (one that had my name in it, no less) made me appreciate him and his blog all the more.
It was a whopping 3 sentences long, and I reveled every word of it. He thanked me for sharing my creativity and told me he would let me know if it ends up going on SCL (which, I know probably means it won't but WHO CARES!?!? He wrote me back!)
So, that is why I'm excited.
Yeah, big whoop, you may say.
But I have a real-life email from Jon Acuff.
What now, huh?!...
Friday, July 9, 2010
The Risk of Running in Vain: Galatians 2:1-10
At the beginning of chapter two, we see the continuation of Paul's history. Except there is a 14-year gap. Paul had been ministering in Syria and Cilicia and doesn't really record much about it here except that he didn't go back to Jerusalem during that time. So he finally makes his way to Jerusalem because of a revelation that he had--in order to weigh it against the counsil of a few influentials to insure that he was not wandering into LaLa Land.
And that's where we pick up:
(Read the rest of this passage here, because once again, I don't want to bog the blog.)
You know, Paul is a pretty smart cookie. He receives this revelation and instead of immediately proclaiming it to He Who Hath Ears, he decides to weigh it against godly counsil. I think a pit fall of many preachers is that sometimes the first time they audibly hear something "from God" is when it's coming out of their mouth when they're standing in the pulpit. Now, I'm not above thinking that God can cause spiritual epiphanies, because I know that he does that. But the majority of the time those epiphanies need to be studied out and weighed against the Word of God and spiritual authority. They need to be thought over and prayed over and considered very carefully before they are preached as "gospel."
But Paul's not like that. He knows better than that. So, he takes this revelation to the Headquarters of the First Church, Jerusalem. There, he meets privately with a few influential people, explaining this revelation (which was the proclaiming of the Gospel to Gentiles). Paul was geniunely desiring to do the work of God and he just checking himself to make sure that he was not "running in vain." How great would the impact have been if he had just ran a marathon in the wrong direction? How much damage would have been done to the Church? How often does that happen today? (Wow, let's insert Altar Call here.)
So the influential people heard Paul out. But, there were some others who had slipped their way in. Their sole purpose was "to spy out [the] freedom that we have in Christ." And they were doing this so that they could attempt to bring Paul back into slavery--or the law that the Jewish Christians were still following.
Paul is borderline superhero. He immediately sniffs these people out and realizes their, shall I say, demonic intent and does not yeild in submission to them AT ALL. Why? Because he wanted to make sure that the Gospel was being preserved in it's purest form. He wanted an untainted Gospel to spread around the world.
I won't lie. I was going to use verses 4 and 5 as the bulk of this blog because, I'll be honest, I love to rip on those who try to distort the Gospel by mandating unnecessary submission to laws from which Jesus brought us freedom. But something else completely grabbed my attention while I was studying this passage--and I'm sure I'll have the opportunity to rip on those Accursed People (Paul's words, not mine) later.
Do you see how important the aspect of good Christian counsil is to Paul? He weighs the validity of his revelation on the examination and opinion of a few influential men. He trusts them with task of confirming this sacred conversation between him and God.
Luckily, as we read through the rest of this passage to verse 10, we see that these influential men (and James, Cephas and John) saw the sincerity of Paul and his adherence to the Gospel of Christ and the fact that he had been entrusted with the Gospel for the Gentiles--and they accepted him. They extended the right hand of fellowship to him. They granted him the power to preach his revelation--this Gospel of Christ, to the Gentiles and to the poor.
We could all learn from the wisdom of Paul. We could all benefit from having someone (or multiple someones) in our life who are a spiritual sounding board for our "divine" epiphanies. I am very lucky to have multiple people in my life like this. My mentor has always been willing to give me a reality check when I come up with some crazy, earth-shattering revelation (not that I'm a crazy person, I just have a wild imagination, ok?!). He is also there to encourage me when I have a thought that is worth something. He provokes study and thought, causing my ideas to grow and develop far past anything they would have blossomed into without proper care. I have friends and peers who walk largely down the same spiritual path as me and we are constantly bouncing ideas and thoughts off of each other. We are each other's worst critics and each others biggest fans. I am so thankful to have people that I can trust with the voice of my innermost being.
Now, I must continually strive to keep these checks and balances in place. It is very easy for me to hear something from God and immediately want to act on it. But I would rather map my course out before I run too far in vain.
So what about you? Have you ever caught yourself running with an idea only to realize that you were running in vain? Do you have people in your life that you can trust with the ideas that no one else will ever hear? Are you that person to someone else, if so, how do you handle that responsibility?
Just trying to get it right,
Hermeneutical Dan
And that's where we pick up:
[Gal 2:1-5 ESV]
[1] Then after fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, taking Titus along with me. [2] I went up because of a revelation and set before them (though privately before those who seemed influential) the gospel that I proclaim among the Gentiles, in order to make sure I was not running or had not run in vain. [3] But even Titus, who was with me, was not forced to be circumcised, though he was a Greek. [4] Yet because of false brothers secretly brought in--who slipped in to spy out our freedom that we have in Christ Jesus, so that they might bring us into slavery-- [5] to them we did not yield in submission even for a moment, so that the truth of the gospel might be preserved for you.
(Read the rest of this passage here, because once again, I don't want to bog the blog.)
You know, Paul is a pretty smart cookie. He receives this revelation and instead of immediately proclaiming it to He Who Hath Ears, he decides to weigh it against godly counsil. I think a pit fall of many preachers is that sometimes the first time they audibly hear something "from God" is when it's coming out of their mouth when they're standing in the pulpit. Now, I'm not above thinking that God can cause spiritual epiphanies, because I know that he does that. But the majority of the time those epiphanies need to be studied out and weighed against the Word of God and spiritual authority. They need to be thought over and prayed over and considered very carefully before they are preached as "gospel."
But Paul's not like that. He knows better than that. So, he takes this revelation to the Headquarters of the First Church, Jerusalem. There, he meets privately with a few influential people, explaining this revelation (which was the proclaiming of the Gospel to Gentiles). Paul was geniunely desiring to do the work of God and he just checking himself to make sure that he was not "running in vain." How great would the impact have been if he had just ran a marathon in the wrong direction? How much damage would have been done to the Church? How often does that happen today? (Wow, let's insert Altar Call here.)
So the influential people heard Paul out. But, there were some others who had slipped their way in. Their sole purpose was "to spy out [the] freedom that we have in Christ." And they were doing this so that they could attempt to bring Paul back into slavery--or the law that the Jewish Christians were still following.
Paul is borderline superhero. He immediately sniffs these people out and realizes their, shall I say, demonic intent and does not yeild in submission to them AT ALL. Why? Because he wanted to make sure that the Gospel was being preserved in it's purest form. He wanted an untainted Gospel to spread around the world.
I won't lie. I was going to use verses 4 and 5 as the bulk of this blog because, I'll be honest, I love to rip on those who try to distort the Gospel by mandating unnecessary submission to laws from which Jesus brought us freedom. But something else completely grabbed my attention while I was studying this passage--and I'm sure I'll have the opportunity to rip on those Accursed People (Paul's words, not mine) later.
Do you see how important the aspect of good Christian counsil is to Paul? He weighs the validity of his revelation on the examination and opinion of a few influential men. He trusts them with task of confirming this sacred conversation between him and God.
Luckily, as we read through the rest of this passage to verse 10, we see that these influential men (and James, Cephas and John) saw the sincerity of Paul and his adherence to the Gospel of Christ and the fact that he had been entrusted with the Gospel for the Gentiles--and they accepted him. They extended the right hand of fellowship to him. They granted him the power to preach his revelation--this Gospel of Christ, to the Gentiles and to the poor.
We could all learn from the wisdom of Paul. We could all benefit from having someone (or multiple someones) in our life who are a spiritual sounding board for our "divine" epiphanies. I am very lucky to have multiple people in my life like this. My mentor has always been willing to give me a reality check when I come up with some crazy, earth-shattering revelation (not that I'm a crazy person, I just have a wild imagination, ok?!). He is also there to encourage me when I have a thought that is worth something. He provokes study and thought, causing my ideas to grow and develop far past anything they would have blossomed into without proper care. I have friends and peers who walk largely down the same spiritual path as me and we are constantly bouncing ideas and thoughts off of each other. We are each other's worst critics and each others biggest fans. I am so thankful to have people that I can trust with the voice of my innermost being.
Now, I must continually strive to keep these checks and balances in place. It is very easy for me to hear something from God and immediately want to act on it. But I would rather map my course out before I run too far in vain.
So what about you? Have you ever caught yourself running with an idea only to realize that you were running in vain? Do you have people in your life that you can trust with the ideas that no one else will ever hear? Are you that person to someone else, if so, how do you handle that responsibility?
Just trying to get it right,
Hermeneutical Dan
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)