Ping-Pong

How dare I?

It'll be all right. I'll think about that later.

There's more than this. I know it. He has more for me. He promised.

Stop it. Right now is calling.

...

Ignorance is bliss. Forgiveness is always there on the other side, anyway. Plus, you've already made mistakes. We'll just consider this whole thing a package deal.

At this point there is no ignorance. There is only willful, intentional disobedience, and to call it anything else wouldn't even be a respectable attempt to lie to myself.

You think too much. Just stop thinking. God would forgive a moment of forgetfulness, no?

Of course He would! But can't you see that's not the point!? More than forgiveness, I desire repentance! I want less reasons for Christ to have to forgive me! Shut your mouth and slay thyself.

...

Why do you stay? Why does even the name of Christ not keep your shadow from being cast over me? Why does your darkness continually loom over my head?

Because as much as you want me to leave, you've already proved that you want me to remain. Your will is weak and slowly cracking, and I do not need more than a small sliver to wedge myself inside.

This is God we're talking about here. Maker of every atom which dares not even spin without first asking His permission. Commander of every gale and all its raindrops, He tells them not only stop, but to begin raging. Every speck of light in thunder being told, "Here, and not there." Every sonic crack making people run from the sheer terror of simply experiencing its deafening might, and might I defy this God? This God Whose throne is surrounded by exponentially more terrifying iterations of these meek earthly detonations, and I dare willfully turn my back before the One Who gives my ankles the ability to twist? Somehow, this pathetically microscopic sack of water and carbon, when faced with the immediate, unquestioning obedience of a Creation that dwarfs its existence, shakes its fist at the heavens and says, "I deny You, Mountain-Mover." And yet, this ant dares defy Mt. Everest. What frame of rational thought exists to even conceptualize this kind of rebellion? I have decided - there is none.

...

This is You we're talking about here. And I've already done more than enough to break Your heart. Please don't leave me. But more than forgiveness, I ask for repentance. Would You let me walk away? You are God, and, right now, I'm not the one who gets to decide what's best for me, no matter how bad I want it. After all, of what worth is denying myself and following when it costs me little? Some, I admit. But, oh, the immeasurable reward for those who choose You when storms like these rage. Oh, Storm-Maker, I know not how to give You my will for longer than the few seconds ahead, but for these few moments, it is Yours. And when he shows his face again, as he will not long from now, may I be humbled by thunder once again.

---

How dare I?

Read More

Open-Handed Entitlement

A few weeks ago, I was in Sibiu, Romania. It was one of my family's last days in the motherland, and we were enjoying the city that had once been voted the Cultural Capital of Europe. And in case you're wondering why some town you've never heard of in a country you think is a part of Italy got that title, it's because of the many nations that gather in the city year-round for festivals and events. Plus, it's beautiful to a level that goes beyond ridonkulous.

We sat down at a little restaurant away from the crowds and ordered some food. I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I got to the sink to wash my hands, I stuck my hand underneath the soap dispenser and waited. And waited. It took me a bit of time to figure out that this soap dispenser was, in fact, not automatic - a fact that came as a bit of a surprise considering the reality that most of them nowadays are.

Our society is teaching us things. Sometimes, it's small stuff, like sticking out an open hand and expecting a dollop of soap to magically be squished out of a dispenser. Other times, we stick out an open hand and expect it to be filled with free money from the government so that we can pay for school. Or housing. Or (insert whatever you want right here). I mean, that's fine, right? We do deserve it, after all. We've worked so hard to, uh... you know, exist. We should be rewarded for our efforts!

There are good things about my generation. Plenty. We work together well. We're huge on innovation. We love approaching age-old issues with fresh perspectives. However, one of our greatest disadvantages lies wrapped in one word: entitlement. We expect things to just be handed to us. When we get those things, we aren't super grateful, and when we don't, we get angry. We are the generation that was raised to think that everybody's a winner, we can be anything we want, and we shouldn't have to work as hard as our parents worked. 

For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. (Romans 3)

So, good news - the truth is, we're right! We are entitled! We are entitled to all that comes with falling short of the glory of God, namely, death. That's right, because of the excellent strides we've made in loving sin and showing our disrespect for God by doing everything that He told us not to, we get to stick out our hand and expect eternal torment and punishment for everything we've done to earn it with all the hours we've put in to this daily grind of sin. Yay!

*Puts sarcasm aside.*

Dear friends, approaching faith in Jesus Christ by feeling deserving of anything more than God's wrath is destruction. Not only is it flat out unBiblical to expect God to give you a fancy car, the perfect job, and great health 'till the day you die of old age in your sleep, but it sets us up for great disappointment. 

"In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16)

Every single thing that God gives us is a gift, from the beating of your heart to the strength in your legs. The oxygen in your lung branches to the slow growth of your fingernails: gifts. The alarm clock that wakes you up and the waking hours to serve Christ that face you after it does: gifts. The struggles of life that break us to be rebuilt and the pain that makes us hope for the rest of Heaven's gates: gifts. These gifts, in fact, force us to face the Gift-Giver, Who, through the merits of His own grace and perfection, becomes the only One actually entitled to blessing. So, if you stick out your open hand, expect it to be filled with the hand of someone who needs to be pulled up.

This is your entitlement.

Read More

Gaudy, But No God

You may think that I have gotten lazy and not posted anything on this dear website of mine, but au contrair, dear, dear reader (please read that with all of the anger it's due). Though I have been out of the country for the past month, I've made sure that I would have some stored-up articles ready to be posted every week. I simply have not announced them, o impassioned follower of Kingdom Eyes. I do believe I am allowed to take a vacation, no? (I really need to start being nicer.) I went to Romania.

Let's start off by saying that you need to stop everything you're doing right now, buy a plane ticket, and go to Romania. Like, right now. It's that great. I truly believe it is one of the most hidden gems of geographical and historical beauty that exists in the world. And yes, I know it is hidden because when I tell people my family is from Romania, they think I'm some Italian or something.

Anyway, woven into the history of this great nation is its involvement with the Eastern Orthodox church. Almost all of the great monasteries, cathedrals, and monuments scattered throughout Romania are Orthodox constructions, and they present a very unique and distinctive look and feel when compared to the religious buildings of other countries.

I won't dive into all of the difficulties and problems I have with the Orthodox church, but I will simply give an example that might get you to see what has molded my view of it:

My family had the opportunity to spend time with a group of Orthodox priests and monks, visiting various monasteries and churches. Contrasting with the often clean, un-cluttered look of Catholic cathedrals, stepping into an Orthodox church consists of first being affronted with the overwhelming smell that results from burning incense in a small room for hundreds of years. Once your eyes adjust to the light, you are bombarded with floor-to-ceiling, multi-colored, gold-laden depictions of Biblical characters and stories, painted in the same Byzantine art style that has existed for centuries. There you will find golden icons, relics, and artifacts which people touch, kiss, and rub their religious products all over for the betterment of their loved ones, all in accordance with their "holy tradition". But above all this noise, I was impressed with one important detail:

It was small.

This monumental building with all of its religious splendor could fit no more than perhaps 30 people inside of it. Don't get me wrong: from the outside, it was quite sizeable. But venturing to the inside, you find that man's attempt to create religious splendor crowds out the very people that would come to worship in this place. In the exorbitant amount of money spent to build and maintain this monstrosity of a building, there is no room for the needy and searching soul that might come to its doors.

Jesus left the temple and was going away, when his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. But he answered them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” (Matthew 24)

O God, that we might not become obsessed with appearance and pride and forget the poor man who lives in brokenness. Let not our buildings and services become theater, but a home and a place for family to come and fellowship. Rebuke our desire for architectural and visual majesty at the cost of the orphan. If we must tear down our concrete so we may have bricks for the widow's home, let it be so.

You have already given us the most sophisticated temple, constructed by Your own hands; let us not frustrate ourselves in the futility of making something better.

Read More

5 Things Christians Should Start Saying

Recently, I've seen a lot of good literature and an equal amount of terrible literature in the blogosphere (I admit, I was just looking for a reason to use "blogosphere" in a sentence). Considering the age range of my peers, a lot of the articles that they post and re-post on the profiles of their social media accounts have to do with Christian dating, courtship, and marriage. Solid. That's an area that definitely needs a lot of reflection and redefinition. I also see a lot of blog posts about modern worship and church body behaviors. Great. I'm really excited to see a generation that wants to make sure they're doing things in the right way.

However, throughout a lot of these blogs, there's an air of cynicism and jadedness that I see in the world of online writing (to which I am often a contributor, I must admit). People have grown up being surrounded with bad examples of Christian living, and they seek to condemn some obviously bad practices and habits. Here are some article titles and links, so you get the feeling of what I'm talking about:

"5 Things Christians Should Stop Saying"

"Top 10 Christian Cliches We Should Probably Stop Using–Unless We Really Mean It"

"10 Christian Clichés To Avoid Like the Plague"

I want to start off by saying that I agree. Christians rely on cliches and overused phrases much too often. But the advice can leave us in a tough spot, because, while we are being told what not to do, we are never given wisdom on what we should do.  I am a firm believer that the Christian life consists not only of throwing off vice, but pursuing virtue.

"So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart." (2 Timothy 2, emphasis added)

Paul tells Timothy not only to run away from the evil, but to run to the good. Being told what not to say begs the question, "What should we be saying?" So, in an effort to approach things like every blog on the entire stinking internet does nowadays, I'm going to make my own list - a list of stuff Christians should say.

"Heaven is not a place for those who are afraid of hell; it’s a place for those who love God."

This is actually a quote from Matt Chandler's Explicit Gospel, but the point made here is invaluable. Our culture is saturated with this idea that salvation simply serves the purpose of fire insurance. The truth of the matter is that heaven is for those who made the choice to pursue and love Christ while here on this earth. It will be a place to celebrate the love of God for eternity, and if you didn't enjoy doing that here, it won't be your thing millennia from now.

"I don't pretend to understand what you're going through, but I serve a God Who does."

When people are broken and hurting, they're looking for someone who understands and can sympathize with their struggle, but it does no good for a well-meaning Christian to tell them, "I know your pain," if they've never experienced the matter that they are wrestling with. However, relating things back to a God Who experienced every kind of pain imaginable by taking on the sins of the world lets them know that they are not alone in their suffering, and that, rather than looking to you for comfort, they will find the pinnacle of comfort in the arms of Christ.

"You were worth the ultimate sacrifice."

Despite our culture's madly desperate attempts to teach our youth that they have worth, our society's children and adults are drowning in an inability to see their value because of the people who treat them like the dust beneath their soles. Telling someone the truth means little unless it is proved with action, and people will continue to believe they are worth nothing when that is all they've experienced, no matter how many megaphones and commercials we shout self-affirmation from. The ultimate proof of God's belief in our worth was in His death. No lie can disprove the truth that you are worth the Calvary Road.

"You are not a good person."

Sometimes, we try to prove our worth by qualifying it with saying that we are all, in our heart of hearts, good people. Bologna. Anyone with a truly critical eye can recognize that, at the depths of our souls, we desire only evil. One of the most freeing things is to come to terms with the fact that we aren't good, we've never been good, we can never be good, and that there was Someone Who died so that our non-goodness could be forgiven and we could be made right with God.

"Will you forgive me?"

It's hard to apologize. It's probably one of the most difficult things that could ever be done in the context of human relationships. It requires humility and vulnerability. However, one cannot stop at simply saying, "I'm sorry." I realize that this is, in and of itself, ridiculously hard. But when you ask someone to forgive you, you let go of any I'm-sorry-but (fill in the blank). It lets the other person know that the decision for peace in your relationship belongs to them. It is total and complete vulnerability, and it shows that you are serious about your contrition, and aren't simply doing it because you know you probably should.

This is by no means a comprehensive list of things we should be saying, but it's a start. This world has enough stop-doing-this. We need some start-doing-this. Go ahead, find some of your own!

Read More

The Confidence of Sonship

Once again, I sat in the chairs near Chapel by The Lake - my home away from home butted up against the waters of the intracoastal. Dear reader, I know I've bored you with speaking of this place many times, so I'll spare you details as to the setting.

I sat there and saw a mother and her daughter gather next to the intracoastal wall, probably to have lunch or something of that nature. Shortly after seeing them, I saw another man approach. He was wearing green surgical scrubs - the kind you see high-fallutin' surgeons wear. Granted, anyone can wear surgical scrubs and make themselves look like a doctor (this is coming from the guy who, as a student, had patients think I was a doctor simply because I was the only male in the room). However, this man was giving off surgeon-y vibes. Y'know, the kind of person you wouldn't freak out at if you saw a scalpel in their pocket.

As he walked up to his family, the daughter saw him, took off running from her mother, and jumped into her dad's arms.

Let's get something straight. If I were to run up to this guy and try to jump into his arms, I'd probably find that scalpel in my spleen before I got the chance to even think it. Even if one of his colleagues or trusted friends were to try the same thing, it would just come off unnatural and pretty creepy. The man is a surgeon. And one does not treat someone of such high status with that kind of irreverence and creepiness. For almost anyone else, the only appropriate response to greeting this man includes the use of titles, firm handshakes, and honor (especially cuz he was Asian [white boy said whaaaaa?]).

"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Hebrews 4)

One does not simply approach the Creator of the universe; the Maker of all that is with anything less than strict use of titles, firmly bowed knees, and deep honor.

That is, unless, you are His child.

See, sons and daughters are in a special position - they get to skip the formalities. Notice, I did not say that they were able to skip the honor. Rather, they are able to skip the handshakes and offering of gifts and simply run straight into their Father's arms.

When we are broken by sin, the temptation for us as believers is to recognize the judgment and wrath of God without having a proper view of His grace and forgiveness. This establishes a heart-wrenching, cold-shouldered distance between us and this Judge of a God. However, in these depths of desperation, the soul cannot bear the weight of formalities, and must be given the freedom to run into the tight and warm embrace of a kind Father.

And so, this is what has been described as the Scandal of Grace - that we are adopted, made right with God, and allowed to boldly approach Him in a way no one else is allowed to because of His ultimate sacrifice. These are the privileges of being made a part of the family of God. Will you today run into the arms of your Father, or will you continue to believe that He only holds judgment for you?

In the words of the poet Gethsemane: "More than a Judge, my God is a Lover."

Read More

Hipster Resolutions

So, I understand that ministry majors and the layman Christian who is passionate about the Scriptures have recently been getting a little absorbed in ancient theologians and the writings of great believers who are now long dead. I think there are pro's and con's to this movement of looking to the past for great theology and substance of truth:

Pro: Some of these men (think Jonathan Edwards, Martin Luther, St. Augustine, Charles Spurgeon, John Owens, C.S. Lewis, etc) wrote and thought about some of the most profound truths that mankind has ever been able to stumble upon.

Con: We tend to pedestal-ize these men to a position they cannot deserve. The truths they wrote about were not the result of their own brilliance, but were outworkings of the unchanging truths found in the same Bible available to all mankind.

Pro: Though these men were great, we see that they wrestled with the same faith-shaking issues we do: depression, doubt, sin, and heartache. In this, we can find hope for ourselves that God's grace works powerfully in weak men.

Con: I feel that much of the desire to quote old literature and respect old men is a result of our generation's hipster-driven love for the oh-so-vintage-retro. The problem with this is that, more often than not, our love for this type of literature is more a matter of intellectual "I-quoted-John-Calvin-before-he-was-cool" pride than it is a realization of the profound nature of what these men discussed. We seek witty quips to share over coffee rather than weighty truths to cry over when praying through despair.

Pro: These men were driven in their pursuit of holiness and the presence of God. Many of them had a solid grasp of the gravity of sin and of the greatness of God, and I'm stoked to hear our generation read about men who were serious about righteousness in a culture where everything slides.

Con: We make it out as if these men lived in an age where everything was better than it is now. We think that theologians of the past contributed towards a "golden age" of the church. The reality is that they had a ton of problems, too, but they were just different ones than we have now.

That being said, I've come to love one particular work of literature written by a 19-year-old Jonathan Edwards, a great preacher of old who is known for a sermon called, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." The work that I speak of is simply called, "The Resolutions of Jonathan Edwards," which is simply a collection of decisions that Edwards made when he was young in the faith. We find decisions like these:

#37: "Resolved, to inquire every night, as I am going to bed, wherein I have been negligent, what sin I have committed, and wherein I have denied myself: also at the end of every week, month and year."

or,

#52: "Resolved, that I will live just so as I can think I shall wish I had done, supposing I live to old age."

and,

#56: "Resolved, never to give over, nor in the least to slacken my fight with my corruptions, however unsuccessful I may be."

There are 70 of these resolutions. Some of them are a bit strange, and perhaps unbiblical, ("Resolved, never to speak anything that is ridiculous, sportive, or matter of laughter on the Lord’s day.") but they reflect something crucial to the walk of faith.

"If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." (Colossians 3, emphasis added)

We are commanded to set our minds on matters of the divine, heavenly order. And what else does "setting your mind" mean than to willfully make a decision to pursue holiness in a grace-driven way, to make conviction-minded choices that will lead us more near holiness, and to be intentional about honoring God with purposeful resolutions that will make us more like Him?

Colossians 3 goes on to say that we are to

"Put to death therefore what is earthly in you..."

One does not put something to death by making kinda-sorta wishy-washy choices. This act of killing must be willful, persistent, vigilant, and intentional. And so I end with one last resolution:

"Resolved, to live with all my might, while I do live."

Read More

Bird Turd-ed Rationalizing

I cleaned the bird turd off my car today.

To avoid the risk of sounding like I'm updating some social media status with a mundane detail of my life (think I'm-eating-a-sandwich type of thing), I'm going to explain my aforementioned comment a bit more.

This week, I had to be at church on Sunday morning about an hour early to help prepare for the worship service. One of the perks of showing up to church early is getting a primo parking spot. I'm talking the kind of spot where it's so close to the door, the walk doesn't even make you break a sweat in 95 degree weather in jeans and a button up. Now that's what I call living. Upon visualizing this parking spot, I got all excited:

"Boy, has Jesus shined His light on me! This parking spot is top-notch, good sir!"

This joyous thought process was interrupted by quite the intrusive thought:

"Shouldn't you give up that spot for someone else?"

But fear not! I would never be persuaded by such a sneaky conviction!

"No, of course not! I'm here early for one of the first times in my 10+ years of coming to this church! Why would I give my spot up? Plus, by parking here, I'm probably helping someone else along in their path to spiritual growth. Having them park farther away from the church will be a good tool to teach them patience! (I'm not kidding you, this is actually what I was thinking.)"

So I slid into the parking spot and walked into church without a drop of sweat and the most smug of all faces. Everything was great! Well, yesterday, I learned that the early bird actually just gets the bird turd. When I walked out of church and headed to my car, I was flabbergasted to find a... gift on my car. Or several gifts, rather. It seemed like an entire legion of pigeons had eaten way too much and then decided to role-play as World War II Bombers for the entire church service directly over my car. The war woulda been won a lot quicker if there were more bombers as talented as those pigeons.

"Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." (Philippians 2)

I believe that's what they call getting roasted by the Scriptures. I love how, when the provocation of the Spirit prompts us to do something right, we immediately begin to rationalize it so we can attempt to make ourselves the exception to the rule. And when I say that I love that, what I'm saying is I want to punch that in the face-hole.

Anyhow, I think that God is working on sanctifying me and making me look more and more like Him. In the meantime, I guess I'll have to accept the consequences for my sin, keep cleaning the bird turd off my car, and learn to give up that parking spot.

Read More