He's Not Wicked, He's My Friend

For many people, the thing that makes Christianity hard to believe is the miracle stories — talking donkeys, burning bushes, and walking dead people.

But for another group of people the hard thing is the people they meet. This can be true for both non-Christians and Christians, and it's the latter that I want to talk about.

For Christians, likable non-Christians can be a strong anti-apologetic. Once we leave our Christian enclaves, we run into nice Muslims, homosexuals, and atheists, and it's hard to think that these people are "wicked sinners" who deserve hell. I've been there. Some of the nicest people I've ever met were Mormons. I've got friends and family living a gay lifestyle. I care about a number of people whose philosophy of religion can be summed up as "meh."

These people make us want to believe that big chunks of Christianity aren't true. Jesus rose from the dead? Sure, fine. God is love? Cool. There will be a judgment after which the unbelievers will be cast away and punished forever? Whoa, wait a minute, I don't like that one.

There are two very important things that we have to keep in mind when we struggle with this.

First, we didn't just come up with this. People ask how we can believe in terrible things like hell. I counter that I believe it for the same reason I believe if you step off a cliff you'll fall to your death — it's true. The truth isn't always nice. Important truths frequently aren't.

We didn't just sit around making up a theology and decided we needed something to do with the "others." We didn't decide that Jesus is the only way to God. We didn't decide that there would be a judgment. We didn't just make up everlasting punishment for unbelievers. Jesus said that.

If we believe Jesus rose from the dead we have to accept that he pointed to that as a vindication of all of his work and teaching. And he taught that one day he would have to tell many people, "Depart from me, I never knew you."

Secondly, we have to remember that, as much as we hate this truth, God hates it more.

CS Lewis put it this way: "I said glibly a moment ago that i would pay 'any price' to remove this doctrine [of hell]. I lied. I could not pay one-thousandth part of the price that God has already paid to remove the fact [of it]" (The Problem of Pain, emphasis added).

God paid a high price to keep people from going to hell. And then he told us to go tell everybody about it.

So don't let your love of your non-Christian friends and family make you shy away from the truth of the gospel. Make it make you determined to share with them the good news:

We're all wicked sinners, but while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Let's Stop Pretending We Believe in Jesus

Do you believe in Santa Claus? Of course not. But you kind of act like you do.

You've told your kids about Santa Claus. You've told stories about him. You've sang songs about him. You probably even left him cookies at one time or another.

But kids? They stay up late trying to catch sight of him. They write him letters. They change their behavior because he's watching. They believe in Santa Claus.

So do you believe in Jesus? Do you depend on the fact that Jesus is Lord of all and that he died for your sins and rose from the dead? Do you live like his rules matter?

Do you believe, or do you just act like you do?

Are you good to your family? Kind to your neighbor? Do you work hard? "Do not even pagans do that?"

What does belief look like? "By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice ... even though God had said to him, 'It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.' Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead" (Heb 11:17-19). Abraham acted on his belief.

Or take Rahab, who helped the spies and gave up her city because she believed what God has said — that the land was being given to Israel (Josh 2).

Belief is doing the hard stuff because you believe what God has said is true.

Is it true that Jesus said lust was sexual immorality? How has this affected your magazine subscriptions or movie tickets?

Is it true that "the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil"? How has this affected your attitude toward your job?

Are we to "lend" without expecting to be repaid and submit to one another out of reverence to Christ? How has this affected how you live your life?

If all of these things are true, and if we say, "Jesus is Lord," do we act like he is our Lord?

"You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that — and shudder." Don't "believe." Don't pretend the gospel is true. Act on it.

— James 2

Jesus is Lord

It's the first and most basic creed of the Christian faith: Jesus is Lord.

It's our answer to sin. Specifically, Jesus is my Lord. Jesus is the king of my life. I believe what he says — about me and everything else. I'm agreeing to live my life his way to the best of my ability.

It's the answer to the pain of this world, too.

When we are abused because of our faith, when we're faced with temptation or trial, when the storms of life seem like they're going to overwhelm us "in your hearts revere Christ as Lord" (1 Pet 3:15).

If saving faith comes from "Jesus is Lord of my life," living faith comes from "Jesus is Lord of everything." He doesn't just direct our lives. He orders the universe.

We may not always understand what is going on. We may wonder why God is allowing it. When we feel adrift, alone, and abandoned, we have to remind ourselves "Jesus is Lord."

If we can do that, we can remain calm in the midst of the storm. And people will notice. That's why the next sentence is "Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have."

When people see our hope, our faith, our ability to rely on the fact that Jesus rules the universe, they'll want to know why we can be so calm in the midst of the storm. At that point they're asking us to tell them about Jesus. It doesn't get any better than that.

Life and Death in a Fallen World

Last week we buried a 25-year-old. Her three-year-old will grow up only knowing Mommy from stories and a few cellphone videos. Of course, she's not the only young person to die. There are a lot of people burying their babies — be they 4 or 54. Her mother (my cousin) is heartbroken. It's horrible when parents have to bury their children. It feels so wrong.

How do we deal with the pain and evil in this world? What can we say to the hurting?

There are lots of books about the problem of evil. CS Lewis' The Problem of Pain is the best I've found, but there are many good ones.

But they're all useless right now. When people are hurting, they don't want — or need — careful reasoned arguments. They aren't even capable of processing them. While the heart is hurting, the head has a hard time listening.

So what can we say?

It's ok to be sad, and it's ok to be angry. It feels wrong for parents to bury their children because it is wrong. That is not the way it's supposed to be. This isn't the way this world is supposed to be. The pain, the grief, the sin — it isn't supposed to be here.

This world is broken, and we all suffer because of it.

So what do we tell each other, and ourselves, when the pain threatens to overwhelm us?

God is good. You knew it before. It hasn't changed now.

God is good.
God is powerful.
God has a plan.

He has gone to a great deal of trouble to fix the mess we've made. The time has not yet come, but soon he will replace this world with one where everything is just the way it's supposed to be.

In the meantime, let the pain remind us that this world is broken. Hate this world. This is not the way it's supposed to be. Look forward to the day, long for the day, when all things will be made new. Right now we weep, and God weeps with us. But one day he will wipe away every tear.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Could the Holy Spirit Have Died on the Cross?

I want to say up front that this isn't original to me. I read it somewhere, and I'd love to give them credit, but I can't find where I saw it. But it was interesting, so I wanted to share it here.

The basic question is this: When God became a man to die on the cross, did it have to be the Son? Could the Father or the Spirit have been incarnated instead?

It's something to neat ponder, but it sounds like it might be a little too close to asking how many angels can stand on the head of a pin. The answer turns out to be much more profound than that, though.

The answer hinges on this: Why the cross?

Jesus died on the cross to save us from our sins. He was crucified so that we could be justified, made right with God.

But that's not the only reason. It wasn't even the primary reason.

Saving us from our sins was a means to an end. It had to be done so that something else could be achieved:

"For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters" (Rom 8:29).

"For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ ..." (Eph 1:4-5).

This was the plan from the beginning: We were saved so that we could be adopted. Our sins are forgiven so that we can become children of God. We are made one with Christ so that we can share in his inheritance. We were not saved so that we could be servants or even courtiers. We are the children of the King.

The relationship we were meant to have with God was meant to be like that of the Father and the Son. So neither the Father nor the Spirit could have filled the role that the Son did.