Fallen and restored

There's a false understanding of the gospel which goes something like this: "Human beings are wretched, worthless creatures, quite useless and valueless to God. But because Jesus died for us, we have become precious to God."

It's false because it begins the gospel in the middle of the story. Fallen human beings truly are wretched creatures. But that isn't how God created us. He made us in his image, "a little lower than the angels". In his original plan, each one of us was to be a magnificent being, living in loving relationship to God, glorifying him and of great value to him. The very word "fallen" suggests this idea.

All that God has ever created is good, in the sense of being excellent, pleasing and valuable. That includes each of us. It’s true that from the moment of conception, we have been marred by others' sins, and corrupted by our own sins. We have done nothing to deserve God's love. Yet even in our sinful, unforgiven state, God loves us because he made us and knows who, and what, we were meant to be.

Yes, our sin arouses his anger, the anger of a good sovereign whose subjects are in revolt against his just laws. But it is also the anger of an artist who sees his precious work being spoiled and destroyed, the anger of a lover who sees his beloved giving herself to worthless suitors and prostituting herself.

Almost every metaphor used to describe Jesus' death involves some sort of return to a state that has been lost and is now regained - atonement, reconciliation, redemption, forgiveness, healing. Jesus' death did not make God love us. Jesus died for us because God loved us and wanted us restored to himself.

In the past, human life and achievement were often over-valued, as if man were the measure of all things. But in recent times, human beings have increasingly been portrayed as a blot on an otherwise perfect and harmonious universe. We need to be careful not to absorb this idea into the gospel. Not only does it lead to a devaluing of human life (as seen in the growing acceptance of abortion and euthanasia) it also robs the gospel of its message of restoration.

We have fallen from glory and deserve condemnation. But through Jesus we are being restored to the glory that God intended us to have, a glory that brings greater glory to him.

Image by Myriam Zilles from Pixabay 

What does it mean to trust God?

Trust is important in any relationship. But there are two levels of trust. The first involves our expectation that the other person will do us good rather than harm and will carry out what they say they will do. Over time we learn whether or not to believe the things they promise.

The second, deeper, level of trust involves our sense of safety when we are with them, and our willingness to reveal ourselves to them. We all long to be known deeply by someone. Yet life teaches us to be wary of exposing our real selves to anyone, in case they use that knowledge to harm us. It takes a great deal of trust to reveal our most intimate selves to another.

Our relationship with God involves both types of trust. As we step out tentatively in faith, we learn through experience that God will do what he has promised. He has our best interest in mind. Sometimes we go through painful experiences which seem to make no sense. Only in retrospect do we see how God was working for good. Such experiences help our tentative faith to grow into a deeper trust in God's goodness.

But trusting God also means trusting that he is safe to be with. It means being sure that if we approach him, he won't overwhelm us. If we reveal our true selves to him, he won't turn on us in anger, or disapproval, or scorn.

Almost the first thing we learn about God is that he knows our every thought, word and deed (Ps 139). That could be frightening to know. Yet our assurance as Christians rests on the fact that there is no condemnation in Christ Jesus (Rom 8.1). God knows all there is to know about us, and yet he loves and accepts us.

But how well do we know this? I suspect that most of us cope with the idea of God knowing us intimately either by reducing God to something less than he really is, or by attempting to hide certain parts of ourselves from his gaze. The more we learn of the awesomeness of God, the less inclined we feel to be known by him. That is, until we really come to believe, with our hearts as well as our minds, that he is to be trusted. Being fully known by God then becomes a source of joy and strength rather than a fearful thing.

Image by Bob Marjawar from Pixabay  This article originally appeared on "One Candle", my former website. It may be copied (without alteration) for non-commercial use, but please acknowledge its source.

Confident sinners

Here's a paradox - the longer we've been a Christian, the more we come to realise how sinful we really are. We discover that our antagonism towards God runs very deep.

Does this sound familiar? Before I turned to Christ, I sometimes felt guilty about specific things I'd done, but I didn't know what to do with the guilt. It was a joy to discover that because of Jesus' death on the cross, I'm forgiven and accepted by God.

For a while I was delighted to find that I was overcoming some of my unwanted bad habits. But then the Holy Spirit started to show me things that I'd never seen as sinful before. And worse than that, I sometimes found myself committing sins I thought I'd conquered years ago. I also realised that even the good things I do are often motivated by a need to gain another person's approval, or fear of criticism, or pride in my own skills. And what of the good things I could have done, but failed to do, out of laziness, fear or lack of love?

If you recognise this process, you'll know that at this point it becomes tempting to doubt that God could really love us. It was one thing to believe that God loved us when our sins were all out on the surface - deep down we knew that we were really quite decent people. But how could God love someone who is sinful to the core?

Eventually (by God's grace) we discover that doubting God's love is itself a sin. Perhaps the greatest sin of all. Isn't that what the story of Adam and Eve is all about? Satan, in the form of the serpent, persuaded the pair that God didn't really have their best interest at heart, that he was treating them unfairly, and keeping good things from them. So they chose to doubt God's love. They ignored his warning about what would happen if they tried to judge for themselves what was good and evil. And then, when they realised what they'd done, they shamefacedly hid from God rather than coming to him for forgiveness. They refused to confess, blaming each other, the serpent, even God himself. They didn't recognise God's anguished question, "What have you done?" as the cry of love. They heard it as a rebuke.

Over and over God's Word tells us that Jesus really did die for us "while we were yet sinners". Each new discovery of the depth of our sinfulness serves to grow our understanding of how much Jesus suffered for us on the cross. Instead of being weighed down by our discovery that we aren't just people who sin, but innately sinful, we find new freedom, thankfulness and joy. The more we understand how sinful we are, the more we come to appreciate just how much God loves us.

And then we meet another paradox - the more we recognise our ingrained tendency to sin, the more God can use us in his service. Because we no longer dare trust ourselves, we learn to depend on him. We know we can't overcome our sinfulness by our own efforts, but God's Spirit is working in us to make us more and more like Christ. It's this confidence in Christ, not self-confidence, that turns pew-warmers into witnesses and activists into prayerful, powerful servants of God.

A shorter version of this article originally appeared on "One Candle", my former website. It may be copied (without alteration) for non-commercial use, but please acknowledge its source.

Worthy to be insulted

We all need encouragement to keep doing what we’re doing. As a writer, I’m encouraged to go on writing when someone tells me that something I’ve written has been helpful to them. Teachers are encouraged when their students do well in their exams. Trades people are encouraged when a customer recommends them to someone else, not just because of the promise of more work, but because it shows that the quality of their work is appreciated.

But what should encourage us as Christians to keep on striving to lead Christian lives? We might answer something like “seeing many people converted” or “receiving answers to prayer”. Jesus gave a very different and rather strange answer to the question.

He said we should be encouraged when we are persecuted. In fact we should rejoice when we are persecuted for his sake, because it shows that our lives are producing the same effect as those of the prophets and our reward awaits us in heaven (Matt 5:11-12). Peter, in his letter to the churches, said that being insulted for the name of Christ shows that the Spirit of God rests upon us. (1 Peter 4:14)

Of course it’s possible to be ‘persecuted’ for being a self-righteous busybody or a bully. Jesus spoke specifically of being falsely accused of evil for his sake. But if we are endeavouring to live Christ-like lives, being merciful, faithful, loving, forgiving and fearless, and yet find ourselves rejected and excluded because we are Christ’s people, we can rejoice and be encouraged to continue. Like the disciples in Acts 5, we are being counted worthy to suffer dishonour for his name.

Judge of all the earth

He rules the world in righteousness and judges the peoples with equity. (Psalm9:8 NIV)

In our judicial system, the role of judge is separated from that of lawmaker. A judge cannot change the law, initiate legal proceedings, or change the penalty imposed by the law. A judge has no role in carrying out the sentence against the guilty.

This separation of lawmakers and judges is meant to ensure that justice is applied fairly and impartially. If the same person who makes the law also acts as judge and carries out the sentence, the result is often despotism, injustice and arbitrary punishment. So what are we to make of a Judge who acts as lawmaker and executioner too?

Perhaps we need to move away from thinking about the law courts and find a different analogy for God as Judge. When we were children, our parents determined the family’s rules. When those rules were broken, it was they who decided who was responsible and what the penalty would be. Being human, our parents may sometimes have set rules and meted out punishments that seemed harsh or unfair. But children seldom question their parent's right to act as both lawmaker and judge. A good parent is not distant and impartial, but lovingly committed to their child’s growth in maturity and righteousness.

We must be careful not to take this analogy too far. God is truly Father only to those who are in Christ, adopted into his family. Parents are not God! But the analogy is helpful in that it reminds us that God as Judge is not a distant despot, nor even an impartial legalist, but the Creator who is deeply concerned for the eternal welfare of those whom he rules and judges. His laws are not arbitrary, but a reflection of his own goodness and holiness. His judgement is not impersonal and distant, but based on an intimate knowledge of the hearts and minds of those he judges.

Inspired not condemned

The advertising industry has apparently decided that promoting anxiety about being judged inadequate is just as good for business as creating envy. So women's magazines carry pictures of celebrities with scathing captions mocking the size of their thighs, the colour of their lipstick or their fashion blunders. The message to readers is clear - get this right or you too will be judged. Of course the magazines carry numerous advertisements for products that will help you do just that.

Sadly, some churches seem to work on the same principle. Certain individuals are criticised, openly or subtly, for the way they dress, the frequency of their attendance at church functions, or the way they bring up their children. Sometimes the pulpit is used to condemn not just sin, but sinners. Soon everyone learns to conform, not out of love or respect for each other, but because they fear that they too will be judged.

Fear of condemnation should have no place among Christians. Jesus repeatedly warned his disciples against having a judgmental attitude towards others. He was grieved and angered by the Pharisees’ tendency to judge and condemn those who didn't conform to their own man-made standards. The church that is following Jesus will be a place where people are welcomed as they are, and inspired to do better, rather than being made anxious to conform.

What the Bible has to say about sin must be taught, and taught well. It is sometimes appropriate to privately and lovingly confront someone who is straying from God’s word. But only God knows enough about the circumstances of a person’s life and the motives of their heart to be their judge. If he himself does not condemn us, let us be people who offer encouragement rather than condemnation to each other.