Knowing and Being Known: A Devotion for February 23, 2016

            Carrying on a little bit from yesterday’s post, I find the story of the fall into sin fascinating. There’s so much there in this short account from Genesis 3, but the thing I’m thinking about this morning is Adam and Eve’s very first reaction after they had eaten the fruit: “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves” (3:7). Notice that? The first effect of sin that’s listed is that Adam and Eve hid from each other. A few verses later Adam says that he was afraid because he was naked. What’s to be afraid of?

            Once he had fallen, Adam feared being seen and known as he really was. His sin was a shame to him that he didn’t want anyone—neither his wife nor God Himself—to see. He didn’t want his secret thoughts to be known.

            Humans still play those games. We meet new people and we do the dance of putting our best foot forward. And once the deception is started, it’s a long time until it’s ended. The world is full of stories: “If I’d known he had a problem with alcohol…, if I’d known she was married before…, if I’d known…” The implication is the same, if we’d known at the outset, we would have been more careful in entering the relationship. Maybe we wouldn’t have taken the risk at all. So, we minimize our less attractive aspects and pretend to be better than we are, and we shield and protect ourselves from truths yet to be revealed by keeping a part of our selves away from others.

            But in Christ, we have the promise of knowing and being known (1 Cor. 13:8-12). That starts with the reality of forgiveness and restoration. The sin and the secret shame is gone in Christ, and that means we have the real possibility of opening ourselves to one another. And there’s such joy in discovering the depths of another person and being discovered in return! There’s honesty there and depth and beauty and connection.

            I’m thinking about this because it’s become clear to me that I value relationships a lot. I want to be able to speak the truth in love—about myself and about another. I want to have friends with whom I can reveal my heart of hearts and un-hide myself in loving honesty and to whom I can speak truthfully, naming them as they really are. It’s hard to do that when you’re always evaluating another in terms of their usefulness in advancing your own purposes, that is, when you’re most concerned about the accumulation and maintenance of power. It’s precisely the sinful wielding of power that strips us of our honesty and causes us to protect ourselves from one another.

Power and Relationships: A Devotion for February 22, 2016

            I spent the last several days at a conference. I learned a few things, but perhaps the greatest benefit was some time to reflect and think. Here’s a conclusion I came to:

To hold on to power, a person must sacrifice relationships.

To hold on to relationships, a person must sacrifice power.

It came clear to me this weekend that those are pretty solid axioms.

            The accumulation and maintenance of power often mean that people who oppose those goals will get cast aside or run over in the pursuit of them. (Not wanting to get all political, but Jeb Bush, who withdrew from the GOP nomination race last weekend, used to be a patron and supporter of Marco Rubio. However, in Bush’s quest for the nomination—for power—he said a lot of fairly nasty things about Rubio, his youth, his lack of experience, and his ideas. It wasn’t a good look for Bush.) It strikes me how lonely the powerful must be, especially if they value that power above all else.

            On the other hand, valuing relationships often means that you won’t get your way, for fear of hurting a friend or loved one. Loyalty and consideration for another will limit how high you can rise, especially if that other values different things than you do.

            This is all particularly important in the church. In the body of Christ, the accumulation of power is not supposed to be a high value. Over and over again, the Gospels record sayings of Jesus to the effect that the first will be last, that the one who wants to be great should be a servant, that the proud will be brought low and the humble raised up. However, consideration for another is a high value. Read Romans 12, 14-15, or 1 Corinthians 12-14, if you don’t believe me.

            Here’s another thing that came clear to me this weekend: I may be intellectually sympathetic to any number of viewpoints, but I abhor seeing those ideas advanced at the expense of brothers and sisters in Christ. I understand that the church can’t be paralyzed by a recalcitrant few, but I do wish we took one another more seriously as members of the same body. I don’t expect the church to be free of all conflict, but I do expect that that conflict will be managed with honesty, directness, and mutual respect. I wish we could learn to value relationships over power and to take Paul seriously when he exhorts us, “As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:1-3).

Devotion for February 18, 2016

Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the Twelve (Luke 22:3; NIV).

            Satan’s opportune time was Holy Week. He found Judas, disgruntled, confused, frustrated, and the ancient enemy turned him to his own purposes.

            Here’s the thing that Luke wants us to see: it’s true that Judas bears responsibility for his decision. (The Bible nowhere teaches that “the devil made me do it” is an adequate defense.) But there is something greater, more nefarious at work. The ancient struggle between the serpent and the true God is being brought to its culmination. The cross is the moment when the serpent strikes the Seed’s heel and the serpent’s head is crushed in return.

            That’s not apparent on the cross, of course. On the cross, we can imagine that Satan holds out hope that he can disrupt God’s purposes right to the very end. On the cross, we can imagine that Satan holds out hope that Jesus will renounce the ways of God, just like Adam did so long ago. But Jesus dies in faithful obedience to the Father and Satan’s plans come to nothing. The resurrection proves that the wound the serpent inflicted is not permanently fatal to Jesus.

            An ancient struggle comes to its climax in Holy Week, and our foe, who’s never quite done with us, loses. Satan is still dangerous to us, but in Christ we are ‘more than conquerors’ (Rom. 8)

Devotion for February 17, 2016

When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time (Luke 4:13; NIV).

            Satan wasn’t done with Jesus. At critical moments, Satan would return to test Jesus’ resolve to do things the Father’s way, to pursue the lonely road to the cross. In Gethsemane, Jesus declared, “This is the hour of darkness,” recognizing Satan’s assault. And on the cross, we find a threefold repetition of Satan’s initial test, “If you are the Son of God, save yourself.” But, of course, Jesus would not save Himself. He was there to save us.

            Satan’s not done with us, either. He doesn’t give us respite. He waits until we’re stressed, distracted, at our worst, and attacks again and again, urging us to take matters into our own hands, to trust our own strength. And so often, we fall for it, acting as if we have to muscle through on our own, stand on our own power.

            Here’s the secret of the Gospel. It was exactly at that moment when Jesus was most fully stripped of His own power that He earned our salvation. “My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians12:9). The Gospel is clearest exactly at that moment when our strength fails, when all that is left is the grace of God, who understands how we are tested, has faced the test Himself, and defeated our ancient foe by refusing to trust His own understanding.

Devotion for February 16, 2016

The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.” Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone’” (Luke 4:3-4; NIV).

            Two stories sit behind this first temptation. First is the story of Adam and Eve, in which Eve was tempted by the desirability of the forbidden fruit (Genesis 3:6, “The fruit was good for eating, pleasing to the eye, and desirable for gaining wisdom.”) Similarly, Jesus is tempted to use His power to accomplish His own ends in His own ways. Part of Jesus’ answer is that He will not go the way of Adam; He will follow the path set out by the Father. Second is the story (stories!) of Israel in the wilderness, griping about the food. That repeated complaint reflected a deep loss of trust in the God who had redeemed them. Again, Jesus response is that He will not go the way of Israel, losing faith in the Father.

            Obedient and faithful, Jesus will follow the Father. Obedient and faithful, He will endure the cross. Obedient and faithful, He will die there (Luke 23:46). Obedient and faithful, He will be everything that Israel should have been, that Adam should have been, that you and I should have been. Obedient and faithful, He will pay the price of our failure and open up the way for our restoration to be what God always desired.