Exposure: A Heresy of the Heart

A number of years ago my husband and I attended a teen's funeral. With a heightened awareness of the pain and suffering in that sanctuary, my anger was aroused as the person in charge laid out one lie after another.  At one point I turned to my husband and whispered, "If this goes on much longer, you are going to have to restrain me."  It took all I had not to stand up and shout, "Heresy!  Heresy!  They're lies! All lies!"

That said, this morning I discovered heresy in my heart.  In an effort to better steward this earthly vessel, I am working my way through the First Place 4 Health Bible studies.  I picked up the book, "Giving Christ First Place" on the recommendation of a pastor's wife and was blessed with a 43-pound loss a few years ago.  Sadly, weight sneaks back, and before I lose complete control, I'm on to another of their studies.  This morning I discovered an insidious thought pattern as I looked at Ephesians 6--the armor of God.

"Identify an area where you have relied on the world's philosophies and psychology in a vain attempt to overcome the spiritual forces that wage war against your soul..." (Daily Victory, Daily Joy p. 63). It didn't take much prayer to recall that yesterday--after completing much of my to-do list, exercising and eating responsibly--I indulged in strawberry milk and animal crackers while running errands. That may not be your definition of gluttony--and it wasn't even a dark sin I snuck off in the corner to commit, but it was outside my allowance for the day. God and I knew it.  My accountability partner, Sara, knows it. But God wasn't finished.  It was more than the act, it was the thought behind the act.

What was I thinking?  "Because I have done this:  ___________; I deserve this:  ______________."  Look back:  because I had completed much of my to-do list, exercised, and eaten responsibly I could now celebrate with 550 "free" calories.  WOO.....hoo.

But, you might argue, that's just positive reinforcement and performance management. There's nothing wrong with rewarding yourself, la da da da da.  And that's what I've told myself, too--until today.  Once I wrote my thoughts on paper I saw their duplicity.  Do I really think that because I've done something right so-many-times-in-a-row I deserve to sin?  Does God really say, "You've been such a good girl, you're entitled to some fun.  Go dabble in your favorite sin and come back when you're ready"?  Not.  The biblical model is to keep doing right, not to grow weary in doing good, to rejoice in God and His righteousness.  There is no comfort in sin.  There is no peace or satisfaction or accomplishment.  "This is a trustworthy saying. And I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone. " (Titus 3:8).

We would all agree that God doesn't give out sin-tickets for good behavior, but I have found that I live as if He does (or at least I pretend He does).  How different my life would be if I didn't justify bad behavior based on good behavior.  And how important it is to know God wholly, truly, reverently; living in constant dependence.  And, as the verse on this site reminds me frequently--refreshment follows repentance.  Praise God for revealing heresy--from what I hear, it's a lifelong process.

Whose Party is This?!

Matthew 22

v. 3-5, 11-12: And [the King] sent out his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding feast, and they were unwilling to come. Again he sent out other slaves saying, “Tell those who have been invited, ‘Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my oxen, and my fattened livestock are all butchered and everything is ready; come to the wedding feast.’” But they paid no attention and went their way, one to his own farm, another to his business….

But when the king came in to look over the dinner guests, he saw a man there who was not dressed in wedding clothes, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you come in here without wedding clothes?” And the man was speechless.

Observation: The King was ready. The feast was ready. The invitation was given. The people had other plans. Then when clothes were provided, the guest expressed his own personal preference—he did not submit himself to wearing what the King provided.

Application: I understand that the "call" of the King is the call to repentance--but I remain God's subject even after I've received His invitation.  How many times do I have “other plans” when it comes to obedience to God? God says, “Remember the sabbath day to keep it holy.” But I have other plans. God says, “Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, you are not your own, you were bought at a price, therefore honor God with your body.” But I have other plans. God says, “Wives, submit to your husband in everything.” But He doesn’t really mean that, does He? Not everything? I have other plans.

There was one man who was willing to change His plans and come to the King. He put aside his own agenda to celebrate with the King in His household—but his other plan was to wear his own clothes. So, I come to God, I eat His food (by reading the Bible), I spend time with His people, I enjoy the sights and sounds of His kingdom, but I don’t like His taste when it comes to my personal choices and ministry. I’d rather do it my way than His. The rest of them can do whatever…but I’m going to teach Sunday school this way….or I’m going to worship this way…or I’m going to create this fabulous new program…. And God? Where did God’s plan go?

“Then the king said to the servants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For Many are called, but few are chosen.” (v. 13-14)

Only God’s plan. Only God’s way….

Give Me!... Please?

Matthew 20


v. 26b-28: …whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give His life a ransom for many.

Observation: The early laborers to the vineyard had—they had a denarius, they had had a full day’s work—but they wanted more in comparison to the other workers (v. 12). James and John had—they had front row seats to Jesus, they had an eternal kingdom ahead—but they wanted more in comparison to the other disciples (v. 20-24). The blind men had—they had life and were somehow getting by—but they wanted more. They wanted their sight.

In the middle of everyone’s desire for what they didn’t have, Jesus foretold His betrayal, abuse, and death. He was painfully clear about who would be involved and what would happen, but there is no recorded response. The text seems to beg, “Really, Jesus? Are you sure you have that right? You must be mistaken.” There was no recognition of His gift; of His deity; of His lovingkindness from those who surrounded him daily.

Looking more closely at those who wanted more, the laborers felt entitled. They had worked longer. They “grumbled at the landowner.” (v. 11). Good thing I never grumble.

James and John appear to have recruited their mother to help ask Jesus for special treatment. They said, “we are able” to do whatever is asked in exchange for the honor of sitting at your right and left hand. The workers and disciples felt entitled to special treatment from God. Their words and actions reveal that, because of their labor, God was now under obligation to treat them accordingly.

But God is not under obligation to any man. He is God. “Is it not lawful for me to do what I wish with what is my own? Or is your eye envious because I am generous?” (v. 15).

The blind men, on the other hand, cried out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!” They recognized that Jesus may or may not grant their request. They had nothing to offer in return. God’s mercy would be extended or withheld at the discretion of the Master. It was not in the getting that they recognized Jesus’ lordship, it was already His. They laid their pitiful voices and humility at the feet of Jesus. And He healed them.

Application: How do I come to Jesus? Do I come expecting to receive more in comparison to others because of some special service or sacrifice? Or do I recognize Him for who He is—the Son of Man, the representative of man, the gift given to redeem man? When I demand more, when I grumble, when I expect better treatment do I stop to look at Jesus? The One who was delivered to the chief priests and scribes who condemned him to death? Who was then handed Him over to the Gentiles to mock and scourge and crucify? And who, on the third day, was raised up? (v. 18-19).

What did I want again? I think I just forgot.