Two-faced grace
Wednesday, December 31, 2008 at 11:13AM 
In many congregations and fellowships today, you'll hear a dual message: "You're forgiven, even "redeemed," yet you remain largely a self-centered person who is bent on falling short."
We bring hope to people through the message of forgiveness, then tell them they're going to need a lot of it because they just can't get it together. It's a duplicitous, two-faced message. We're constantly flipping back and forth between the two masks: hope and shame.
- Forgiven, but never spiritual enough.
- Redeemed, yet told the redemption has had little effect on your heart.
- "New creation," yet not in practical terms -- only as an ideal
- Grace, but not the grace that solves the real problem
We have missed the centerpiece of the Gospel: that grace is more than forgiveness: it is a restored heart. Strong. Holy. Already.
The human heart has always been the problem. Jesus solved the problem by making an offer: "I will give you my own heart. Now." Redemption means you have a pure heart ... now.
If grace does not involve the thorough restoration of a dis-eased heart, then we are Lazarus -- released from the tomb, yet forever tripping over our graveclothes; unable to walk in freedom, hindered by those appetites that have always bound us. Forgiveness alone will leave you crippled.
Grace must include the offer a new heart: "I will give you a new heart..." (Ezekiel 36:26) Without it, we are left with a discouraging distortion -- two-faced grace.
How much are you worth?
Tuesday, December 23, 2008 at 8:39AM My friend John reminded me of the following line from the song, "O, Holy Night:"
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
and the soul felt its worth.
Not, "...and the soul felt its sin." Not, "and the soul felt its shame." (Though one can feel such things when one doesn't know how deeply he is loved.)
Rather, "...and the soul felt its worth."
By, "worth," we can never simply mean that we are useful to God. Rather, we must know that we are wildly desired, treasured, fought for.
Delighted in.
"...and the soul felt its worth."
Stunted 'grace'
Thursday, December 18, 2008 at 10:56AM 
The form of 'grace' we have today is like an asthma patient who's given an inhaler to relieve their symptoms. The patient is grateful for the new freedom in their lungs, but the inhaler never cures the asthma: it only treats it temporarily.
I've recently come across an increasing number of very devoted followers of Jesus who believe in grace primarily as an act of pardon: "You're off the hook, now." And, they may also believe in grace as the action of God in them to produce goodness and Christlike character. But this form of grace will always be stunted, cut short by their view of the heart.
If the believer's heart hasn't been thoroughly renovated -- no, replaced -- by the very heart of Jesus, then this stunted form of grace is actually a cruelty. The resulting effect of stunted grace goes like this: "You're off the hook now because of God's grace; and he is indeed working in you to make you more Christ-like; but, because your heart is still sinful (desperately wicked) and prone to wander, you're probably not going to do very well at this holiness thing. Why? Because your heart is still bent on self-will and preoccupied with getting life on its own terms. Try harder next time (by God's grace) to not let your diseased and corrupt heart get in the way of this new holiness you're after.
Doesn't this seem a bit cruel to you? The problem with stunted grace is that it doesn't address the root problem: the heart needs an overall, and the rescuing work of Jesus has to go beyond pardon. It must go straight for the heart. And .... thankfully, it did.
Is it possible to "love God with all your heart" if your heart remains dark and prone to wander? Would God ask such a thing of us, knowing it sets us up for failure? "You're required to love me with your truest self, but you won't be able to. " It's similar to offering a man on death row a pardon, releasing him from his debt, but then asking him to function as a healed man in society.
How cruel it would be to expect a man with a shattered leg to climb Everest, pressuring him to be more committed to the task, admonishing him to have more faith, all the while knowing he can only do it if his limb is first restored.
First, you heal the man of the disease that sentenced him in the first place, then you ask him to live the life of Jesus -- out of that restoration.
To be sure, there will continue to be competing desires in a person, for the person's old heart/nature is still present, yet the believer is clearly a new creation with his identity firmly secured by his restoration. His new heart is now the center of his identity. "God became man to turn creatures into sons; not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man. " -- C. S. Lewis
What does it mean that we are 'new creations in Christ' if it does not include the rescue of our hearts? If we first stray with our hearts, we can also (following our rescue) return with our hearts. The heart is at the center of it all.
"Grace" is the gift of a restored and noble heart.
The long road of desire
Thursday, December 11, 2008 at 10:38AM 
Holding fast to your desires may be the hardest thing you've ever done.
Some of my greatest sorrows occur because I desire so deeply. But, the alternative is far worse. The alternative is to lose heart, to shut down. To give up desire in order to avoid the pain of unfulfilled longings is a darkness worse than pain.
Why do our longings often seem to go unfulfilled? You want to find that soul mate with whom you can grow old, but you're afraid you're too old already. You want to walk in your calling, but either can't find it or sense that nobody wants what you're offering. You know you're not asking for something outside God's will, or perhaps God has indeed said he would give this to you, but the delay -- the long delay -- feels like a betrayal, and you wonder if you heard Him in the first place.
So what are the questions we can ask during the long road of desire?
- Is there something you want to heal, Father?
- Is this an issue of timing - that if I rushed in, it would jeapardize what I most truly want? (Jesus often says, "The right time has not yet come." He knows his heart matters to his Father, so he yields without dismissing what's important to him.)
- What are you giving ... now? In this moment. Help me receive that.
Desire Desire and discernment
Friday, December 5, 2008 at 12:10PM 
There's a scene in "The Mask of Zorro" in which early on in the story, a young man (played by Antonia Banderas) finds himself drunk in a cantina. The young man and his brother had grown up as orphans, and he has witnessed the slaughter of his brother at the hands of a malevolent and wicked military officer.
While drunk in the cantina, the young man sees his brother's murderer ride into town and determines to take his vengeance. As he gets up to rush out towards his enemy, he is knocked down by another man, a mysterious stranger, who happens to be Zorro cloaked in disguise.
Not knowing to whom he's speaking, the bewildered young man scrambles and spits out, "What are you doing?! I was about to kill that man."
Zorro answers, "You should thank me."
"I should thank you?!"
"Yes," says Zorro. "You would have fought bravely, and died quickly; for that man is trained to kill and you are trained to drink."
The young man's desires, in this case, would have lead to disastrous consequences.
But, not all desire is bad. There are four roots or sources of desire that whisper in our ears, each attempting to sway us:
- The ruined world
- The ruined angels
- The ruined heart (the flesh)
- The restored heart
If you're going to live from desire, a caution must be given: We should neither dismiss all desire, nor should we indulge all desire. It requires discernment to know the root of any particular desire.
As we walk with God, the desires of the restored heart grow stronger and those offered by all that is ruined are crucifed.
Our task is to indulge the deep desires of our new and noble hearts in ways that are life-giving -- not rushing in too early, but allowing the impeccable timing of God to direct their fulfillment.
Desire