Mad? Really?

I get mad at God sometimes.  Yes, I said it, mad.  Things aren’t going my way.  The A/C isn’t working while it’s 106 outside and not much cooler inside.  The transmission goes out in my vehicle.  Then, to put the icing on the cake, someone does something to hurt me by going back on their word about something very important.  Why God?  Why?

I’ve recently been reading a book titled Leadership and Self-Deception and it has been a wonderful reminder of how I often betray myself by only thinking of myself, how I feel, what I want and I see everything and everyone around me as objects of how I want things to work together.  In that betrayal, I deceive myself by justifying everything I want and see based on what I feel my needs are and when I justify myself, I can make everyone else wrong.  Even God.  

I get mad at God because He doesn’t fix the problems for me.  Oh, sure, maybe they are problems I had a hand in creating.  Maybe they are problems I started by something I did or didn’t do in a preventative way.  And yes, there are people around me who have problems that make mine appear meaningless but I’m mad at God because I’m a good guy, because I’ve done the right things in the past few months, because I’ve been more giving than I used to be, because I’ve turned the other cheek a time or two, because I’ve been telling people how good God is...and now this.

I’m mad.

I’m mad at the one who sent His own son to save me.  I’m mad at the one who has forgiven me while people on this earth refuse to forgive me for a mistake years and years ago.  I’m mad at the one who says He has a place prepared for me that is greater than all I can imagine.  

It sounds silly, doesn’t it?  I know I’m not the only one who has found myself in this place wondering why God isn’t heeding my prayers and fixing my problems.  Is it coincidence I was given this book to read at this time?  It’s good to be reminded that sometimes I deceive myself by painting a picture around me of how I think things should work and forgetting that there is one who sees all and knows all and who loves me beyond comprehension.  I get mad at God because I don’t see others, or God, the way I should, the way he sees his children.  

I’m not mad at God any longer.  In fact, I’m a little embarrassed but we’ve talked and I know I am forgiven and loved.  

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this not from yourselves, it s the gift of God, not by works so that no one can boast.  For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. - Ephesians 2:8-10

I am God’s workmanship.  Saved by his gift of grace.

I just need to get out of my own way and focus on who I am.  A child, saved from bondage, saved from evil, loved completely and unconditionally.  Who can be mad about that?

Jeff Jones

Decatur, Texas

Radical is Normal?

The word “radical” is so frequently thrown around in Christian communities today. You’ve probably heard it: “Live radically for the kingdom! We are called to a radical way of life!” I think it’s kind of a hyperbole. “Really? An elephant is big? Oh. Wow! Thank you for pointing that out for me. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed.” That’s the analogy that my mind immediately makes when I think of the word “radical” as it pertains to the Jesus-Mission: “Really? The Jesus-Mission is radical? Oh. Wow! Thank you for pointing that out for me. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed.”

Perhaps this is true for those who know nothing of the Jesus-Mission, that is, picking up your cross as you die daily to the desires of the flesh and choose to live the way Jesus did, instead.

The Jesus-Mission is radical and the Jesus-Mission is normal. It’s both. But the question applies to both sides of that coin: Compared to what? If we’re going by the standard set by Jesus Himself, the way our current definition of “radical” calls us to live is actually pretty normal. In the context of our calling, we’re mediocre at best. So, what about in the context of our culture? Well, that requires an even more specific contextualization. All these things that we think are radical—choosing to worship out in the dirt under the trees instead of in a glitzy building, spending minimally on food and clothing and toys, living simply and focusing on delving into true community because it’s all we have to cling to—are everyday life in some other cultures, and not even by choice. In Christian communities outside of middle-class America, “radical” is just normal. In those contexts, you look foolish for commending yourself for your lifestyle, because you’re just…normal.

I don’t really care what we call it, honestly, radical or normal, but we should just shut up and strive for it. You think Christians in rural Africa or Mexico or even the most impoverished areas of the United States walk around talking about how “radical” they are? No way. Paul didn’t walk around bragging about walking worthy of the calling set before him (because that’s the point of being radical in the first place, right?). Nope. He walked it and invited other people to walk with him. He also said that if he does decide to boast, it’ll only be in the Lord, not in his own radical lifestyle. Besides, if we’re really living in a way that is radical within our own cultural context, two things will likely happen. The people within that context who do not know Jesus will think we are insane and will probably treat us like social outcasts. The people who do know Jesus will feel extremely uncomfortable, because in seeing how radically we live, they will not be able to stand their own consciences.

If we haven’t experienced either of these, we shouldn’t be talking so much about living radically, because we aren’t. It’s not about trying to be marginalized; it’s just the nature of our calling. The gospels and Acts aren’t really suggestions or entertaining anecdotes about the kind of lifestyle we should pursue. Our culture today isn’t any less brutal (albeit in a different way) than the one we read about in the New Testament. If they were persecuted, we should expect the same treatment. Because if we’re truly living out the Jesus-Mission, it’s inevitable.

I’m not radical. I’m pretty normal. But, hey, I’m trying, and grace abounds for my weakness and selfishness that calls me back into the former way of things. It abounds for yours, too. So, we can pick up our crosses side by side and keep walking, in hope and joy. Before “being radical,” there was the Jesus-Mission. It’s of first importance.

"Sometimes I would like to ask God why He allows poverty, suffering, and injustice when He could do something about it."
"Well, why don't you ask Him?"
"Because I'm afraid He would ask me the same question."

I Corinthians 4:6-17

Father,
Teach us to pursue purpose, not just passion, love in deed, not just word, and lives that look more like the ones that we read about in Your holy scriptures. Give us a greater understand of what it means to take up our crosses, so that when we throw around words with heavy weight, we will not throw them around in vain. Thank you for loving us when we are arrogant and misguided. We want to love you more.
Through Jesus, the one who created the mission that we cling to,
Amen.

Erin E. Daugherty, Abilene Christian University

Like a Potato Skin

Last week, while eating supper with my wife and my daughter (age nine), I had one of those moments where one does a “double-take”. It was an instance that causes one to pause and reflect.

The meal consisted of ribeye steak, green beans, and baked potatoes (I call this a “king’s feast”). The conversation during the meal shifted back and forth between things we encountered that day and anticipation of things to come. Midway through the meal, I heard my daughter speak words that I did not think would ever come from her lips. “You know, the best thing about the potato is the skin.” she exclaimed. While I was pleased with her new found appetite for what some consider the most nutritional part of the potato, I was also perplexed because usually we have to separate the skin from the potato before it reaches her plate because she despises it so. Wow! Just when you think you know someone!

This reminded me of a parable that Jesus once told of two men who went to the temple to pray. One of the men was a Pharisee or “teacher of the law” and considered to be a religious example during that time. The other man was a tax collector and most often viewed as an outcast. At the temple, the Pharisee thanked God that he was not like the tax collector or other “evildoers” and boasted of his deeds. The tax collector “would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” (Luke 18:13). Wow! Just when you think you know someone.

This story interests me because had I been a part of society back then I would have thought that I could identify a person who knew God. I would have picked the Pharisee. However, Christ tells us that because the tax collector humbled himself, he was the one that was justified before God. The tax collector was the one who really knew God!

I wonder sometimes if we are like the Pharisee and lose sight of who God is and what it means to be a disciple. I wonder sometimes if we get caught up in the do-it-yourself mentality and forget that we are sinners and need a savior. Perhaps we don’t want to admit that we are vulnerable and need a family to lean on. Maybe we encounter times in life where being set apart as kingdom people is not appealing to our selfish appetites and can be tough to swallow…kind of like a potato skin.

Christ said, “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me – (John 10:14). “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27).
These passages paint a vivid image of a shepherd leading, feeding, mending, protecting, and providing for his flock as the sheep are seen listening to, responding to, and following his instruction. How grand a picture of love and trust that is framed in a relational context!

To know Christ is to know God. To know Christ is to follow in his footsteps from pasture to pasture.

Father, help me to recognize my inequities so that I can humble myself. Help me to see you as my shepherd. I pray that my pride subsides and I allow you to lead me. Grant me strength to follow. I want to know you. Amen.

Todd Adams – Dublin, Texas