February 2010


The world puts a lot of emphasis on self-esteem, and those living in the United States are particularly ready to argue their “right” to do a whole host of things, and talk to this generation about “turning the other cheek” and they’ll let you know they’d do just about anything but look “weak.”

Contrast all this with the fruit of the Spirit meekness. Like so many Christian teachings, this one has been too often twisted so there is little understanding of the Biblical idea of meekness. The definition of an “attitude of humility toward God and gentleness toward people” I think is an interesting one to consider. Think of the three components given in Micah 6:8 as to what it is the Lord desires: (1) act justly; (2) love mercy; and (3) walk humbly with your God. It is the walking “humbly with your God” that makes the other elements possible, for we cannot know or understand God’s justice or love of mercy until we have walked with Him. [But “Walking Humbly” is a whole ‘nother message…]

This meekness, then, is a thing of strength and not of weakness. This is where what Oswald Chambers terms “God-esteem” must trump self-esteem. We must see ourselves and others through God’s eyes and with His heart instead of our own sin-tainted ones.

Take a moment to think of those in history you would consider meek. Were they “weak”? Did they conform to how the world tends to define meekness as something akin to doormats? Besides Jesus, Mother Teresa and Gandhi come to mind for me…hardly people lacking in confidence, inner strength, courage, or fortitude!

Let us, then, walk with our God, trusting in His goodness and control over all things, and allowing that attitude to manifest itself also in how we relate to others, giving glory to God in all things.

Advertisements

As I reflected on the importance of God’s faithfulness in our lives, I was reminded of a prayer of Soren Kierkegaard:

Father in Heaven! You have loved us first, help us never to forget that You are love so that this sure conviction might triumph in our hearts over the seduction of the world, over the inquietude of the soul, over the anxiety for the future, over the fright of the past, over the distress of the moment. But grant also that this conviction might discipline our soul so that our heart might remain faithful and sincere in the love which we bear to all those whom You have commanded us to love as we love ourselves.

You have loved us first, O God, alas! We speak of it in terms of history as if You have only loved us first but a single time, rather than that without ceasing You have loved us first many times and every day and our whole life through. When we wake up in the morning and turn our soul toward You – You are the first – You have loved us first; if I rise at dawn and at the same second turn my soul toward You in prayer, You are there ahead of me, You have loved me first. When I withdraw from the distractions of the day and turn my soul toward You, You are the first and thus forever. And yet we always speak ungratefully as if You have loved us first only once.

And so we see again, the inextricable relation of love with another one of the fruit of the Spirit. And we see again how God’s first action should result in our own proactiveness in relation to others. Let us love the unlovely, offer joy amidst sorrow and depression, bring peace in turmoil, be patient with the restive, be kind to the unkind, repay evil with good, and prove faithful in this ever-changing, fickle world.

This transformed life we are called to live by the power of the Holy Spirit is not simply for our own benefit, but for the benefit of others. It is for those that we encounter, and for those that will follow behind us. As the Steve Green song says, “May those who come behind us find us faithful.” Just as we stand on the shoulders of the faithful from Hebrews 11 through those who we have been blessed to encounter in our own lifetimes, so we must be found faithful for those God has placed within our sphere of influence.

But what happens when “The Older Brother Syndrome” kicks in? When one gets tired of being the dependable, honest, loyal, faithful one? As someone who made a decision for Christ at an early age, I’ve always tended to sympathize with the older brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. But here we come full circle, for the Father is faithful in His restoration of all His children. While the younger son’s complete severing of relations is overt, the older son, in his anger, similarly distances himself:

“The prodigal is no longer his brother; he is “this son of yours” (v. 30).  The pejorative “this” (Fitzmyer 1985, 1091), “son” instead of “brother,” and “yours” instead of “mine” bespeak the radicality of exclusion….The older one will not be the “brother-of-the-prodigal” and hence for him the prodigal is not “my brother.” …For the first time in the whole story, in the older brother’s explanation of his anger, the father is not addressed as “father.” He has become just another “you” (vv. 29-30)….

…But though the older son “un-fathers” the father, the father not only holds on to him (as he held onto the prodigal while the prodigal was in the distant country), but states clearly that the relationship has not been broken….

…For the father, the priority of the relationship means not only a refusal to let moral rules be the final authority regulating “exclusion” and “embrace” but also a refusal to construct his own identity in isolation from his sons, He readjusts his identity along with the changing identities of his sons and thereby reconstructs their broken identities and relationships. He suffers being “un-fathered” by both, so that through this suffering he may regain both as his sons (if the older brother was persuaded) and help them rediscover each other as brothers. [Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation, Miraslov Volf, pp. 156-165]

Let us, then, draw on that faithfulness of God, knowing that in every moment, it is He that loves us first, transforming us through His love that we may be found faithful, and that our relationships might be restored not only with our Father, but with our brothers and sisters.

 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. (Mark 10:18)

When Jesus questions someone calling Him good, what hope have we in manifesting goodness in our lives?

It is a striking reminder of the standard against which we must be measured. All are capable of both good and evil, but reflecting the true goodness of God our Father is only possible through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 7:18-19; 8:13-15) It is a very transformation of our character to not only desire the good that is God’s will, but also to actively exhibit that good in our lives and avoid all evil.

Perhaps this is part of Jesus’ objection to being called good, for many are called good without the ability to know their hearts. Instead, we are called to reflect God in His revelation of good rather than it merely being a fleeting appellation. In a cursory search, it doesn’t seem the word “good” is even used to refer to God until Exodus 33:19, but clearly all that has been revealed of God prior to that — from creation to the salvation of man through Noah’s family to His covenant with Abram to His guiding of Joseph’s life to the exodus to the reestablishment of His covenant people and so much more — we see that God is good so much more than if we had simply been told this and been expected to believe it at face value.

How, then, is this fruit being manifested in your own life? Do the things that cause people to see you as “good” flow from a right motivation, — that “inward devotion and love toward God” that will ultimately reveal the God we serve to others so they can see beyond our apparent goodness to the One that alone is good?