All That Matters

So I had planned an elaborate and (I thought) brilliant post about South Carolina, the shooting, racism, the Confederate flag, gun control, and so on.  It was going to be epic, convicting, and theologically astounding.  But I have come to realize this week that time is short, and we may not have many more opportunities to talk about what really matters in life, and that is the Gospel.

The Gospel is all that matters. Period.  So, while we've discussed these things before in numerous other posts, I want to bring it together here:  The Gospel is God loving you even though you don't deserve it.

I'm going to lay out a fundamental, yet painful truth:  you do not deserve God's love.  Yes, you.  You, right here, right now, reading this, do not deserve God's love; He owes you nothing, because you have lived most of your life pursuing yourself.  You have lived for your dreams, your desires, your wants.  Even when you've been selfless, it's mostly because you wanted to feel better about yourself.  And you've done it all at the expense of God.  We call this sin, and, as I've said a hundred times before, sin is nothing short of treason against the Creator.

In order to grasp the Gospel of Jesus, we must all lay hold of this fundamental truth.  We cannot gloss over it, ignore it, or downplay it.  You and I - for I am right here with you - deserve God's wrath.  Sin has no boundaries, but extends through religions, sexualities, gender, political parties, and any other category we could possibly think of.  No one is without sin.  There are none who are righteous, not a single one of us.

But here's the good part:  God loves us still.  When we sin, God loves us.  When we fight against God's will, He still loves us.  When we pretend (or even convince ourselves) that He doesn't exist, He still loves us.  He became one of us in the person of Jesus, lived a life in complete submission to God, died for us, and then got back up.  All God asks is that we trust Him.

That's really all He's ever wanted from us.  And so, even though we trust ourselves more, even though we trust other people more, He died in order to prove that He's trustworthy.  And where sin is limitless, Grace is even more limitless.  Grace is available no matter what your religion is, your sexuality, your gender, your political party, or any other category you could possibly think of.  John writes in 1 John 2:  "He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world."  Get that?  Everyone has the opportunity.   

But you have to believe (John 3:16).  You have to believe that you don't deserve God's love, and you have to believe that Jesus is the proof we need that God loves us anyway.  One day, you will stand before God, and He will ask for an account of your life.  What will you tell your Creator?  That you lived selfishly, without regard to either Him or others?  That you tried to do right by others, but only to impress Him?  His answer is going to be swift and terrible:  "Get out of my sight; you were never Mine."

The late Brennan Manning once said (and I'm paraphrasing, because I can't find the written quote):  the only honest people in the room are going to look at their shoes and say, "Well, frankly, Sir, I screwed up most of my life, but I believed You love me, and I desired to shape and mold my life as a response to that love."  And that, Brennan says, is the difference between true believers and everyone else.  God has saved you.  He's already done it.  Lay hold of it, and watch your life be transformed.

Because time is running out.
    

Meatballs and Sauce

Few things go better together than beef and a nice cream sauce.  Few cream sauces are better than easy-to-make sauces.  You're welcome.  :-) 


1 lb. ground beef                 1 can condensed cream of mushroom soup
1 t dried dill                            1/8 t paprika
1 t salt, divided                       1 c sour cream
1/2 t pepper, divided               1/2 c milk
1 egg                                       1 lb. pasta
1/2 c bread crumbs                 


1)  Combine beef, dill, 1/2 t salt, 1/4 t pepper, egg, and breadcrumbs in a bowl.  Set aside for 5-10 minutes.
2)  Heat large skillet over medium heat.  Form beef mixture into twelve golf ball-sized balls.  Brown meatballs on all sides, approximately five minutes per side.  Remove and keep warm.
3)  Combine soup and paprika in skillet, stirring until thoroughly combined.  Add sour cream and milk.  Heat over low heat until bubbling, approximately five minutes.  Add meatballs to sauce, cover and simmer 10-20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
4) Cook pasta according to directions.  Serve with meatballs and sauce.


(Hopefully) Useful Suggestion:  for a little variety, substitute ground turkey for the beef!

Free Book Giveaway Winners!!!!

Here they are, the three winners of the free book giveaway!


Joan Heard
Bev Schlomann
Matt Fisher


We'll be in touch with you shortly!  And a BIG thank you to everyone who entered!

The Island of Scomalt

Here's an interesting story involving a mysterious island to the East of North America.  

Once, long ago, there was an old sorceress whose name was Scomalt.  She ruled justly over an island in the East, and all were at peace with each other, and with the other two islands of the world.  But eventually the people of Scomalt's island grew violent and lawless, and the peace of the island was shattered.  They turned the battle cries of war upon one another, and Scomalt was left with no choice but to destroy them.  She gathered her might and her strength, and pushed the people back until the sea was at their backs, and she was in front of them.  Then, driving her rod into the sand, broke off the piece of the island upon which they stood, and sent it away from her.  It drifted west and, caught in a great gale, dissolved.  Two of the people escaped on a canoe, and the rest perished.  The two that survived landed on the opposite shore of the Great Ocean, and there they settled.  The Okanagan people are descendants of these two.

-The Okanagan, Northwestern United States/Southwestern Canada

The Titan War

In the last three years, I've gained a real appreciation for Greek mythology, particularly the story of the War of the Titans.  This is only a summation of it, but I strongly encourage you to seek out a formal translation of the tale.


When Uranus and Gaia had many children, Uranus attempted to hide and imprison his children, incurring the wrath of his wife.  She fashioned a scythe and, enlisting the help of her son Cronus, castrated the great Titan, setting her son up as King of the Titans (from Uranus' genitals came Aphrodite, The Furies, and the Giants).

The Titans - Oceanus, Hyperion, Coeus, Crius, Cronus, Iapetus, Tethys, Mnemosyne, Phoebe, Theia, Rhea, Themis, Eos, Helios, Selene, Leto, Asteria, Atlas, Prometheus, Epimetheus, Menoetius, Metis, Astraeus, Pallas, and Perses - ruled and reigned, having for themselves many children. 

Cronus himself, marrying Rhea, had many children.  Fearing that they would overthrow him, he devoured them until only Zeus remained.  Rhea hid Zeus, and together they hatched a plot to rescue Zeus' siblings.  Zeus, along with his brothers Hades and Poseidon,  rallied the other gods and goddesses together, and launched a ten-year war against the Titans. 

In the end, Zeus cast his father Cronus into the Abyss of Tartarus, Prometheus was chained to a mountain where his liver was eaten away each day, and Atlas was forced to hold the heavens upon his shoulders.  Of the three siblings, Zeus ascended the throne of Olympus and established the Greek Pantheon.


Almost every culture in the world has an ancient belief in the overthrow of giants.  Seriously.  The Norse myths tell of their gods constantly overthrowing the Frost Giants, the Bible tells us of great violence in the world between man and a race of giants prior to the Flood, Southeast Asian literature tells us of violent giants that terrorized early  mankind, Welsh and Celtic literature tell us that the world was inhabited by giants early on.  The list goes on. 

So when we read that the Titan Cronus, with the aid of his mother, took revenge on his father, only to be slain himself by his own son later, there seems to be an odd harmony with the rest of the world.  Am I saying the Greek Titans, goddesses, and gods were real?  Of course not.  Am I saying they may be based on real people?  Yes.

Particularly when we find the Norse myth that tells us the same story.  Get this:  Ymir, the Giant, was the Father of all Frost Giants.  But a man named Bor emerged, and Bor had three sons.  These three siblings fought against Ymir, killed him, and took leadership of Asgard, setting up the Norse Pantheon.  Oh, and like Zeus, Odin was the only one of the three declared to be the All-Father.  Sound familiar?  Three siblings defeat a giant, and one of the siblings becomes King of the gods.

Is it possible - I'm not asking if we believe this entirely - but is it possible that an early king of men defeated a giant with the help of his brothers?  Is it possible that this happened so long ago that the story has had time to change and evolve into culture-specific versions?  And if it is possible, then wouldn't the Bible's narrative of an early history of giants, a world of violence, and a tower that produced different cultures also be possible? 
 
As a shameless plug, if you're interested in seeing more connections between giant stories from around the world, you can pre-order Giants:  Legends and Lore of Goliaths, here!   

You Confounded, No-Good, Cherry-Picking. . . !

Humanity has a pretty big problem. It isn't nuclear war, a food shortage, or global warming. It isn't the economy, government, or even religion. This problem goes much deeper than that, and it invades our lives the way a virus invades our bodies. The problem is sin, and sin is inescapable. It is all around us, even inside of us, but despite its prevalence, it is one of the most often misunderstood words in the English language - both outside and inside the Christian community.

Most of us (somewhat) incorrectly assume that sin is about our actions.  That is, we believe if we break one of the Ten Commandments, then we have sinned.  To some extent, this is true.  But here is the part many Christians overlook:  God's commandments aren't tied to just ten.  The Ten Commandments, given in Exodus 20 and taking up about seventeen verses, are only a mere portion of the entire Law of God.

 Jungle Fever
The entire Law is found in the Book of Leviticus, and it spans 27 chapters of the Bible - that's more than 830 verses.  So while I may keep the Ten Commandments on any given day (but probably won't), from the  perspective of God's Law, I'm still a sinner.  We all are.  And yet somehow we Christians seem to measure our morality only in terms of the Ten Commandments.  We are quick to point out adultery as a sin (which it is, according to Exodus 20:14), but few - if any - of us ever "rise in the presence of the aged," as we are commanded to do in Leviticus 19:32.  We know that stealing is wrong (Exodus 20:15), but we ignore Leviticus 19:27, which says, "[Men,] do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard." 

And this is the problem in most of our churches:  we choose some laws, believing that God will punish us if we break them, and then ignore other laws, and yet never receive the punishment that we should expect.  And so we justify our own sins, even as we condemn the sins of others.  We point out homosexuality as a sin (which God does say is true), forming coalitions to fight against it.  But when did we last see a Christian coalition fighting against, say, Hinduism?  We condemn our own personal dislikes, but we justify our own lusts.  We make sin synonymous with our own prejudices, and as a result, we cherry-pick which laws we must obey, and which ones are okay to dismiss.  Sometimes (most of the time) those selections are arbitrary.

Is it any wonder people don't understand sin?


All of this, though, misses the point:  sin is not about actions, but about attitude.  Our actions (what we think of as sin) are merely symptoms of a much deeper problem - a problem that has infected all of us.  Homosexuals don't go to hell because they're gay, they go to hell because they're sinners; the sin merely manifests itself as homosexuality.  If you lie, you're not going to hell because you're a liar, you're going to hell because you're a sinner whose sinful nature manifests itself as dishonesty.  God demands perfect obedience, yes, but we don't deliver because our attitudes are wrong.

Now I myself was raised to believe that sin was merely about action - right/wrong, good/bad - and that sometimes attitudes could be sinful, too.  That's not what Christ had to say about the subject, though.  Check it out:

"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.'  But, I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Matthew 5:27-28).

Later on, he says, "So when you give to the needy, don't announce it with trumpets . . . to be honored by men . . . and when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues . . . to be seen by men" (Matthew 6:2,5).

Now, outwardly, everything is lawful.  The husband isn't cheating on his wife, people are giving generously to the poor, and prayers are plentiful.  According to Christ, though, none of this is good because the attitudes are still wrong.  Even when our actions are good, our hearts are still self-serving.  "Be careful," Christ says, "not to do your acts of righteousness before men, to be seen by them" (Matthew 6:1).  In other words, "sinful" actions are merely the outward reflection of a much larger inward problem.  We know this because, even when the outward signs are "good," the inward character is often not.

During Jesus' day, there was a group of people known as the Pharisees.  They were the righteous, holy, Leviticus-abiding religious leaders of the Jewish faith.  They were the absolute picture of righteous obedience, so much so that Jesus actually pays them a compliment in Matthew 5:20:  "For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven."  In other words, the measurement of our actions starts with the Pharisees. 

In theory, it sounds like we should admire these people.  They should be the subject of our studies, the human models by which we live our lives.  In Luke 11:39, however, Jesus has this scathing remark:  "You Pharisees clean the outside of the cup . . . but inside you are full of greed and wickedness."  The outward actions are righteous, but the inward attitude is wicked. In Luke 16:15, he remarks again:  "You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of men, but God knows your heart."  What people see as righteousness, God sees as sin. In Matthew 23:27, Jesus calls them "whitewashed tombs." Outside, they are clean and pure, inside, they are dead, rotting, stinking corpses.


So what, then, do we do with the Law?  Do we obey it?  Reject it?  Reject parts of it?  What's the point of it if our attitudes are always wrong, and, more importantly, grace covers everything?


The Days of Wine and Moses
Before we get into this, I have to admit something:  I love wine.  By that I mean I love the entire process of wine and its production (no, I do not mean that I guzzle a bottle every night!).  Here's why:  did you know that the soil in which the grapes are grown can affect the flavor?  The minerals in the soil and surrounding crops can impact and alter the flavor of the grapes.  So can the length of vine time.  Harvesting the grapes early (or late) will change how the wine turns out. And then there's the length of fermentation time.  The longer the fermenting, the more alcohol and the different the flavor.

Don't forget the ingredients, either.  If I have the same grapes harvested at the same time and fermented for the same length of time, but one vat had twice the sugar added to it as the other, the wines are going to come out tasting different.  All of these reasons are why a chardonnay from Virginia can taste drastically different from a chardonnay from Washington state.  It's why two chardonnay's from the same vineyard can sometimes taste subtly different. 

And the food!  What you pair with the wine can alter the flavor of it, too.  I have had several wines over the years that tasted much better with a meal.  Safe to say, from field to food, wine is completely dependent on its surroundings.  The same thing goes for coffee, too (which is part of why I love coffee so much).

All of this is to say, then, that when Christ chooses to make his last sermon about grapes, I tend to sit up and listen.  He could have talked about his return, since they (I) still had questions about that.  He could have reminded them that he wouldn't stay dead, since they still didn't grasp the concept of his impending resurrection.  But, no, he talked about grapes. 

Before we get into that, though, I want to address something.  We've looked at the fact that sin enslaves, but we've also looked at the fact that sin doesn't alter God's view of us once we have become followers of Christ.  We're told, often in the Scriptures, that we're free from obedience to the Law.  But we're also told - in the same Scriptures - that our Christian lives are to be examples of the Law.

First Thessalonians 4:3-8 even says:  It is God's will that you should be sanctified:  that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God; and that in this matter no one should wrong or take advantage of a brother or sister.  The Lord will punish all those who commit such sins, as we told you and warned you before.  For God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life.  Therefore, anyone who rejects this instruction does not reject a human being but God, the very God who gives you his Holy Spirit.

Did you catch that?  "Live a holy life."  Yet in Hebrews, we read, "By calling this covenant 'new,' he has made the first one obsolete" (Hebrews 8:13).  According to Hebrews, which many believe was written by the same Paul who wrote First Thessalonians, the Law is "obsolete," and yet we're called to live holy lives according to the Law.  What in the world is going on here?  If obedience causes re-enslavement to the Law (which is bad), and disobedience causes re-enslavement to sin (which is also bad), then what are we supposed to do?

This is, I admit, an apparent contradiction in the Bible.  No, really, let's be honest:  it seems to make no sense.  In fact, many people are latching onto this concept and using it as a tool to fight Christianity.  In fact, I just came across this lovely little flow chart designed to completely annihilate the Christian argument against homosexuality.  Makes sense, at least at first glance, right?  Leviticus says, "don't eat bacon," so why do Christians eat bacon?  It says, "don't get a tattoo," but some of us with higher thresholds of pain (i.e., not me) get tattoos.  What's our typical defense when these are pointed out to us?  We're not under the Law, duh!  And, of course, the immediate response is, "Then homosexuality must be okay, right?"

Erp.

Most of us kind of don't know what to say.  I didn't either, for a while.  So let's back up, a bit.  Remember when I accused most of us of picking and choosing the parts of the Law that we should observe?  Well . . . that's sort of what we should do, but - and make sure you get this - it is not in order to satisfy our own desires.  Rather, it is to raise up Christ in our lives; this is where Jesus' sermon about grapes comes in.

In the fifteenth chapter of John, Jesus gives his last sermon before being arrested and crucified.  He and his disciples have just finished their Passover meal (what we commonly call Communion or Eucharist), and they're on their way to the garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus knows He will be betrayed and arrested.  Along the way, He gives them his last sermon, probably pausing to point to the vineyards that they were passing.

"I am the true vine," He utters, "and my Father is the gardener."  Maybe the disciples are confused, maybe they're used to not getting the point right away, or maybe they actually get where he's going with this.  Whichever way it is, he continues.  "I am the vine; you are the branches.  If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit."  A few moments later he reminds them, "This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples."

I'll be the first to admit that it's a bizarre theology, but since it's the last theology Christ presents before his crucifixion, it bears some examination.  What Jesus does here is set up a series of symbols that seems to go something like this:

Gardener = God
Vine = Jesus
Branches = Followers of Jesus
Grapes = Christian's Purpose in Life

We can understand that we are to remain connected to Jesus - that is, we are part of Him once we decide to trust in and follow Him.  We can understand that God, who oversees everything, tends the "garden," pruning here and cleaning there.  But grapes?  Bearing "much fruit"?  What, does that mean?

I believe, just from my own personal life, that most of us interpret "bearing fruit" to mean pretty much whatever we want it to mean.  Jesus, however, never left much to interpretation.  Guidance by the Holy Spirit, yes, but rarely interpretation, and I don't believe this is an instance where he was vague, either.

Check out the last thing he said to his disciples before his Ascension in Acts:  "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1:8).  The last thing he tells them before his crucifixion is, "bear fruit."  The last thing he tells them before he leaves this earth is "be my witnesses."  I think - and maybe I'm going out on a limb here - but I think these are the same thing.

In the first sixteen verses of John 15, Jesus tells them six times that their purpose is to bear fruit.  In Acts 1, he defines it:  be his witness in the city in which you live, the state and country in which you live, and, ultimately, the whole world.

We have but one purpose as believers:  point back to Christ.  John the Baptist put it this way:  "He must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30).  Jesus himself said, "And I, when I am lifted up . . . will draw all people to myself" (John 12:32).  We - that is, our sinful desires - should decrease and be replaced with Christ and His compassionate love for everyone.  Our sole purpose on this earth is not to worship, because that is what we will do in heaven.  Our sole purpose on this earth is not to go to church, because Christ is the Church.  Our sole purpose on this earth is not to have better morals than everyone else, because we don't have better morals on our own.  Our purpose in life on this planet, once we have believed in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, is to point back to him in all aspects of what we do.  This is bearing fruit.  Now, worship is part of that, and church attendance is part of that (essential parts, I would add), but they are not, either of them, our purpose.

And so, we live lives that are centered entirely around Jesus.  While, technically, an affair would be covered by God's grace, having an affair would not point to Jesus, but to me.  Therefore, it is a sin.  Here's the deal, though:  if I find out that eating bacon is drawing people away from Jesus, then I need to stop eating bacon, too (see I Corinthians 8:1-9:23), because my chief aim in life is Jesus.  


The Grapes of Wrath
So what happens when we sin?  I mean, we will sin, even as believers.  We will stop bearing fruit at some point.  It's covered, right?  No punishment, right?  What about consequences?  Is there a difference?  Have you ever thought about it?  For many years, I didn't, because I had usually heard the two terms used interchangeably.  But then I realized that, if consequences for sin now are actually God's wrath, then His wrath wasn't fulfilled on the cross.  Now, point that out, and you'll typically hear something like, "Oh, sure, but God allows consequences to happen."  As if somehow "natural consequences" from God are not the same thing as punishment from God.  It's a peculiar predicament, at least on the surface.  If God, through Jesus Christ, sees us as perfect, and if God, through Jesus Christ, has fulfilled His wrath against our sins, and if God, through Jesus Christ, is fully satisfied with us, then where do we get the goofy idea that He won't punish us, but he'll use natural consequences as a form of . . . . what do we even call it?  Non-punishment discipline?

Do you see how utterly contradictory that is?

And yet consequences do happen.  So are natural consequences from God, or does God simply use them the way He uses everything in life to work for the good of those who know him? 

There is a really, really simple way to know that natural consequences are not the same thing as God's discipline:  they often happen, but they don't always happen.  Be honest with yourself for just a moment.  How many times have you sinned in life and gotten away with it?  If we are still held accountable to the Law, then you sin every time you fail to offer a sacrifice, or fail to rise in the presence of your elders, or if you've ever been pierced, worn synthetic blends, or planted two different crops in your garden at home.  You and I, from the standard of God's Law sin constantly.  We try to rationalize around this by claiming that the Ten Commandments are all we really need to follow, but that's not what God says.  We must fulfill the Law - in its entirety - by keeping it.  And.  We.  Don't.

And yet how many of us suffer punishment for it?  And how many of us suffer the consequences when other people sin?  Remember, our sins affect other people, so is God punishing someone else for our sins?  Is He punishing us for another person's sins?  If consequences - and please pay attention to this - if consequences are God's punishment, then God is an inconsistent disciplinarian. 

God is always consistent.

Now, because I have been criticized for believing that Christians can't suffer consequences, I want to be crystal clear:  we can - and often do - suffer consequences.  My point is that consequences are not punishment from God, but the natural results of either our own, or another person's, actions.  When Christ died for your sins, God's wrath against those sins was fulfilled, and fulfilled completely.  Consequences do not "come from" God (that would be punishment), but, rather, they are used by God  for our benefit:  "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).  God takes everything, good, bad, and indifferent, and uses them for His glory and our good.  All things.  Even bad consequences.

None of this should be our chief concern, however.  You see, when we sin, there is a much greater issue in our lives.  When we sin, we stop bearing fruit; our lives lose their purpose.  This is what John 15 is about.

If you've ever seen a vineyard, it's a pretty remarkable sight.  There's something . . . ancient . . . about them.  No matter where you might be in the world, driving past those rows and rows of vines with their full, luscious grapes on them is like being . . . I don't know, on a 14th century Italian farm.  Or in the French countryside, circa 1680.  Or . . . well, someplace old and traditional. 

There's a funny thing about grapes, though.  As long as the branches of the vine are wrapped around the trellis, everything works pretty smoothly.  You see, in order for the branches to produce grapes, they must remain elevated. 

Every once in a while, though - particularly with new vines - a branch will come undone and fall into the dirt.  Now the branch can no longer produce grapes, at least not grapes of any value.  And then the rains come and all that dirt that has coated the branches and leaves turns into mud, and now the branches can't produce grapes even if they want to.  Since the whole purpose of a vineyard is to produce grapes, when a vineyard stops producing them . . . well, there's no real point in being there, is there? 

This is where the gardener comes in.  You see, as he or she walks the rows, checking on grapes and pruning where necessary, he or she will come across that branch that is lying in the mud, not doing anything special.  What to do?  Cut it off?  Not at all; it's still connected to the vine, it's just dirty.  Besides, the branch is too valuable to be cut off.  After all, it's purpose is to produce grapes, which the vinekeeper would use to make jellies, juice, wine, or, simply, just sell.  No, cutting off your source of income would be foolish, so that is not what he would do.  What he would do is lift it up, clean it off, and place it back on the trellis so that it could produce grapes again.

In John 15, we see the exact same picture painted with "dirty" believers.  The second verse is almost always translated as "He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit," or "He takes away every branch. . . ."  The word that John uses in this passage is airei.  The word does mean "take away," but in the sense of "lifting up" or "bearing on behalf of someone else."  For example, when Christ is on the road to Calvary and he drops the cross, a man named Simon is forced "to take up" the cross for him.  The word airei is used.  When the disciples watched Jesus feed 5,000 people with a small number of fish and loaves of bread, and then they walk around and "pick up" twelve baskets full of leftovers . . . airei.  What's even more interesting is that in verse 3 of John 15, Jesus even says, "You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you."  "Clean," in Greek, is kathairei (note the airei at the end!). 

Get the connection?  When we sin, God does not remove us from the vine, but rather lifts us up, cleans us off, and puts us back . . . even when we've sinned so much and gotten so dirty that we can no longer bear fruit, even if we want to.  This is beautifully illustrated in the story of The Prodigal Son (if you're not familiar with it, look it up.  It's in Luke 15:11-32).  We are declared clean by God, and so are no longer obligated to obey any of the Law, and yet, our entire purpose in life is to point to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, growing in discipleship and obedience to him.  Our purpose is to bear fruit, and the fact remains that when we stop following Jesus, we stop bearing fruit.  When we sin, we live beneath our purpose.  One of the great drives for humanity is to find "meaning" in life.  Christ outlines it for us here in John 15 and throughout his entire ministry:  our meaning is him.  When we stop pointing to him, we waste our lives.


So, no, we don't live "holy lives" to impress God, because we can't impress him.  "All our righteous acts are like filthy rags," the prophet Isaiah writes.  The term, "filthy rags," by the way, refers to menstrual cloth.  "Your good works, compared to Me," says God, "are like used maxi-pads."  Humbling, isn't it?

Nor do we live "holy lives" to impress others.  If what we are doing is pointing to ourselves, then we've made ourselves into gods, and we "should have no other gods before" God (Exodus 20:3). 

And we need no longer live "holy lives" to avoid wrath.  "Therefore,"  Paul writes, "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1).  "No condemnation" is clear; it's hard to interpret that any differently.

We live lives devoted to Christ so that others may come to him.  Remember, Christianity is not about us, but about God and His love, portrayed in Christ.  This is not to say that we have to listen to Christian music, read only Christian books, and say "Jesus is Lord!" after every sentence.  But the compassion and grace that Christ has given us should ooze out of us and into the small parts of the world that we occupy.  Sometimes, this means pointing out sin to others, yes, because it is sin that drives our need for redemption.

And this is where the flowchart gets it wrong.  It makes sin about actions and performing for God.  When we approach homosexuality in conversation, we must bear two things in mind:  none of us can perform well enough to impress God, but believers don't have to.  We can eat bacon, because God has declared us clean (see Acts 10:9-20).  And yet we must also stop living for the selfish desires of the flesh, desires that claim that what God has declared is not good enough.  That, after all is what sin is:  putting ourselves first.  The chief desire of our lives should be to point to Jesus.  If that's not the case with you, then you probably don't know Jesus.  It's not about performance, but about changed lives that raise Christ up so that he may draw others to himself.      

So this week, I hope you'll ponder fruit-bearing.  As you do, take a minute each day to meditate on Romans 12:1-2:  "Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God - this is your true and proper worship.  Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."  As you think about those verses, ask yourself, how do they relate to fruit-bearing?

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