Make All Things New

I had the opportunity to preach the last time our church was able to meet (due to the 24 inches of snow in Philly last weekend). The text was John 11. I’d love your feedback.

John 11 – Extraordinary Hope

I have been reading a book called “A Praying Life” by Paul Miller which I highly recommend. Yesterday, I read a short portion that served me well. I am seeing so many people suffering around me, so many lacking joy as they seek to find a way out of their suffering. This reminder from Miller was greatly encouraging to me and I hope to share it with others.

“The Father wants to draw us into the story of his Son. He doesn’t have a better story to tell, so he keeps retelling it in our lives.” That means that we endure suffering and pain that seems like it should be avoidable, seems like it shouldn’t happen so that we can display the gospel in our lives. The gospel is the best story and we are privileged to “share in  [Jesus'] sufferings” (Philippians 3:10).

That is good and true, and here is the piece that is breathtaking to me. Miller writes, “If we stop fighting and embrace the gospel story God is weaving in our lives, we discover joy.” We find joy in submitting to the story God is writing with our lives! Joy comes through faith in God! God is doing so many things with our lives right now and we only see just a few of them. His story has a great ending that will suffice.

Gospel growth isn’t easy, but it is good because the Author of the Story is Good. So, I pray that we all are submitted to God as he tells his story through our lives. Soli Deo gloria.

This video was taken prior to his undergoing brain surgery. Very encouraging!

There’s a guy in our neighborhood that is quite a sight to see (well, I guess there are quite few people in the neighborhood that are quite a sight to see — myself included on many occasions). This man is a crossing guard but he is oh so much more than a mere crossing guard. He wears the fluorescent yellow vest and guides the kids safely across the streets but to end there would not tell the full story. He also wears a radio that broadcasts the local police and fire activity and walks around as if he is a policeman. He looks out for suspicious people (often waiting to see if they will do anything illegal). When I have spoken with him, he talks with great authority as if he is the one who keeping the streets safe from crime and trouble. He does his job well to be sure, yet he does it with a bit of overconfidence that makes it humorous to observe. Just this morning I saw him single handedly stop a huge truck by raising his hand with all the authority of Moses parting the Red Sea. He really gets into his work!

Now, I don’t want to come down on this guy for doing a good job. We should all aspire to work with such vigor. All the same, it is funny to see someone act as though they are something they are not. His job is important and needed, valuable in and of itself yet he still pretends that he is really a policeman, acting as if that were the case. In the process, he seems a bit odd, even ridiculous.

I’ve heard Jerry Seinfeld say that “all men consider themselves as kind of a lower-level superhero.” As if we are really capable of doing things that we aren’t or we don’t have the authority to do. We tend to think we are better, greater and more important than we really are. In short we think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think (and we probably think too often of ourselves than we ought as well!).

In many ways, I’m no different then the policeman-wannabe-crossing-guard. I often think of myself as a better person than I really am. My heart grows proud because I do something good that would please God. Other times I think I am better than I really am because I actually served Jill without prompting. Or I think I am a better because I spend time teaching and praying with my children. While all of these are good things to aspire to be, they become idols when I place my worth and identity in them.

The truth is, if my identity is in my ability to do things to please God, I will ultimately come undone. If my identity is in being a husband to Jill, I will fail her and myself. And if my identity is my children or in being a parent, I will not “train them up in the way they should go.” Making any of these roles as my ultimate identity is in many ways no different from the crossing guard pretending he is really a policeman. On my own, by my own merit, I am unable to please God, love my wife or raise my children. If I make any of those roles my ultimate identity, I am set on a course for failure, disappointment and pain because I am trying to make something I am not define who I am.

But this does not lead me to despair. Because while I struggle with my natural desire to be a “lower-level superhero”, the greatest Hero ever, Jesus, has rescued me from myself – taking my sin and giving me his righteousness. My identity is no longer based on what I do or have done. My identity is the one given to me by Christ. He who knew no sin became sin so that in him we might become the righteousness of God! (2 Corinthians 5:21) If this gospel truth truly penetrates my heart, I don’t have to live or die by how I serve God but rather see that God already loves we and am compelled to serve God because of how great he is! I no longer have think I am only good if I serve Jill well but am actually freed to love her like Christ loves the church because I have experience that love through the gospel. And I don’t consider myself a better person because I teach and pray with my kids but I am humbled and excited by the opportunity to proclaim the Good News to my children and ask God to transform them through his gospel.

So maybe the the crossing guard’s issue isn’t that he is aiming too high in pretending he is a policeman. He just is failing to see that through faith in Christ, through the gospel, he’s could actually identify with something far superior!

The gospel exposes our pretending. It shows us that we’re not as good as we think we are. Yet it also tell us that because of Christ’s work on the cross, we’re actually better than we think we are. We need not try to prove that, we simply have to believe it.

This city is totally broken. That would probably lead me to utter despair if it weren’t for the hope God has given us in Christ – the hope in the things unseen versus those that are seen. (2 Corinthians 4:18) It takes very little time to see that things “aren’t the way they’re supposed to be” here in Philadelphia.

For example, just look at the amount of garbage, literal trash, that is strewn about the streets. I have lived in a few of the country’s 100 large cities (Los Angeles, San Francisco and Santa Rosa) yet Philadelphia is by far the dirtiest. The first couple of times I saw people throw their fast food bags into the streets, I admit I was a bit surprised and I really didn’t know how to respond. Do I yell at them to pick it up? Do I try to explain how damaging that can be? Do I just stand there with my mouth wide open in disbelief?

This week, I parked next to the water drain on our block, I noticed the smell was more like garbage than actually old rain water (not to mention that it was nearly filled with trash)! In many ways, the streets of our city have become the people’s trash can. The disregard for cleanliness and sanitation is saddening to me. It’s as though there is no regard for what happens when trash backs up water drains or what the consequences of garbage in the streets might be. Seemingly no thought for how their trash taints the beauty of this city. How the smells take away from the scene. How the unsightly piles of trash mar the beauty of the city’s weathered brick row homes.

Look, I write this not as a rant against Philadelphians and the municipal services nor as a call for environmental awareness (though all are probably warranted to some degree), I write this because in it I see a picture of the gospel.

Like the people throwing trash into the streets, I “throw” my garbage on God’s holiness more often than I’d like to admit. I doubt His promises. I question His goodness. I forget His faithfulness. My sin is like a pile of trash in the streets of God. I am often unsightly and not good reflection of His beauty. But God doesn’t yell “Hey! Pick that up you’re making a mess of the place!” No not at all. He steps in to my mess and cleans up my trash for me. Not only that, He empowers me to stop littering. Sure, it’s a slow process (I’m a pretty messy individual) but through His Son, I am cleaned up.

The problem in Philadelphia isn’t a lack of trash cans, it’s a lack of gospel transformation. It’s the lack of people who have been changed by the gospel, living to see others changed by the gospel. Knowing what God has done for me and in me, perhaps the proper response to seeing people throw trash on the city streets is simply to go and pick it up myself.

Saw a couple screaming at each other in a truck on a busy road. She got out the truck in traffic yelling at him. Realized that as bad as it was with him, it was safer than being in the street, so she got back inside…. This world is so broken.

There have been multiple robberies at gunpoint in the neighborhood next to us. People are looking for peace…. This world is so broken.

The Northeast’s largest strip club recently opened just blocks from our church. Many will seek satisfaction in things that don’t satisfy. Many families will be destroyed because of this. How many kids won’t have their daddy tuck them in tonight because they are paying a woman to undress? How many women will feel unwanted because of man’s sin? How many women will falsely feel wanted when it is only to satisfy sinful urges of cowardly men…. This world is so broken.

There’s a guy typing this blog who thinks, even for a second, that because he doesn’t go to these clubs, he is somehow better than the guys that do…. This world is so broken.

There’s a God who created the universe simply by speaking it into existence and Who upholds existence by the Word of His mouth…. This God is so holy.

There’s a God who created man and woman to live in perfect peace and harmony; in shalom. A God who Himself lives in perfect shalom in three persons…. This God is so holy.

There is a God who in his infinite perfection has “eyes too pure to look on evil, and you cannot tolerate wrong.” (Habakkuk 1:13)…. This God is so holy.

There is a God who uses even our own evil to vindicate His great name (Ezekiel 36:22, 23)…. This God is so holy.

There is a God who is so incomprehensibly perfect that even beings created to worship Him must cover their eyes in His presence as not to be struck down by His glory (Isaiah 6:2-3)…. This God is so holy.

There is a Savior who was separated from His Father so that His enemies might be reconciled to Him and each other…. This Gospel is so sufficient.

There is a Savior who gave up shalom so that those in pain might find shalom…. This Gospel is so sufficient.

There is a Savior who went to the places “good people” didn’t, seek the broken, the prostitute, the orphan the widow, the drunkard, to offer them living water that truly satisfies. (John 4:13-14)

There is a Savior who lived a perfect life, died a brutal death and rose again in victory over Satan, Sin and Death…. This Gospel is so sufficient.

There’s a Savior who, even though perfectly righteous, takes your sin as His own and gives His righteousness to those who believe…. This Gospel is so sufficient.

We recently finished working through Genesis 1-4 on Sunday mornings at ReaLife. I’ve been thinking a lot about seeing Jesus in Genesis 3 (The Fall). I had some thoughts I was hoping to blog but frankly, mi buen hermano has written an excellent post on the subject. I believe Anthony is right to see Jesus through contrast and his insights are a blessing and an encouragement. You should check it out!

Mark Gali recently wrote in Christianity Today:

Francis of Assisi is said to have said, “Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.”

This saying is carted out whenever someone wants to suggest that Christians talk about the gospel too much, and live the gospel too little. Fair enough—that can be a problem. Much of the rhetorical power of the quotation comes from the assumption that Francis not only said it but lived it.

The problem is that he did not say it. Nor did he live it. And those two contra-facts tell us something about the spirit of our age.

I have to admit, I’ve never liked that quote so it was encouraging to read this article.

All too often I like to think that there is truth in it (but that is just sin creeping in). The gospel is a message proclaimed not a deed done. Acts of mercy can point people to the gospel but they will never save anyone. O that I would have more boldness in heralding the Good News and not trying to hide behind my good works.

Let’s welcome the shame of the Gospel! For the law can produce pride. While the law was intended to convict us of our sin. if we keep it at all, it can produce pride and arrogance. In my sinfulness, if I keep the law (to any small degree), I often begin to think of myself as better than others. “I didn’t lust today. Those other guys are sorry, porn-addicts.” Or, “I prayed with Jill today, I am such a good husband. Probably better than most”

That is disgusting! Even more so when you recognize that fulfilling the law would never gain me righteousness (as if I could fulfill the law!). Romans 3:20 says: “For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin.” The law was given not so that I could fulfill it and think highly of myself, but so that I would look to the only righteous One who ever did fulfill the law.

How twisted am I that I can find a way to boast in my failure? For even keeping one portion of the law (apart from faith in Christ) would do no eternal good. Yet, I would brag about how good a law-keeper I am? How ridiculous!

You see, as a human, I naturally like the law because I naturally like to make much of myself. If I keep the rules (even in part), I can feel good about myself. The Gospel brings shame because the concept of a savior is shameful and humbling. Needing a savior says at least two things about me. First, it shows that I am broken and in need of help. Second, the need for a savior shows that I am totally incapable of rescuing myself.

So, prior to faith in Christ, my situation is as a broken sinner who needs outside help because I can’t fulfill a law that, even if I could, would never make me righteous. What a wretched situation to be in! In recognizing my need for a rescue, my need for the Savior, the Gospel of Jesus Christ shames my foolish pride showing me His great worth and my great lack. Yet it simultaneously brings great joy because Jesus’ perfect righteousness is credited to me and my sin is taken on by Him.

But as Anthony implied in his post, the Gospel isn’t just shaming at the point of conversion, the Gospel shames our pride throughout the running of the Christian race. Pride builds up because my flesh still wants recognition and esteem! “Look at me! Look at me!” And then I am reminded of the Gospel. The only Perfect One was crushed on account of my sins. I am so “great” that the Spotless Lamb of God had to be murdered to pay for my “greatness”. One glance at the cross of Calvary and I am reminded of the extreme cost of my sin. The Gospel shames me and my pride is crushed anew. I am reminded of the righteousness that I did not earn yet was freely given. But God doesn’t leave us there. While Christ became my sin and atoned for it, I was also given an alien righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21). So I am thankful the Gospel brings shame and eternally grateful that it never leaves us there.