Rest: It's What We're All After

If you are human, especially a human who works or parents other small humans, you probably have ingrained within the framework of your day, a longing for the time in the near future when you can rest.  The kids are sleeping and you have just put up the last dish - you turn out the kitchen light, lock the doors, walk over to the bed, sit on the edge of it, and let out a long, vocal breath as you remove your shoes.

Future times of rest are not alien to human experience. They are part of our image-of-God-ness. Life can feel like a high repetition set in the gym; and as your muscles begin to burn, you tough through "two more" because you know the resistance will be soon removed. That's the rest we are all after - the life of no resistance.

In that life, our desires perfectly align with the desires of others. No one asks us to do what we don't want to do. There is no conflict. No mental or emotional strain that comes from being at odds with another individual. Our lives are "in harmony". They are peaceful.

We long for a life of no worldly resistance, when we will no longer worry about money, sickness, natural disasters, national security, or snakes sneaking in the house. There will be no need to constantly ensure our children are safe - safe from predators, speeding cars, poisonous bugs, maverick illnesses, and/or bullies at recess.  The external world will be for us and not against us. And we will be in harmony with that world. We will be at peace with it.

The longing in every human heart for this peaceful life is by design. It is not a fairy tale or arbitrary convention of men. It is godly in every sense, good in every part, and possible for every person.

The fact that our world is not like this now, is indicative of the fact that something is wrong. The big deep breath of relief at the end of the day comes when things are not chaotic, conflicting or crazy. Those small times are shadows of the way things are supposed to be. They direct us to the Substance in whom all things are right and nothing is wrong. The big deep breath is just a small piece of the biblical concept of hope. It is a glimpse of rest which is only found in Christ - the Prince of Peace.

It is important for our life and the lives of those around us that we understand hope properly. Our obedience is at stake, and our love for others as well. There are at least two errors people make in their quest for ultimate peace.

1) We believe ultimate peace will come in this life through earthly means. We live with the expectation that people will be sinless and not invade our quest for peace. We believe that if we just reach a certain corporate position, make a certain amount of money, and have a certain type of phone, car or spouse, everything will finally be fine.

But ultimate peace will not come in this life and it will most certainly not come through earthly means. This is why we become frustrated with our children when they won't go to sleep. This is why we argue with our spouse when she doesn't meet our selfish expectations. It's why we hoard our money in an over desire for occupational retirement.

2) We also commonly disbelieve that ultimate peace could ever happen. And so we give up. Hopeless singles who have no view of heaven often fall into sexual immorality. Fathers who don't believe in glory run from their responsibilities at home. The executive or athlete that didn't make the cut are suddenly confronted with the reasonableness of pointing a revolver at themselves. The 18 year old who thought life outside of their parents home would provide ultimate freedom, finds himself consuming any substance (or person) he can find in an effort to deal with the reality of his conflicted conscience.

We will do anything (moral or not) to make this life different (tattoos, irresponsible vacations, substance abuse, or whatever), because we have lost all hope for heaven. Live it up today, for tomorrow we die.

But if Christ is risen, if he is real, then we have a good reason to enjoy those small times of rest without over-desiring them. When our expectations are interrupted at night by a sick child, we can let go and shift our ultimate hope heavenward. When our spouse is less-than-perfect, we can patiently love with our hope fixed in glory - when they will be all that we knew they could be (and more).

And until that glorious day comes, we can "now" find shade in the shadows of rest, knowing that the Substance is soon to come and bring us home. It will happen Christian. And when he comes on the clouds, you can take that eternally long, restful breath. Life will forever be peaceful.

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Six Reasons Why Denominations are a Good Thing

There are apparently thousands of evangelical Christian denominations. Most people are familiar with only a few - Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, etc. There are those who have ecumenical goals and are "non-denominational." But even they are a denomination in themselves.  Because of this diversity in evangelicalism, it is not uncommon to hear indictments that these churches are less than unified, loving and/or tolerant of one another. Denominationalism seems to be the glaring blemish on the face of Protestantism.

I don't think it has to be this way. Certainly, there are blemishes; but blemishes are everywhere in a fallen world. This doesn't make the blemishes right, but only admits the reality that the Church survives as a fellowship of saved sinners. This being said, blemishes don't have to eclipse the beauties that lie within the realm of diverse denominational Christianity. Just because a person is a sinner, doesn't mean that we cannot also call them, in another sense, a saint.

Being an ordained minister in the PCA, I live with the reality that I am not ordained in, say, the Baptist church. When I speak with ministers of other denominations, there are differences between us - even disagreements. We know this. It is the truth of our religious situation. I am of the strong opinion that we can use our differences in these matters as wonderful opportunities to love. Yes, the verse still rings true for us, "they shall know we are Christians by our love."

I am implying that denominationalism is loving for many reasons. Here are just a few of them.

First, denominationalism helps us to know each other better. Knowledge is often the best means to deepening our love for others. When I know what denomination my brother or sister is a part of, I immediately place him or her within a categorical sphere. I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing if done with love. It is good for us to know where we stand. By knowing, we can both make an informed decision when standing with one another in love.

Second, denominationalism reminds us that a person doesn't have to be right in order to be loved. This truth should ring every Christian ear, as well as flow frequently from every Christian tongue. It is a testimony to a person's Christ-likeness that being right is not a prerequisite for being loved. When denominations willingly embrace one another in love, we embody this truth.

Third, denominationalism protects us from being blindsided by off-the-wall beliefs. A person who will not side with common and clear denominational standards is like a knuckle ball pitcher. You don't really know what to expect. This is simply less than loving. Helping others manage expectations is one of the best things we can do for another person. Most people don't enjoy surprises. Denominationalism eliminates the anxiety associated with the possibility of a theological mine blowing up in your face.

Fourth, denominationalism is a constant call for communal humility. Sure, we may have a healthy level of pride in our church's standards; but for the most part, being at odds with another image bearer, on any big or small point of doctrine, should humble us. Humility is a breading ground for love.

Fifth, if we move forward in humility, we can become stronger in our Christian convictions. When someone I love believes something else, I am more encouraged to consider their words and worldview. We are not persuaded to believe what they believe in order to be in relationship with them (we've already established this doesn't have to happen); but out of respect for them, we listen and value what they believe. When considering their point of view through the lens of Scripture (our only unquestionable authority), we can either stand firm in our convictions, or we can stand corrected - and this without a war, because of love.

Finally, denominationalism should bring us all to hope in heaven. Denominations are only necessary in a fallen world. But one day the world will not be fallen. We will not be fallen. Therefore, denoms will be wholly unnecessary. At that time, everyone who has simply placed their faith in the risen Savior, Jesus Christ, will live without sin and disagreement together, forever. Let the Church say, "Amen."

There are plenty of issues I did not address in this post. I simply don't have the time or space for an exhaustive work on the epistemological complexities of denominational Christianity. My purpose is only to state, and show, that denominationalism doesn't have to be only a blemish on the face of Protestant Christianity. And that it can be a wonderful opportunity for Christians to show off the love of our common Lord.

Will Our Grandchildren Be Rich?

With the steady decline of the moral state of America, and with the increasing weight of debt our nation seems to be accumulating, it doesn't take a genius to reasonably postulate that the sun may be setting on the American international enterprise. The camel's back is bending. Any number of straws are ready to add the final breaking blow.

Jesus spoke of how a person should be able to interpret the times. So, I don't think the previous paragraph to be completely uncalled for. Sure, there are some fanatics out there with an artillery in their basement next to their ten-year supply of canned goods. These folks are looking for a national conspiracy under every political rock. I'm not one of those guys, and this post is not the revealing of some proposed conspiracy.

Being a father of four, it is difficult to hear the older generation say things like, "I don't necessarily fear what will happen during our lifetime. It's your grandchildren that I fear for," and not take at least some of what they mean seriously. It is difficult to keep from building strategies to prepare my children now for what they will face when they have children of their own.

Wisdom should remind us of the difficulty of this task. The strategies that will carry a person through difficult times are not superficial "how-to's" but ideological movements of being.

In other words, we ought not be so worried about what our children and grandchildren will do during their lifetime, but what they will be. Should they lose the luxuries of our everyday life, will they be blessed? Should Christian activities be prohibited by law, will they be Christian? Should poverty come upon them, will they be rich? And should they lose their lives, will they be saved?

I don't really know if I am fanatical or not. But I am a bit overwhelmed by the task, not only to actively teach my children what to do (practical steps are necessary in life), but also (and more importantly) to passively teach them how to be. I fear I am failing this task miserably.

And then I am reminded and encouraged of the gospel of grace. Not that it removes my obligations, but that it fulfills them in Christ. It is the gospel that reminds me that should every national sun set, Christ is supremely sufficient to shine through. I may not be there to teach my grandchildren about treasures in heaven. And I may not be there to supply and support with Christian values.

But Christ will. He is more significant than I. He is more powerful than I. And he is closer to my children than I will ever be. I hope and trust that he will use this sinner, along with many other means, to prepare our children for what lies ahead.

Paris Can Wait

The Bible tells us this life is not all there is. If the Scriptures are true, there is a resurrection from the dead, whereby people are "glorified". We will be given new bodies which are not subject to decay, disease, and sin. Our thoughts about this glorification should have a significant impact on our lives now. According to 1 Corinthians 15, there is only one of two lives to live - a life that believes in the resurrection and a life that doesn't.

The resurrection is both spiritual and physical. Because the Lord has created both "realms" both are very important. Neither one is to be neglected. In other words, in eternity, we will probably not be floating around like ghosts; but will more than likely walk around as people (kind of like now but better).

Along with the resurrection comes the recreation. Our bodies will be new (1Cor 15), and so will the heavens and the earth (2Pet 3:11-13). The creation presently groans for this (Rom 8). It will be a creation without decay, disease, and the effects of sin. Revelation 21 gives ample descriptions of what the new heaven and earth will look like. I struggle with believing it will be that good.

The thought and reality of the new heavens and the new earth should also cause us to live differently. We should shape our lives around the fact that this world will one day not be like it is now. Holiness and godliness are a few words to describe how we should be as we long for the coming day of the Lord, when the transition will begin.

The new earth will be more real to us than the old one. There will be one day, in a million years or so, when we look back on this present "breath of life" and shake our heads. We will wonder why we loved it too much. We will wonder why we labored too hard to see all of it, as if we would not have an eternity to do so.

In other words, Paris can wait. The pyramids can wait. The trip to Australia can wait (note for all you travelers out there - notice I did not say Australia should wait. I could not possibly lay that upon your conscience).

The common saying, "I must see [said geographical location] before I die", has no place in the Christian experience. Sure, we may travel as resources permit; albeit in a way that brings glory to God (1Cor10:31). But, there is absolutely no temporal pressure to do so.

For some reason, we have allowed eschatology to fall from its rightful place as the reason for our soteriology (cf. Col 1:3-5).

Given this theological shift, our desire to travel overshadows our obligation to disciple; and our excitement for Europe has eclipsed the expediency to evangelize. And so we are of all people most pitiful. But we are only so if the resurrection and recreation are true. If they are not true, we are pretty smart. We should make every effort to see every speck of geography before we die.

If we never die, however, imagine the possibilities. Imagine the new places. Imagine the glory of a recreated Paris, Egypt, and Australia. And imagine having no less days to visit those places than when we had first begun. O, glorious day! It makes all the sense in the world to labor with all our might storing up treasures in this heaven - living sacrificially now, that we may enjoy our eternal reward then.

A Possible Story Behind the Suicides of NFL Athletes

Imagine being 17 years old and having millions of people hanging on your decisions. Imagine being a physical specimen at an early age, so much so that your abilities are the topic of everyday discussion for many grown men. Your picture is everywhere. Signs are made with your name on them. And it is not uncommon for you to hear tens of thousands of people shouting your praise.

The only distinction between you and the common man is that you can play the game better. The game gives and allows liberties that most will never know. And you are one of the very few who regularly experience the intoxicating surge of public praise.

You are an athlete in the 21st century - the height of human experience and the object of everyone's worshipful attention. With very little regard for who you are, it seems as if everyone loves you for what you are. The only problem is you are not mature enough to know the difference.

Even as a baby, the beer was in your bottle. As soon as you could grab a ball, you heard things like, "You're gonna be a football player one day." You also learned from a very early age that this must be your goal in life if you are to excite your father's attention at all. He screams for those players on television; but when you come home from school with an "A", all you get is a pat on the back. It just makes sense. Your survival lies in the game.

And you finally make it. You sign on with a division-I ball team and do well enough to make it on draft day. You've always heard that this is all you need to retire. The checks have started, surely they will never stop. You've been a player all of your life. You are bigger than life. It will never end. Again, you have made it.

Self-control is something that you were never taught. Those liberties you received as a star athlete have served only to cripple you for the responsibilities of manhood. So you run back to the game, and surround yourself with others who seek their refuge in the game as well. Clothes, cars, homes and jewelry fill the void you are now noticing - but only for a little while.

There is something deep inside of you saying, "I have made it. Why am I still searching?" You answer by holding on tighter. Game day is not too far away. Everyone will love you tomorrow.

Two years fly by. They are a blur. The next star in line starts nudging you out of the way. He's better than you and you know it. Things that you have done and possessions that you have bought are now responsibilities that linger over your head day and night. There was a time when you got a check. Now you need the check. Once you caught life, now life is catching you.

Then it happens. You're done. Whether by injury or whatever, you are forced into retirement. The checks have stopped. The praise on Sundays is over. Liberties have been replaced by liabilities. The doors of freedom are now slammed shut. In a matter of days, you are a nobody. A has-been. Now people begin paying attention to who you are rather than what you are. You are now old enough to feel the difference. And it hurts. It hurts bad.

From the beginning of your life, sports were your life. Now sports are gone. The logic isn't very difficult to follow. Life is not worth living anymore. I can only imagine this may very well be the story of O.J. Murdock and others like him. Behind all of the muscle, speed and talent lies a boy who was never taught how to be a man. He was never warned about life outside of the sport. And when life catches him, he has no where to turn but to end himself. This is nothing short of tragedy.

Three People You Must Have in Your Life

There are three types of people every Christian should have in his or her life. The Christian life is one lived in community where people are sharpened, encouraged, convicted, and edified by other people. One of the biggest ploys of the enemy is to get the believer alone, believing that his life is better off lived that way. Alone we atrophy; but in community we are pruned by the uniqueness of the other as we grow as the family of God.

With this said, each Christian should have at least one mentor, companion, and disciple in his or her life. To say it differently, we should have a Paul, a Barnabas, and a Timothy to commune with in this earthly wilderness. Two of these are easy, while one is less so.

A mentor is someone you look up to. They are more seasoned in the faith. Their Christian life is one you admire and seek to exemplify. A mentor should not be a dead person or author. This would be a cop-out. Rather, he or she must be one who is in your life, who loves you and cares for your well being. Your mentor must be strong and intentional enough to confront your sins, address your weaknesses, and encourage your strengths. He or she should be able to lead you to the finish line of faith.

A companion is a little different than a mentor. Barnabas was a companion to Paul as Joshua was to Caleb. Companions are typically on the same spiritual plane as we are. The flow of benefits and needs tends to go both ways. While a mentor knows more about what it means to be [like] Christ, a companion knows more about what it means to be you. They can relate better and tend to know more about you than any other. Companions know all your junk and strive to address all of that junk redemptively. Mentors lead you to the finish line of faith, while companions carry you across.

A disciple is the most difficult person to have in your life. They are a Timothy to Paul, and a Joshua to Moses. They follow you, listen to you, and seek to exemplify things about you. To state it differently: you lead them, you teach them, and you live a life before them worthy of exemplifying. They are spiritual children. You must care enough to confront their sins, help their weaknesses, and encourage their strengths.

Mentors and companions tend to fill us, while disciples tend to drain us. This sounds more negative than it really should. There are enjoyable things we do that fill us (like eating); and there are enjoyable things we do that drain us (like playing a sport).

Quite honestly, if there is one person lacking in most people's lives, it is the disciple. We live in a culture that is overpopulated with the "married-without-children" social group. We like being fed, but often resist feeding others. We like being taught, but resist teaching others. We like choosing our biblical subjects, but resist learning what someone else needs to know. This whole Christian thing is great, as long as I don't have to be inconvenienced by the needs of someone less sanctified. Too many people believe they need to "enjoy their Christianity" before they have "christian children."

If mentors and companions fill our heads with theology, disciples tend to drag that theology into our hearts. Because this is a painful process of "losing one's life" and "carrying one's cross" we tend to neglect the disciple making process. Evangelism now becomes risky. What if they believe? If they accept Christ, they become a spiritual newborn we must feed, care for, and raise up in the faith.

Mentors and companions may tell us to get into the Word, but disciples force us to get into the Word. They ask questions and need answers. They need theology that is processed and more digested. Most disciples need the spiritual bread of good doctrine that has been baked in the oven of our own experience. Disciples do a great deal of keeping us in the faith. If we fall, they may fall. If we grow, they stand a greater chance to grow. Therefore, we cannot fall; we must grow.

This concept is nothing new. You may have read it in a book or heard your friend or pastor talking about it. Nevertheless, it is needed. I hope this encourages you.