Things Revealed

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me,'' Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men."

Matthew 4:18-20

“Come, follow me” were the very first words Jesus spoke to Peter and Andrew. No doubt he Lord knew who he was calling, because the very next verse says, “At once they left their nets and followed him.

Every believer hears the Lord’s call to follow him. Sometimes it is the power of the word that draws us to Christ, or maybe a gentle whisper. Sometimes events do. And sometimes it’s truth revealed that causes us to see clearly. After all, it was Jesus who told Pilot, "You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me." Pilot dismissed this claim summarily with the infamous words, “What is truth?” and men and women have been wrestling with this question and their response to it ever since.

It says of Peter and Andrew that they followed Jesus “at once.” For many of us, we were slow to hear and maybe even slower to respond. But the Lord is loving and patient and while it is still “today,” he has warned us with these words: “if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.”

So for those who choose Christ, we follow him and learn of his kingdom; we follow him to the Body of Christ where we can fellowship with other believers; or we follow him wherever He leads us, whether it’s to family and friends, to the office or to the ends of the earth to preach the Gospel.

Anyway you cut it, there’s a lot of following to a lot of different places. And along the way to victory in Christ, there’s a lot of heartache, betrayal and confusion. There’s rejection by unbelievers. There’s misunderstanding and human frailties within the Body of Christ. And there are trials that come no matter how closely we walk with the Lord. In the end, or at least at the point we think we are at the end, we can feel defeated, unworthy and unloved as we try to navigate the world, the church and our own doubts about what we are doing for the Lord and how well we’re doing it.

But take heart. Virtually every man or woman God has used to accomplish his purposes struggled with the same issues. Because God uses pressure and trials and doubt and pain to perfect something Christ-like in us no matter which path the Lord has led us down.

Look at Peter. “Come follow me,” the Lord said, and he did. Then he had the most remarkable life—here’s a few highlights just from the Gospels:

• He’s the one who first said “you are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
• He’s the one who found the coin in the fish’s mouth.
• He tried to walk on water.
• He was at the mount of transfiguration with Jesus, Moses and Elijah.
• He also fell asleep in the garden of Gethsemane when Jesus asked him to pray.
• He cut off Malchus’ ear with a sword when they came to arrest Jesus.
• And he’s the who denied Jesus three times, just as the Lord predicted he would.

In that moment of personal failure Peter wept bitterly, wondering if he was wrong about who he thought he was, about how far he had come and about his calling. So when it looked like the end had come, he went back to fishing. No ministry. No calling. Just work. He no longer felt qualified to serve and had somehow lost his way despite the profound life he had been living as one of Jesus’ disciples.

But look at Peter’s last discussion with the risen Lord (John 21: 11-22), the one where Jesus restored him:

Simon Peter climbed aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"

"Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."

Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"

He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."

The third time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my sheep. I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go." Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, "Follow me!"

Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, "Lord, who is going to betray you?") When Peter saw him, he asked, "Lord, what about him?"

Jesus answered, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me."

Peter’s restoration came when Jesus spoke directly to his broken disciple, asking him repeatedly whether he loved him and commissioning Peter, after each response, to feed his sheep. But perhaps the final words of restoration and reorientation were the most important, because they held the ultimate keys to his ministry, and to ours. Jesus' very last words to Peter were these: “follow me.”

Same as his first words.

Jesus says the same thing when we lose our way or grow weary, when we feel frustrated or unappreciated and when we think we are no longer qualified to serve him: “Follow me.”

That’s how your walk with God and your ministry began.

That’s how it is sustained.

And that’s how it keeps on track.

With all that you’ve accomplished or seen or failed at or forsaken, with all the questions that arise about where you’re heading, where you are and where you’ve been, Jesus reorients with the same two words: “Follow me.”

As the Book of Acts reports, Peter clearly got his bearings after hearing and responding to these words.

The same is true for us. When we wander off the narrow path or lose our way, God shows us the way back by saying "Follow me."

The next step is up to us.

It always is.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:29-30

How can Jesus lovingly assure us that he is “humble in heart” when he is the same God of the Universe who created the heavens and the earth, who for six days spoke creation into existence and who later thundered so intensely from the cloud over Mt. Sinai that the people of God trembled in fear for their lives.

And how can he tell us he is “gentle” when he is the God who drowned the entire Egyptian army in the Red Sea, who opened the earth to swallow the rebellious Moses opposers, Kora, Dathan and Abiram, and also appeared as the hand that wrote on the walls of Belshazzar’s banquet that the king had been “weighed in the balance and found wanting” just hours before he was slain?

Maybe “Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."

We do not want to be foolish or cavalier when it comes to God. We have the freedom to choose him as our savior, our deliverer, our father and friend. Or to reject him. Worse, we can actually oppose him, denounce him and make him our enemy. But being God’s enemy comes with a cost. As the Lord proclaimed to the people of Israel, “he will not be slow to repay to their face those who hate him.” Jesus put it this way: “He who is not with me is against me.”

That is why scripture warns that “It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God,” and asks, Who can stand in the day of his wrath?

It is not so terrible, however, to be embraced by him. To be drawn and even courted by him. In fact it is a wondrous thing. “The Lord, whose name is Jealous,” is patient and longsuffering as he waits for us to make up our minds or to return. He wants us to come to him, not run from him. He wants us to choose him above all else. He loves us so much he is willing to wait for us as we squander our affections elsewhere or are led astray, and to forgive us for the sins we commit along the way. His unconditional love captures our heart. Or as the Apostle John observed, “we love because he first loved us.”

But here’s the amazing thing: The all-powerful God of the Universe and God of Vengeance, who comes as fire, as thunder, as the earth-swallowing God who is not slow to oppose to their face those who hate him, comes to his friends—to those whose hearts are toward him—in gentleness and humility. To Moses, he came as a burning bush. To Abraham, as a man walking, someone who broke bread with him, a friend. To Jacob, in a dream and then as a man willing to wrestle with him about the things that matter most. And to Elijah, as “a gentle whisper.”

To the rest of us, he came as helpless and humble as is humanly possible: As a baby. He grew up among us. He taught. He shared. He suffered. He submitted to earthly authority. He willingly gave himself over to the Romans, was beaten and refused to defend himself or move in the power that was rightfully his, and ultimately, he took on our sins as a man forsaken and cursed.

Isaiah described him this way:

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before her shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.

It doesn’t get more gentle and humble than this.

Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

We are the friends he died for. Jesus volunteered for the difficult part and told us "it is finished." Our part is simple: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me…” With unmatched gentleness and humility, Jesus extends his hand of forgiveness to us instead of the hand that writes you have been found wanting. It’s still not too late to receive it.

Even if it's not the first time.

All it takes is that we also be gentle and humble in heart.

And that we surrender.

To choose otherwise would be a terrible thing.

For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.

Deuteronomy 4:24

It is amazing how much we understand about our world and just how little we really know. We dwell in the midst of God’s creation and barely appreciate its majesty, its miraculousness or its mystery. From the secrets of what makes our heart beat to the vastness of the universe in which our spinning globe hurtles through space, God’s handiwork can both capture our imaginations or be missed entirely. Such is the nature of the God who reveals and conceals all at once. But once revealed—by his creation, by his love and intervention in our lives, by his son Jesus Christ—a profound transformation occurs in us. He becomes the object of our fascination, the desire of our heart and the love of our life.

He consumes us.

In fact, he more than consumes us: he is a consuming fire, a jealous God. Like a dry summer wildfire igniting everything in its path, God wants to burn up all the wood, hay and stubble in our lives — the deceptions, the sin and the lies that lead us away from him. He wants the depth of his love and the profoundness of his righteousness to capture our hearts and to cause us to plumb the deep waters of his Kingdom and of his only begotten son. And because we are made in his image, he wants us to love him with the same consuming focus with which he loves us. That is what holy jealousy is. That is why he is called El Qanna.

He is jealous for us when we turn to sin. He is jealous for us when our affections lead us astray. And he is jealous for us when we are consumed by our own unregenerate emotions because that is the path of destruction. It is the place where the King of our lives is dethroned in our hearts and his power is usurped by unholy passions. Whether we hate with white hot intensity, allow burning anger to blind us or are ignited with lust or vengeance, we have “disobeyed the Lord by burning before him the wrong kind of fire, different than he had commanded.” For Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, the consequence was death when "fire blazed forth from the Lord’s presence and burned them up." For us, it’s spiritual death—separation and estrangement from the King of Kings.

Jesus is the God of Forgiveness. Even on the cross, he forgave those who drove the nails into his hands and feet. His unconditional love knew no bounds at the moment of his crucifixion, and it knows no bounds right now as he sits at the right hand of the throne of God interceding on our behalf. His emotions—his love, his excitement, and yes, even his hatred of sin and injustice—are all governed by his perfect righteousness. He has given us the very same emotions so we can know who God is, what stirs his heart and what displeases him, and so we can share in his love and triumphs and the joy that comes from walking in forgiveness and freedom.

When we burn with the wrong kind of fire, we surrender to a different king. We allow the things of the world and its prince to consume us. We embrace unforgiveness and vengeance. And we ignore righteousness. In the process, we provoke God to anger, for He will not let our rebellion go unchallenged. Nor will he allow us to be consumed by such unholy obsessions. Which is why the writer of Hebrews warns us that “it is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” since “we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay…" The Apostle Paul put it this way:

At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.
Titus 3:3-5

Jesus is the light of the world. By his transforming power he calls us to let our light shine in the darkness and by his spirit we burn brightly with God’s love, redemption and forgiveness. While the world embraces the wrong kind of fire, we are called to choose the Consuming Fire.

One way or the other, we are going to be consumed.

This is war, and there is no neutral ground. If you're not on my side, you're the enemy; if you're not helping, you're making things worse.

Matthew 12:30 (The Message)

On this issue, there are no shades of gray. We are either with Jesus or against him. Whether overturning tables in the temple, speaking to the woman at the well or warning that “anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me” cannot be his disciple, the choice is always the same. Joshua put it this way: "Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve..."

We tend to forget how significant this choice is. And we can barely comprehend all the life-changing ramifications of choosing Christ. But Jesus knows every one of them, including this one: He knows that not everyone will embrace the choice you’ve made. In fact, many will hate it. And they will hate you for making it. Because for those who are perishing, for those who reject Christ, we are the scent of death. Even if you don't say a word about whom you have chosen, some will be repulsed by you. Somehow, they will know, and they will leave you wondering why they don't like you.

Peter explained it this way: “you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do — living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They think it strange that you do not plunge with them into the same flood of dissipation, and they heap abuse on you.” To your friends, your coworkers, even to members of your own family, you are no longer the same. Now, by the choice you've made, something about your life makes them uncomfortable. It's this: You have become the very presence of God in their lives—a living epistle—and the Holy Spirit in you brings conviction like a two edged sword, piercing their hearts and exposing the choices they have made.

We may think you we can work out our differences with those who continue to follow the ways of the world. That maybe, by compromising with them on some things, by keeping our faith to ourselves, by biting our tongue when we ought to speak out, our relationships won't change and our old friends won’t be offended. It would seem, however, that no such compromise is possible. Jesus so much as told us so with this parable:

Suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.

We are in a battle to the death. Everything is at stake. And it is the Prince of Peace who will have his way and who is dictating the terms of engagement. We are called to be holy as Christ is holy. We are called to be pure. And we are called to follow Christ wherever he leads, to surrender only to Him. Compromise with God's enemies—even with those who don't realize they oppose Him—compromises us. Jesus demands everything. Compromise means Jesus gets something less than everything, while the enemy gets something in us, something to leverage and use to separate us from God's loving embrace. Satan comes to steal, kill and destroy our relationship with Christ. Jesus comes that we may have eternal life by being crucified with him.

Such is the cosmic battle for our hearts and souls, a paradox with eternal consequences: Our enemy wants us dead. So too does Jesus, only he wants us to willingly pick up our cross and lay down our old lives that we might find new life in Him. That is what it means to be on the side of Jesus, to be for Him.

Let the world think it strange that we no longer plunge into the same old flood of dissipation, let the abuse come and let us celebrate that we have been changed into His likeness enough to offend anyone!

Paul says we are the aroma of Christ to those who are being saved and the scent of death to those who are perishing.

Either way, we carry a fragrant offering to those around us.

If they don't know that it's Christ in us, the hope of glory, we owe it to them to say so.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.

Romans 8:22-24

How can it be that “the whole of creation” which God spoke into existence and certified as "good,” groans—right up to the present time—as in the pains of childbirth? How can God’s perfect creation be so distressed? And what of us? Paul says we "who have the first fruits of the Spirit” are groaning inwardly right along with creation.

In truth, all of creation has been groaning for the Kingdom to come almost from the very beginning.

Adam and Eve were not exactly like us. At least not at first. For they were created innocent, neither of them having been birthed in sin as we were. But like us, both were given free will. They were also given the perfect opportunity to thrive in the most perfect place on earth—Eden—the place where God walked in the Garden with them, blessed them in every way and held forth the perfect plan for their lives. There was just one warning for the man (and through him for the woman): whatever you do, “you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” That was God's only law. But like any law, it placed a limit on what they could do. And like anyone with a free will, they could choose to obey or disobey it.

By the fourth chapter of Genesis, the fall of man was complete. Paradise was lost and sin and death entered the world. Mankind was now so far from innocent that his every inclination was to do evil all the time.

In his fallen state, man cannot get out of his own way. Sinful man still has free will, but there have been some drastic changes. Before the fall, he shared the Garden of Eden with the holy and righteous God of the Universe. Since the fall, he shares the earth with, “the god of this world,” Satan, who in his rebellion "was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him."

Is it any wonder the world groans? Is it any wonder we groan? We live in a world contaminated by sin, populated by fallen men and fallen angels where evil flourishes and truth is nowhere to be found. As a result, the world disappoints. Our families and friends disappoint. And even the church can disappoint. Because none are without sin, and no one is immune from the pain of sin or its grip on their life. The Apostle Paul described it this way: “I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” Like Paul, we all can say “When I want to do good, evil is right there with me.”

But Paul also recognized he was no longer captive to sin, “because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” We still struggle, but Jesus has made a way through the Holy Spirit. We still battle sin, but defeat is not inevitable. We may “groan inwardly” when we glimpse the Kingdom of Heaven and see just how fallen our world really is, but “despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.”

Here in the world, where the fallen live among the fallen, we are nevertheless called to work out our salvation with fear and trembling and to be a light in the darkness. We are the redeemed with feet of clay, new creations in the same old body, living in the same fallen neighborhood, battling many of the same old demons. If only believing in Christ and receiving his Holy Spirit would have changed us forever, our struggles with sin and temptation would have come to an abrupt and definitive end. If only. We are profoundly changed, but our fleshly nature refuses to submit or renounce its claim on our desires.

God could have permanently transformed us in all ways at the moment of our rebirth, but he did not. Because had he done so, had he changed our nature in that fundamental way, he would have taken something so important from us that our transformation and our love for God would have lost all meaning by the next day.

Free will.

We have become children of God and are now heirs of the King and friends of Jesus. But we must still make choices when we are tempted; when our faith wanes; when we are wounded, rebellious or just plain tired of persevering. Which is why scripture says "choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve." That's not quite as easy as it sounds.

Jesus said, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of Heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it.” Jesus uses the language of war because a battle for our souls rages all around us all the time, only “the weapons of our warfare are not the weapons of the world.” Our battle is in the heavenly realms and in our minds, where the choices we make affect not only our own walk with God, but the lives of those who look to us as "Christ's ambassadors." As believers, we see action every day. It is as if every voice we hear, every argument we entertain and every choice we make is the front line of the war. We may be prepared by God’s word, strengthened by his love, armed with His holy spirit and equipped with the mind of Christ, but at the moment of decision it is our free will that determines what actions we take and whose side we choose.

We are constantly confronting the same choice as the first couple. As we battle our flesh, as we battle temptation and false teaching and vanity and the need for recognition, and as we successfully force our will to bend to His will, the Kingdom of Heaven forcefully advances, and forceful, imperfect but saved men and women, struggling sinners all—people like us—lay hold of it.

The Kingdom of Heaven is within you. It is also near you, beckoning you home and holding forth the promise of God's ultimate redemption for his wondrous creation. Grasping this truth will energize you. It will lift your spirits and put hope in your heart for this troubled planet. There may be much that’s wrong in the world, but we’ve had a glimpse of the Kingdom to come and the unstoppable power of God's love to bring it to fruition. This fallen world we know is not the natural order our creator planned. Timothy Keller, in his book The Prodigal God, put it this way: "Jesus’s miracles were not so much violations of the natural order, but a restoration of the natural order. God did not create a world with blindness, leprosy, hunger, and death in it. Jesus’s miracles were signs that someday all these corruptions of this creation would be abolished.”

With every choice you make for God, every time you put others before yourself, pray for those around you, step out in faith and share your love for God with the broken hearted and the lost, you are serving as God's chosen vessel to restore the natural order in your corner of the Kingdom. And your obedience to God, even if it sometimes takes the full force of your will to obey Him, is a sign that the Kingdom of Heaven is still advancing, that love never fails and that the corruptions of this creation are much closer to being abolished than any of us can ever know!

Now that is worth groaning about.

He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me, scatters.

Luke 11:23

Keeping the faith is not always a stroll in the park. Even Jesus tells us that "the work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent." As believers we embrace God’s values. We try to view the world with Kingdom eyes. We accept that there are angels and demons, heaven and hell, and decisions to be made moment to moment that will either feed our flesh or fan the Spirit of God within. We are always confronted with what God has set before us: “life and death, blessings and curses.” God watches from his heavenly throne as we struggle and encourages us to “choose life” and press on.

Scripture says our walk with God is like a race. Paul tells us to “run in such a way as to get the prize.” The writer of Hebrews tells us to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” So the saints who went before us cheer us on in our walk with God. The angels in heaven join in that chorus of encouragement. And the Lord himself implores us to choose life at every turn in the race.

Yet despite all the holy encouragement, there are times when we are just plain tired of running the race, times of fatigue, exhaustion and frustration. It’s in those moments of weakness that other voices can suddenly be heard more clearly above the cherubic cheerleaders. And they are not the voices of encouragement. They are worldly voices. Hostile voices. Voices of people whose lives are set on a different path and who look to “cut in on you and [keep] you from obeying the truth.”

Let’s embrace Paul’s analogy and accept that we are running a race. Now picture a single runner in a marathon. Thousands of people have turned out for the race. They line the streets, shouting, yelling and attempting to attract the runner’s attention. Only in this race, it is not encouragement that reverberates from the sidelines, it’s discouragement and disdain. As if knowing the runner’s inner struggle, the crowd shouts such things as “Why are you bothering with all this? Who cares if you finish the race? What’s the point? You call that a prize? Don’t you have a mind of your own? You can’t really believe God cares what you’re doing!” These and even more demoralizing words come at us with every heavy step we take, from every message our senses receive, because we are running one way and the world is heading in the exact opposite direction.

Everyone chooses sides. At times it feels like everyone has chosen the other side and that we who embrace Jesus walk alone in a world gone mad—a world that passionately and irrationally hates Jesus and his followers. But take comfort. It’s been like this from the beginning. When Israel rejected the Lord, demanding a flesh and blood King like all the other nations, God’s prophet Samual took it very personally. It was the Lord who comforted him with these words: “it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king.” Jesus said almost the same thing to his followers: “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.”

Yet as we run the race, struggling but undeterred even as the crowed heaps scorn on our motivations and beliefs and is almost giddy when we stumble, some in the crowd will wonder. Some will look on with curiosity. When the Ephesian craftsmen (idol makers) thought their business was in danger because idol worship was condemned by Paul and his followers, they caused a near riot. Two of Paul’s traveling companions were seized. But it says this about the mob that had gathered: “The assembly was in confusion: Some were shouting one thing, some another. Most of the people did not even know why they were there.”

Most of the people watching us run the race don’t know why they are there either. But God does. Because it is from the ranks of the crowd, from among those who truly want to see us fail, that God calls forth his people, that God opens their eyes to see. And the unseeable God uses us to show those people the way. If we run the race that has been marked out for us, those who are called will follow.

As a disciple of Christ, we will never be able to please all the people all the time. “For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.” To those who hate God, we stink of death and are a reminder here on earth, right now, that all will be judged. When they look at us, they see the choice that they did not make. To those who are being saved, we smell of life and new beginnings. And we draw them after us simply by being faithful. That is what it is to gather with Jesus.

So keep running.

You never know who’s going to follow when they see you leading the way.

Therefore, when Christ came into the world, he said: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me; with burnt offerings and sin offerings you were not pleased.” Then I said, “Here I am—it is written about me in the scroll—I have come to do your will, O God.”

Hebrews 10:5-7

The crucifixion, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are the most profound events in the history of the world. The way back into intimacy with God was made through Jesus, our sins were paid for by the blood of Christ, and death—the curse for man’s rebellion in the Garden of Eden—was defeated. And in the heavenly battle for our hearts and souls, Jesus “disarmed the powers and authorities [and] made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.”

As a historical event, what Jesus did was without precedent. In our own lives, it is equally unprecedented. Because the true magnitude of what Jesus did can only be grasped when we personally receive him, his redemptive work on the cross and the salvation and eternal life he promised. It is when we are spiritually transformed—born again—that we finally get it. His triumph over the powers of darkness was a once-for-all-time victory confirmed by Jesus when he proclaimed,“It is finished.” But it is a triumph we share in only if we so choose. And it is a choice all mankind has had to make from the very beginning.

All that we are and will become depends on how we respond to God.

After Adam ate from the forbidden tree of knowledge, the Lord God called to him, “Where are you?” Adam answered, “I heard you in the Garden and I was afraid because I was naked.”

When a crowd had gathered around Jesus, a man said “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus told those assembled, “The Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He then said to one man, “Follow me.” Hearing this, he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Still another responded, “I will follow you Lord; but first let me go back and say good-bye to my family.” Jesus answered, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

Each man had been given the chance to follow the Lord and walk in his ways, and each had some reason not to.

God is not looking for excuses or explanations.

He is looking for ecclesia—the called out ones—the ones whose hearts shout, “Here I am!” and whose desire is to know God and be known by him. The ones he calls “friends.”

When God tested Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his son, he called him by name: “Abraham!” It didn’t matter what God wanted, Abraham did not hesitate when he answered, “Here I am.”

When God called “Moses, Moses” from the burning bush, in awe he responded, “Here I am.”

When the word of the Lord was rare, he called to the boy Samuel (who would later anoint first Saul then David King of Israel). The child boldly answered, “Here I am.”

And when Isaiah heard the voice of the God saying “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” He said, “Here am I. Send me!”

Those who went before us loved God. They were also just ordinary men. Yet God used them mightily. He is still looking for ordinary men and women who love him; who listen for his voice; who are repentant and humble in spirit; and who have faith that he can use them in spite of their limitations. A people filled with the Holy Spirit who want to see God glorified on the earth. A people who pray to be used mightily, even if only with their own family and friends.

A people like us.

When the Father looked to redeem mankind, it was Jesus who said “Here I am.”

In three days he changed the world.

With three words we can help change ours, but our heart’s cry must also be a resounding, “Here I am!”

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

Psalm 103:8-12

It is hard to wrap our minds around the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy. Because it's sometimes so hard to be like him. No matter how much we try, it seems that resentment and unforgiveness can dog us our whole lives. Whoever has wronged us, how ever long ago it happened, we seem built to remember. And even when we have gone through all the steps we know to do as believers, the wrong timing coupled with the wrong moment and the wrong thing said can bring on the wrong response. Some wounds just keep on giving and leave us confronting our own inability to completely forgive. The great irony is that even in the face of our own unforgiveness, we have an uncanny ability to forgive that sin in us. That part of being made in God’s image seems always to function on all cylinders!

But there is a cost to pay for our unforgiveness toward others. While we may forgive our inability to be free of the pain and judgment that comes with old offenses against us, too often we are just as unforgiving about old sins in our own lives.

While fasting in the desert, Jesus could not be distracted from his mission by the twisted words and promises of the enemy. But Satan quickly realized his timing was off and “left him until an opportune time.” That time came later in Jerusalem. The enemy is always waiting for an opportune time to take us down or make us ineffective. And the opportune time is inevitably when we are about to do something for the Lord, something for the lost, or something that advances the Kingdom of God. Until then, why would the enemy bother with us? But when he does, it’s no small matter, for “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”

What better way is there to attack us than to use our weaknesses against us. As we step out in boldness, our enemy seeks to destroy us. And it’s almost always the same technique: He reminds us how inadequate we are. What we’ve done. What only we know about our past. How we believe we have been forgiven, but how unforgiving we are to others. And that being the case, how we must not be forgiven either. And if that’s true, how unqualified we are to do anything on God’s behalf because we are no different than the pagans and enemies of God.

Half truths, misquotes and the opportune time. Attempting to devour us right when God is ready to move through us. Could there be a better time for Satan to move against us? And could there be an easier way to do it? To remind us of old sins we have forgotten and to make us believe they are unresolved, even though Jesus was “pierced for our transgressions.”

God has already forgiven the repentant believer. He has already covered us in the righteousness of Jesus. He has already declared our sins white as snow. He has already said “It is finished.” And he has proclaimed that our sins are removed “as far as the east is from the west.”

We can't get any more forgiven than that.

We are free, because who the son sets free is "free indeed." The sin that enslaved us and the guilt and condemnation are gone. That’s God’s promise through the ages. It is the whip he has given us to tame the devouring lion. Our response to the enemy reminding us of our sin must be acknowledgement. Yet in the same breath, it must also be “but God has set me free.” Then, in recognition of his mercy toward us, we must again forgive those who have hurt us. The enemy may prowl around like a roaring lion, but we serve the Lion of Judah, the King of Kings, the compassionate and gracious God who is abounding in love and forgiveness.

Forgive yourselves! God has. And put the matter to rest. “The past cannot be redeemed. What has been and what might have been both bring us to what is." (Odd Thomas, by Dean Koontz). You are here now. Your past cannot be redeemed. It’s over. But you have been redeemed. And you have been forgiven for whatever you’ve done in your past. And more than that, God will use your past to mold you into the vessel of his desire. So close the book on it and don’t let the enemy read you the story of your sin to sabotage the call on your life. Those transgressions are history, but your life in God is his story in you, and it is without sin.

You are qualified. You are forgiven. And you are without excuse. He has put the call of God in your heart. Do you really want to take issue with his judgment? He loves you. And he’s proud of you. Now accept that truth humbly as you step out boldly to fulfill what he has set before you.

Or would you rather forgo God’s assignment for your life and give the benefit of your doubts to the enemy of all that’s good, holy and righteous.

That is not God’s plan.

"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me." Revelation 3:20

In the second and third chapters of Revelation, the Lord speaks to the church. There are seven churches identified by seven cities. Five are rebuked for various shortcomings, from forsaking their first love and embracing false teachings to being lukewarm toward God. Two are encouraged for standing firm in the face of persecution and for doing the things that God has called them to do. One suspects that the church in America is pretty much as it’s described in Revelation: out of every seven churches, two have it right, five not so much. Now multiply that by thousands and the odds are good that we’ve all encountered a church that’s less than perfect, and not quite “holy and blameless.”

For all the church’s imperfection, however, the Lord’s correction is not the final word. At the end of the passage, God reminds us that “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.” (Rev. 3:19.) What immediately follows is the Lord’s invitation to change, to receive the way to get back on track: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” Although he’s speaking to his church, he’s waiting for anyone to respond.

Do you hear his knock? Through your circumstances? Through the opportunities to share with others he’s put in your path? By the pounding of your own heart when you think it’s him or when the word of God grips your spirit?

He’s not at the door with a warrant, ready to break it down. And he’s not here about salvation. In these verses from Revelation, he was speaking to those who were already saved. This is different than the first time you let him in.

You and God are standing at the threshold of radically changing your life, only you’re separated by a door which keeps him out. It’s your move. He’s waiting for you to open up and let him all the way in because he wants to be with you, live in you and enable you to walk in the power of Christ and to embrace the call on your life. It is within your grasp to open the door of your heart to understanding and real intimacy with the God. And he’s looking for anyone to let him in. Will you?

Listen carefully. What you hear is the sound of God knocking at the door of your heart again. You may have been ignoring him. You may have tuned him out. Or maybe you’re waiting for him to leave, believing you are unworthy or unprepared. We’re all unworthy and unprepared, but he already knows that and still he knocks.

It’s time to answer the door. More than that, it’s time to fling it wide open!

There’s almost nothing less demanding that God could ask of us.