My Deep Hope

As part of our ongoing adoption of Teaching for Transformation, our staff were asked to draft one Deep Hope for their classroom.  According to TfT, a Deep Hope represents “why you followed the call to be a teacher in a Christian school. It aligns with the desires that parents have as they enroll their children in your school. It reflects the promises contained within your school’s mission and vision statement and points toward your place in God’s story.  It is our North Star that guides us on our learning journey within our Christian schools.”  Included below are their (abbreviated) responses; I trust you will be as inspired by them as I was!

My Deep Hope for my students is that they…

• would see God as a deeply relational God.
• become lifelong learners of the Biblical story.
• would come to believe that the God of the universe loves them.
• stand in awe of how God has ordered His universe.
• leave CCHS knowing who they are and whose they are.
• see how science reflects a Creator.
• see the living God and their lives might better reflect His image.
• would discover the joy of living a fully surrendered life
• would know that nothing in this world compares to knowing Jesus.
• live their life in the presence of God, under His authority and to His glory.
• would include others to join them in living out God’s metanarrative.
• know God more deeply through my interactions with them.
• understand the gifts they have received as extensions of God’s grace.

AMEN AND AMEN!

Jesus Didn’t Mail It In (and neither should you)

I’ve been thinking a lot about Harper Lee lately.  Maybe it’s because I first read To Kill a Mockingbird in the springtime or (more likely) because I’ve recently started reading Rick Bragg’s Where I Come From.  But whatever the reason, the late author has been on my mind this week.  In Where I Come From, Bragg describes how, despite her mild-mannered persona, Lee’s influence over other authors looms large, particularly in the South.  He goes on to outline how Mockingbird has served as something of a moral compass to its readers over the years, particularly in the form of her protagonist Atticus Finch.  People make much of his integrity and empathy and for good reason…but it is his resiliency that has always stood out to me.  “Real courage,” Atticus states, “[is] when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.”  If there is a more inspiring quote in literature, I have yet to read it.

I was reminded of this sentiment while reading through the life of Christ as part of my daily devotions this week.  At the risk of comparing Jesus to a fictional character, they do share a commitment to a purpose greater than themselves, no matter what it may cost them in the meantime.  A brief survey of Christ’s interactions with His disciples in the chapters leading up to His crucifixion reveal that He was not unclear about what was in front of Him and that He went forth boldly anyway.  “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men; and they will kill Him, and He will be raised on the third day” ^{(Matthew 17:22-23)}.  Despite knowing exactly what He would face, Jesus didn’t walk around with a fatalistic outlook humming Que sera, sera.  He didn’t pursue His own agenda apart from God or make excuses to justify His disobedience, but instead He loved His own all the way to the end ^{(John 13:1)}.

What about us?  As we approach the end of another year, it can be easy to mail it in for the last few days, justifying our apathy by remembering how hard we worked all the other days of the year or that the students are equally checked out.  Or perhaps we feel so confident in how things will turn out that we are doing little more than just waiting out the final hours of the school year without exerting too much effort.  After all, summer is just a few days away, right?  This is where the Atticus quote and the life of Christ converge for me.  Real courage and real service aren’t measured by the results, but our faithfulness, even when we think we know the outcome.  No matter what tomorrow holds, commit yourself to doing good for others and bringing glory to God.  Even if your efforts are in vain, at least you’ll be in good company.

Vanity, Vanity, Vanity (amiright?)

My worst moments are all about me.  When left to myself, I default to doing things on my own terms and in my own strength.  It should come as no surprise, therefore, that Christ commands us to love others as we love ourselves, as He is well-aware of our inclination toward self-preservation.  Selfishness knows no bounds and when it goes unaddressed it sabotages everything it touches.

If we’re not careful, it becomes easy to reduce the ministry of Christian Education down to its most visible parts.  Grading becomes a necessary evil, students are obstacles to be overcome, and our calling becomes little more than “just a job.”  The truth is that this ministry exists for a far greater purpose than to simply satisfy my longing for comfort and personal affirmation.  My mortgage notwithstanding, this school does not exist to give me a job, pay my bills, or give me a nice place to come to work everyday.  Losing sight of this is easy and it is ultimately rooted in selfishness.

But when I consider the most influential figures in the New Testament, there is a notable trend of humility.  Whether it’s John the Baptist, Paul, or even Jesus Himself, the Bible is filled with individuals who willingly died to their own desires in order to serve a greater purpose.  Jared Wilson recently addressed this in a blog post entitled Success is Dangerous when he said:

There is something biblically beautiful, actually, about such littleness. It appears to be the primary mode of thinking of the apostles about themselves…So when we are made little, we can find ourselves in the heart of John the Baptist’s prayer, that Jesus would increase and we would decrease. It’s not the ideal place to be in terms of our dreams and ambitions, but relying totally on God’s sovereignty is right where God wants us.

This feels counter-intuitive to our innate sense of selfishness, but I think there is some practical wisdom here.  When God is big and I am small, suddenly the privilege of this ministry is far more evident and I join with the psalmist in declaring “Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name be the glory.”  As we begin to wrap up another school year, I hope you take some time to reflect on this truth.  Specifically, I want to challenge you to consider that ministering the truths of God to others is one of the greatest gifts we could ever have and to treat it as anything less is to do a disservice to our students.  Let’s continue to do the work and trust God with the results in these final days.

No Guarantees

He looked at me after I was done explaining everything I had done to avoid being in the position I was in and responded with a simple one-liner: “Control is a convenient fiction.” I laughed while expressing my agreement with him, but I was well aware of the subtle redirection intended by his comment. Like most people, I do everything in my power to avoid pain. It’s really amazing the lengths I will go to avoid experiencing something even remotely unpleasant. Once, I even defied my doctor’s request to look up when I had received my most recent tetanus shot in an attempt to avoid having to get a booster. (Spoiler: it had been more than 10 years, he knew, and I had to get the shot).

Embedded within these efforts is a desperate attempt to avoid pain by exerting some measure of control over my circumstances. There is perhaps no more sinister manifestation of this than our age-old adversary: Worry. If there is any question about how something might turn out, it provides an opportunity for us to worry. Worrying often occurs when I recognize the limits of my plans and efforts and in a vain attempt to guarantee a particular outcome, I fixate on what might happen. This proclivity to worry reveals something deeper about my desire to control things, a truth I was recently reminded of in a blog post appropriately titled All This Wasted Worry:

Sometimes the things we worry over are real and serious realities. Kids get sick. Friends die. Bodies break. Finances crumble. Careers slip away. Relationships end. Cars crash. Storms rage. We can’t ignore the difficult things that we face in this life, and we don’t have to pretend to be impervious to the hurts and dangers of life on a broken, fallen planet. And yet, we also don’t have to pretend that we’re somehow preventing all the imagined bad things from happening by lying awake hatching together a rescue plan. The Rescuer has already come. We can trust him with today and tonight because he has promised us an eternity of peace. We can trust him with forever. -Glenna Marshall

The truth is that God offers few guarantees for this life other than the ever-present sense that this world is not our home. But there is something strategic to being a stranger in a foreign land. As God’s ambassadors (2 Cor. 5:20), we have a special opportunity to live as representatives of His grace. This is especially true in ministry and especially, especially true when working with young people. I pray that you join me in embracing the opportunity to honor God by admitting our inability to guarantee anything in the lives of our students…and to faithfully get up and serve again the next day.

Sufficient (Redux)

There is no better antidote to the kind of bad attitude I referenced last week than reading Paul’s prison epistles.  Where else can you get prayers like the one in Colossians 1:11 where he urges us to live with patience, longsuffering, and joy…from prison!  After being appropriately humbled by that text over the weekend, I was reflecting on how Paul could even make such a statement.  I know how much I struggle to cherish Christ when faced with difficulties that pale in comparison and that is precisely what makes Paul’s incessant refrain of Christ’s sufficiency so necessary for me to hear.

Shortly after reflecting on this truth, I came across the following commentary from the MacArthur Study Bible that gloriously speaks to the realities of the sufficiency of our Savior.  I pray it impacts you as much as it did me:

One of the great tenets of Scripture, is the claim that Jesus Christ is completely sufficient for all matters of life and godliness! (2 Peter 1:3-4) He is sufficient for creation (Colossians 1:16-17), salvation (Hebrews 10:10-12), sanctification (Ephesians 5:26-27), and glorification (Romans 8:30).

So pure is He, that there is no blemish, stain, spot of sin, defilement, deception, corruption, error, or imperfection in Him! (1 Peter 1:18-20)  So complete is He, that there is no other God besides Him (Isaiah 45:5).

He is the only begotten Son (John 1:14, John 1:18); all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are in Him (Colossians 2:3); the fullness of the Godhead dwells bodily in Him (Colossians 2:9); He is heir of all things (Hebrews 1:2); He created all things—and all things were made by Him, through Him, and for Him (Colossians 1:16); He upholds all things by the word of His power (Colossians 1:17, Hebrews 1:3); He is the firstborn of all creation (Colossians 1:15); He is the exact representation of God (Hebrews 1:3).

The commentary goes on to outline more of what makes Christ uniquely qualified to intercede on our behalf, but suffice to say this was something of a body-blow to my ongoing attempt at self-preservation.  I sometimes wonder how much time, effort, and emotional energy I have wasted attempting to ensure a specific outcome when all the while I am able to trust, hope, and rest in God’s provision.  Strange as it may sound, I thank God that these efforts have been in vain and I continue to pray that He would go before each of us in the days and weeks ahead.

*For the original SUFFICIENT post, click here.

Good Gifts & Bad Attitudes

I’ll never forget the reaction I received when I told one of my friends that we were pregnant with our first child.  At the time, he had two kids of his own and when I shared our big news with him he almost immediately replied, “Oh wow, that little bundle of depravity will be so sanctifying for you.”  I laughed with him at the time, but it wasn’t long before I realized how true his words were.  Nine years and three kids later, I was again reminded of these words when my five year-old sincerely asked me last week if I actually liked our one year-old (#parentingfail).  Despite the sanctifying effects of the first three children, it would appear God is dealing with my sin in the same way He always has.

Later that night, I was reflecting on what prompted our daughter to ask that question and it dawned on me that I do complain about our youngest child…a lot.  To be fair, it’s usually in the form of a snarky comment about how good he is at whining, but the negative effects of my attitude are no less damaging than if I stated my displeasure outright.  I’ll admit that I am a bit embarrassed to share this, but I think it exposes something common about our attitudes toward God’s providence in our lives.  Children are a good gift from God, and yet too often all I can see is a crying baby who disrupts my plans and expectations.  Eventually, my grumbling and complaining begins to negatively shape my (and others’) perception of a thing that God calls good.

Have you ever noticed how often Paul doubles down on telling us to exercise gratitude: ”Rejoice always, again I say rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4) and “Rejoice always and in everything give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)?  Thanksgiving carries with it a built-in defense against the sea of complacency, entitlement, and bitterness that find ourselves in.  I confess that I am not immune to any of these attitudes and that the results are not pretty.  Maybe one of the reasons that Paul warns against grumbling and complaining is because it is a subtle denial of the good gifts that God has bestowed on us.  Not only is it an affront to God, but it taints my perception of His grace.

Our pastor is fond of saying “Anything beyond nothing is grace.”  I find this phrase helpful, particularly at this time of year when my patience is running thin.  One of the best ways to defend against ingratitude is to practice perspective when we are confronted with especially sanctifying circumstances.  Lucky for us, the final weeks of the school year should have no lack of these opportunities.

Not Forever

Creation, Fall, Redemption, Restoration. We’ve made much of the Biblical storyline over the past few years and for good reason, as it is the only way to make sense out of a fallen world without losing heart (and mind). This meta-narrative assures us that things won’t be like this forever, despite the chaos we find ourselves in today. It’s a theme that shows up often throughout God’s word and I want to focus on two specific instances that have stood out to me recently.

Psalm 2 is an amazing section of scripture. I tend to regard the psalms as poetic and beautiful and, as such, I often miss their intensely prophetic nature. The second psalm is one such example where we are reminded that God will restore His creation to its original glory and that this comes at the expense of those who have opposed Him along the way: “Why do the nations rage / and the peoples plot in vain? / The kings of the earth set themselves, / and the rulers take counsel together… / [But] He who sits in the heavens laughs.”

No matter how calculated the rebellion against God is, He will achieve His purposes.

Likewise, during Christ’s earthly ministry we read a series of parables outlining the restoration that comes in the form of God’s Kingdom on the earth. In Matthew 13 Christ describes how difficult it is to distinguish the weeds that have been sown among the wheat in this age. Rather than uprooting both at the same time (v. 29), Jesus indicates that God’s final judgment will come at the end of the age where he will deal with both groups accordingly (v. 40).

No matter how crafty the twisting of God’s truth may get, He will not tolerate it forever.

And how do we know that these things will come to pass? Because God has provided the ultimate down payment on these promises by raising Christ from the dead. Just as sure as Christ intercedes for you right now, so too we can count on God to restore all things in the end. In the meantime, we are called to run the race that has been set before us in faith. This can be especially difficult at this point in the year, as many of our best-laid plans have fallen apart. And yet, God’s Spirit is still working within us to carry out those good works He has prepared in advance for us (Ephesians 2:10). As we begin the final few weeks of the school year, take every opportunity to preach this truth to yourself. The good things are but a shadow of the glory to come and the hard things are a poignant reminder that it won’t stay like this forever.

Emergency Exits

Although I am not the kind of person who feels the need to identify the nearest Emergency Exit every time I walk into a room, it is my self-preservation tactic of choice when faced with trials.  Given the option between Fight or Flight, I will typically choose the latter.  If a quick exit is not readily available to me, then I might opt for simply existing under whichever challenge I am currently facing, but it is with searching eyes and gritted teeth.  This is typically accompanied by some self-pitying language about the importance of having a proper theology of suffering, but in reality I’d be two steps out the door already if I could be.

Ironically, one of my go-to verses in times of trouble is 1 Thessalonians 4:13 where Paul urges us not to grieve “as those who have no hope.”  No hope.  Those words haunt me.  As much as I’d like to think that I am sanctified enough to respond differently when faced with trials, the truth is that my reaction too often looks like the rest of the unbelieving world.  I share that not to be self-deprecating, but simply to point out how uncomfortable it is to be uncomfortable.  As much as I preach to myself the importance of fixing my eyes on things above, I remain hopelessly tied to this life.  At the risk of using unnecessary alliteration, there is an alternative to the Exit-Exist continuum and that is to Exalt Christ.  As trite as it may sound, there are few things that honor Christ better than living in such a way that treats Him as more valuable than anything the world has to offer (or threatens to take away).

If the last several posts have served as any indication, the third quarter was a refining season for us as a school.  I confess that my attitude rarely reflected someone who cherishes Christ above all else and for that I ask for your forgiveness.  Too often my mood will rise and fall with my circumstances as I run (not walk) to the nearest exit.  As painful as these seasons can be, they offer an equally powerful opportunity to practice a better perspective.  When I remember that God doesn’t promise a pain-free existence, but only that He will never leave or forsake me, I am confronted with the fact that this life is about more than me and my happiness.  Because waiting behind that emergency exit is another opportunity to cherish Christ, but I risk missing that if I only focus on my pathway from here to there.  Whatever thing you’re facing right now, be sure to remember it as uniquely designed by God for your good and His glory.

The Secret

Paul’s letters have always been some of my favorite passages of scripture.  I suspect that I have spent more time reading his words than any other author (inspired or secular).  Despite my familiarity with his theology, I was surprised when I recently read that Paul encourages us to imitate him seven times throughout the New Testament (see 1 Corinthians 4:16, 11:1, Galatians 4:12, Philippians 3:17, 1 Thessalonians 1:6, and 2 Thessalonians 3:7, 3:9).  Although it is important to note that in many of these instances, Paul is quick to add that he is following the example of Christ, the fact remains that the Apostle’s life is an example we are to follow.

When I survey both the life of Paul as well as the life of Christ, there are many similarities that stand out.  Perhaps most notable, however, is how neither regarded themselves as a victim of their circumstances.  Whether it was Christ’s words to Judas at the Last Supper– “What you do, do quickly”– or Paul’s recounting of his own trials in 2 Corinthians 11, they exclusively viewed their circumstances through the lens of God’s goodness and sovereignty.  As inspiring as Christ’s life is, I will often use the excuse that since He was God I can’t expect myself to live up to that standard (note: Paul says otherwise in Philippians 2).  But that excuse is not available to me when I survey Paul’s life.  I am especially humbled when I remember that four of his letters were written from prison where he says things like “Do not lose heart over my suffering for you” ^{(Ephesians 3:13)} and “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake” ^{(Colossians 1:24)} and, perhaps most famously, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” ^{(Philippians 4:13)}.

The truth is that I am typically unwilling to exercise this kind of perspective on my life.  This is part of what makes Paul’s sevenfold command to follow him so exposing, but thankfully he lets us in on the secret to walking in the grace that God has provided.  Paul makes it clear throughout all his epistles that the key to suffering well is to cherish Christ.  If you’re anything like me, then you know how easy it is to cherish literally anything other than Christ, as I am daily torn between my affection for God and my desire for the things of this world.  Paul’s words serve as an important reminder that the only thing that can legitimately satisfy and sustain me is found in Christ.  I pray that you remember that better than I do in the days ahead, particularly as Spring Break looms on the horizon.

“Am I doing enough for you, God?”

Our school recently participated in our semi-annual Outreach Day and I was reminded of the advice we often give to students before they go out to serve: It doesn’t always feel good to get help.  No matter how sincere the charity, there is something very human about resisting it (rooted, no doubt in our sense of self-determinism).  I experienced this recently while shopping at Harris Teeter.  When the clerk saw how many groceries I crammed into the shopping cart, he quickly offered to get someone to help me load them in the car (it should be noted that I was shopping for a family of six humans and two dogs).  Although I was quick to dismiss his offer, the truth was that it was no small effort to get all of those items into the car, even if I was determined to do it myself.

Sadly this posture of self-sufficiency is not limited to my earthly interactions.  I am quick to amen the gospel of grace when it comes to my salvation, and yet I am also all-too-familiar with how easy it is to add works to justify my standing before God.  I might dress it up and call it stewardship, but at the end of the day my attitude reflects a need for affirmation that I’ve done enough for God to warrant His affections toward me.  But when I read Paul’s letters, it couldn’t be more clear that God saves and sanctifies me despite my efforts…you know, something to the tune of being saved by grace and that not of myself so that I cannot boast ^{(Ephesians 2:8-9)}.

This is especially important for our students as they grapple with the weight of expectations.  Paul is equally clear that grace is not a license to sin ^{(Romans 6)}, but it is an invitation to receive the perfect righteousness of another and then trust that God will complete what He started in us ^{(Philippians 1:6)}.  The most important thing our students could ever learn is their helpless standing apart from the grace of God.  No measure of charitable acts or personal achievement will ever be enough to justify them before God and this truth remains even after they are saved by Him.  This is good news and a powerful reminder that we are dead to ourselves ^{(Galatians 2:20)} and the world ^{(Romans 12:1-2)}.  Receiving help doesn’t always feel good, but it is also an occasion to remember that we never graduate beyond our need for God’s grace however He chooses to dispense it in our lives.  It reminds me of the words once shared with me from an elderly saint who was nearing the end of her life:  Anything good found in me was the result of God’s grace in my life and everything else had been dealt with by my savior on the cross.  Amen.