...So why does Jesus love me?
Well, Sara's recent posts about "The Basics" have got me thinking. There's an assumption I've noticed that runs rampant in the church, and it kind of confuses me. It seems to fly in the face of scripture, yet it's a very common attitude. It goes like this:
"I am a really horrible person. I mess up a lot, and I think bad thoughts. I'm a wretched scum of a sinner, and my heart is desperately wicked. It sure is nice of God to love me anyway."
I disagree.
Let me just make one thing clear upfront: I am not in any way trying to make the case that I'm somehow sinless. I just think the way in which we look at ourselves needs to be adjusted.
The bible is pretty clear about certain things. Sin is one of them. It's like a disease, and everyone is infected. Everyone. Some seem to have it worse than others; some seem to only have a touch of it--but the kicker is that it only takes one tiny germ to infect you, and the diagnosis is death.
Fortunately, there's a cure. Not a vaccine to ward it off, but an injection that will wipe the disease out of your body. Sounds great, right? So a couple thousand years ago, this guy Jesus walks around offering this cure to people. People that knew they were really sick and knocking on death's door came to him, and he gave them the cure for free. But there were other people who didn't like that. They'd been exercising and eating extremely well for years to keep the illness at bay--and telling other people that was the best way to live-- and here Jesus was giving the really sick ones a free cure!
So, now here we are, all these years later, acting mostly like the second group of people. We take our vitamins, we exercise, we eat a lot of salad.* Because we don't want to get sick. We know we are sick, and that we will die, but we like to pretend to everyone else that we are fine, just fine. Yet, when we talk about it with each other, the first thing we do is talk about how ill we are! "Boy, I sure am sick," we say to each other. "I am on death's doorstep! Thank goodness there's a cure that will keep me from totally kicking the bucket."
Seriously, this is how we talk about sin and ourselves. We have a cure. We want to look healthy, but perversely, we also don't want anyone to think we're TOO healthy. Am I exaggerating this? We have this duality about grace. On one hand, we try to live very good lives. We keep our checklists. But the minute we mess up, we moan about how fallen and sinful we are. Talk about extremes!
Imagine coming face-to-face with Jesus after receiving his cure and lamenting to him how sick we still are. "But, I healed you," he would remind us.
"I know," we would moan, "but I'm still sick!"
"That's not who you really are," Jesus says. "I'm making you well. It make take some time for the medicine to come into full effect, but you ARE cured. You're not sick. You're well."
We are WELL. We spend a lot of time focusing on our flaws and failures, and that's not what Christ sees in us. Sometimes scripture talks about our transformation in the past tense; other times, in an ongoing sense. The point is, to God, we are changed. So why don't we see ourselves that way??
Once upon a time, God made man and woman in his image. He bestowed on them great glory and responsibility. That glory was diminished through the fall, but it was not destroyed. For God never gave up on us, but pursued humanity throughout the ages. Why? Because we were worthless?
Proponents of the Pro-Life movement like to use Psalm 139 to remind us that God formed us in the womb. If that's true, then why don't we act like it? Why don't we apply that same logic to ourselves, and remember that he lovingly knit us together, just the way we are? He designed us for a purpose, each of us. Yet the common refrain amongst Christians is how utterly wretched we are.
Yes, it's important to be aware of our sin. Like David in the psalms, let us cry out to God to search our hearts and root out the bad. But let us also end as he does, focusing on God and his redemption of us. Let us say with Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." (Gal. 2:20) Let's not focus on how bad we are anymore. That's not the truest thing about us anymore--our redemption is.
This isn't being proud, it's being humble--because we know that we didn't bring about our own healing. It wasn't by eating well and taking vitamins that we got ourselves better. It was the heavenly cure, given freely to us. Not grudgingly, in spite of our sickness, but because He loves us and wants us to be healthy.
God loves us! He has healed us! Grace is a joyful thing! It is the good news that we carry into the world. There is a cure for this disease, and it's living in us. It's making us whole and well. Sometimes we will have a coughing spell or lapse into a fever. But we're not the diseased ones anymore. We're well, and it's time we started living like it.
*This analogy does not mean I have anything against eating well, taking vitamins, or exercising. In fact, they are valid ways of taking care of the body we've been given. It was just a handy illustration.
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4 comments:
I see your point. I think there should be a balance between vulnerability and feigned modesty. With vulnerability, you open your heart to someone else to let them know that you struggle with the same things. It's what draws us together and makes us stronger as the body of Christ (see my latest chapter of UHoaD!) It also fosters accountability, for when two people can share one another's burdens, then they are less likely to fall into a particular sin, b/c you know that person will be asking you how you've been.
On the other hand, feigned modesty is what I believe you are talking about in this post. It's sort of a verbal asceticism, so to speak. It's like that old high school mentality of doing anything to fit in with the crowd.
There is another problem with focusing too much on sin. It's funny, but I have seen the problem in enough of other people's lives to know it to be the case. When one focuses on sin to the point that it's all they think about, whether that person is trying to overcome an addiction, or avoid a certain situation, the very focus on that sin causes them to fall! We need to shift our focus to our real identity, as you wrote about, as forgiven saints. The Bondage Breaker is a good resource for this idea. Ironically, when you take your focus off of the sin, and stop trying so hard to not commit it, you find that the sin gradually becomes less and less of an issue.
It's kind of like trying to lose weight, or break any bad habit. The less you drive yourself crazy over it, the easier it is to achieve the goal. It's another one of those ironies about life. Like Paul said, "what I don't want to do, that is what I do."
Our focus should be on Jesus, on grace, on truth, and on others. That's when healing from the disease of sin can really begin to take place.
Oh yeah, (snicker) death is actually the prognosis of sin, not the diagnosis. Heehee! I just had to say that! I know I'm ornery!
Sara, I absolutely believe that we should be open, honest, and accountable. We are called to be part of a body & a community, and to truly live in one, we have to be open with our struggles. I've been adamant about this at least since out Watch group.
But you're right, that isn't what I was talking about. I'm talking about the "woe is me" type of attitude which does, as you said, puts the focus on the wrong thing. It's about a fundamental way of viewing ourselves and others: as sick, or well? I think we do a disservice to our Healer when we make "health management" our goal.
When I share my struggles, past and present, with others, it is a gentle vulnerability. It shows grace--because whatever it is I struggle with, I am still healed and on my way to total wellness, and anyone else who struggles with that can be, too. And it is honesty, because I cannot pretend and hide the vestiges of my illness--not if I want to be genuine with those around me.
I don't know about you, but I'm finding more & more that I just don't want to pretend as much. I've had enough of fakeness in my life.
(Oh, and I'm going to be nitpicky for a second: If you mean it should be "prognosis" because you're referring to your previously stated belief that death is not a bad thing, then I agree. Sort of. But death is not the way it was intended to be, and was introduced because of sin, so I'm still going to go with "diagnosis." Prognosis is when there's a chance of recovery. Death isn't recovery; eternal life after it is.)
Then I stand corrected. I thought "prognosis" just meant the outcome of an illness, and the diagnosis was just the illness itself. So I had no ulterior motives in that statement! LOL!
:)
Well, I had to look it up, because I wasn't sure. Yes, I still use the dictionary. I have to look words up all the time.
Had you been right, I would have gladly changed it. I'm not above correction by any means. :)
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