In the movies it always looked so easy and nonconsequential. As a kid, I watched shows where chairs got busted over heads in barroom fights with the recipient merely staggering a few paces before flinging his opponent through a wooden railing. And then there were the scenes where a medium-built man with a single blow from his leg kicked a front door wide open. And he never walked with a limp afterwards or stopped to rub the jolted knee or hip joint. Power. It all seemed impressively real until the day I picked up a chair in anger to throw at my brother. Besides being too heavy (fortunately) to lift high enough to toss, I was instantly sobered up with the realization that if the chair did break apart on his head, it would likely kill him. I didn’t even have to experiment with kicking a door to realize that it would take someone with a lot more strength than me to pop a solid oak barrier off its hinges with one swing of the leg.
And yet there is someone with “door-busting” abilities that we should all take notice of.
Jesus began His earthly ministry kicking down obstacles that were raised against Him and His purposes. He ordered demonic interference to be silent and flee. He commanded stormy waters to be calm, unfruitful trees to wither, diseases to leave human bodies, and corpses to come back to life. Nobody had ever displayed such power over nature, physical ailments, spiritual darkness, and death. Nothing seemed to be able to stand in His way. He was truly the archetype man of the movies I pictured as a kid who could not be stopped, no matter what was thrown at Him, no matter the barrier in front of Him. Nothing resisted His will . . . except for one thing.
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I remember the first time I stole something. I was six or seven years old, and I walked out of a store with a candy bar in my pocket. When I didn’t get caught and nothing bad happened, I was surprised. As a child I then decided it wasn’t really wrong to take something from someone when you wanted it more than they did. A few years later, however, when my bike was stolen I changed my mind. There was something messed up about the world when people could actually steal from me.
I was on to something. Every philosophy and religion recognize there is something fundamentally wrong with the world. Most, however, disagree on what the fundamental problem is. What exactly is the root of human dysfunction? It’s all around us. Even a child can see there’s something wrong with the way things work.
The word “sin” carries varying definitions and innuendo depending on who uses it. To some, it might mean socially unacceptable behavior, while to others it could be nothing more than a mistake or a weakness. Still others see it as a silly or overly-restrictive, outdated concept that shouldn’t be taken seriously; after all, we have evolved beyond the need for such primitive explanations of the human situation. And then there are those who only see the wrong doing in others, never in themselves.
There is a growing group of people who choose to see sin as having nothing to do with morality but rather understand it to describe an ontological problem: physicality is what’s wrong with the world. If we could find a way to shed our corporeal entanglements and escape to a more pure spiritual state of being, then we would experience “salvation”. Sin or evil, in this way of thinking, is nothing more than being stuck in a material world.
But, how do these varying perspectives account for a world that so easily justifies stealing candy bars and bicycles and much, much worse?
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Music of the rock group Kansas takes me back to my high school days. I particularly remember the hauntingly beautiful harmonies of “Dust in the Wind.” The sound would echo in my head days after I listened to it on the radio. Who could resist humming or singing the mournful tune and wallow in a melancholic puddle of feelings. Supposedly, it was inspired by Native American poetry, an enchanting yet bleak reminder of where our modern materialism takes us. But how many who savored the bittersweet melody back in the 70’s ever really thought about the implications of what it was saying? “All we are is dust in the wind.” Was there a hopeful antidote? Something that could impart substance to our nothingness? Immortality? The song didn’t say, and I never took the time to think too deeply about it.
Why? Because I had my whole life in front of me. As a teenager, I pretty much behaved as if I would live this present life forever (of course, without much thought). No rush to get anything done, make any solid plans, or think about what happens at the end. I had plenty of time to work that all out at some point in the fuzzy future.
What Does the Bible Say?
Interestingly, the scriptures offer some parallel thoughts with the mournful crooning of Kansas. A single human life on this earth is short. Its significance cannot be measured in terms of time spent wandering the globe, the amount of material wealth collected, or the number of tasks performed. When considered in light of the thousands (millions?) of circuits the planet has completed around the sun, 80 years is nothing. While there are many passages that could be quoted, here are three:
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A good story almost always requires a villain. Everyone loves to detest and blame that guy who is despicable. And what is easier to despise than a creep motivated by pure greed?
In movies, a hero commonly struggles against a filthy rich tycoon or corporation seeking to add to their already-huge pile of money. The greed of the wealthy is a motif routinely used in Hollywood and politics because of its almost-universal capacity to stir up deep emotional responses—usually animosity. It’s a theme that has struck a chord in every generation. Afterall, it is so satisfying to see such evil motivations and actions exposed and justly punished!
But is greed a sin exclusive to the 1%?
It’s defined in one dictionary as “excessive desire for wealth or possessions.” Notice, it does not say it is the desire only of those who already have more than they need. “Excessive desire” can take root in the heart of any person. And that’s why it is counted as one of the Seven Deadly Sins.* Greed is an equal-opportunity vice which begets many other transgressions (such as cheating, lying, stealing, abusing others, avoiding paying debts, and even homicide) in those who let it dominate them—be they rich or poor.
Greed Among Jesus Followers
Jesus addressed the problem of greed (also called covetousness) among His disciples, even though they weren’t known as the wealthiest of society. In Luke 12:15 He said, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.” The driving desire for more possessions has long been a problem for Jesus followers. Regardless our economic status, the allure of finding comfort, security and status in stuff, easily keeps our affections focused on the short-term, temporary side of life. But God’s got bigger and more long-lasting things in mind for us.
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“I just want to feel good.” This is the mantra I’ve heard from many people over the years who are trying to figure out their existence. Confusion, discomfort, boredom. They’re looking for something that makes life feel better—worth living, that takes away the discomfort or at least distracts from it.
Yes, I can somewhat relate. I put food into my body that isn’t healthy—even when I’m not hungry. I watch stupid movies or series that I forget (or wish I could) as soon as they’re over. I randomly scroll through the internet looking for articles or sites that merely pique my curiosity but have no real substance. I hungrily check my social media posts to see how many “likes” they got. I thirst for affirming interaction with those who will agree with my thoughts and views. And I yearn to discover a trendy cause that I can get passionate about. I even take ibuprofen more often than I should.
Why?
I too want to feel alive, happy, active, filled, pain-free, and stimulated. That’s what the voices around me say is the essence of life, afterall.
What is it, really?
There’s this word we don’t use much anymore. Gluttony. It’s another one of the traditional Seven Deadly Sins.* I have simply understood it to mean overeating—which at times has confused me as to why stuffing my body with food is listed as one of the Big Seven. Overeating may contribute to obesity and heart disease, but calling it a cardinal sin with deep spiritual ramifications? That doesn’t make much sense to me.
Yet like all sin, there’s usually more to it than what my cultural environment has allowed me to absorb.
A definition for gluttony that probes beyond merely “eating and drinking excessively” could be “an unrestrained pursuit of pleasurable sensations.” Or, “good feelings as my guide and reason for living.”
Another way of thinking about it is to ask myself what are the sensations I’m trying to avoid? Hunger? Thirst? An unstimulated body, mind or imagination? The feeling that there’s no meaning in what I’m doing or in my life at all for that matter. All these create an uncomfortable emptiness. Gluttony pushes me to overindulge, in almost anything, in pursuit of that elusive state of “feeling good”—filling myself with other feelings in order to overwhelm those I don’t like.
So, what is your preferred pill for the aches and hollowness of your body and soul?
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My stomach muscles tightened as I sat in the YWAM class and admitted to myself that I hated those kids. Before we joined Youth With A Mission (YWAM), I had taught English to middle schoolers at a California inner-city school. My first three years were plagued by 13-and-14-year-old monsters determined to make them my last. Carefully crafted lesson plans were daily sabotaged with rudeness, crudeness, and immature antics that targeted my insecurities. I didn’t know how to handle it, and the anger and stress within reached new heights. So, when the YWAM teacher asked who I had not yet forgiven, guess who popped into my mind? Ugh! Do I really need to forgive them? It’s in the past. I’m a nice guy. I don’t hate anybody. . . Do I?
What Is It Exactly?
Even “nice” people hold on to offenses and keep them for a lifetime. Acts of betrayal, abuse, violence all the way down to disappointments and unmet expectations feel as if they’re wrapped in Velcro. Actually, it’s not that they stick to us but that we grip them so tightly. It’s as if we think we can strangle the hurt if we just hold on long enough. Bad news: IT DOESN’T WORK! The longer I cling to any level of offense, the more it becomes a part of me, even seeping into my identity as it plants its poison. And the long-term results are not pretty.
To forgive, simply put, is to let go. I don’t release my offense against others necessarily for their benefit. It’s so I can be free. For me to be able to hear God clearly (read Choosing to Hear God on His Terms), love others and experience God’s forgiveness for all the stuff I’ve done, I must choose to let go!
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As far back as I can remember, I have largely interpreted life, my value, and my impressions of those around me through the words I hear. What I have taken in through my ears has lodged deep into my soul. Countless words have cut like a knife, leaving me struggling for air, while many others have wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a wintry day, imparting strength to keep going. And still others, for better or worse, have quietly shaped my perceptions and understanding of the world. Some carry the breath of life. Others work to strangle or crush it. They’re more than just physical sound waves pounding on my eardrums. They carry something invisible and other-worldly with a potency that can rearrange a person’s insides for good or for bad.
Words matter.
Their force, I believe, is rooted in their origin. The Bible tells us that the Almighty Creator brought into physical existence that which was in His mind by speaking. “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light” (Genesis 1:3). In that same chapter, we’re also told that God created man and woman in His image (Genesis 1:26-27). While bearing His image holds many theological implications, one of them, it seems, is that we possess abilities patterned, to a lesser degree, after our Creator. Humans can take something they have imagined in their minds and bring it into existence through creative labor. Every invention (like the lightbulb), every work of craftsmanship (like a mahogany table), and every organizational system (like government agencies) started at one time as an idea in someone’s head. Like the One who made us, we all are creators at some level . . . for good or for bad.
What are we calling into being?
Words are the most basic creative element we possess. They start as ideas in our heads, or even in our spirits, and as we choose to speak or write them, they can transform into forces that impact everyone around us. I was taught a phrase when I was young that I now believe to be completely untrue: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.” It would be nice if words with ill intent would just bounce off like rain on an umbrella. But typically, they don’t. There have been moments in my life when I would have much rather endured a physical injury than bear the cutting trauma of being ridiculed, accused, discounted, or belittled by what someone said. The pain a person’s tongue inflicts can leave a soul battered and feeling as if it’s dying.
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The Sahara can be a lonely and disheartening place. I’ve been to this seemingly endless North African sandbox several times. Its beauty, overshadowed by the harshness and potential for disaster, was often not seen till after I returned home and reviewed my photos. On one trip, I hunkered down in a house with my team, riding out a sandstorm in which the air remained a foggy dark brown with little visibility for almost three weeks. During another, I nearly froze under the stars in my sleeping bag in the sand, anxious about getting trampled by a group of nearby camels. But the most disheartening experience was running out of gas along a barren stretch of road, miles from any village. We never saw another car. Our vehicle had a second fuel reservoir, but the mechanism used to switch the intake between the two tanks wasn’t working. In the end, I had to suck on a siphoning tube to manually move gasoline from the full one to the empty one. What a relief when the car finally started again.
And yet occasionally I have had the eyes to see some profoundly beautiful things in this grim and desolate place. Green spots can suddenly appear while driving through the sea of brown rock and sand. An oasis is an exquisite sight in the desert. Jesus followers who somehow persevere in the midst of threats and persecution can unexpectedly show up at your door. What a humbling experience to interact with a believer who truly understands the cost of following our Lord. And, in my mind, the symbol that best represents hope in this seemingly lifeless and uninhabitable land is the date palm. It thrives in desolately arid regions and produces some of the sweetest fruit I’ve ever tasted. We gorged ourselves on this desert candy while camping beside a cool pool of water in an oasis. It was a very exotic experience.
Life in the Wilderness
Sometimes, followers of Jesus feel as if we have been led into a desert with no oasis in sight. It’s difficult to imagine beauty or opportunities for nourishment in harsh, dry and dusty places. The goal is usually just to find a way to get through as quickly and as painlessly as possible. And yet many followers of Jesus talk of the “dry seasons” of their faith. They wonder where God has gone, what’s up with not being able to hear His voice like they could in the past, and why serving Him feels so much harder than it use to. Desert experiences are not fun. What kind of good can they possibly provide?
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A college philosophy class many years ago pushed me to think about what the word “good” means. I used the word all the time. In fact, everyone around me used it continuously to describe things they liked or approved of. But what did we mean by it? And, did the way we use it do the word justice? Other than coming up with other words or phrases that described what we meant such as “nice,” “high quality,” “moral,” “virtuous,” “acceptable behavior,” I don’t remember arriving at a satisfying definition. And the professor didn’t really help much. His smile gave the impression that he never intended us to find closure on the topic. Frustrating. But, it was just a class assignment and one of many hoops to jump through to get my degree. In the end, I took a “B” and forgot about it, like most all my general-ed classes.
Years later, as I pondered the biblical passage that lists the Fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23), the old question came back. What is goodness? We’re told that it is evidence that the Holy Spirit is dwelling within. So, how do I determine if it’s there, or not? Is our human understanding of goodness the same as God’s? And if not, what makes something or someone good in His eyes?
I still don’t feel qualified to answer that question. The older I get, I see that I know less than I thought I did back in my college days. All I can do is share some of the thoughts I have accrued over the years. But even though I’m hesitant to provide a definitive explanation of “goodness”, I know with certainty that I desire the Spirit of God to make a home in me. So, I want to at least get a little closer to recognizing what such an indwelling might look like. Can the Holy Spirit make me truly good?
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I am known in my family as the one who doesn’t enjoy games, particularly the ones that involve boards, cards, or video controllers. Few of them have ever really held my interest. My mind typically wanders and I end up not getting the concept. Ultimately I don’t do well (translated: I lose). It’s rarely fun, and so I usually make excuses for not playing (like, needing to read a book, or something).
Another reason for not liking them is that I’ve had the rules of games changed on me, right in the middle of playing. I remember my brother doing this more than once when we were kids. He was the gamer who would teach me something new, and then right as I thought I had it figured out and was close to winning, he would inform me of a rule he had failed to mention before. It usually benefited him, of course. For a guy who struggled to comprehend how to play in the first place, this was beyond frustrating, even infuriating. I remember throwing my cards at him at least once, yelling not-very-nice things possibly a couple times, and maybe even knocking the whole board onto the floor. Who, after all, has the right to change the rules?!
The Great Reset
Well, God does. As the Creator of all existence and the Great Engineer of everything that is, He intimately knows this “game” we call life. And He did change the rules on that first Easter morning. Satan, the enemy of all humanity, had been playing his version for a long time, counting on the permanence of death and decay always being the end. There was nothing for humans beyond that dark veil. When a person died, all sense of purpose, delight, and relationship was over. And the forces of evil always held that ultimate card, ready to flaunt it in our faces anytime humans tried to create their own hope.
But then Jesus came along. He stretched the rules of human limitations His entire earthly life by healing blind eyes, cleansing diseased skin, calling breath back into lungs that had stopped functioning, and giving hope that there was even more to come. This Son of Man was getting out of control, so the enemy of humanity finally played his trump card. He killed the One who was showing humans a new way to live. And according to the old rule book, that should have been the end.
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