Monday's follow-up to Sunday's message: It's not your fault

It’s not your fault.

You hear that all the time.  Sometimes it’s a legitimate circumstance.  Sometimes it seems like someone’s making an excuse for their bad choices.  And whether it’s said in a good way or bad, it’s almost always overused.  We can get calloused to the “it’s not your fault” claim, because we know there are simply lots of things that are our fault.

But what about your friends who don’t know Christ?  You’ve told them about Christ, about His forgiveness.  You’ve offered Godly advice to them for their life’s struggles.  You’ve even comforted them from God’s Word when they needed.  And while it seems like they’ve come close to faith so many times, they still have not made that final step. 

Is that your fault?

For some reason, God places limits on what His limitless Word can do.  It’s true that the Word has converted the hardest of hearts.  It has made alive the most spiritually dead of sinners.  We know that because that’s what it’s done for us. 

But at the same time, the enormous, life-giving power of God’s Word cannot revive the cold hearts of those who will not heed its warnings nor take comfort from its promises.  God would rather go the trouble of adopting children than forcibly converting robots. 

That’s why your friend won’t believe; because God won’t force them to.  He will call, He will gather, He will enlighten.  Through His Word, He will continue to daily extend His gracious offer of life and salvation, always willing to forgive the deepest sins and the greatest heresies of those who hear His Word and believe.  But he will not force belief upon them.

So you, Christian, continue to offer God’s Word.  Life it out in your life for your friend to see.  Drop Jesus’ name into your conversations.  Give advice based upon God’s Word and let them know that’s where it came from.  Don’t blame yourself and grow weary even if they don’t believe:  You are giving them God’s Word.  Offering them His promises.  Offering them His life.  

Monday's follow-up to Sunday's message: You can't take it with you, but you can sure send it on ahead!

I mentioned something almost in passing during yesterday’s message.  Today I want to focus on it.

Our money should tell a story.

It should.  It should say something.  Our money should be used to proclaim that we do still trust in God, that His Son is our redeemer, that money is something we spend, but eternity is something we invest in. 

There are ways to use money to benefit this earthly life.  Some of those are good, some are appropriate.  After all, one of the ways God provides for you is by giving you money to purchase the things you and your family need.  You can’t fill your family’s bellies by looking at a pile of $1 bills, but you can if you spend them.   God gives you money to spend, not hoard.  Frankly, it is a sin to sit on stacks of money while your family goes without food, shelther, or clothing, but spending it wisely proclaims that you trust God as a gracious giver.

So yes, it is true that money is to be used for this earthly life.  But is that the only life it is good for?  Certainly not!  No, there’s no way you can take money with you into eternity, but you can certainly send it on ahead!

Jesus counsels us to use money in a way that builds an eternal dwelling.  He says that we can make an investment in eternity.  Eternity for ourselves.  Eternity for others.  How can we do that?  By investing it into the proclamation of His Gospel.

A bit of money towards missions, and a missionary buys 50 Bibles for his students.  A bit of money towards a seminary student, and he goes on to be a Gospel-preaching pastor.  A bit of money on a roof and the church building stands for four more generations as a place where Christ’s Gospel is proclaimed weekly.  A bit of money, and people hear how Jesus Christ died for them, how He rose again to conquer death, how He lives today to intercede for them.

Just the way He did for you.  You heard, you believed, and now you trust God to do as He promised: to forgive you through Christ’s shed blood, to raise you to new life.  To bring you to your eternal home.

Money spent as an investment in eternity.  That’s money that tells a story: The story of Christ’s redemption for all who would hear and believe.  

(Wednesday's) Monday's follow-up to Sunday's message: Repentance, not holiness, keeps you close to God

Repentance, not holiness, is what keeps you close to God.

There’s an old story about a man and woman who were “celebrating” their anniversary.  They dressed for dinner without talking.  They drove to the restaurant with only talk radio breaking the silence.  They ordered and ate a delicious meal, but their hearts were neither nourished by a meaningful glance nor fed by retelling the stories of their life together.

As they drove home, he staring firmly ahead and she looking with longing out the passenger window, she spoke the first words of the evening.  “What happened to us?  We used to be so close, but now I feel we’re so far apart.  When did we move so far away from each other?”

And the husband replied, “ . . . I never moved.”

If you feel far from God, it’s you that’s moved.

God is always faithful.  His love is always graceful.  His disposition towards you is always merciful.  He has not now nor ever has moved away from you.

But perhaps you’ve moved away from Him.

How will you get back?  Will you make the long journey back to God by manufacturing some emotion in your long-cold heart?  Will you find your way back to Him by doubling—no, tripling!—your efforts to be holy?

Or today, when you hear His voice, will you simply let your heart be softened, turn to Him in repentance, and instantly be ushered into His presence, surrounded by the shouts of joy and celebration of all of Heaven at the lost sheep that is now found, the wayward child who has come home?

Repentance, and not holiness, is what keeps you close to God.  The cross of Christ bids you come and die in repentance so that you may live in His righteousness.  The entire life of the Christian is one of repentance.  Not just a penitent tear shed from time to time, not an emotional outpouring . . . just the simple act of living by clinging to His cross alone as your hope for peace and forgiveness.

“You are proved right when You speak and justified when You judge.  Against You, You only have I sinned and done what is evil in Your sight.  Have mercy on me, a sinner, and restore to me the joy of my salvation.”

Be close to God once more.  Live as a Christian today.  Live a life of repentance.

Monday's follow-up (on Tuesday) to Sunday's message: From “painful” to “paid in full”

Have you ever read about scientific experiments that test disassociation by pain?  The basic gist of it is this:  Take a rat and put it in a box with some cheese.  The rat naturally goes for the cheese, anticipating an enjoyable meal.  Its mind is wired to think of cheese as being a good thing.

Now change it up a bit.  Whenever the rat approaches the cheese, right as it touches it, give the rat a healthy electric shock.  Confused at first, it will back off and then try again.  Another painful shock.  And another.  And another.  Until the rat cowers in a corner, afraid and hurt even by the thought of the thing it once loved.  The rat is now convinced that the cheese is no longer a good thing, but a source of pain.

I’m a rat sometimes.  And, I suppose, so are you.  Our “cheese”, though, are people we know and love: people whose company we used to enjoy.  But a series of painful events has conditioned us to avoid those people.  The pain is too great.  The wounds they caused us too fresh, too deep.  The emotional scars still too fresh on our hearts.  The very thought of meeting them again is painful.

But see, there’s the thing: We think of those people as being painful.  Their sin against us (or even our sin against them) has cut deep, so deep that we are divided from them.  Onesimus is divided from Philemon, Philemon from Onesimus . . . and both from Christ.

That painful, sinful action that they committed against you?  That’s a sin that Christ has paid in full.  The agony of heart that you’ve been carrying, cowering in the corner, afraid and hurt at the very thought of the very person you once loved . . . you don’t need to carry it any more.  You can let go of the bitterness, the anger, the pain, because Christ has paid for it all.  You can receive back your friend as a fellow worker in Christ, rejoicing over the depth of grace God has given.  Rejoicing over what God has done.

Or you can choose to live with pain.

“Painful”, or “paid in full”?  Which will you choose?

PT