Ashes, Tears, and Spilt Perfume

I have at certain times in my life sensed that I have done wrong. To deny this would be to deny the existence of any moral sensitivity inside myself. I sense this when I have let someone down by failing to meet a deadline or an expectation. I feel it when words spoken carelessly came back to haunt me. I sense it when I have done something in secret that would make me ashamed if anyone else knew. These feelings that make me aware that my conscience has been defiled have a special name: guilt. Sometimes guilt nags away at me until I can hardly stand to look myself in the mirror. But after a while, the nagging voice of guilt starts to fade and something much worse takes up residence in the heart. Apathy.

The disillusioned equate apathy with freedom. "I don't care what anyone else thinks! I will live my life as I wish! I am free!" is it's battle cry. Apathy doesn't listen to the nagging voice of guilt. That voice was put on silent ages ago. But apathy doesn't remain in the stage of passive indifference for very long. No longer needing to defend itself with it's battle cry, apathy does everything it can to make itself known. People who are indifferent to their consciences aren't afraid to bash someone behind their back (or even to their face). They aren't worried about their responsibilities or the expectations others have of them. They zealously defend every hateful word that escapes their lips. They express pride over the actions they once considered shameful. And while the apathetic person may be free from the nagging voice of guilt, he is really just a slave to his passions.

Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, a day with it's roots in early Christian tradition. The purpose of the day is to reflect on one's past sins and mourn over them. In Roman Catholic and some Protestant churches, ashes are placed on the forehead of those who wish to make an outward confession of their inward mourning heart. A friend recently brought to my attention that some people understand this to be an offense to the cross of Christ. After all, if we have put our trust in Jesus, our sins are completely dealt with. "Therefore there is now no more condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 8:1). But while this is entirely true, the Bible tells us that God esteems those who are contrite in spirit (Isa. 66:2). This assertion begs a few questions: "What does it mean to be contrite in spirit? Is it the same thing as feeling guilty? If so, why would God esteem our guilt?" Recently I've learned that guilt and contrition are not synonymous. Our guilt and apathy are not what God delights in. Instead, David cries out in his psalm of repentance, "the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart" (Psalm 51:17). So what does that look like in real life? The Word of God tells us a story of one woman who knew what it meant to come before her Lord with a broken and contrite heart.

In Luke 7:36-50 we read of a woman who, though she had lived a sinful life, approached the feet of Jesus in the company of many religious leaders. In sorrow over her sins the woman began to weep. So much did she weep that Jesus' feet were actually wet with her tears! Noticing this, the woman then began to dry His feet with her hair! Then she does something very strange. She begins to kiss the feet of Jesus and pour expensive perfume on them. The religious leader who invited Jesus over for dinner became indignant. He was repulsed by the woman's sinfulness and was shocked that Jesus was not equally repulsed. But then Jesus told a short parable that made everything seem a little clearer. This woman, in her great sorrow, exhibited so much love for Jesus. She had much to be forgiven, so she loved Him all the more because of all He had forgiven her. By spilling her perfume in an act of worship, the woman exhibited faith that Jesus could heal her. Her sins moved her to tears at the feet of Jesus, but they also moved her to worship Him by pouring perfume on His feet. In response to the woman's actions Jesus told her, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (Luke 7:50).

This woman was broken in spirit and contrite in heart. She sensed guilt over her sins, but she was not apathetic about them. Guilt prompted her to recognize that her sins had not been adequately dealt with, and contrition was the result. There are many days (especially as of late) when I deeply identify with this sinful woman. Painful remorse moves me to weep at the feet of my King, begging for mercy. And also like this woman, I come in worship, with faith that He can heal me. This is what God esteems. This is my sacrifice to Him.

So no, I do not think it is okay for Christians to be consumed by guilt. That would indicate that their sins have not been repented of. And no, I do not think that self-condemnation is appropriate for the Christian. That would indicate that they do not have faith in the power of the cross. But do I believe that God honors those who are humble and contrite- those who mourn over their sins with the faith that He can heal?

Yes, I believe it with all my heart.

When it doesn't Thrill like you Think it Will

There are days when everything I want seems within reach. There are days when I am satisfied that I have accomplished the major goals I have been striving toward. And then there are the days when I realize that achieving goals never really guarantees happiness. At this time a year ago, I was eagerly anticipating all the adventures I would be experiencing in a few months time. The thrill of traveling and doing ministry for a summer and the thrill of starting my new life in the city at the school of my dreams were the goals that I had been working toward all of Senior year, and in some sense, all of my life. Don't misunderstand, both of those experiences were incredibly thrilling. In fact, I don't know that I have ever been happier in my life than when I was in Guatemala or here at school. Going to new places and meeting new people satisfies that desire for adventure that God put in me. However, today I heard a tragic story from a woman that reminded me that having everything you want and doing everything the right way doesn't safeguard you from disaster.

Even if I have everything that I want, tragedy is always only a moment away. I don't say that to be pessimistic, but I say it to be realistic. Since everything I've worked for could be taken away in an instant, it makes me wonder how I would respond should tragedy ever strike (as it inevitably will- at least to some degree). "Are my successes the things that my happiness relies on?" "When I fail to accomplish a goal, does it devastate me?...Should it?" "What is the one thing, that if it were to be taken away, it would ruin me?" These are the questions that have haunted me since I started writing this blog a few days ago. I know what the answers to these questions ought to be, but if I am honest with myself, my answers are more than a little disappointing.

I've become pretty prideful in my accomplishments of the last year. I feel happy when I see that I have done a lot of "admirable" things. I graduated with honors- as I wanted to. I served overseas- as I wanted to. I'm attending a well-known college in a well-known city- as I wanted to. These accomplishments make me happy, and I can't help but postulate: what if I hadn't accomplished these things?Would failure have devastated me? If suddenly today I were unable to attend MBI, would I be ruined? I can't say for sure what my reactions would have been, but I realize how superficial happiness is when it is completely relative to a person's success in life. Success can't bring real happiness. Sure, it can make you feel good about yourself, but there is a lot it can't do. Success can't ward off tragedy or misfortune or death. Success can't make people love you. Success can't make God love you. In light of all these reflections, I'd like to explain the one thing that can satisfy in a way that success never will.

Even if every tragedy imaginable came my way, Jesus would not desert me. His love for me does not depend on my successes or failures. He never fails to satisfy. When I pursue Him, I find Him. When I cry out to Him, He hears me and comforts me. If you don't know what it is like to really know Jesus, then all of that will sound like a lot of abstract gibberish. But it is one thing to say the things I've said (as many have), and it is an entirely different thing to really experience a relationship with the King of heaven. Don't miss this! A relationship with Jesus will never fail to satisfy.

Humans look for all sorts of things to satisfy their hearts' desires. We are constantly on the search for the next big thrill, yet we are unendingly disappointed. Nothing ever thrills quite like you think it will. Success, money, romance, you name it. They each promise a thrill that they cannot deliver. Sometimes this blog serves me as a means of self-discovery. By writing, I unearth the issues that are really at work in my heart. Today, the Holy Spirit has convicted me of my misplaced source of satisfaction. And once again I re-learn that only my King will satisfy, and my only appropriate response to Him is worship. "My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you" (Psalm 63:5).

Whats in a Name?

I was walking into the office of one of my professors near the beginning of this semester to pick up a missed assignment. After I had stated my name and purpose, my professor said to me, "Andrea, do you know what your name means?" I'm sure that I have looked it up before, but I couldn't remember at the moment, so I replied, "No, sir." In his extra-thick southern accent my professor explained, "It means courageous or brave. Now young lady, are you a courageous young woman of God?" Taken slightly aback by the question, I stammered, "Um, well, I certainly hope to be." My professor handed me the missed assignment and ushered me out the door with the parting phrase, "And by God's grace you will be." The whole scene (as do all of my classes with this professor) left me trying to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. Because this professor speaks so quickly and with such intensity, his students often find themselves straining to hear and process every word. It was not until this past Wednesday that I was able to fully appreciate my professor's piece of knowledge about my name.

Christian author and public speaker, Francis Chan, addressed the MBI student body and literally thousands of others last Wednesday night in one of the events for the institute's Founder's Week. I fervently took notes throughout the numerous sermons I heard that week, but none of the sermons inspired me to change more than Chan's words about courage. Now, I can look back on certain events in my life and identify moments where I exhibited courage. When I was younger, adults told me it took courage to get up in front of an audience to speak or to sing. This past summer I realized that it took some degree of courage to fly internationally by myself. I have even envisioned my own future as one characterized by daily circumstances that will require acts of courage. However, after listening to what Francis Chan had to say about the subject, I felt more like a coward than anything else. Let me explain.

You may have heard it said that to be brave does not mean to never experience fear. Rather, to be brave means to act courageously in spite of fear. Chan drove home this point by expressing (emphatically, might I add) that it is normal to be nervous about sharing your faith with people. However, it is not normal for Christians to hide behind this fear and rarely, if ever, share their faith with others. I was suddenly reliving moments in my life where I did not share the hope of Christ with others simply because I was afraid of being shut out by them. I was paralyzed by a fear of being rejected, so I opted for keeping my hope to myself. Convicted as I was, I was beginning to realize that it really takes courage to share your faith with others. You don't know whether someone will shut you down or not take you seriously. It really is scary to risk being rejected by others!

Suddenly I was reminded of the meaning of my name. 'Andrea' means courageous! Now I don't think that my parents intentionally named me in the hopes that I would one day fulfill the meaning of my name. However, God did knit me together in my mother's womb, and He knew the days ordained for me before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:13,16). So perhaps God had a hand in my naming. He clearly has put a desire in my heart to do bold and courageous things for the honor of His name.

After last week, I came away with a resolve to pray for greater courage in the everyday task of sharing the hope of Jesus with others. I am also resolved to let the Word of God be the deciding factor for every decision I make. I know that others have my best interests at heart when they try to dissuade me from doing anything too radical for the fame of my King, but I won't be talked out of doing anything that God has clearly commanded me to do in His Word. I am commanded to go and make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19), and God-willing that is what I will do. I will do it here in the US, and if I leave this nation, I will do it wherever God leads. It may be politically incorrect. It may be dangerous. It may be the most frightening thing I will ever do. But equipped with courage from God, I will be obeying my Father's command. And as a faithful servant delights to serve a good King, I will delight to obey mine.

A Watery Grave

Just over a week ago, I visited a church here in Chicago with a few of my friends who attend it regularly. It was an incredible morning as several young believers were baptized.The pastor said a few words beforehand drawing attention to the fact that the practice of baptism is actually quite strange. Those who haven't grown up familiar with the practice would rightly be skeptical about the event taking place that Sunday morning. Just think about it. Someone professes to be a follower of Jesus Christ, and then they get plunged into a pool of water. "Why do they do that?" you might be thinking. "Why the ritual?...Why get soaking wet just because you follow Jesus?" These are fair questions. As I witnessed the baptisms that Sunday, I thought about why baptism is so powerful. It is powerful for individuals, and it is powerful for a crowd. Moreover, baptism represents two very powerful images: death and life.

When a person being baptized is submerged under the water- this symbolizes their death. This might be a strange concept to some, but it makes perfect sense to the believer. For the believer knows that he (or she) was once dead in their sins. I remember what it was like to be dead in my sins. My family does too, although perhaps they wouldn't ever think about it in those terms. When I think back to the time before I knew Jesus, I remember trying to cross every line I could without getting into trouble. I recall lying through my teeth and having hateful thoughts deeply embedded in my mind. I remember the desires of my heart, and today those desires shame me. What was more, I wasn't satisfied with my life. I was doing everything I wanted to do. No one could tell me 'no'. And yet, I was so unsatisfied. I trust that by now you know the story. But if you don't, the best way for me to sum it up is that Jesus changed everything.

When the person being baptized rises up from underneath the water, it is like they are rising to life from a watery grave. Once they were dead, but now they live. Every believer can relate to me when I say that Jesus changes everything. Looking back once again, the girl I was before I knew Jesus is hardly recognizable with the person I am today. My dreams are different now. My behavior and my speech is different. However, the greatest change is that I am wholly satisfied. When before I couldn't figure out my life's purpose, now I am sure that I was made to glorify my King. When before I didn't know where I belonged, now I know that I am a member of the largest family on earth- the universal Church. These things have brought me the greatest joy and peace. Joy because I have such a high calling for my life! Peace because I no longer worry about who I am or where I'm going! What I have just discussed has shown the powerful symbolic impact baptism can have on an individual. My own baptism when I was 16 was a joyful experience that I will never forget. But the power of baptism is not limited to the one being baptized. It is a testimony to all who witness it of God's power to change a life.

People have come up with countless objections to Christianity, and we believers have Christian apologetics to try and counteract those objections. However, there is one piece of evidence that no atheist, however strong his arguments, can refute: millions and millions of changed lives. Drug addicts turned clean, prostitutes made pure, murderers turned peacemakers, and the self-righteous humbled - all to the credit of Jesus Christ. Some might still object claiming that these people simply turned over a new leaf. But never have so many people, from so many places, for such a great length of history, all claimed that it was not they who changed themselves, but Christ's power in them.

The power of a changed life causes outsiders looking in to question it. That is why baptism is so powerful. It makes skeptics question the power of a changed life, and it causes believers to worship God for the changed life of their new brother or sister in Christ. I personally know the power of a changed life, and it is my prayer that you as well would encounter the power of the risen Lord to change your life or the life of someone you know. So if you find yourself unsatisfied with life, don't look to another self-help book. Look to the King.

All of Us are Mockers

Lately as I've been signing on to Facebook and scrolling through my newsfeed, I've found myself bombarded with all kinds of insensitivity. Whatever the subject, people are making bold claims without much regard for how their statuses might reflect their reputation or the reputation of someone else. No one seems to be thinking before they post. In fact, the opposite seems to be the case. People will post anything that comes to mind when a pulse of passion is running through their veins. I was starting to get annoyed reading posts that were mocking a plethora of subjects: young love, underage drinking, teen parenthood, promiscuous girls- just to name a few. I even made a comment on someone else's status expressing my own disapproval of such negativity. But then today, as I was sitting down to vent some of my frustration about this topic through this blog, I remembered that I have learned the lesson of loving instead of judging only recently. Obviously, I haven't mastered it yet, but I am trying to see the world through a different set of eyes. Let me take you back to just a few months ago when I first realized that there was a lesson that I needed to learn.

I was walking back toward campus from Union Station with a friend. In Chicago, not much should surprise me as I walk down the street, but I'd only lived here a little over a month at the time of this experience. So when I saw a group of guys in their early twenties with one young lady among them walking in front of us, I naturally made a few silent judgments. The guys looked, walked, and talked like the kind of guys you would expect to be real players and partyers. And the girl was wearing a slinky black top with a completely transparent back. To be painfully honest, the first thought that passed through my mind was, "She looks like a slut." And then, some equally painful words were whispered into my ear by my friend. "She must be so broken inside." I was so ashamed of what my first judgments of this girl were. That day I decided that from then on I would try to look past a person's exterior and into their heart.

It all comes down to one primary principle; everyone is broken. Every single person on this planet has known grief, and grief is not something to be mocked. So whenever you are tempted to post something vehement about ignorant middle school lovers, teen parents, dead beats, drunks, drug addicts, promiscuous girls, think about the brokenness and pain that you are mocking. Think about the 12 year old whose heart has been broken by a boy and who reads an insensitive post about 'girls like her'. Think about the guy that feels like he has ruined his life and sometimes thinks about suicide when he reads a post about 'dead beats like him'. Think about the promiscuous girl who is desperately longing for real love when she reads a post about 'whores like her'. I could go on, but I think the point is clear. Mocking someones pain is easy when you don't know who you are mocking, but (whether you know the person or not) mocking someones pain is always wrong.

And as your reading this, you can probably recall some time when your pain has been mocked or trivialized. Maybe it wasn't from a post on Facebook or Twitter. Maybe it was from a newspaper article, a news report, an overheard conversation, or even just a judgmental glance. It might be of some small comfort to know that I will not mock or trivialize your pain. I'm only just beginning to learn how to love people, but I would be blessed to learn how to better love you. On the other hand, it should be a great comfort for you to know that there is someone who can truly sympathize with your pain.

Jesus was rejected by people from his hometown- even by some of his family members. He was labeled and unjustly accused. He was spit on and beaten. He was mocked. And as you may have been the victim of judgment by those who don't really know your whole story, Jesus is the only innocent victim of judgment. Sinful people like you and me crucified the Son of God. Jesus never sinned, yet He was willing to die to take away ours. Because of His great love, my King died for those who rejected Him, labeled Him, falsely accused Him, spit on Him, beat Him, mocked Him, and crucified Him. And if you or I were there the day Jesus hung on the cross, we would have mocked Him too.

All of us are mockers.

Yet there is hope for those who put their faith in Jesus:

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need"(Hebrews 4:15-16).

The Opposite Way

If you've ever been in an auditorium, a gymnasium, or a large gathering of any kind after the crowd is dismissed, you know that it is nearly impossible to walk in a direction that goes against the masses. Racking my brain for a personal experience when this has happened to me, the first memories that come to mind are the moments when after a concert or musical that I've performed in, I try and make my way through the crowd to meet up with my family. I am eager to get to them so that I can ask them what they thought of the performance, and I'm eager to give and receive hugs and even words of affirmation. However, as I have said, getting there is somewhat tricky. Pushing past the crowds, saying, "excuse me" whenever possible, is an awkward and pretty uncomfortable experience. I can read the expressions on some of the faces of the people I squeeze in between. They usually seem to say, "I know you want to get somewhere, but you should really be considerate and let me and all the rest of these people go first." I understand their frustration, but I have always found it worth it to undergo the awkwardness of wading through the crowd. As often as poor analogies are used in Christian circles, I am sometimes reluctant to use analogies at all. But Jesus used them, and they were always effective. Besides, tonight I am on a mission to encourage a friend, and this analogy seems to be very fitting for the situation.

When someone is truly living for the King, everyone knows it. Servants of Jesus live differently than the rest of the world. They make decisions differently, they talk differently, and they enjoy life differently. As we can tell from history, people who are different often have to deal with awkward, uncomfortable or even painful encounters with others who disdain them for their 'differentness'. Our human instinct makes us gravitate towards those who are most like us, and our sinful nature makes us distance ourselves and sometimes form prejudices against those who are unlike us. So the genuine Christ-follower is bound to experience some opposition. Going the opposite way that everyone else seems to be going is never going to be easy, but the Christian knows that it is worth it.

I know from experience what it is like to experience resistance and hostility because of my beliefs. Just like going the opposite way through a crowd, sometimes you get dirty looks. At times a person will dare to utter a profanity at you. The worst part, however, is when these hurtful looks and words come from people you thought were your friends. Also, just like going the opposite way through a crowd, sometimes you accidentally bump into someone and rub them the wrong way. Even genuine Christ-followers are bound to make mistakes in their journey of going against the grain. The best they can do is apologize and continue on their way. Fortunately, the best part of this analogy is the last part.

The one thing to remember when your going the opposite way is that your destination is worth the opposition and hostility you might encounter on the way there. When I walk the opposite direction through a crowd, I don't take my eyes off of the people I am going toward. Otherwise, I might lose them. In the same way, the Christian has to keep their eyes set firmly on their destination. However, this is where the analogy falls short. For Jesus isn't only waiting at the finish line as his people struggle through the crowd, He is there with them. He is softening the blows at times, and he is filling them up with peace and power to get the rest of the way there. The only danger lies in losing sight of Jesus. If I lose sight of Jesus, pushing through the opposition becomes exhausting, and instead of being filled with peace and power, I am filled with doubts and despair. The Word of God gives better encouragement than I can:

"But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander" (1 Peter 3:15-16).

So my friend, set your heart on Jesus. Keep your eyes on the king.

Too Little Too Late?

Have you ever experienced that moment when you realize that you've left something unsaid, undone, unmade that you should have accomplished so much sooner? Or maybe its the other way around. You are waiting for someone to apologize or do something to make up to you for what they did a long time ago? Sometimes this feeling eats away at me. More often than not, I play the grudge-holder. I can get this sick satisfaction from being able to prove to myself that I've been wronged and thus deserve to have that wrong made up to me. What is even more despicable is that there have been times when someone has apologized to me for hurting me in some way, and I have blown off their apology only to continue to harbor resentment toward them. On the other hand, I know what it is like when you have something you need to say, but it is painfully hard to say it. Asking for forgiveness is an example of one of those circumstances.

Just a short while ago, I was given the chance to respond to an apology that was long overdue. It was not a wordy apology; it was simple and seemingly sincere. But the very fact that the apology was even made seemed to beg the question, "Isn't this apology too little, too late?" It was, in fact, an apology that I was not expecting to ever hear. I had been bitter and resentful toward this person for quite some time, but eventually I chose to let it go. So hearing the words I was never expecting to hear came quite honestly as a shock. I was suddenly faced with a decision. I could respond contemptuously, reasoning to myself (and to my offender) that I should have received that apology years ago. I could have made the outward appearance of forgiving my offender while in my heart really rekindling my bitterness toward the person. OR I could have chosen to genuinely forgive my offender with my head, heart, and mouth. By God's grace, I chose to respond in the latter of the three ways. Needless to say, this unexpected apology made quite the impact on me, and I began to consider what had changed in me that had allowed me to respond so differently now than I would have in the bitter years of before. I know my own heart well enough to say that had this same experience happened to me a year or more ago, I probably would have not really forgiven this person. I would have clung to my bitterness as if it were a part of who I am. So what changed? I was thinking through this question myself when I realized the answer was more profound than I thought.

As I mature in my relationship with Jesus, a sanctifying process is taking place in me. Of course I will never reach perfection nor anywhere close to it in this lifetime. However, as time progresses, it should become apparent to me and to others that I have matured spiritually. Thus, the act of truly forgiving someone should come more naturally the older I get and the closer I grow with the Lord. The word "sanctification" is used to describe one becoming more and more like Christ. When I was processing all of this in my head, all of a sudden the joy of my salvation hit me like a current. Jesus forgives as if it is not difficult for Him to do so at all! Jesus does not hold grudges or harbor bitterness toward me. When I think on the moment of my salvation, I am amazed that God could forgive someone like me.

My sin was (and is) an utter offense to my king. I had rebelled against him from childhood on, and I continue to sin against Him daily. But did my king scoff at me on the moment when I surrendered my life to Him, saying, "Your pathetic apology for you innumerable sins is far too little, far too late. I cannot accept you into my family or into my courts."? NO! Instead, like the shepherd who sought tirelessly through the night, He says to the hosts of heaven, "Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep" (Luke 15:6). And that is what happens every single time someone comes to Jesus in surrender with a repentant heart; heaven rejoices. "I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" (Luke 15:7).

This observance ought to move me to worship and repentance; that while I can struggle to find it in my heart to forgive someone who has wronged me once, Jesus rejoices to forgive me of all I have wronged him.