Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Hard Promises
It's not often we think of promises as hard but we most certainly live in a world where promises can be very very hard (Ever had to promise not to talk to somebody you care about?). I want to suggest to you that some of the hardest promises with which we have to live this side of heaven are God's promises.
In a story most of us know well God came to a 75-yr-old man named Abram and told him not only would his long-barren, equally-elderly wife bear a child, but that God would "make of him a great nation". Abram took God at His word, uprooted his family from the only home they'd ever known, and followed God east. 25 years and hundreds of miles later Sarai had yet to bear Abram a son. It was only in the 100th year of his life that Abram and Sarai conceived Issac, the child of God's promise.
The reality of this story is hard to ignore. God made a promise to Abram and He kept that promise, but how differently must Abram have imagined his future when God told him he would have a son? How many nights in that quarter century of sojourning must Abram have rended his garments and begged God to make Sarai pregnant?
One of the hardest truths for "Christian" people is that we have no say in the way God brings about that which He promises (look at how God's own chosen nation reacted to the means by which God brought about salvation and atonement in the person of Christ). Further, our sin renders us blind to reality in such a way that we misinterpret God's promises and expect temporal, earthly goods and blessings as opposed to blessings in heaven.
What does that mean for you and me? Let me (as closely as I can remember) quote Dr. Richard Pratt: "God doesn't owe you good health; and He's not cheating you if you're health is not good. God doesn't owe you a good marriage and He's not cheating you if you don't get one. God doesn't owe you well-behaved Christian children and He's not cheating you if you don't have them"
We are promised eternity and felicity as children of God but that felicity is not happening right now; it is to come. Here, we are faced with hard promises, trials and troubles. May God give us grace to endure and believe
Thoughts on where we're headed
I’ve been privileged not once but twice in my life to be a part of what I’d consider to be remarkably open and loving groups of people. The first time came during the fall of my senior year of high school (1996). I was hanging out with my friend Andrew after a Friday Night Football game (I capitalize that because Football is always capitalized in
Over the next four (or so) years I probably spent more time at that restaurant than I did at home. Those people became the people I laughed and cried with; the people I dated and watched breakup; the people who were constantly around every part of my life. I stood with them when we buried Munir and I stood with them as a groomsman at (my dear friend) Davy’s wedding. Moneer’s closed around 2000 and we’ve since scattered across the country (Andrew’s in law school at Alabama, Dallas went to film school in Iowa and now lives in LA, Davy went to law school at Syracuse and now practices in Huntsville) but we still regularly talk and see each other every chance we get. Why? Because we have deep, rich, full community.
I want to suggest that we as group came pretty dang close to nailing the Gospel idea of community. This idea comes out of verses like John 15:9 “As the Father has loved Me so have I loved you, now remain in My love.” The key to this passage (as with similar passages) is the comparison between the way God loves and the way we are instructed to love. God is in effect saying “You’ve seen how I loved you, now go out and love others the same way”. How did God love us? The prophet Joel can help us with that one. At the beginning of his third chapter, Joel describes the future judgment of the nations “In those days and at that time, when I restore the fortunes of
Hanging out at Moneer’s was as close as I’ve come to loving and being loved the way the Bible tells me I’m supposed to love. I can honestly say that that was a place where it didn’t matter what you looked like, who your friends were, or where you were from. If you wanted to come hang out, we wanted you to come hang out and we were gonna love on you like you were family. That kind of love is my great hope for our ministry to young adults. More than that, however, it is the way we are commanded to love (2 Corinthians 5:18-21, Galatians 6:1-3, etc.). Thus, the barometer for the success or failure of our ministry is found in whether or not we’re building and maintaining Gospel community. Are we opening our arms to anyone that walks through the doors? Are we encouraging the “us” and “them” mentality that kept so many otherwise solid churches out the cities and the mercy ministries until recently? Are we teaching kids that the only thing they’ll ever have that’s worth anything is Jesus Christ; and encouraging them to build relationships based on that? The first moment we look at someone as funny or different is the first moment we fail as a ministry. For us to be faithful to the Gospel, the doors of Covenant have to be a border where all the artificial boundaries and judgment of this wretched, depraved world fall by the wayside and the love of Christ reigns. Moneer’s was a place like that once. I hope by God’s grace Covenant will be as well.
