One thing that I struggle with a lot is how to deal with the guilt associated with sin. I believe that this is a major problem in my life, because I do not know how to reconcile the fact that I sin with the picture I have of myself. Is this pride? Vanity? Low self-esteem? Probably all three and a lot of other things too.
Something that I found interesting was Galatians 3. The whole chapter deals with the law, in the context of the Jews' legalism. This deals with one aspect of "sinning righteously" (that is, not allowing your sin to disable you and prevent you from continuing God's will): verse 10 says, "All who rely on observing the law are under a curse, for it is written: 'Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law.'" Verse 5 says: "Does God give you his Spirit and work miracles among you because you observe the law, or because you believe what you heard?"
It's hard for me to realize that God wants me in spite of my faults. That just because I fail all too often does not mean that I have no worth to Him or, indeed, any of my friends. That God is with me not because I observe the law (I don't), but because I believe in Him.
I'm not sure exactly how to get myself to the point where I actually wholeheartedly believe this, to the point where I am able to live with myself after sinning. As it is, I find myself withdrawing and brooding, which I know from twenty years' worth of experience is extremely unhealthy and ultimately counterproductive.
Verse 3 is also interesting: "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" But what is the difference? What exactly does it mean for the Spirit to "fix" me? On the one hand, I know that I cannot conquer sin by myself. On the other, I know from experience that God does not expect me to sit back and let Him do all the work (that would be too easy). In the meantime, I just try to do what I think God wants me to, trying to ignore my shortcomings.
C.S. Lewis said that there is nothing more dangerous to the demons than someone who is in the midst of a down point in life--beaten, bruised, or perhaps just bored--who nevertheless keeps on plugging away because he believes in God and made a commitment that he simply won't break. Lewis implied that this occurred during times when God would take away most of His visible presence in that person's life, thereby enabling that person to grow more quickly and permanently. I find this both comforting and encouraging, because, in the midst of guilt about sin, if I keep doing God's will, I am still doing it right by Him.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Squishing Grapes
Biblegateway's verse of the day today is Matthew 20:17-19, where Jesus again predicts His death. I decided to read the rest of the chapter, and found that, just prior to His dire prediction, He told the parable of the vineyard.
In this parable, Jesus tells a story about a man who goes out in the morning to hire people to work his vineyard for the day. The thing is, he goes out multiple times throughout the day, hiring different groups of people--but all for the same wage. When he pays them, he pays them in reverse order, causing those who had been working longer to expect higher wages. They don't get them, though, and the owner of the vineyard has some pretty choice things to say to them when they complain.
I think the overall point of this is that we all get the same thing in the end: either angels soaring or devils drooling. It doesn't matter if you've been following Christ since you were five or if you were a deathbed confession; ultimately, the same gift is promised (crowns and other confusing symbols in Revelation aside).
Something that I found interesting was that the master of the vineyard tells the workers that he is not being unfair to them. He says that they all agreed to work for the same wage, so why are they complaining? I do not find it irrelevant that in the very same chapter the Zebedee brothers approach Jesus with their mother and ask for positions at His left and right hands.
I don't know if we will all be treated entirely equally in heaven. Revelation seems to imply that some will be rewarded more than others, perhaps on the basis of works (I think Jesus may have also told some parables to that effect as well). But what I do know is that we should be satisfied with what we have. We work towards a vague notion of implied bliss, not because we deserve it, but because God gives it to us. We have eternal life at our fingertips; now, what the Dickens are we doing asking, "Please sir, I want some more?" If God wants to play favorites with the exact degree of giftedness, I fail to see how that is any of our concern. God knows I'm not going to be the one seated at Jesus' right (does such a position even exist? Or was Jesus just messing with them? I would love for them to get to heaven and for Jesus to say, "Hi guys! April Fool's!")
Another thing I found somewhat interesting is that the master says, "Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money?" This is more potent when you consider that God is actually saying it. It makes me think back to God's response to Job, when Job finally got fed up with all of the horrible things happening to him--it's essentially the same thing. You, the world, and everything in it are Mine, all Mine, whether I am acknowledged or not, and I can do whatever I want with it. Trust me to do what's in your best interest. I wonder if God asks this question every day in answer to so many questions that we have.
The final thing the master asks is, "...are you envious because I am generous?" This is a bit puzzling, because I see two distinct possible meanings for it.
First, the obvious meaning and most direct meaning is that we are envious of what God gives to the people around us. So-and-so is smarter, or prettier, or more athletic, or whatever than I am, and it's not fair that God gave that talent(s) to him and not to me. I think this can sometimes be a real problem in my own life, since I often feel the need to compare myself to others and realize that they are better than I am at something. Why? I dunno.
But the way the sentence is phrased confuses me somewhat. Other translations talk about evil eyes caused by the goodness of the master, which only clouds the issue even more (the best I can figure is that it is some sort of idiom for what the NIV translates it to--some of the translations even have mixtures of the two).
What's interesting to me about this is that, if you take the sentence literally, their envy is a direct result of the master's generosity. I think this might show a consequence of their sin.
What's happening here is that the master is doing something good: he's being generous, but his good deed is being twisted and is indirectly causing these other people to sin. I wonder if this is a less obvious meaning behind the parable: when we envy, we take something that God has given someone else and turn it into something evil for our own descent into sin. Not that the gift itself becomes evil, but for us it does, because it encourages our envy.
If we take this to its logical conclusion, the gift itself becomes a point of contention, perhaps even division. Does the gift become evil? Not in itself, but suddenly it becomes the catalyst of a host of other sins like pride or lust. Marriages have fallen apart over things like this--people leave churches all the time over contrived reasons that have envy at their root.
I wonder if this is put here as a warning to us.
Ramble ramble ramble...
In this parable, Jesus tells a story about a man who goes out in the morning to hire people to work his vineyard for the day. The thing is, he goes out multiple times throughout the day, hiring different groups of people--but all for the same wage. When he pays them, he pays them in reverse order, causing those who had been working longer to expect higher wages. They don't get them, though, and the owner of the vineyard has some pretty choice things to say to them when they complain.
I think the overall point of this is that we all get the same thing in the end: either angels soaring or devils drooling. It doesn't matter if you've been following Christ since you were five or if you were a deathbed confession; ultimately, the same gift is promised (crowns and other confusing symbols in Revelation aside).
Something that I found interesting was that the master of the vineyard tells the workers that he is not being unfair to them. He says that they all agreed to work for the same wage, so why are they complaining? I do not find it irrelevant that in the very same chapter the Zebedee brothers approach Jesus with their mother and ask for positions at His left and right hands.
I don't know if we will all be treated entirely equally in heaven. Revelation seems to imply that some will be rewarded more than others, perhaps on the basis of works (I think Jesus may have also told some parables to that effect as well). But what I do know is that we should be satisfied with what we have. We work towards a vague notion of implied bliss, not because we deserve it, but because God gives it to us. We have eternal life at our fingertips; now, what the Dickens are we doing asking, "Please sir, I want some more?" If God wants to play favorites with the exact degree of giftedness, I fail to see how that is any of our concern. God knows I'm not going to be the one seated at Jesus' right (does such a position even exist? Or was Jesus just messing with them? I would love for them to get to heaven and for Jesus to say, "Hi guys! April Fool's!")
Another thing I found somewhat interesting is that the master says, "Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money?" This is more potent when you consider that God is actually saying it. It makes me think back to God's response to Job, when Job finally got fed up with all of the horrible things happening to him--it's essentially the same thing. You, the world, and everything in it are Mine, all Mine, whether I am acknowledged or not, and I can do whatever I want with it. Trust me to do what's in your best interest. I wonder if God asks this question every day in answer to so many questions that we have.
The final thing the master asks is, "...are you envious because I am generous?" This is a bit puzzling, because I see two distinct possible meanings for it.
First, the obvious meaning and most direct meaning is that we are envious of what God gives to the people around us. So-and-so is smarter, or prettier, or more athletic, or whatever than I am, and it's not fair that God gave that talent(s) to him and not to me. I think this can sometimes be a real problem in my own life, since I often feel the need to compare myself to others and realize that they are better than I am at something. Why? I dunno.
But the way the sentence is phrased confuses me somewhat. Other translations talk about evil eyes caused by the goodness of the master, which only clouds the issue even more (the best I can figure is that it is some sort of idiom for what the NIV translates it to--some of the translations even have mixtures of the two).
What's interesting to me about this is that, if you take the sentence literally, their envy is a direct result of the master's generosity. I think this might show a consequence of their sin.
What's happening here is that the master is doing something good: he's being generous, but his good deed is being twisted and is indirectly causing these other people to sin. I wonder if this is a less obvious meaning behind the parable: when we envy, we take something that God has given someone else and turn it into something evil for our own descent into sin. Not that the gift itself becomes evil, but for us it does, because it encourages our envy.
If we take this to its logical conclusion, the gift itself becomes a point of contention, perhaps even division. Does the gift become evil? Not in itself, but suddenly it becomes the catalyst of a host of other sins like pride or lust. Marriages have fallen apart over things like this--people leave churches all the time over contrived reasons that have envy at their root.
I wonder if this is put here as a warning to us.
Ramble ramble ramble...
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