Category Archives: Theology

Suffering and Sovereignty: a Follow-up

My last post may have caused some confusion regarding the timeliness of teaching some truths. Suffice to say, all theology that helps us understand God biblically (in this case, his sovereignty), may help us through hard times when we know it going in, but may prove an untimely truth, misunderstood when first received in certain situations.

Likewise, sin’s role in suffering proceeds from Eden, and may have only secondary (or further removed) causality in our suffering. In John 9:2-3 the disciples inquired whether a man was blind for his sin or for his parents’. Jesus replied, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” Sin wasn’t causative, but had the fall not happened, blindness wouldn’t be an issue. When sin’s role is more apparent in suffering, a comforter should tread carefully.

Pondering suffering and sovereignty in my own life, I find this helpful: Consider the child who cuts her foot on a rusty nail. Already suffering a cut, her parents take her to the doctor, who’ll add stitches and shots to her misery. From the child’s perspective, subjecting her to more pain seems cruel and uncaring. From the parent’s perspective, it’s love for the child and purposeful for her long-term good.

Similarly, when sin is at issue (in the following illustration, disobedience), consider finding your child playing in the road against your strongest commands. Depending on traffic, you might rush to grab him by the arm, yanking him to safety before giving them a good swat on the bottom. So, in this case, you clearly haven’t been able to make him understand actual danger (traffic), so you give him a memorable, alternate incentive (punishment) to obey you in an effort to keep him from true harm.

These parents understand this suffering, but look past it for the child’s welfare.

On the “why” of evil and suffering, consider this small child, yourself and an infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, creator God. Where do you suppose is the larger gap in understanding? Between you and the child, who we’ve already determined is unable to grasp parental wisdom, or between you and God? Clearly, if we have wisdom over and purpose in some instances of a child’s suffering, God has greater wisdom and purpose in our own.

Both of these illustrations convey to me that God has purposes in whatever befalls us. For the believer it’s correction, preparatory training, reparatory work, or some combination of all of these – done in love. Unlike some Christian pundits, I’m not to venture God’s specific purpose for believers or others, in any evil and suffering large or small. Further, since I’m not the center of the universe, my own suffering may simply play into (and most certainly does) a complexity of interrelated stories concerning those around me. May my witness reflect his perfect purpose over my present pain.

In 2 Corinthians 4:8-12, Paul poetically enumerates his great suffering for Christ, before finishing (17-18): “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

God opposes evil (Habakkuk 1:13), but has power over it and purpose in it we cannot see. In fact, he uses it and suffering for our collective, eventual good (Romans 8:28). If a sparrow’s demise doesn’t escape him (Matthew 10:29), how close he must hold the suffering!

On Sin and Sorrow: Suffering and God’s Sovereignty

Whether the logical outcome of our own buffoonery, the carelessness or cruelty of others, or as rain from the clear blue, suffering in this life is a fixed certainty (John 16:33). Degree varies for “fairness,” as we understand it, isn’t in play. If you’re reading this, unless you are currently on fire (or suffering thusly), you likely wouldn’t agree to randomly switch places with one of the other seven billion people on the planet. Yes, those in the West enjoy some ease, but suffering is inescapable, whether peculiar to station (Matthew 19:16-22) or common to man (Luke 8:41-42). Life can hurt in abundance and need.

In our rush to “run the race,” we sometimes tie our shoes together, or fail to notice low limbs and deep holes in our chosen shortcuts. Our ever-present penchant for sin, no matter how wise seem our decisions, makes for a gravely road under the skinny-tire bicycle of life. Hubris, impatience, greed, slothfulness and more have led us all to react, speak, choose wrongly, behave badly, and move impetuously or indecisively – hurting others and ourselves. Some of us won’t pay the ultimate price for our sin (because it’s been paid), but most of us will taste its rotten fruit – on a cot in a cell, or in a bed of suffering and regret.

Add to our self-inflicted wounds the unintentional ricochets or deliberate shots of others. Physical and painful or ethereal and emotional, the negligence and barbarity of humans, one to another, has been well-documented since Cain killed Abel (Genesis 4:8). Those surviving torturous blows might also suffer the tension between revenge and forgiveness, wrongly believing the former will satisfy where the latter is the only true, if partial, relief.

Somehow, sin is at the root of all suffering. The Bible makes that clear, but it may be an unsatisfying answer to sufferers. Karma seems the natural response to the dilemma. Basically, if your sky is raining manure, you somehow seeded the clouds (Job 4:7-8). It’s “you reap what you sow” as quid pro quo rather than as a guiding principle of sin and judgment (Galatians 6:7). Still, actions have consequences, and to the degree we can recognize our sin’s contribution, we have power to lessen our suffering by lessening our sin. Even this is of grace when we realize how miniscule is any blowback compared to the price already paid…or that deferred for later payment.

Finally, our sorrow can come as seemingly random as the cartoonish piano or safe that breaks loose above the city sidewalk, only to hit us while we’re standing in a Kansas cornfield. As suffering settles in after natural disasters, dreadful diagnoses and inexplicable accidents, “blame” is not so clear.

Regrettably, this is the place where many indict God, and reason, “a good God wouldn’t allow this if he was able to prevent it.” This perspective imagines a malicious ogre who delights in our suffering, or a hand-wringing wimp, “good” in motive, but powerless to help. Neither of these unreasonable facsimiles is the biblical God. The Bible shows a good and loving God (Psalm 107:1), sovereign over everything that transpires (Isaiah 46:10; Luke 1:37).

Truly, only a clumsy caregiver will speak first of sovereignty or “God’s will” to participants of tragedy, even if there’s some sense that it’s true. It’s also less than helpful to pose that weakling God who “suffers with you.” That’s your job (Romans 12:15). Instead, declare the loving God of promise, familiar with suffering, powerful over it and purposeful in it, as proved by the cross and resurrection.

Hope Entombed with Sabbath Gloom

On a Friday long ago, history pivoted on the crucifixion of a carpenter turned peripatetic teacher. Extraordinary darkness (Matthew 27:45) oversaw the events at midday as “the earth shook and rocks split” and the curtain guarding the Holy of Holies was torn, top to bottom (51). Much has been written of that day, awful as it was, now known as Good Friday for what his sacrifice means to Christians.

Similarly, for those who truly trust in the person and work of Jesus Christ, both during his sinless life (“active” obedience), and including his unjust arrest, trial and death (“passive” obedience), Resurrection Day receives its due honor, both in our seasonal holiday, but also in our celebration on the first day each week, Sunday. This resurrection was the ratification of the New Covenant – proof that this God-man, who “came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15), accomplished just that.

Oh, the horrors of that Friday…and sweet contrast, the joy of that Sunday!

What, though, of that day between? Other than the Jewish/Roman tomb-guarding tactics (Matthew 27:62-66), the Bible says very little about that particular Sabbath. In preparation for it, “the Jews asked Pilate” (John 19:31) to break the legs of those crucified in order to hasten their death so they wouldn’t hang on the Sabbath (traditionally beginning at sundown Friday). Having been found already dead, Luke tells of the request for Jesus’ body and his burial (Luke 23:50-56). Speaking of those involved, the account finishes, “On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.”

One must suppose that, for all these disciples who had so much hope in Jesus as the coming Savior, this had to be the most restless “rest,” and the longest, darkest, most hopeless Sabbath in history. Perhaps this rest met the requirements of the God-given law, and the casuistic, pharisaical codicils, but one can scarce imagine anything other than stomach-churning, doom-inspired, internal agony.

To be carefree on that day was to be oblivious to the expense and expanse of what happened the day before. To be downcast was to be unaware that hope entombed would spring forth more robust, like a simple seed to fragrant flower or an acorn to mighty oak.

For them it was a time in-between. Deaf to his numerous promises that “on the third day (the Son of Man) will rise again,” and mistaken in precisely what manner the Messiah would be crowned King, they suffered a Sabbath with no expectations but of persecution for their association with him. Ah, unbeknownst to them, what glory awaits with that coming dawn as hope is reborn!

What of us? We also are in a time in-between. We don’t suffer the emotional nadir of watching him die, pondering how the one with power over “the winds and the waves” (Mark 4:41), even over life itself (John 19:44), lies in decay. Neither, though, do we have their pinnacle of joy, seeing him alive again, face-to-face. But, Jesus blesses us in this existential difference – “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29b).

Our present struggle “between” means we see the crucifixion and bodily resurrection as God’s work in history – apparent defeat turned world-changing victory – so necessary for our hope (1 Corinthians 15:12-23). Blessed as we are to know the war is won, battles still rage. Life is hard. Happiness may lie beyond arm’s reach, but joy and a sure and certain hope remain, inextricably tied between his death and resurrection, and his promised return.

Indeed, “Christ Has Died, Christ Is Risen, Christ Will Come Again!”

Who Killed Jesus? I Did

Provocative, yes? Whatever Mel Gibson has done wrong in his life since his movie, “The Passion of the Christ,” he did something right in its production. He chose, for symbolic reasons, to have his own hands filmed nailing Jesus to the Cross. His recognition of culpability is compelling.

I remember the charges of “anti-Semitism” for their role, but biblically, the Romans killed Jesus at the behest of the Jewish leadership who had “stirred up the crowd” (Mark 15:11; cf. Acts 2:22-23). Besides, that indictment should have been mitigated by Gibson’s metaphorically taking blame in his role with the hammer and nail. “Who killed Jesus?” many instigators asked. “I did,” answer all who truly understand the cross.

Charged with a predilection for bad company, Jesus answers, “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31b). The irony is wasted on those, then and now, who believe they “are well” (see Romans 3:23). We all have the same sickness – sin – and there’s only one cure (see John 6:44; 14:6). As few would choose chemotherapy without exigencies, no one seeks the cross without understanding their need and its provision.

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23). It is the biblical Christian’s acceptance of our common diagnosis, and its corollary prognosis, that opens our eyes to the substitutionary efficacy of Christ’s death, and to the Scriptures that proclaim this truth (Isaiah 53; 1 Peter 2:24; 2 Corinthians 5:21).

The “why?” of the cross has been subjected to all manner of lathing and sanding to get rid of sharp corners and rough edges – every humanly objectionable, but heavenly requisite, morsel of truth. Not only is the “danger: harmful to self-esteem” placard pasted on our self-blaming above, the God who would substitute his own Son to take the penalty due us becomes guilty of “divine child abuse.” Rubbish.

The biblical Christian must contend with the truth that Christ’s greatest suffering came not from the scourging, thorny crown, and nail-pierced hands and feet, nor even his abandonment by his disciples. Jesus’ physical/emotional abuse was not insignificant, but not the zenith of his pain.

Instead, it is in drinking “the cup” of the wrath of God he previously sought to avoid before bowing to his Father’s will (Matthew 26:39). We cannot fathom the expense, nor imagine what transpired between the Father and the Son, but we do know that in some sense Jesus was “forsaken” (Matthew 27:46) by the Father he had been in eternal communion with. Thus, Jesus’ greatest suffering was at the hands of his Father.

Further, humanity didn’t paint God into a “Plan B” corner. His holiness demanded payment, so “Jesus (was) delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23; cf. Isaiah 53:10). And, Jesus was willing, declaring that no one would take his life, but that he would “lay it down of (his) own accord” (John 10:17-18).

These facts are not exculpatory for you and me or for those more directly blameworthy in that day. It was our sin Jesus carried to the cross, drinking that cup meant for us…at a cost we can’t comprehend.

Planned as it was, the Father is not on the lengthy list of those to “blame,” for in costly grace, His self-sacrifice compares with that of the Son. Their cooperative, atoning work is more than sufficient to bear the sin of those who are responsible, but embrace the Savior who is “mighty to save.”

Faith Alone? Yes…and No

In my last article, I intimated that “the biblical Christian [is one] who trusts Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone.” The tenor of that article was about proper and improper ideas of “works” in relation to faith. Of Christ, grace and faith, these “alone” phrases make up three fifths of the Reformation’s “Five Solas” (Sola is Latin for alone or only; the other two fifths are Scripture alone, and glory to God alone). “Faith alone” became the shorthand statement for how we are justified before God, or “saved,” while still understanding the proper weight of importance for the five together as necessary to the whole formula of becoming, then living and growing as a child of God.

Today, faith is often considered “alone,” or independent of an object for that faith. Thus, faith is an entity or power in and of itself. “You just gotta have faith” say some to those suffering this conundrum or that. Like positivity, faith can be ginned up from within, and will push us past and over obstacles in our way. Outside or within any religious system (Norman Vincent Peale and his progeny have imported this idea into erstwhile Evangelical Christianity), this “having faith” or “thinking positively” can create wealth, heal illness, or bring any number of propitious outcomes to pass – all while never considering in what or whom that faith lies. This having faith-in-faith approaches fideism – that is, a belief independent of reason.

Even when objects of faith are identified, this tolerant “to each his own” theology finds plenty of common ground for an amorphous “faith community.” One can have faith in a historical (or fictional) person, in one or many gods, or in a previously known, biblical deity who’s been through “Extreme Makeover: God Edition.” Each member of the Trinity has suffered such makeovers; eviscerating all nuance and paradox such that each final product looks very much like the makeup artist!

In the end, with or without an object, this broad, welcoming and undefined faith has only one requirement – sincerity. Sincerity, or genuine belief without hypocrisy or duplicity, is unfortunately no measure of viability. Neither is the magnitude of faith a measure of its truthfulness. So, if the sincerity of faith and the strength of faith don’t ultimately matter, what does?

Consider the travelers who come to the frozen river knowing their destination is on the other side. Billy Bob is confident and begins to cross when Jimmy Joe says, frightfully, “wait!” Jimmy Joe is scared and can only cross the river on his belly inch-by-inch – his faith is minimal and doubt-filled while Billy Bob’s is strong and certain. Who will make it to the other side – one or both or neither? Will Billy Bob’s confidence save him? Are Jimmy Joe’s doubts his undoing? What ultimately determines the success of their collective effort?

Well, of course, it is neither their faith or lack, nor strength or weakness, nor confidence or fear; it’s the thickness of the ice that determines whether they’ll survive. Likewise the final arbiter of faith is its object.

We’ll all cross a river one day – the river Jordan is a metaphor for true believers into the “promised land.” Some contend that all faith is nonsense and is solipsistic (self-contained, “unsullied” by external reason). Others say God will reward sincere faith regardless of its object or its irrationality. Biblical Christians have reason to believe that the Bible is true and that God, through Christ, is knowable. Faith alone? Yes, as a God-given conduit of God-given grace in the one, particular, biblical God.

The “Do More, Do Better, Try Harder” Treadmill

Of faith it has been well said that “profession” alone saves no one, so the prayed prayer, the signed card, the walked aisle or the trip down the stadium stairs at a rally are, in themselves, worth nothing. Rather, value is in the persevering “possession” of faith that remains from one of those events, or from whatever form one’s first faith took.

The oft-debated and therefore trite “once saved, always saved” may be the fire insurance mantra of those who hang on to their profession as the only evidence of faith, unaware that a fruitless faith is no faith at all (James 2:17-20). While many in some sense continue to “believe,” it is not necessarily biblical faith. The Protestant Reformers gave such saving faith three essential aspects – knowledge, assent and trust. “Belief” might cover the first two in some respect, but without trust in the person and work of Jesus Christ as the ONLY hope we have (John 14:6; 15:5), it is impotent to save.

On the flip side, some will seek to do many good works for many bad reasons. The religionist stacks works like a chair on a table on a box on a beach ball hoping to climb into God’s favor. Even the hedge bettor, though not so obvious, adds works to their profession “just in case.” Finally, the insecure believer works to “prove” their faith to themselves/others, or to pay God back for the free gift.

Still, even the biblical Christian who trusts Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone, will sometimes suffer life somewhere on the broad spectrum from ungrateful laziness to wrongly-motivated works. Serious churches/Christians see a distinction between nominal (name only) Christians and “true” Christians, and therefore are more likely fear the “do too little” side of the scale.

Enter the “do more, do better, try harder” sermon, book or Bible study. These are legion. They go something like this: “Let me tell you the story of the biblical character or ‘way’ Christian missionary or contemporary believer who loves more, gives more, prays more, sacrifices more, studies more, shares more, sins less, is braver…and happier…than you.” Then there’s this – “be like Jesus.” Oy.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a “go and do.” There are clear teachings of each of the “do more” examples above…even to be like Jesus (1 John 2:6). And, conviction is important and can be gratifying – “I needed to hear that.” But, does anyone not already know they fall short, that they don’t do enough or care enough? If you don’t know that, you’ve got other problems. Beleaguered believers run this “try harder” treadmill and it’s like having them get in shape with exercise and no food.

Any biblical Christian might often despair of his/her fruitlessness, so caution should be maintained to respond rightly. “For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ” – Robert Murray M’Cheyne. That’s your food. Delight in the Christ of the Bible. Rehearse his gospel. Contemplate his beauty and grace. Meditate on his perfection. Then, get to work.

Works follow faith. Biblically, they do “account” for something, but not salvation (Ephesians 2:8). Biblical Christians should maintain a sense of indebtedness without presuming to repay. We are now not only debt-free, but inheritors of more than we can imagine (Romans 8:17). This incalculable grace should motivate gratefulness. So, our grateful response is not to do for God, but to do for others – the overused “pay it forward,” where your God-giftedness will determine what form “it” takes (1 Peter 4:10). Those are the “works” that follow true faith.

A Word to Live By

More than a few folks bristle at the idea that people of faith get their warp and woof from a book. There are numerous examples of people, past and present, who use(d) their “holy” book to excuse wreaking havoc on the world. Others who believe all people are “basically good” are forced to conclude that these books and their brandishers must necessarily brainwash adherents – those who believe their specific book is given by God – and are therefore dangerous to the continued progress of man.

Religious books aren’t all of the same stripe. The ethereal natures of some Eastern and “New Age” religions don’t require verifiability or historical accuracy of their texts because their “truths” transcend those categories. Others, whose books would seem to be historical (including some Judaism and Christianity), use various four-fold interpretive methods that include the literal meaning of the text, but go to a more allegorical, subjective sense to derive ultimate meaning. Biblical Christians, and I suppose Qur’anic Muslims, and maybe Mormons and other quasi-Christian sects, must needs be “people of the book,” and those books must be in accord with actual natural and supernatural events to be coherent.

For the last 150-200 years, liberal scholars have taken to “demythologizing” the Bible. Enlightenment rationalism has forced many who would “save Christianity” to skew the Bible almost as ethereal, mystical and mythical, so that events like the virgin birth and the resurrection are not taken literally, but super-spiritually – “Jesus has risen in my heart” even if his body still lays dead somewhere. For Paul (and us), Christ’s actual, bodily resurrection is an imperative (1 Corinthians 15:12-19).

The Bible depends ultimately on the objective truth of God as he has revealed himself, and what his Word says he has actually said and done in history (revelation). There are copious tests for historicity, continuity, coherency and authority, and biblical Christians welcome honest scrutiny as should any said “people of the book.”

That said, there is indeed a spiritual component to understanding the Scriptures (1 Corinthians 2:14), so if you approach it to disprove it, you might indeed do so to your and others’ satisfaction. Blaise Pascal stated, “In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.” (Note: authors Lee Strobel and Josh McDowell are two of many exceptions – scoffers whose investigations led to faith.)

So, I may take a later column to dispel some popular misconceptions (or skeptics’ holstered challenges – locked and loaded for rapid fire avoidance of actually considering answers) about the Bible and how it’s to be read and interpreted as the author(s) intended. For now, let me speak to (myself and) my brothers and sisters.

The reformers stated regarding the sufficiency of Scripture that “the Bible is our only rule for faith and practice.” Given that Christian Scriptures are central to understanding the God who made us – the Christ who saved us (Luke 24:27) – you might agree that knowing it should be somewhat paramount in our practice of the faith. Knowing it…is knowing Him. Reading, learning, memorizing and meditating on “the Word of God” would seem to be essential to leading a life pleasing to the God who made himself known. Yet, Christians are in too large measure illiterate of the book they claim to love. It is meant to be consumed for our guidance and delight (Psalm 119:11; 1:1-2).

A Rose by Any Other Name?

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Shakespeare’s Juliet declares her indifference to the rival family name of her lover, Romeo. Her love for him transcends this label regardless of its social significance. Still, peoples’ names have historically carried associative weight socially, aesthetically and intrinsically.

In many cultures, descendants who carried the bloodline were due some title, honor or notoriety simply for being born into that family – this, long before the attachment of surnames. This is still at least partially true as you consider, say, the British Royal family, or what one might assume meeting a Kennedy from Massachusetts. Whether proved by scrutiny for a famous name or accolades for success from humble beginnings, knowing “whence we come” matters.

We are all born individuals, but we also carry something forward by blood/genetics of our parents and by the sort of nurture and experience with (and of) those who raised us, and those with whom we were raised. Our biological/experiential history affects who we are and our names become the descriptor of that person. “Make a name for yourself” and “identity theft” are contrasting idioms confirming the significance of the name/identity relationship.

If history and heredity matter, then there is one such historical person whose pedigree is unmatched. His name is Jesus. Matthew and Luke trace his genealogy back to Abraham and Adam respectively. This has everything to do with prophecies about Him and the covenants God had made in history with each, directly affecting the meaning of the gospel as a solution to the “problem” caused by Adam and the promises made to Abraham.

Similarly, the biblical Jesus conveyed his eternal relationship with God as a Son to a Father; in the minds of his hearers making him “equal with God” (John 5:18; He was/is subordinate in role only, equal in essence). His supernatural conception (“born of a virgin”) was the first of many miracles that confirmed his heavenly family tree. His own miracles, like those of God in the Old Testament, were “evidence” (John 14:11) and were done “so that you will know” (Exodus 8:22) the authority of the one performing the sign or wonder.

“…At the name of Jesus every knee should bow…and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.” (Philippians 2:10-11) Just as God had gone to great lengths in the Hebrew Scriptures to make clear how his name carried the weight of his character, now this Jesus is exalted by the Father as “the name that is above every name.” (2:9)

Many religionists insist in their “many roads to God” ideology that “we all worship the same God.” All “Christians” don’t even worship the same Jesus! That’s why “Christian” might be a good sociological category, but it’s useless in terms of understanding who is really believing on and trusting in the person and work of the historical, biblical Jesus Christ.

If I told you I knew Oprah Winfrey, you might be impressed until I said, “he’s a skinny white guy.” He may be AN Oprah, but not THE Oprah. Similarly, LDS (Mormon), Jehovah’s Witnesses, many cults, and even many established churches have so dismantled, added to or cherry-picked God’s Word that their “Jesus” bears only slight resemblance to the Christ of the Bible.

By necessity, if the Bible is true, these “based on a true story” doppelgängers are fictional characters unworthy of devotion. What a shame that the moniker Christian is almost meaningless, and when someone says “I believe in Jesus,” you have to ask, “Which one?”

Christians, Your Sky is Not Falling

Hope and cheer resident in our recent holiday celebrations seemed somewhat tempered by universal instability. There’s terrorism, home and abroad, and bi-polar politics – if the polls are right our choices will be “pick your poison” (the Liar or the Lunatic?). Racial unrest is piqued by some questionable law enforcement actions. We’re in a time of hyper-sensitivity to “offense” (as taken, not intended) and rules change to bridle the tongue and redefine “normal” far afield of the Bible’s standard. Our teeth are set on edge, for indeed, there is very little perceptible “peace on Earth.”

Add to these global problems individual concerns. My own issues seem gargantuan to me, but many of you could compete and win an “Oh, that’s nothing…” contest. Cancer, death of loved ones, unemployment, relational rejection, and familial turmoil are just a few of the burdens we bear – all potentially exacerbated by the holidays.

For the social media savvy, it gets worse. While we’re knee-deep in our own suffering, we look at our friends’ Utopian lives. We see vacations to far-off places and milestones for all their “awesome” family, and photos of the party to which we weren’t invited. Their studio-quality “selfies” make them seem only minutes older than “back then,” where our own make us look like Alfred Hitchcock in bad lighting. Ugh.

Sharing good things isn’t wrong, but the comparison of our real struggles with their faux perfection can lead to despair. Their façade may just belie difficulties far worse than our own, and while no one wants Eeyore for a Facebook friend, consider for all of us – are we presenting a Shangri-La life online, when our reality feels more like nuclear winter?

Even a biblical Christian will admit that life at times seems like a dumpster fire, or like a spin in the back of a cement mixer filled with rocks. We all have scars aplenty, and many have all-too-fresh wounds to our souls.

I’ve painted a pretty pitiful picture, no? Chicken Little, sound the alarm!

Not so fast. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33b) While no statement in the Bible is said in a contextual vacuum, Jesus’ statement as quoted can be more broadly applied in truth to all believers as is borne out in statements by Peter (1 Peter 4:12-14), James (James 1:2-4) and others. “Don’t be surprised,” “Count it all joy,” are their declaration to believers about the trials of life and faith and the good that will result.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) We can and should pray for desired temporal outcomes – healing of bodies and relationships, employment and finances, etc. That said, given this verse in Romans, our “peace” here is not dependent on the absence of trials…but reflective of our perspective in the midst of them.

Insert here Ted Turner’s “crutch” accusation or Marx’s “opiate” comparison. Indeed, naïve escapism and denial is unhelpful (e.g., Mary Baker Eddy’s Christian Science). That said, pitiable is the truly broken soul who pretends no need for support and finds no eternal hope past the pain resident in everyday life.

The God of the Bible is not caught off guard by your turmoil or the lunacy that is the world. You can rest in a sovereign God who will somehow bring good from “all things” for those who love Him. I write to myself and to you – peace, believer, the sky is not falling.

Hey Jesus, What Have You Done for Me Lately?

While few Christians would really ask this, many find the scriptural account of God’s work in history insufficient as fuel for faith. They seem to need an experiential immediacy not therein promised. Verses are plucked from context to support teaching an intimacy with God on par with prophets and apostles – even when present day inaudible “listening to God” is far different than the accounts of God’s interaction with people in the Bible. Somehow, our adoption by the Father, the imputation of our sin to Christ and his righteousness to us, and all we can look forward to as co-inheritors with Christ in eternity…isn’t quite enough proof that God loves us.

Today, experience trumps doctrine, and “head knowledge” is maligned and pitted against “heart knowledge.” To be sure, no biblical Christian would deny a frequent emotional response to grace, both in the whole redemptive story and in our own, but perilous is the chase for experience, and “feelings” are notoriously bad arbiters of truth. Our dissatisfaction with copious biblical assurances of endless love and sure and certain promises (for His people) forces new teaching calling for “listening” during prayer and “pray about it” decision making – roughly the heavenward equivalent of the “bat phone.”

As always, I could be wrong, and I know I am certainly in the minority in the Christian circles in which I run. I also know God can do anything he wants, and that your personal, anecdotal experience belying my thoughts here are unassailable. I also believe strongly that the Bible doesn’t teach these practices as they are commonly taught today, and that studying the full context of the verses used for proof texts would prove my point.

The problem is that it’s taught that “maturity” means an ability to “discern” God’s mind or voice (as is generally the case), making one of two outcomes is certain. Those who “hear” nothing despair of their faith, wondering why God doesn’t “speak” to them. Others will begin to sanctify their own thoughts (often, not always, biblically informed) with a spectrum of language from the more obtuse (“I feel led…”) to the more certain (“God told me…”). Christening our decisions thusly may sound Godly, but it’s simply moving responsibility for consequences from us to God.

Popular teachers like Beth Moore and Sarah Young (“Jesus Calling”) report these intimate, inaudible conversations they have with God, and attempt to set them below Scripture in value, but ultimately and necessarily devalue Scripture in the process. When one is familiar enough with Scripture, these new revelations (that’s what they are) will sound a lot like God, but to give them His authority is more than troublesome. Study the Scriptures and discover the weightiness of claiming “God said,” and further the consequences when He says, “No, I didn’t.”

If you insist still that God’s speaking to you (outside the Bible), use this test of qualities of His New Testament interactions. Is it rare? Is it intrusive and unsought? Is it unmistakably supernatural (audible/visible visitation)? Is it clear and unambiguous? If it meets those criteria, it has authority and must be obeyed. If not, it may just be your imagination. (Note: thanks to Greg Koukl at str.org for his teaching on this.)

There is a mysterious way that the Holy Spirit leads and guides us, but He doesn’t make our decisions for us. The Word gives us boundaries within which we are free to do as we please. The accounts of God’s sacrificial love for his people in Scripture should be sufficient promise and hope until His return.