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Traveling on business today... Will catch up with everyone tomorrow. Thanks for your patience!

Tim

Nothing to Brag About

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.

                        Ephesians 2.8-9

Breaking It Down

After wrapping up my college studies mid-winter, some family friends offered an open-ended invitation to “decompress” in their Orange County, California home. I barely adjusted to the climate change when bizarre events—straight out of “90210” or “The OC”—led to my first job as a Christian high school English teacher. My predecessor, it seems, had more interest in his female students than their mastery of language and literature. It fell my lot to get a group of surfers and mallrats up to speed. Seeing their reading skills barely exceeded simple sentences, we put the lit books down and picked up grammar, starting with sentence diagrams. I left Ephesians 2.8-9 on the chalkboard as our holy grail. “When better than half of you can diagram this, we’ll move on,” I said. Honestly, I couldn’t begin to untangle Paul’s grammatical snarl all these years later. (If anyone feels so inclined, email it and I’ll post it with pleasure.) Yet the primary reason I chose this over other convoluted verses remains. The best way to fully appreciate Ephesians 2.8-9 is breaking it down, phrase by phrase.

Saved by Grace

“You’ve been saved by grace” is the core message. In classic fashion, however, Paul introduces complexity with two tenses: present (“it is”) and past (“you have been saved”). That’s not so hard. Grace is. Day in and day out, it exists for anyone to access God’s forgiveness and acceptance now like we did in the past. Hang on, though. Both phrases are passive, focusing on a shared object—you. Paul wants us to stop and marvel at two incontrovertible truths. God’s grace is ours for the taking, freely, without qualification. And salvation is more for our benefit than His pleasure. We need His grace and forgiveness more than He needs us. When we come to Christ, or lead others to Him, we do God no favors. He opens His favor to us. Our best interests please Him. Our happiness makes Him happy. The generosity of this overwhelms and humbles us. It is too marvelous to overlook—a given we never minimize as a given. In Romans 6.1-2, Paul writes: “Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means!” The prevalence of God’s grace belies its rare value. It and the salvation it affords must not be cheaply regarded as disposable things. Grace is. But we have been saved. We hold salvation most dear, protecting and prizing it day after day, rather than whimsically tossing it off when it’s convenient (or inconvenient, in some cases), since there’s always more where that came from.

Faith, Not Works

Once he sets us straight about grace and salvation, Paul tacks on a cleverly nested pair of modifying statements and a sobering coda. Grace and salvation come through faith, not works. We claim them simply by believing they’re available. Nothing we do—or can do—entitles us to either one. And here’s why: the price of both surpasses our means. This is essential for us to understand and accept, particularly we who have been misled to think we don’t conform to God’s acceptance standards. There are no standards because if there were, no one could attain them. Those who teach we have to give or give up anything to gain grace and salvation have things turned around. Look at Paul’s interjection. God is the Giver; we are the recipients. Faith enables us to accept acceptance. No prior qualification is necessary and no tangible proof is available. Hence, the key to prizing grace and salvation is protecting our faith in them from unfounded doubt.

When others try to convince us we’re unworthy of grace or unfit for salvation, we listen politely while dismissing their words. Their argument lacks Scriptural truth. At the same time, we don’t defend ourselves with counterclaims. Because grace is a gift and salvation can’t be earned, there’s nothing to brag about. All we have is faith—belief substantiated by hope backed with invisible evidence. Since we can’t prove God’s grace or our salvation, boasting is downright silly, almost as silly as attempting to explain why God gives them to us in the first place. Challenges to our faith end with meek thank-you’s, immediately followed by soaring gratitude to God for His marvelous gifts to us.

If not Dylan's finest album, it's most definitely his greatest album cover.

(Tomorrow: Keep Faith Alive)

Integrity and Seduction

Now Joseph was well-built and handsome, and after a while his master’s wife took notice of Joseph and said, “Come to bed with me!”

                        Genesis 39.6-7

The Burden of Beauty

When we entrust our lives to God’s care, He transforms the ugliness others heap on us into radiant beauty. But here’s the rub: perhaps to spare our aptitude for vanity, He doesn’t spare us the burden of beauty. Being attractive to others—if not always physically, certainly on an emotional and personal level—carries costs and liabilities. It targets us for undesirable offers and attention. It requires us to be always cautious, constantly aware, and extremely prudent in delicate, uncomfortable situations. Joseph is the perfect case study for learning how to manage seduction without compromising integrity.

Joseph far outranks his 11 brothers as his father’s favorite. He’s a dreamer who captures Jacob’s heart and as a result, receives lavish gifts of affection, the dearest being a fancy coat. His brothers can’t stand him. They sell him to slave traders and strip him of his coat, which they soak in goat’s blood to back up their story that a wild animal killed him. Joseph—scrawny, downcast, and poorly dressed—arrives in Egypt, where he’s sold to Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh’s guard. But Genesis 39.2 tells us, “The LORD was with Joseph and he prospered.” He grows stronger, more strapping by the day and climbs the ranks of Potiphar’s household until he’s in charge of its daily management while his master comes and goes on business.

The Desperate Housewife

Here the story enters familiar territory, later explored by everything from Lady Chatterly’s Lover to “Desperate Housewives”. Potiphar’s wife, bored and lonely during her husband’s prolonged absences, starts noticing what a fine man Joseph’s become. He’s a servant, purchased to answer her beck and call. So she beckons him to bed. He politely, yet firmly, declines. “My master has entrusted the entire house to my care,” Joseph explains, “except for you. How could I dishonor his trust and sin against God?” But this desperate housewife has no interest in Joseph’s welfare. She’s relentless. Finally, she catches him alone in the house and boldly pulls at his cloak. That’s all she gets, though. Joseph dashes away before she gets a tighter grip on him.

The Price of Integrity

Escaping trouble often invites trouble, as Joseph finds out. (Now we’re in To Kill a Mockingbird and “CSI” country.) Potiphar’s wife cries, “Rape!” and presents Joseph’s cloak as evidence of his assault. The husband returns, sees the cloak, believes the story, and has Joseph arrested. A young man disowned by his brothers and stranded without any rights in a foreign land, Joseph surely estimates the price of integrity to be greater than anticipated. He probably deals with regret, too. It was common for servants’ duties to include their masters’ personal pleasure; in many cultures, it was expected. He must ask himself, “Joseph, when will you learn? After all your hard work and honorable behavior, you’re right back where you started—stripped of your coat and your freedom.” Yet what looks like reversion to us sets up a classic reversal from God. (Nobody loves surprise endings better than He.) God had bigger plans for Joseph. After all was said and done, each apparent setback was really a quantum leap forward.

Our Father’s favor doesn’t sit well with others. They strip our pride, deceive those we love with lies, and sell us off without caring where we land. Then, as we grow in God’s grace and knowledge, our beauty attracts untoward attention. People of every sort tender seductions of every kind to compromise our integrity. Some insist, using our desire to serve as a lever. When we resist, it often looks like we’re back where we started. We can’t ever sacrifice our integrity and resolve, however. They’re very rare and vital to God’s plan. He will raise us to receive respect of the highest order. Joseph ended up second only to Pharaoh. Potiphar and his wife served him. His brothers, impoverished from famine, begged him for mercy and kindness. How’s that for a surprise ending?

Joseph and Potiphar's Wife (Tintoretto: 1555)

(Tomorrow: Nothing to Brag About)

Beyond Knowledge

[I pray that you] know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

                        Ephesians 3.19 

Rooted and Established

Paul ends his letter to the Ephesians with a magnificent benediction. He prays God will strengthen their inner beings, “so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” (Ephesians 3.17) Second, he asks God to enable them—as people “rooted and established in love”—to recognize “how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.” (v17-18) He wants them to understand as fully as possible that their faith and relationship with Christ are grounded in a love like no other. It knows no bounds, rises to unreachable heights, and is impenetrably deep. It reaches everyone, everywhere, on every level.

Christ’s love is a force unto itself. If we think of it on a human scale, we severely diminish our awareness of what it means to be rooted and established in such a love. Human love focuses attention on the object of affection and, depending on whom that is, determines how and how much of it should be parceled out. Suppose we do master the skill of loving everyone as Jesus taught, human comprehension of love will still encourage us to love some more than others. Our love for some will be strong enough to support genuine forgiveness. By caring so deeply for them, we can accept their flaws and failures. In other cases, though, forgiveness is more like dispensation—a pardon granted in conscious obedience to Christ’s commandments rather than a personal expression of love. Either way, we do our best and because human love has its limits, it’s the best we can do. Not so with Christ’s love. Its vastness covers all time and space, meeting each of us where we are and encompassing all of our shortcomings in its embrace. Being rooted and established in this great love permits it to flow into us and through us, making it possible for us to exceed the boundaries of human love and express Christ’s love—unconditionally, uniformly, and unsparingly.

Filled to the Measure

Paul says we can know this love, even though its scope and nature are beyond knowledge. In other words, having experienced Christ’s love for ourselves, we know its power despite not completely knowing how it works. It’s a phenomenon that defies logical explanation. Yet its behavior and impact are readily observed. We’ve witnessed the amazing effects of Christ’s love in our own lives: the startling realization that we are loved, the peaceful assurance we are forgiven, and the untrammeled confidence we are accepted. We don’t know why Christ loves us, given our miserable circumstances and tendencies. But He’s proven His love to us repeatedly by His grace and mercy. According to Paul, knowing Christ’s love is sufficient for us to be “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Understanding it isn’t required.

Love Changes Everything

Knowing this love changes everything. First, it changes us by altering how we see ourselves. Christ’s immodestly enormous love for us and our unworthiness of it offset anyone else’s assessment that we’re unlovable or unworthy. No one we’ll ever meet in life will love us like Jesus does. Love from others is to be treasured and protected. But it’s nothing in comparison to Christ’s love. At the other end of the spectrum, love others withdraw or withhold from us is troubling and regrettable. But its loss is miniscule on balance with the love we’ve been given.

Second, knowing Christ’s love changes how we love. When we bump into the boundaries of human love, we tap into the fullness of God in us—we access His special, bottomless reserve. We cease trying to stretch our love past its limited supply so His love flows freely through us. We get out of the way and let Him be. The crucifixion provides a prime instance of this. Suspended in unbearable physical and emotional agony, Jesus looks on the mob of turncoat followers and has no human capacity for love. He shows His love for them by turning to God. “Father, forgive them,” He says. He sets His personal feelings aside to rely solely on God’s mercy and grace. We know Christ’s love. We possess His ability to love. When our love fails, we don’t expend unneeded energy to justify why that is. We step aside so Christ’s love flows. We don’t understand it. We just know it.

 

Christ's love is a force unto itself, a phenomenon not like any kind of human love. When our love fails, we tap into His love's power.

(Tomorrow: Integrity and Seduction)

Breaking the Law

Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” But they remained silent.

                        Luke 14.2-3

Gravity

Courtrooms across the US prominently display Justice as a classical Greek figure holding a balance. She’s blindfolded to signify voluntarily ignoring extraneous information and beliefs that might tip the scales unfairly. In essence, then, Justice relies on gravity—deciding what feels most important on a case-by-case basis—and legal arguments amount to amassing heavier rationale on one side or the other. Weighing priorities sets new precedents and strikes down old ones. We’re taught courts serve justice by upholding the law, when in fact the law’s purpose is to uphold justice. When the law confounds justice, it’s no longer useful and sacrosanct. In these situations, the law is already broken, incapable of functioning effectively, and irrelevant. Jesus demonstrates this in Luke 14.

The Sabbath Doctrine

He’s dining with a prominent Pharisee on the Sabbath, which is most irregular, as Jesus isn’t known to cozy up to the religious establishment. The host and his friends watch His every move for the slightest infraction of Sabbath protocol. Jesus, being wise to this, stays on His best behavior. Then He notices a man with dropsy—pronounced swelling secondary to a more serious disease, such as heart trouble. Christ’s power to remedy the man’s condition raises a legal issue. The law forbids work of any kind on the Sabbath. Jesus is a healer; healing the man breaks the law. Not healing the man is unconscionable, however. Rather than take the law into His hands, He drops it in His adversaries’ laps. “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” He asks. But His underlying question really is, “Is it just for this man to suffer because I’m forced to conform to legal traditions?”

They don’t have a ready-made answer. What was black-and-white moments ago turns stubbornly gray. They feel the scales tip from precedent to principle and they have nothing to counter-balance the shift. Jesus heals the man and replaces the Sabbath law with a Sabbath doctrine. “If your son or ox falls into a well on the Sabbath, do you let him drown? No. You immediately pull him out.” Jesus substitutes flexible application that upholds justice for strict adherence that undermines it. He teaches this doctrine in context of the Sabbath, but it should govern our actions every day of the week.

An Appearance of Wisdom

Many of us have been in the sick man’s position: hurting inside, showing symptoms outside, and praying someone would take the liberty to bend the rules for our benefit. In a lot of cases, when that doesn’t happen, we became outlaws, disregarding Christ’s laws of love completely instead of separating man’s rigid dogma from His pliable principles. Once we grasp His law’s objectives—the justice it upholds—we apply it as befits each situation’s need. We weigh the priorities and decide what’s best. Christ gives us that freedom. Listen to Paul’s take on this:

“Since you died with Christ to the basic principles of this world, why, as though you still belonged to it, do you submit to its rules: ‘Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!'? These are all destined to perish with use, because they are based on human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence.” (Colossians 2.30-23)

Religious rules break on their own, particularly when tightly gripped by those who ignore purpose to focus on performance. They have an appearance of wisdom, but they lack value by reinforcing attitudes and prejudices Christ commands us to avoid. When someone tries to corner us with rules, or groups offer their hospitality in hopes of condemning us, we don’t have to fall into their traps. As Jesus demonstrated, obeying God sometimes means breaking the law.

Religious laws that value conformity over compassion don't uphold justice. We don't break them--they're already broken.

(Tomorrow: Beyond Knowledge)

Find Something to Do

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.

                        Ecclesiastes 9.10

Taking Care of Business

Luke 2.41-50 tells a terrific story. Each year, Mary, Joseph, and their family join a caravan that travels to Jerusalem for Passover. On this particular occasion, Jesus is 12 and He spends long hours with the temple’s teachers, who are dumbfounded by His prodigious understanding. Passover ends, everyone packs up, and heads home. A day passes before Joseph and Mary realize Jesus isn’t with the rest of the group. They return to Jerusalem, spending three anxious days scouring the city to locate Him. They find Him in the temple—the last place one would expect an adolescent boy—and Mary scolds Him for the worry and inconvenience He’s caused. “Why did you seek me?” Jesus asks, alluding to the fact they should have known they’d find Him where He was. “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” (Luke 2.49; NKJV)

This was the first instance of what would become one of Jesus’s most telltale traits: He was constantly taking care of business. He remained engaged, making time to take time for others’ questions and needs. Although people didn’t always get what they came to Jesus for, He turned none of them away without hearing their requests and either meeting or challenging them. It was exhausting, time-consuming work. When Jesus felt overly taxed, He wisely pulled back to regain His energy and composure. Mark 6.31 tells us at one point things got so hectic He nor the disciples had time even to eat. Jesus says, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” Then, newly restored, they get back to work.

Job Placement

While people referred to Jesus as “Rabbi,” as far as we know from Scripture He had no training to certify His qualifications. He had no formal title and held no permanent position. He wasn’t placed in a job. Jobs were placed around Him. When something needed doing—feeding multitudes, communing with sinners, opposing injustice, consoling the bereaved, touching the sick, and so on—He didn’t acquiesce to others originally slated for those tasks. Any need that gained His attention meant someone else was either indifferent about or incapable of doing his/her job. Throwing up His hands in frustration over systemic and moral neglect wouldn’t help the problems at hand. “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might,” says Ecclesiastes. That’s what He did. Personal suffering was His immediate concern. Social and religious irresponsibility also concerned Him. Yet He reserved His comments on “bigger picture” issues for times when His audience consisted of leaders and officials charged with those duties. Jesus didn’t take up a “cause” and leave it at that. He took on the job of finding something to do and He got the job done.

The Day Shift

“As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work,” Jesus tells the disciples in John 9.4. Solomon finishes his admonition to handle jobs as we find them with a similar thought: “for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.” Followers of Christ work the day shift. We’re awake, alert, and able to see needs around us. They’re placed in our lives and field of view so we can meet them with love, compassion, and understanding. We can’t escape opportunities to help anyone’s immediate pain by reasoning the system is broken, others are better qualified, or it’s none of our business. His children’s welfare being God’s business makes it our business, too. Except for brief rests to reinvigorate our energy, we should be on the job, predictably seen in places and among people in need, doing the work of Him Who sends us. Let’s look around us. What do we see? A lonely neighbor. An outcast acquaintance. A hungry family. An ailing child. A misunderstood friend. There's no shortage of jobs that others have left undone. When we find something to do, let’s do it—and do it with all our might.

Needs at hand are reasons to reach.

(Tomorrow: Breaking the Law)

The Year of the Lord's Favor

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

                        Matthew 4.18-19

A Changed Man

After Jesus’s decisive triumph over the Tempter, He wends His way home to from the desert, stopping off in various places to astound people with His teaching. News of His impromptu sermons precedes Him. Lifelong friends and neighbors pack Nazareth’s synagogue, expecting to be dazzled by their new local hero. As Jesus stands up, someone hands Him the scroll of Isaiah. He opens it to chapter 61, reads the first two verses, and sits down. All eyes fasten on Him and no one moves. Jesus breaks the silence: “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” He continues, and the eloquence of His message enthralls the people, who ask one another, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?”

By every indication, in word and demeanor, Jesus returns to Nazareth a changed man. His wilderness experience and time abroad have given Him authority and assurance. The boldness of His text and audacity of His announcement surprise everyone—as does His comfort to speak such things without fear of reprisal or criticism. Indeed, He’s so confident of His words He breaks the silence in His listeners’ hearts. “I know what you’re thinking,” He says. “’Do some of the cool stuff we’ve heard about.’ But what if I did? You wouldn’t respect me any more than your ancestors did Elijah. Their disbelief tied his hands and though Israel was starving from famine, he could only help outsiders.” The congregation turned into a lynch mob. They herded Jesus out of town to throw Him off a cliff. “But,” Matthew writes, “he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.” (v30)

No Time for Foolishness

Did they not hear what Jesus said? Did they not believe He meant it? He had just proclaimed the year of the Lord’s favor, saying God had anointed Him for this time, to reach the poor, free those found guilty and unacceptable, enlighten those unable to see, and liberate those oppressed by social and legal taboos. There was a lot to do in this first year of ministry. He needed to act swiftly, taking full advantage of these early moments before fame and recognition triggered interference from critics and leaders. Jesus had no time for foolishness. That’s why He called His own people on their nonsensical desire to see a show rather than their willingness to support Him. (Note: other than His brothers Andrew and James, none of Jesus’s disciples hailed from Nazareth.) In their frenzy of indignation and confusion, they lost complete sight of Jesus. When they got their act together to dispense with Him once and for all, He was long gone.

Greater Things

“Yes,” we say to ourselves when reading this, “that’s so like Jesus to speak authoritatively and elude time-consuming, self-defeating controversy.” What we implicitly mean is, “He’s a special case. We can’t be expected to do everything He did like He did it.” We’re right in a sense, but our thinking is gravely wrong. We’re expected to do more. “Anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father,” Jesus tells us in John 14.12. Falling short of Christ’s example is inexcusable and merely replicating His accomplishments falls short. When we act on His promise, He guarantees our success. We will do more because He sees we can do more.

The authority and assurance He displayed in Nazareth is ours for the taking. We, too, can boldly declare the year of the Lord’s favor. And it seems there’s no better year for it than 2009. Poor people must be reached. Outcasts must be freed. Restored sight must come to blind victims of bigotry and fear. Oppression must end. God anoints each of us for these tasks. The home crowd will demand a show of some kind before believing the legitimacy of our call. We don’t have time for foolishness. Being under the radar gives us a prime opportunity to get things done now. We can’t get bogged down trying to justify our calling. Let those who doubt waste their time on controversy and backlashes. If they won’t hear us, many beyond their circle will. We need to find them and leave the others to look for us long after we’ve moved on. “The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it,” 1 Thessalonians 5.24 reads. That’s how great things get greater.

 

May God bless us to make 2009 the Year of His Favor.

(Tomorrow: Find Something to Do) 

Postscript: New Inroads for the New Year

Two days ago, I got an email from James Hipps, the project manager for two prominent gay sites, www.GayAgenda.com and www.BestGayBlogs.com, asking permission to feature Straight-Friendly as a blog of note. Both sites are comprehensive, meaning they cover the entire spectrum of online gay culture, from sociopolitical topics to “mature content.” I couldn’t have been more pleased or honored by the invitation, and immediately accepted. The recognition is terrific. But more than that, the offer puts Straight-Friendly right where it needs to be—a place providing new inroads to a wider audience of GLBT people struggling with religious rejection. God be praised for this blessing (as well as earlier inclusion on a similar, Chicago-based site, lifelube.org, which already has generated considerable traffic here). And a hat-tip of gratitude goes out to James Hipps and lifelube’s editors for supporting gay spiritual health along with other concerns and interests.

Ironically, James’s note came on the heels of another I didn’t intend to share. But I must, simply as a testimony to God’s grace and His marvelous sense of timing. Last week, I submitted Straight-Friendly for link consideration at another Christian blog hub. I received a gracious note declining the application. “It’s what I think of as an issues blog,” the editor wrote. “Nothing wrong with that”—“Seinfeld” fans, you know what that means—“but it’s not something we normally work with.” I took it on the chin; in fact, after spending more time with some of the bloggers gathered there, I’d already decided to withdraw my application. But it stung, nonetheless. And then, the very next day, here comes God, opening a new door to a place far better suited to our focus and efforts. He truly is a Wonder!

When you pray, remember Straight-Friendly and ask our Father to guide those who open Best Gay Blogs, Gay Agenda, and lifelube in search of spiritual comfort and community our way. And join me in thanking Him for these outstanding resources and opportunities.