The Bible isn’t my daily manna

I heard it many times growing up. “Your daily Bible reading is your daily manna. Yesterday’s reading won’t suffice for today. Read the Bible every day to receive fresh bread of life.” I never questioned it.

Until recent years. Several things brought me to the point of questioning this oft-repeated maxim.

For one thing, during some significant trials, the rich food that I gained from one day’s Bible reading sustained me for many days when I was unable to read the Bible.

For another thing, I began to see that in the “Steps to Knowing the Word of God”—that is, hear, read, study, memorize, meditate, and apply—some crucial concepts were missing. Drastic, gaping holes.

But most importantly, I read John 6. I really read John 6. And there, in a passage that I’d probably read hundreds of times, I finally realized that my daily manna is not the Bible.

It’s Jesus.

He says it clearly, plainly, over and over. “I am the Bread of Life. I am the Bread from Heaven. I am the Living Bread. I am the True Bread.”

I cried out to God, “Lord, what in the world does this mean? How am I supposed to receive the manna of Jesus? How can I eat His flesh and drink His blood?” For days I read and prayed and read and prayed, crying out to God.

I knew my Bible reading had something to do with it. It had to. After all, I can’t even know who the Living Word is outside of the vision of Him I see through His written Word.

As I read and prayed, I remembered the indictment in Hebrews 4 against the Israelites in the wilderness: “the word preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that heard it.” I knew that the word “mixed” there was the same word used for the process of digestion that breaks down food so that it can be sent as nourishment to all parts of the body.

And then I saw. As the written Word is ingested, the Living Word can be digested. But only with the digestive juices of faith. I must read with a heart actively believing, seizing on truth. This is what transforms the written Word in my head to the Living Word pulsating in my very life.

The Bible reading that sustained me for days afterwards? Through Colossians I had received a clearer vision of Jesus, and in the darkness and difficulty of the following days I was able to close my eyes and focus my heart once again on Him.

The drastic gaping holes? Crying out to God for understanding, rather than simply relying on my own intellect and assuming God would help me. Believing what I read, with passion rather than passivity. Do you say these go without saying? I think not. How can absolute imperatives go without saying?

For years I followed the hear-read-study-memorize-meditate rule without crying out for understanding, for a gripping of my heart. For the most part I believed, and God did certainly work in my heart through His written Word, but the faith was more passive than active. When I began to approach the Word with an active, desperate faith, I began to see Him work in my life in new ways.

And now, when I come to the Word of God, instead of my old intellectual “This-is-God’s-message-to-me-and-by-jiminy-I’m-gonna-learn-it” approach, I come to it with longing to see the beauty of Jesus Christ, to be filled with the love and power and joy of Jesus Christ, to experience a life of bringing glory to God through Jesus Christ.

He is our True, Living Bread from Heaven.

A song I love to hate

I don’t really hate it . . . but I dislike it a lot.

It has such a beautiful title: “I Am Satisfied with Jesus.” My heart leaps up in response to that title. Yes!

It’s an old song, sung in the churches in which I grew up, so you may not know it. It goes like this:

“I am satisfied with Jesus! He has done so much for me. / He has suffered to redeem me. He has died to set me free.”

Well, the poetry isn’t the greatest, but I appreciate the sentiment. So far so good.

Here is the refrain, sung again and again for four verses:

“I am satisfied, I am satisfied, I am satisfied with Jesus. / But the question comes to me as I think of Calvary, / Is my Saviour satisfied with me?”

It’s a rhetorical question. So you’re supposed to know the answer. Listen, and you’ll hear it. It comes roaring down the empty corridor and resounding off the concrete walls.

NO!!

No, He’s not satisfied! I’m not doing enough! I need to try harder! I need to make a longer list! I need to sleep less! I need to work and work and work! More Bible study! More prayer! More witnessing! More church attendance! More passing out tracts!

For three more verses this song lays the burden of guilt on heavier and heavier and heavier, until you are bowed almost to the ground under the weight. He has done so much for you! Why aren’t you doing more for Him? And with this mindset, no matter how much you do, you’ll always ask that question, because how can you EVER do as much for Him as He did for you? It’s impossible.

I never really liked this song, even back in the days when I didn’t understand why I didn’t like it. In fact, I felt guilty for not liking it.

But then I began to understand Salvation in Everyday Life. The Gospel that saves moment by moment. The Salvation that changes not just my destination some sweet day, but my desires, my direction, and even my death in this very day. I began to understand the outpouring River of God’s grace to do all the things He wants me to do, through the power of the Holy Spirit (who, by the way, is ignored in this song about doing things for God).

About three years ago I was giving a little . . . talk . . . to my children about how the mindset of this song is wrong, explaining the truth about salvation. “The truth of the matter is that if I am IN CHRIST, then He is completely satisfied with me, because Jesus Christ is completely satisfying.”

My daughter uttered some beautiful words: “That sounds almost too good to be true.”

“Ah, yes,” I said. “That’s the gospel.”

Maintaining a false unity

I’m learning about some pretty horrific stuff that’s been allegedly going on in the Sovereign Grace Ministries circles. Not that I was unfamiliar with the problems there—SGM Survivors have been blogging since about 2007, and I’ve known about the blogs and occasionally looked at them. But recently the details have been described more graphically, and the case is going to court. With Facebook, especially, the situation has become ever more public.

At the same time, I’m studying Ephesians, in chapter 4 about maintaining unity in the bond of peace.

At the same time I’m researching for Hidden Heroes #6, based in Colombia. Reading about believers who refused to take up arms against those who came against them and joyfully, gladly gave their lives for the cause of Christ. Christians who give all their time, effort, money so that the gospel could go forward, seeing amazing results as lives were truly transformed.

As usual, as I cogitate, and as the Holy Spirit reveals, seemingly unrelated areas of my life tend to intersect.

Suppose a church or ministry says to its people, “Don’t say anything about _____________ [fill in the blank with a scandalous, heinous activity within the church], because if you do, the ministry will suffer. The cause of Christ will suffer. The outside world won’t understand. People will go to hell.” The unspoken message is, “If our lives are a mess, we can’t let anyone know. We’ve got to keep giving the impression that we’re unified in love and cheerful obedience.”

What they don’t say, and what many church people don’t catch, is that they’re demanding unity on the basis of what a man says rather than what Christ had done. They’re maintaining a façade of unity, a veneer of the Christian life, when there’s a rot at the core that desperately needs to be torn out and replaced with a good strong foundation. A foundation like the one the Colombian believers so obviously had.

What’s going on when a young woman finally has enough courage to take her rapist to court, but he happens to be a pastor . . . or a missionary . . . or a ministry leader . . . and in the courtroom not a single Christian is sitting with that young woman—they’re all maintaining their unity by sitting with the accused? Is this the kind of unity David talked about, Jesus talked about, Paul talked about?

What’s going on when some absolutely shockingly heinous accusations are being brought against a ministry that has been able to maintain a good reputation among evangelicals (in spite of a rumbling amongst the bloggers) and almost no one in the larger Christian community calls them to account? Is that considered an admirable unity? I’m not talking about claiming their guilt before a trial. I’m talking about people saying “Abuse is wrong. Horribly wrong. Sovereign Grace needs to be willing to let this case move forward. They need to show the transparency that they demand of others. The leaders cannot be at a different level of accountability.” Where is the outcry? Why the deafening silence among those who have rubbed shoulders with Sovereign Grace leaders? Do they think they’re maintaining unity in the bond of peace? Do they realize that they are the ones hurting the cause of Christ?

They may start an organization called “Together for the Gospel,” emphasizing their unity, but the people who so desperately need this gospel—alleged victims of some of the very men in positions of leadership, are being shunned. Some of them have said, “If this is your Christianity, if this is your Jesus, I’m not interested.”

What kind of unity is this? It’s the difference between being unified around the Savior, an eternal Cause, like the Colombian believers, and being unified around a “Leader,” a cause made by man. The unity that truly together lifts up the Name of our Savior Jesus Christ will show an outpouring of love to the weakest among us (and who is weaker than our children?) rather than keeping silence so that a “ministry” won’t be toppled.

Do we think that the “outside world” can’t tell the difference?

What about church attendance?

A friend brought to my attention a very legalistic article,  Why Should Christians Attend Church? by Dale Robbins. Each statement  is flawed, and on that friend’s blog I answered each one point by point. Now I’m reposting here.

(1) Is church attendance an expression of our love for God? No. Worship is the expression of our love for God. Many people who “go to church” do it for various wrong reasons rather than to worship. Saying that this activity is an expression of our love for God is making worship into an outward thing rather than a heart thing.

(2) Does church attendance build up spiritual strength?
No. Jesus Christ is the sole source of our spiritual strength, rather than any activity that we do. Can I build up my spiritual strength by doing a hundred push-ups a day? Neither can I build it up by driving to a building and walking into a building and sitting in a chair and opening my Bible.

(3) Does church attendance bring a special visitation of the Lord’s presence?
No. A special visitation comes with a gathering in the Name of Christ, which is more than just in words. This can happen anywhere with any Christians, and may not happen “at church.” (There are churches that have “Ichabod” written over the doorposts.)

(4) Does church attendance provide fellowship with other Christians?
Sometimes, but often not. The very way that most church meetings are designed seem to be trying to eclipse fellowship with other Christians. Come. Sit quietly. Shake hands. Sing. Sit quietly. Shake hands again. Go home and watch the football game.

(5) Is church attendance an act of obedience to God?
No, certainly not in and of itself. How desperately the Christian community needs to understand and recognize that outward acts of “obedience” are utterly noxious to God when there is no faith. God calls them “dead works” and commands us to repent of them.

(6) Does church attendance provide accountability to spiritual leadership?
No, though church involvement could, if it’s the right kind of church.

(7) Does church attendance combine our spiritual strength in prayer?
No. However, corporate prayer could do that. Do we even have any spiritual strength to combine? Are we praying together? Are we REALLY praying together? Are we even praying? Is this accomplished by church attendance?

(8) Does church attendance honor the Lord’s Day?
No. There is nothing in the Scripture that even hints at this. But Hebrews 4 tells us that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of the Sabbath rest.

So why do I want to “attend church”? That term is too passive, and I never use it. What I say is “be connected with a church” or “be part of a church,” because a church is a living, breathing organism, rather than simply a meeting.

Here are some reasons:

1. I want very much to find and connect with other like-minded Christians.
Through the church, especially one like ours that fosters relationships, I can meet needy people–those who need mentoring or monetary help or physical assistance–that I can help. I can meet women who can help and encourage me.  The church gathering, especially the hallways and lobbies and cafes and nurseries and aisles and prayer rooms, is an ideal venue for meeting these people.

2. I want my children to learn more who God is.
The church we’re a part of has a primary pastor who is very clear in his presentation of the truth of who Jesus Christ is and how the good news of the gospel applies in our everyday lives. It’s important for them to hear it from some other authority figure other than just us.

3. I want to worship God with other believers.
True corporate worship really is strengthening to the faith of all of us.

4. I want to pray with other believers.
Our church may have a ways to go in developing believers in this department, but they’re making the attempt, and they provide opportunities and places to go to pray two or three together. It’s not unusual at our church to see people clustered here and there spontaneously praying together.

5. If I ever were in a situation that needed church discipline or crisis counseling, I would be in a sad state if I didn’t have a connection with a church that had pastors who took their job of discipling seriously.
Though all pastors make mistakes, some of them grave, the pastors of the church we’re in  still try to counsel in love and wisdom and follow the Matthew 18 protocol in their dealing with difficult discipline situations.

In Dale Robbins’ article,  a number of statements revealed an underlying worldview built on a shaky foundation. But I’ll address here only part of one of the statements:

“For believers, there is no substitute for attending church. Besides something that pleases God, it is necessary for a believer’s spiritual well-being.” All three of these concepts are problematic, but I want to address here the phrase that church attendance is “something that pleases God.” The Christian community desperately needs to understand and internalize the crucial fact that without faith it is IMPOSSIBLE to please God. It is only those works that spring out of FAITH in Jesus Christ that are pleasing to God.

Can a woman who has a sterile relationship with her husband decide that she’s going to produce a baby to please him? She could produce a lifeless doll (“dead faith, dead works”) and pretend that it’s a baby, and maybe everyone around her will even pretend along with her, because they’re all carrying their own lifeless dolls, but the real baby will be produced from the intimate trusting relationship born of mutual love. The loving husband is pleased in that intimate relationship, and then, ultimately, the husband is pleased in the beautiful fruit, a living, breathing human being, that is born out of that intimate relationship.

Though there is work involved in having a baby (just as there is work involved in the Christian life), a woman cannot produce that fruit of the womb in her own strength: that fruit of her life is a gift of God. The fruit of our lives that is well-pleasing to God is the works that are born out of our faith relationship in Jesus Christ, “Christ in you.” Those works, those living works, are a sweet savor in the nostrils of God, because they are produced from the intimate relationship of mutual love.

Critique: Godliness through Discipline by Jay Adams

The critique that I’ve posted here on Amazon is really more of a commentary on Jay Adams’ perspective on sanctification, which I very strongly disagree with. Does Godliness really come through development of habits, as Jay Adams has been teaching since the early 1970s? When you understand the New Testament (and the Old in the light of the New), that’s not at all the picture that you see.

Why is this important? It’s about the victory that Jesus promised being more than theoretical. This carries over into all that we do, every good work we undertake, every relationship  we have. It means the difference between joy and burdens in living the Christ life.

What is repentance, really?

Jesus cried out, “Repent! For the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”

A couple of years ago I posted on Facebook a question about the Greek word translated “repentance.” (It’s metanoia and its variants.) Yes, I admit, it took me a long time to get back to all the links and ideas people sent me, but here I am again, studying repentance.

It’s because three things happened at about the same time. First, I was praying for pastors and other Christian leaders (the ones who have treated and counseled sexual abuse victims as if they were pariahs) to repent about their wrongdoing. Second, I’ve been praying for revival for a long time, and in the context of that, having a discussion with a Christian leader about whether or not repentance is necessary for salvation. Third, I’ve been studying II Corinthians, where Paul talks about repentance in chapter 7.

I always used to hear repentance being taught as a change of mind. That very sterile, academic definition vaguely dissatisfied me. It seemed to accompany the academic, intellectual acceptance of Christ embodied in the “sinner’s prayer.”

But as I’ve been thinking and praying about the concept this past week, I’ve better understood why that definition is a problem. You know the (sexist) saying from our culture, “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind”? In this statement, it’s understood that the change of mind is completely capricious. “I think I’ll buy this frilly pink dress. No, I’m going to return this one and get that slim black one instead.”

Repentance is technically a change of mind from one choice to another, yes. But not capricious, and not between two things of roughly equal value. As my friend Heidi said to me, “It’s like choosing between a Thanksgiving feast and a maggoty carcass. Sure, I guess you make a choice, but once you see what it is, it’s really no choice at all.” Repenting is the change of mind that results in turning from a bad choice to a better choice, not because of caprice or even some logical, intellectual conclusion (“the frilly pink dress made me look fat”), but because you suddenly understand the truth about the two choices. You have come to your senses. Maybe you smack yourself on the forehead. Maybe you start crying. But the fact is that you understand something crucial that you didn’t use to understand.

The concept of “repenting of your sins because you’re headed for hell and you want to go to heaven” doesn’t match with this idea. (For one thing, “repenting of your sins” is nowhere in the Bible.) Really, the options you’re faced with are Self and Christ (because no one is actively choosing the biblical hell). With the eyes of the flesh, Self looks like the obvious choice. The eyes of faith, though, will result in the repentance that gasps, like the Prodigal Son, “What have I been doing? Look at this mess I’ve made of my life! Look at the maggoty carcass that I thought was a feast! Look at the true feast that’s available to me that I’ve been refusing!”

Biblical repentance will probably result in sorrow (or may even be preceded by sorrow, as II Corinthians 7 indicates). But that isn’t intrinsic in the meaning. Intrinsic in the meaning is that you “get” what you didn’t use to get, and so of course you take a different course of action, like the Prodigal Son. This is what the “true faith will result in action” teaching in James is all about.

Are you going to weep and wail that you’ve been picking through a maggoty carcass, and perhaps even thrusting it on others? Maybe, but that will look different for different people. What’s for sure is that you’ll turn from the carcass and toward the feast. You’ll call others to the feast. You’ll call them to come to their senses.

When I pray for repentance from the Christian leaders, I’m actually praying that they’ll come to their senses. When we discuss whether or not repentance is necessary for salvation, it seems to me that we’re actually asking, “Is it necessary to come to your senses in order to be truly saved?”

Maybe it would be better to ask, “Is coming to your senses one aspect of true salvation?” The answer seems as obvious as the choice between a Thanksgiving feast and a maggoty carcass.

Jesus cried out, “Come to your senses! For the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”