I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings… (Philippians 3:10)

Jesus went to the cross.

You probably won’t have to do that.

Jesus became sin, bearing the punishment of all evil through all of time.

Not your job

Jesus lived in a world that didn’t understand him, where he did not belong.  He was mocked and abused for obeying the Father.  He was abandoned and betrayed by those who had sworn to love and stand beside him.

Closer, but…

Frankly, I know very little about sharing in Christ’s sufferings.  Up to this point, my walk with God has been relatively smooth, and my pain has been confined to the internal struggle-with-sin-and-try-to-live-for-God-while-living-in-a-broken-world variety.  I have not suffered for my Lord; I have certainly not suffered like my Lord.

I’m not sure I can say that I want to.  

Sorry…did that disappoint you?

I mean, I want to be a man of God, but the cost…is…sobering.  If the day comes that I’m called upon to share in His sufferings, I hope I’m up to the task.

That’s not to say I don’t know a little bit about the fellowship of suffering.  I have shared tears and pain and death and heartache and loss and I hate it.  I hate death.  I hate pain.  I hate loss.  I hate the powerless feeling that comes with sitting at the bedside of a friend and watching him struggle with the knowledge that his body doesn’t work right and might never work right again.  I hate asking how he’s feeling after having his veins scorched with chemo and his cells fried with radiation.

And yet (Thank God, there’s an “And yet”)

And yet…I was closer to my friend than I was in those last weeks.  I never saw him stronger, or more vulnerable, or more real.

I never saw him reflect Christ more clearly than he did in that time of suffering.

In a very tiny way, I shared in those sufferings, and I am better for it.

What about you, Beloved?  Have you known the fellowship of suffering? If you haven’t, you will.  I’m sorry for you.

And glad.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved

I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection… (Philippians 3:10).

I wish I had some beautiful, powerful, poetic image for you this morning, but what I keep thinking of is…

He-Man, and the Masters of the Universe.

I…have…power!!!

So, for those of you who were not watching kid’s cartoons in the mid-80’s, He-Man was a burly boy named Prince Adam who would hold aloft his mighty sword, give his “I have power” cry, and suck down lightning from the sky. Said lightning would transform him from mild-mannered Adam into the mightiest of heroes.

Seriously…his name was Adam.

And he was transformed by power from on high.

And he defeated Skeletor, who is pretty much a death symbol, and who consorts with demonic henchmen, one of whom is a snake-guy.

I can’t believe I never saw this before…I’m gonna have to Google it.

If you want to stop following this blog now, I’ll understand.

Anyway, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that the resurrection is the most powerful event in history.

More powerful than Creation?

Yep.

The Crucifixion?

I think so.

More powerful than Kirk Gibson’s pinch-hit home run in the 1988 World Series?

Oh, yes…even that.

When he rose from the grave, Jesus, in one fell swoop, ended the captivity of…well…everyone.  Death, the great enemy of all mankind, was crushed under the heel of the Son of God.

That’s power, my friend.

Beloved, do you understand that, right here, right now, smack in the middle of a Tuesday, you have that same power at work in you?

The power that broke Death in the world is breaking Death in your heart.

Don’t ask me how.  I have almost as much trouble with how as I do with why.

But I’m pretty good with is.

And it is, Beloved.

Happy Tuesday

I want to know Christ…(Philippians 3:10)

As my Lord

As my savior

As my friend

As my brother

As my master

As my hero

As my leader

As my confidant

As my creator

As my helper

As my shelter

As my rock

As my hope

As my heart

This could take a while.

Seriously

This could take forever.

Because he’s a person, you know.  

Not an idea

a philosophy

a religion

an icon

a subject 

a set of writings to study and memorize.

He’s a person, like you and me.

OK…not like you and me…but he is a person.

And like any person, he wants to know and be known.

To love and be loved.

He wants relationship.

With you

I know, that sounds crazy.  But make no mistake, he does.

Because you are his Beloved.

Happy Monday, Beloved

…that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ–the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith  (Philippians 3:9).

Because my righteousness…isn’t.

Oh, it might look like kinda like righteousness–occasionally, a little, if you squint–but I’m not really fooling anyone.

Neither are you, Beloved.

But the righteousness that comes by faith, the one that the Father sacrificed his son to obtain for you, the one that Christ bled and died and suffered the horrors of the cross to share with you, the one the Holy Spirit lives and works in and through you to teach you to wear–

that one’s the real deal.

And it is now yours.

So wear it proudly, and in great humility.

Wield it with great strength and brokenness.

Rejoice over it with great joy and weeping.

Accept it as the free gift that cost everything.

Happy Friday, Beloved.

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him… (Philippians 3:8-9).

To be found in him…

I’m not entirely sure what that means.

In Colossians, Paul says that our lives are now hidden with Christ in God.  Here he says that we may be found in Christ.  How does that work?  Is Paul simply being poetic, when he really means that we will be with him?

Maybe…but I doubt it.

We often say that Christ is in us, that we have “asked Jesus into our hearts.”  And yet we are also in him.  Frankly, that’s more than this little brain of mine can manage.  Perhaps you can explain it to me, Beloved.

I think I will spend the rest of my life wondering what that line means.

And the rest of eternity finding out.

Happy Thursday, Beloved

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ…   (Philippians 3:8)

Today is trash day.

Figuratively speaking. Literal trash day was a few days ago, but I hadn’t reached this verse then. Just go with it, please.

I took the cans to the curb, and as I did I thought about how great it would be if I could take all the stuff that I think is important–but is really rubbish–and throw it out.  Just take the pride and the doubt and the fear and…well…the Michael–and toss it in the can next to the used paper towels and the banana peels and the shredded shoes and say goodbye to it.

Then I realized…I’d need a bigger can

and a bigger truck

and a bigger landfill.

Oy

Happy Wednesday, Beloved.

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.  What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things (Philippians 3:7-8).

Such beautiful words.

I can read them, recite them–hey, put them to music and I will gladly sing them.

But…can I mean them?  Because reputation, power, the praise of men–it’s pretty heady stuff.  Can I mean those words, down to the core of my being?

Can you, Beloved?

Something tells me that, in the day that we speak those words without a breath of hesitation, we will find some serious peace.

Perhaps today?

I’ll pray for you, Beloved.  You pray for me.

Happy Tuesday

If anyone else thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless (Philippians 3:4-6).

What does your resume look like?

Your spiritual resume, I mean.  Were you born to the right parents? Did you study at the right schools?  Go on the right mission/vacation trips?  Lift your hands at the right concerts?  Do you attend the right church, where you serve in the right departments and dress the right way and talk to the right people about the right subjects? Do you give the right amount of money to the right places and vote for the right people and march in the right causes?

Do you write a blog that features daily devotions?

Ouch

Look, I’m not saying those things aren’t good, even godly, even glorifying to the Lord.  I am saying that we’d better not count on them.  The moment we start looking at our deeds as anything other than the natural overflow of Christ in our lives, the moment we actually start to think that we did something all by ourselves that was awesome and impressive and godly…

You know the line about filthy rags, right?

So check your resume this morning, Beloved.  Because, in reality, there’s only one item that should be on it.

And you know what that is.

Happy Monday, Beloved. 

It is no trouble for me to write the same things to you again, and it is a safeguard for you (Philippians 3:1).

I almost skipped over this line, as I often skim past it when I am reading this passage. It just seems like filler, a transition to get us into the next section of the letter. Then I realized something.

This line is gold.

This line is at the very heart of wisdom.

As a teacher, I know that students need to hear something multiple times before it sinks in.  They can read it, hear it from me, discuss it with a partner, watch it in a video, and still be completely clueless on tomorrow’s quiz.  A standard teacher mantra is It never hurts ‘em to hear it again.  In this respect, you and I are no different from the twelve-year-olds in my classroom.

We need to read it again

Hear it again

See it again

Experience it again

Pray it again

before it really sinks in.  

So, as you move through your day, don’t shy away from the lessons you think you’ve already learned.  That leads to pride, and we know where that road takes us. Instead, embrace the wisdom like the friend that it is.

It never hurts us to hear it again.

Happy Thursday, Beloved.