A Life Worthy

Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and righteous when you judge (Psalm 51:4).

So, that driver you had the little road rage incident with, you know, the one who obviously saw that you were there but cut you off anyway, the one you chased for three miles so you could give him the evil eye and the fancy finger—the one who turned out to be an octogenarian grandma totally oblivious to your righteous wrath?

Yeah, that was Jesus.

The cop you lied to to get out of that ticket for multiple unsafe lane changes that you made in order to catch up to the aforementioned Granny-Who-Cannot-Drive?

Also, as it happens, Jesus.

The supermarket checker who got written up because her drawer didn’t balance because you kept the money she gave you because she can’t count and gave you seriously inaccurate change?

That would be the Lord of the Universe.

The scores of freakish folk you mocked on the “People of Walmart” page?

Your savior…each and every one.

I’m assuming that you’re not in David’s league here, that adultery and assassination are absent from your repertoire of iniquity.  It doesn’t really matter. Every sin—big or small in your perception—is ultimately committed against Jesus. He said as much in the parable of the sheep and the goats:

Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me….whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me (Matt 25).

Is it really such a stretch to say that whatever we do to the least of these we do to him?

David realized this—eventually.  It got his head straight so that he was ready for real repentance.

Fortunately, Beloved, you have no need for repentance today.  This is merely an academic exercise for you, as your conscience is clear.

Well, you know, except for…

Hmm…

Happy Thursday, Beloved

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.  Wash away my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin (Psalm 51:1-2).

There are two kinds of people in this world:

those who need forgiveness, and…

oh, wait—I guess there’s only one kind of people in this world.

Look, your sin may not be on the epic scale of King David’s—adultery, abuse of power, conspiracy to commit murder—but it’s still sin.

And you still need forgiveness.

And you still don’t deserve it.

David realized this.  He claimed no special privileges as God’s anointed.  He made no appeal based on his previous devotion. He expected no “do-overs” because of the mighty deeds he had done in God’s name.

He asked for mercy, not because of who he was, but because of who God is.

Oh, but Michael, we have something David didn’t have.  We have the Cross.

Yes, we do, Beloved. And we don’t deserve that, either.  The Cross stands as the ultimate evidence of God’s selfless love and great compassion.

Look, I’m not saying you shouldn’t expect forgiveness.  If you belong to Christ, the grace purchased at the Cross is yours for the taking—every day, all the time.  But don’t demand it–not with your words, or with your actions, or with your attitude.

Receive it with joy, a gift from the One who knows you best and loves you anyway.

Happy Tuesday, Beloved.

Not so the wicked!  They are like chaff that the wind blows away.  Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, or sinners in the assembly of the righteous (Psalm 1:4-5).

I forget.

Sometimes I look at the nonbelievers around me, and I envy their “freedom.”

I forget.

I forget their destiny.  I forget that, without Christ, they are like chaff that the wind blows away.  Ever wonder why chaff blows away, while the wheat (that would be you) remains?  It’s because chaff has no substance, no weight. There is nothing solid to it, nothing to keep it from drifting away on the breeze.

So…it does.

What I sometimes think is freedom is just the aimless drifting of an empty soul.

One day they, like we, will stand before the Father.  They will not be clothed in the righteousness of Christ—they will be naked in their sin.  They will not stand firm in the armor of God—they will be crushed under the weight of their own well-earned guilt.  They will not rejoice in the fellowship of the saints—they will be ever, forever alone.

Sometimes I forget.  But when I remember, I praise God for his grace, and I remember never to envy the lost, but ever to pity them, to pray for them, to reason and wrestle and reach for them.

I’m telling you—I’d rather be a tree.

Happy Friday, Beloved.

Blessed is the man who does not walk in the council of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.  (Psalm 1:2).

Do you delight in God’s word?

No guilt here—it’s an honest question.

Frankly, I ask myself the same question.  I mean, I read his word, I study his word, on occasion I even commit his word to memory…but do I delight in it?  Do I meditate on it?

Do I even really know what that looks like?

I know I’d like to.

I know that biblical meditation is different from what they’ll teach you at yoga class—and what are you doing at yoga class, anyway?  They’ll teach you to empty your mind, and allow the void to be filled by narcissism and demons. OK, they probably won’t say it that way, but that’s what it amounts to.  Biblical meditation is about filling your mind with Scripture, sort of letting a particular verse roll around in your head.  You pray that God would illuminate the passage for you, and help you to see what he wants you to see in it.

Let’s experiment today.  Pick a passage of Scripture—it could be this passage, or yesterday’s, or just your favorite verse—and ask God to help you meditate on it.  Ask him to help you delight in it. Let it roll around your head today, and see what he has to show you. 

C’mon, trust me—it’ll be fun.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved.