Come to the Light

"He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. ¹⁹ And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. ²⁰ For everyone practicing evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed."

John 3:18-20

At Teen Camp this week I used an illustration of what it means to "come to the light."  I told the kids to imagine we had a party at an abandoned home with music pumping, people were drinking, dancing, and increasingly rowdy.  People at the party started vandalising the house by smashing bottles, breaking furniture, and punching holes in walls.

Suddenly a guy runs into the party, shuts down the music, and informs us of approaching police cars.  The lights are quickly turned off and a hush falls over the crowd.  The tyres of the cars crunch gravel, brakes squeak, and the baying of dogs ring out.  The faint sound of a chopper can be heard in the distance.  A beam of light pierces the darkness and is fixed upon the front entrance, and the voice of a constable is heard over a speaker.  "OK kids, we know you're in there.  If you come out the front now, no harm will come to you.  You have 10 seconds until we send in the dogs."

In this situation, what would you do?  If you've ever watched an episode of COPS, you know one tactic is to trust your own legs, to climb out the back door and attempt to futilely run from the "eye in the sky" with heat-sensing cameras.  After inevitably being caught the arrested would face additional charges.  Some might choose to barricade the door and arm themselves with whatever they could find.  Others might try to climb into a dark spot like an attic, a closet, or under the floorboards to escape.  But what of the dogs?  And the additional squad cars and firepower?  In this situation, the best possible outcome is to demonstrate faith in the safety promised by the constable, walk towards the snarling dogs and drawn firearms, and come into the light with empty, raised hands.

This scene is an illustration of what God requires of sinners.  We are condemned already, our lives forfeit because of sin.  God has made a way of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ:  if we confess our sins, repent, and ask God for forgiveness and salvation, He will justify us.  All our sins will be forgiven and our guilt washed away.  But if we try to hide our sin, blame others, claim ignorance, or try to escape by running we will be bound and cast into outer darkness and eternal torment.  Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  No one can be forgiven or see the kingdom of God without Him.

The question remains:  will you hate the light and choose darkness or come into the Light of Life in full surrender?

Good Will on a Plate

I have the privilege of being the speaker at Camp Kedron this week, a Christian camp which has shared the Gospel with young people for over 50 years.  Holiday camps attract youth from diverse backgrounds and beliefs and it is a joy to share the truth of God’s Word with them, to answer questions, and tackle issues which confront people today.  Centred on Jesus Christ and the Gospel, leaders from various Christian denominations and groups unite as one to demonstrate the love and grace of God.

I was admiring the artistic skills of campers who chose the ceramic elective today, and I came across a plate with a message and scripture reference.

As a student of scripture (hopefully not one who could be described as ever learning but never coming to the truth) I was instantly curious what passage in scripture could possibly support the idea presented.  Love and judgment are never placed in opposition to one another in the Bible, as if righteous judgment cannot spring from love.  I was glad to see this plate because it instructed me in some people’s minds love and judgment are opposites.  I mean no offence when I say this is a classic example of cliché Christianity which ignorantly hijacks scripture disjointed from the biblical revelation of God.  It is a perspective which elevates a worldly concept of love to the status of God.

Before we examine the passage cited, a little more on the catch-phrase.  The Bible reveals God is love (1 John 4:16), and His active love is far more than unconditional acceptance.  It is a sacrificial love expressed for the good of others according to His grace and goodness.  It is the love demonstrated by Jesus when He healed the sick, fed the hungry, raised the dead, and laid down His own life on Calvary for undeserving sinners.  At the same time, God is a righteous judge:  Abraham called Him the “Judge of all the earth” in Genesis 18:25.  This establishes how love and judging can coexist, just like a good judge can love people and uphold law at the same time.  The Bible teaches a father who loves his son will discipline him, and there can be no discipline without judgment:  a weighing of God’s standard of righteousness against words, deeds, and motives by the leading of the Holy Spirit.  Judgment was required for King Solomon to decide who was the real mother of the child brought before him, and the desire to unite a mother with son is a loving judgment.

Some might say, “It is all very well for God and kings to make judgments, but surely this is above the pay grade of the common Christian” (or anyone really).  Perhaps there is no word more despised than when a person feels “judged.”  Doesn’t the word provoke a universally negative sense?  Judging by itself is a neutral word but to many appears a cardinal sin in itself, that to judge—to decide or examine—should be struck from the responsibilities of a Christian.  People are fond of quoting snippets of scripture but do not consider the context.  They’ll say something like, “Doesn’t the Bible say we aren’t supposed to judge?”  Consider the words of Jesus in Matthew 7:1-2:  “Judge not, that you be not judged. 2 For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.”  Far from a prohibition of judging, we are called to examine—to judge—how we judge others knowing the stricter we are with them the more severe our loving Judge and Father will be with us.  Jesus said in John 7:24, “Do not judge according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment."  We are commanded by Jesus to examine and judge ourselves according to God’s righteousness.  God gave Moses the Law and equipped him to judge his people righteously, and Jesus has given the Holy Spirit to guide us into all truth.

The verse quoted on the plate is the passage where a woman was brought before Jesus who had been caught in the act of adultery.  The text reveals the Jewish rulers cared nothing about the woman (or the man who was strangely absent from the proceedings) and upholding justice:  their motive in bringing the woman before Jesus was in the hope of finding fault with Him.  Jesus, knowing their plot find fault and hypocrisy, ignored them.  John 8:7-11 reads, “So when they continued asking Him, He raised Himself up and said to them, "He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first." 8 And again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. 9 Then those who heard it, being convicted by their conscience, went out one by one, beginning with the oldest even to the last. And Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. 10 When Jesus had raised Himself up and saw no one but the woman, He said to her, "Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?" 11 She said, "No one, Lord." And Jesus said to her, "Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more."

So what does this have to do with, “Love, don’t judge?”  Though the immediate text does not mention love, it is well-established in the Bible Jesus Christ, being God made flesh, is love—even when the words He said and things He did don’t seem loving to us.  But love did not change the fact the woman had sinned; love did not rub out the 7th Commandment written on tablets of stone on Mt. Sinai or the just punishment for sin.  God had already given a judgment on the sin of adultery, but what Jesus did not do is condemn the woman.  Judgment and condemning are two very different things.  To judge is to weigh and examine sides, and to condemn is to damn, a final, binding sentence or judgment.  The woman was by Law condemned for her sin and under a curse which would bring death, yet notice she called Jesus “Lord.”  Faith in Christ freed her from the condemnation her sin deserved.  It is condemnation—not judgment—which is God’s sovereign territory.  Those who were once under condemnation can be set free by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus, justice having been satisfied.

We are called to use righteous judgment, yet this does not give us license to what could be called judgmental—to judge others by our self-righteous standards.  This was one sin of the Pharisees Jesus called out, the hypocrisy of claiming to uphold God’s righteousness when they gave greater weight to enforcing traditions of men.  This plate reminds me of something Paul wrote in Philippians 1:15-18.  I am very glad the plate was made as it is, for it moved me to go to the Word and these considerations have sharpened me on the subject.  Paul wrote, “Some indeed preach Christ even from envy and strife, and some also from good will:  16 The former preach Christ from selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my chains; 17 but the latter out of love, knowing that I am appointed for the defence of the gospel. 18 What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is preached; and in this I rejoice, yes, and will rejoice.”  If you could write a message on a plate about anything, would it be about love and a scripture like this skilled artist?  I can say it wouldn’t have been my first idea.  It is good will on a plate, an exhortation to love, and a platform to dive into God’s Word so we can be washed clean of misunderstandings.

Rats in the Cellar

I have been reading through Mere Christianity, a classic penned by C.S. Lewis.  It is really a terrific resource which deals with a lot of complex aspects of Christianity which he explains exceptionally well.  As an intellectual who once was an atheist, his insights are the product of wisdom from being born again and part of his own personal journey in knowing God.

One consequence of  coming to faith in Christ is a more sharpened sense of our own sinfulness.  Maturity in faith brings a greater sense of our need for Christ to transform us from within.  C.S. Lewis wrote:

When I come to evening prayers and try to reckon up the sins of the day, nine times out of ten the most obvious one is some sin against charity; I have sulked or snapped or sneered or snubbed or stormed.  And the excuse that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected; I was caught off my guard, I had not time to collect myself.  Now that may be an extenuating circumstance as regards to those particular acts:  they would obviously be worse if they had been deliberate and premeditated.  On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of man he is?  Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth?  If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly.  But the suddenness does not create the rats:  It only prevents them from hiding.  In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man; it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am.  The rats are always there in the cellar, but if you go in shouting and noisily they will have taken cover before you switch on the light.  Apparently the rats of resentment and vindictiveness are always there in the cellar of my soul.  Now that cellar is out of reach of my conscious will.  I can to some extent control my acts:  I have no direct control over my temperament.  And if (as I said before) what we are matters even more than what we do--if, indeed, what we do matters chiefly as evidence of what we are--then it follows that the change which I most need to undergo is a change that my own direct, voluntary efforts cannot bring about.  And this applies to my good actions too.  How many of them were done for the right motive?  How many for fear of public opinion, or a desire to show off?  How many form a sort of obstinacy or sense of superiority which, in different circumstances, might equally have led to some very bad act?  But I cannot, by direct moral effort, give myself new motives.  After the first few steps in the Christian life we realise that everything which really needs to be done in our souls can be done only by God.  (Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity & the Screwtape Letters: Complete in One Volume. HarperSanFrancisco, 2003.)

I believe God allows us to be put off guard--not because it is a test we must pass or so God can know the conditions of our hearts--but so we will see the rats scrambling for cover in the cellar of our souls.  If we saw rats or evidence of rats because of damage or defecation in the pantry where we store our food, we would take prompt action to eradicate the pests.  We ought to do the same when our sinful reactions come to light.  Shrugging them off emboldens the pests to remain, to breed, to further corrupt the good God has wrought within us by grace.  On our own we could never eradicate or cleanse ourselves from sin, but through faith in Jesus Christ these victories are accomplished.

No Holidays!

Part of the culture shock for me in immigrating to Australia has been adjusting to the amount of annual leave people receive.  The base amount for full-time employees is 4 weeks paid--with 10 sick days a year and something called "long-service leave" which is two additional months off.  If you happened to be sick in the same year long-service leave was taken, this would be almost 4 months off work paid.

Whilst some people's eyes light up at the possibility of that much time off work, something inside of me shudders at the prospect.  Holidays, in my mind, have the connotation "going to work" has for others.  Now I have been blessed and benefited greatly by holiday experiences I have enjoyed with family, but they aren't something I pine for.  Holidays are not a dangling carrot which help me push through the daily grind.  I am satisfied and pleased with my daily work routine, and I love what I do.  Why would I want to create extra hassle and expense to find folks to cover for me?  What is special for me these days is a night in, not out.

People spend time thinking about what a perfect holiday would involve, where they would go or what they would see or do.  Do you know what my idea of the perfect day is?  It would be a day when no one takes a holiday from going to church.  What is the sense in taking holidays from fellowship with heaven?  I'm not talking about those who do not fear God or those who only go out of guilt when asked:  I'm talking about everyone who claims 1) to be a Christian and 2) has a church they call home actually going there for worship and the teaching of the Word all on the same day.  That is my idea of bliss.

Can you imagine it?  It would be like a family reunion with the worship and praise of God at the centre.  The fellowship would be sweet as we gather in unity in the fear of God and love of Jesus Christ.  I know people would look around at others and say, "How wonderful this is!  We should do this more often!"  We can enjoy fellowship in Christ often, and we should.  But alas, this level of unity seems strangely elusive.  Unity is not going to the same building at a particular hour, but in daily following the Saviour who leads us to contribute to church fellowship and the lives of people week after week.  No church is perfect but we have an awesome God; no pastor is without faults but we follow the Good Shepherd Jesus Christ who leads us into green pastures and beside still waters.

For me one day to join believers who gather to seek the LORD is worth a month of holidays spent elsewhere.  I would rather open the door to a brother or sister at church than hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside of my hotel door.  King David wrote in Psalm 84:8-12, "O LORD God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! Selah ⁹ O God, behold our shield, and look upon the face of Your anointed. ¹⁰ For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. ¹¹ For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD will give grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly. ¹² O LORD of hosts, blessed is the man who trusts in You!"  Amen!