One All-Important Question, Two Life-Changing Responses

Our lives revolve around questions. Spending thirty minutes with a toddler is enough to remind us of this reality. Questions from the mouths of children are so frequent that rattling off one after another has become stereotypical of our younger counterparts, but, if we’re honest, we have to acknowledge that as we grow older we hardly ease up on the question-formulating.

Maybe we don’t express our questions as frequently as we did when absolutely everything was new and unknown, but certainly we still have questions. How can I get this to work? How long will it take me to do such-and-such? Where is that? Who knew? When was such-and-such invented? Why didn’t so-and-so respond the way I thought they would? What happened? Who should I talk to about this problem? Why did this happen?

But of all the questions that run through our minds on a daily basis, there is one question that is of supreme importance. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it’s the most important question we could ever ask, because its ramifications for our lives are of the most profound nature.

Literally it is a very simple question—just three or four words, and short ones at that. But conceptually it’s loaded—and massively so. Furthermore, it happens to be one that we can find in Scripture. So let’s take a look . . .

Exodus 5 picks up the history of the Israelites at the point when they are on the cusp of deliverance from four hundred years of bondage to the Egyptians. Moses, a Hebrew who was raised by Egyptian royalty and fled the nation after committing murder, has just met with God in the wilderness and has been given the task of returning to Egypt to go before Pharaoh and demand the Israelites’ release.

Accompanied by his brother Aaron, he does just that, as we see in Exodus 5:1 when he says, “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, ‘Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness’” (ESV). Pharaoh’s response to this command is to ask a question—you guessed it—the most important question of all: “Who is the LORD, that I should obey his voice and let Israel go?”

Who is the LORD?

Pharaoh isn’t the only one to ask this question, though. Fast-forward a millennium and a half or so, and we arrive in Luke during Jesus’ time on earth. Jesus, being the human that He was, was taking a snooze in a boat that was transporting Him and His disciples across a lake. Meanwhile, a storm developed with high-speed winds creating fierce waves that began filling the boat. Fearing for their lives, they woke Jesus with exclamations of impending doom. So Jesus, being the God that He was, ordered the wind and waves to settle down, and they did, causing the disciples to say in fear and amazement, “Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?” (Luke 8:22-25, ESV).

Who is this?

In both of these instances, the question was the same, but the responses differ, as do the postures from which the question was asked. See, Pharaoh had already decided the answer to this question in his heart before he voiced it out loud. His tone was akin to that of Goliath’s, who scoffed at David, “Am I dog, that you come at me with sticks?”  (1 Samuel 17:43, ESV). As far as Pharaoh was concerned, God was not someone who had any authority over him—or any right to presume authority over him. Pharaoh had decided that this Yahweh was not worthy of obedience or even of respect. He was not important enough to be considered.

The disciples, however, demonstrated more genuine curiosity and awe in their asking. They recognized that Jesus was someone who had authority over creation itself, and as their story continues to unfold in the gospels, we see them arrive at the conclusion that Jesus is the promised Messiah, the Son of God (see Matthew 16:15-16).  They decided that this Jesus was deserving of worship and worthy of their very lives. 

Now, another millennium later, we are faced with the same question. Who is God? And who is Jesus? God has graciously spelled out the answer to this question in Scripture, but it is up to us to determine whether or not we believe the answer to be true—and to realize how our answers affect our lives.

Do we believe that “He is the King of glory” (Psalm 24:8)? If we do, then we honor Him.

Do we believe that He is, “the Alpha and the Omega […] who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” Revelation 1:8)? If we do, then we worship Him—and if we do, then we can rest in the knowledge that He is in control of all things, always has been, and always will be.

Do we believe that He is the Bread of Life (John 6:35)? If we do, then our souls can be satisfied in Him.

Do we believe that He is “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29)? If we do, then we can trust in Him for salvation and forgiveness.

C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity includes a paragraph that often has been summarized to say that Jesus is either a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. That is to say, He made specific claims about Himself, and either He was dishonest in those claims, He was crazy, or He was right. We are confronted with those claims, and we must decide what we will do with them.

Will we ignore them, living our lives for ourselves and striving in our own strength to make it through each day? Will we discount them, telling ourselves that we answer to no one or that we are here for no other reason than to be happy while we can? Or will we accept them, recognizing that God’s absolute power and holiness means we cannot stand in His presence without some outside intervention, that His perfect justice demands the penalty be paid for our grievances against Him, and that His profound mercy and unending love have provided a way for us to stand in His presence through the perfect life, substitutionary death, and victorious resurrection of the God-man, Jesus Christ?

The question, “Who is Jesus/God?” is so significant because it has both immediate implications for our daily lives and eternal implications for our souls. Our answers determine who and what we live for, what we value most, how we make each decision in our lives, and what our fate will be when we die.

Today, Jesus is essentially asking each one of us, “Who do you say that I am?” (Matt. 16:15). What will your response be?

To read the Arabic translation of this post, click here.

لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا.

Be Slow as Molasses…to Anger

Perhaps you’ve heard the phrase “slow as molasses.” Usually, the expression is used to articulate frustration that something or someone is not moving as quickly as we would like them to. If you’ve never looked into the ironic origin of the phrase, look up the Great Molasses Flood of 1919—fascinating story. But I digress. 

In our fast-paced American culture, being slow moving is not the most admired trait. Even in the Christian life, there are many things we are to be quick to do—to listen, to love, to be kind, to pray—but there are some cases when slowness is desirable, and the one I’d like to focus on today is being angry.

Our culture is so obsessed with “being true to ourselves,” which usually involves expressing our “authentic” feelings, that we often accept anger as a good, healthy response simply because it is our most natural response. But we must be wary of looking to our current cultural context as the standard of health over and against the standard of Scripture. Take a look at Proverbs 19:11.

“Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense” (ESV).

Did you catch that? This verse tells us that being slow to become angry is an indication of having good sense and that it is actually praiseworthy not to react in anger. But wait—there’s more . . .

“Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly” (Prov. 14:29, ESV).

“A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention” (Prov. 15:18, ESV).

“Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city” (Prov. 16:32, ESV).

Yeah, but those are just descriptive verses making observations about the way things are, you might be thinking; they’re not telling me to be slow to anger. True, but James is.

“Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger;” (James 1:19, ESV).

Likewise, God tells us numerous times through Paul to put away anger (see Ephesians 4:31, Colossians 3:8, 1 Timothy 2:8, etc.). Okay, but if someone hurts me, I have a right to be angry. What’s the big deal about being angry when someone does me wrong?  I am so glad you asked.

There are plenty of reasons we should be wary of this vice (not to mention the mere fact that God tells us to put it away from ourselves). For starters, anger is a trap. It might feel good for a moment, and we might feel justified in embracing it, but it has a relentless grip once it takes hold of a soul, and it spawns something perhaps even more devastating: bitterness. These two feed off of each other—and off of us—souring our attitude, tainting our perspective, paralyzing our prayer life, suffocating our spirits, stifling our growth, and destroying our witness. Anger is not to be taken lightly.

The next verse in James gives another reason why we should be slow to anger: “for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God” (James 1:20, ESV). Why do we care about producing the righteousness of God? Because as Christians, we are called to exhibit God’s righteousness in greater and greater degrees as He molds, shapes, and transforms us into the likeness of Christ (aka God). And guess what—God is slow to anger.

The verse that immediately comes to mind referencing this attribute of God is Exodus 34:17, where God is revealing and describing Himself to Moses: “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,” (ESV).

Upon further investigation, though, there are so many more references to God’s being slow to anger. Rather than spell out all of them here, I’ll just list them and let you dig into your own copy of God’s Word. Check out Numbers 14:18, Nehemiah 9:17, Psalm 86:15, Psalm 103:8, Psalm 145:8, Joel 2:13, Jonah 4:2, and Nahum 1:3.

So it’s pretty clear that being slow to anger is a good thing. But what does that look like? 
Well, I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I can tell you from experience that it’s not pretty . . .

Several years ago, the Lord led me through a period of deep emotional pain where anger and bitterness were constantly clambering at the door of my mind and heart. Some days, I gave in, but other days, by the grace of God, the greatest desire of my spirit was to resist. I kept hearing the words of my former pastor Dr. Adrian Rogers that storms and struggles in life will either make you bitter or make you better, and I was determined not to become a bitter young woman. But let me tell you, it. was. hard.

Never before had I experienced such an intense internal struggle or such a strong, almost palpable, awareness of the existence of both my flesh and the Spirit. They were warring against each other, and the battle was fierce. To many observers and companions through this particular storm, I had every reason to be angry. My hurt was incredibly real and the cause of it seemingly unjust.

But God in His abundant patience poured out His grace in my life as He took the chisel to my heart, showing me the magnitude of my own grievances against Him and the utter lack of any right whatsoever that I had to hold a grudge against others, no matter how deep and painful the wounds they inflicted.

My flesh was not a fan of that notion, wanting to cling to a sense of entitlement, curl up in a ball, and lick my wounds, but the Spirit was doing His work, fulfilling God’s promise to guide me into truth, help me in my weakness, and continue the work of shaping me into someone presentable before Himself.

You see, He had called me years earlier, when I became His child, “to put off [my] old self, which belongs to [my] former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires [e.g. those that say that being angry will make me feel better, that justifying my cause will take away the pain, that holding grudges and putting up walls around my heart will keep me safe and make me stronger], and to be renewed in the spirit of [my mind], and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-24, ESV). And now He was bringing that calling to bear in my life—a calling that included being slow to anger.

Full disclosure: Was I angry at periods during that season? Yes. Did I have a right to be, by the world’s standards? Yes. Was my self-focused anger pleasing to God? No. But, praise His name, He gave me the strength to repent and resist the forces that sought to harden my heart. It was messy and exhausting, both spiritually and physically. 

In short, it was far from pretty—but it was beautiful.

Why do I share all of this? Because I’m convinced that anger and bitterness are some of the enemy’s greatest weapons, and I am just as convinced that He who is in us is greater than our enemy and his traps (1 Jn. 4:4). The same Spirit that is in me is the same Spirit that is in every child of God, and if He could help me prevail in the struggle all those years ago, He can help all of His children.

I am living proof that He is strong and faithful, for I know without a shadow of a doubt that His grace is the only way I was able to fight and prevail. Sharing this piece of my story is in no way to say, “Look at me,” but rather to say, “Look to Him!” His grace is sufficient, beloved!

Does all of this mean we should never acknowledge our anger? By no means! Does this mean we should always feel guilty when anger is our response? Not necessarily. But it does mean that anger is something we should not blindly embrace in the name of “being true to ourselves.” It does mean that we should examine our hearts, bare our souls before our Savior, and let Him point out to us when our anger is unrighteous, i.e. when it is self-serving, self-justifying, and self-focused (and no, anger over wrongs done to those we love is not always selfless).

We should fight against its chains with every ounce of our weakness and His abundant strength, because this is the fight we were purchased for. Make no mistake, it will be painful. It will involve relinquishing perceived rights. It will require letting go. But, oh friend, the prize to be gained is worth so much more than whatever you are holding onto. The joy and peace to be found in Jesus is indescribably good. The freedom to be found in handing over those burdens and chains to our resurrected Savior is matchless.

Do not be lulled into the trap of anger.  Do not be afraid of acknowledging your weakness to the One who already knows its depths. Do not hesitate to wrestle in the strength of the Spirit against the forces of evil that seek to disarm you. Trust in the Lord and His strength. Kneel in submission and prayer, and stand up to fight. Be slow to anger and quick to run to Him. Trust me, it is worth it. He is worth it.

He is worth it all.

To read the Arabic translation of this post, click here.

لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا.