Plot Twist

Among the many religions in the world, most of them have one thing in common: the idea that humans are beneath God and must somehow work their way up and into His favor by accumulating good deeds and thoughts. Whether the belief is in one god or many gods, it is generally recognized that he/they are far above us as humans and that we cannot approach him/them without a great deal of effort. Sometimes the belief is that he/they are angry with us and must be appeased if we want things to go well in our lives.

In the Ancient Near East, this effort of appeasement or gaining favor took the form of offerings and sacrifices—sometimes human—of worshiping carved images and of bodily mutilation (see Numbers 25:2, Deuteronomy 12:31, 1 Kings 11:8, and 1 Kings 18:28). Today it can look like praying or repeating specific phrases a certain number of times a day, fasting at prescribed times, giving tribute to statues or images, performing acts of charity, or attending religious services. Many believe that if they simply do enough of these things it will counteract all the bad things they have done so hopefully, when they die, they will find favor instead of punishment.

Unlike those who erroneously believe that they are inherently good, those who recognize the sinfulness of their nature are at least correct about their distance from holiness. But is it true that we must work our way into right standing before God? For many deities worshipped all around the world, this is what is required. And so, for many, who might be reading the Bible for the first time, this is likely what is expected from the God who reveals Himself there.

There are many verses in the Bible where people acknowledged their sinfulness. King David said, “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me” (Psalm 51:3, ESV). The prophet Isaiah declared, “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5, ESV). The apostle Paul called himself the “foremost” of sinners and groaned, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (1 Timothy 1:15; Romans 7:24, ESV). And in the same way, the prophet Micah wrote, “I will bear the indignation of the LORD because I have sinned against him” (Micah 7:9a, ESV).

If we take our cue from other religions, we would expect these thoughts to end with a full stop. We are sinful, unclean, wretched people who bear God’s indignation, period, end of story. And we would expect that any hope we have of remedying our situation is wholly and completely up to us. But when we keep reading, we are met with an unexpected twist, for there is more to what Micah had to say:

“I will bear the indignation of the LORD because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me. He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication” (Micah 7:9, ESV, emphasis added).

Take a moment and read that again. Do you realize how earth-shatteringly unexpected the rest of that verse is? We might expect it to say, “I will bear the indignation of the LORD until I do enough good deeds to make up for my sin” or “I will bear the indignation of the LORD until my family’s prayers appease Him on my behalf” or even “I will bear the indignation of the LORD until he pours out His judgment on me and I perish.” But that’s not what it says. It says, “I will bear the indignation of the LORD […] until he pleads my cause.” God, the perfectly holy and righteous One against whom we have sinned, is the One who steps forward for our defense. He is the One who pleads our cause.

But it doesn’t stop there. It says, “until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me.” There is judgment executed, absolutely. God would not be a just God if He let wrongs go unpunished. But notice the judgment he executes is not on us, it is for us. So, who, then, is His judgment executed on, if not on us who have broken His laws?

His judgment fell on Jesus Christ, on the 2^nd person of the Trinity, on God Himself. As Paul explained, “[B]ut God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life” (Romans 5:8-10, ESV). And, “For our sake he made him [Jesus] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV). And Peter explained, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24, ESV).

When Jesus died on the Cross, He wasn’t just being punished by human authorities for crimes He didn’t commit; He was bearing the full weight of the judgment of God for all the crimes that we had committed and would commit. And He did this “for us,” “for our sake.” So instead of bearing God’s vindication, we “shall look upon his vindication,” as Micah prophesied. Instead of experiencing it ourselves, we observe it. God “will bring [us] out to the light,” instead of leaving us in our darkness, by reconciling us to Himself as Paul wrote and giving us the freedom to “live to righteousness” as Peter said.

Do you realize what a major plot twist that is? No longer do we have to live our lives striving and hoping that somehow we will be able to accumulate enough good deeds that our bad deeds will be outweighed in the end. No longer do we have to live in fear of divine judgment day in and day out. No longer do we have to face death unsure of what kind of reception we’ll receive on the other side. We don’t have to make our own way out of our darkness—truth be told, we couldn’t regardless of how hard we tried.

All we have to do, having recognized that we are not holy and that we sin, is believe that Jesus took our place and bore the judgment that we were due, accept and agree that He is who He says He is—the Son of God, Savior, and Lord—and place our trust in His earned righteousness that He offers to us instead of in our own feeble attempts to make ourselves right with God. He is the only way. And for those of us who repent and believe, He will not execute judgment on us because He has already executed it for us.

This is why, as he is confessing his sin, David can call God, “O God of my salvation” (Psalm 51:14, ESV). This is why Isaiah could hear the words “your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for” (Isaiah 6:7b, ESV). This is why immediately after his groaning, Paul could exclaim, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:25a, ESV). And this is why Micah could marvel, “Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over transgression for the remnant of his inheritance? He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in steadfast love. He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities underfoot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.” (Micah 7:18-19, ESV).

Praise be to God that He is unlike other gods. Praise be to God that He does not leave us to our striving. Praise be to God that He does not hate us for our wrongs against Him but instead loves us enough to take our punishment on Himself so that we might enjoy Him forever. Praise be to God for this most life-giving plot twist of all!

Artwork by Melissa M. Angles Art. 

Used with permission.

Days in a Life

Time is a funny thing. Sometimes it feels as if it rushes by, faster than we can keep up with it, and other times it drags along, feeling slower than molasses. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” so the saying goes. And even so, the opposite is just as true. When we’re bored or waiting, time seems to stand still. Despite the fact that time passes more quickly the older we are (which makes sense when we realize that, as we age, a day is an increasingly smaller percentage of our lived experience), the drudgery of waiting is not exclusive to the young. When we are waiting on an expected event, a day can feel like an eternity, no matter our age.

Life is full of waiting. Whether it’s waiting for something to end or something to begin, waiting to hear from someone or to be able to share good news, waiting to be a certain age or meet a certain person, we all know what it’s like to wait. And the Christian life is no exception. Sometimes (a lot of times) we have to wait on the Lord. He operates according to His perfect timeline established in His perfect wisdom, and that timeline doesn’t always match up with our own. And sometimes while we’re waiting, it can seem like He is absent, or at least silent, and we find ourselves not only waiting for Him to move but also waiting for Him to speak.

In these seasons of waiting on the Lord, we can turn to His Word and be reassured that He has spoken as we contemplate what He has revealed to us there about Himself. But there are other parts of Scripture that are encouraging in a different way, if only we have the eyes to see them.

I don’t know about you, but when I read the Bible, especially the narrative portions, I can easily lose sight of how much time is represented in just a few chapters. We can read the entire story of someone’s life in just a couple hours or even a few minutes, and we can forget that these people actually lived through every single day of their lives, one day at a time.

Take Abraham, for instance. In Genesis 12:3-4, we see that God promises, “I will make of you a great nation,” and that Abraham is seventy-five years old when he steps out in faith, believing this promise, and heads to Canaan. Just four chapters later, he becomes a father to Ishmael, but we see in Genesis 16:16 that he was eighty-six years old at the time. That’s eleven years or over four thousand days, and he still had fourteen more years to wait before the arrival of Isaac. He was one hundred years old when Isaac was born, so he had waited twenty-five years, a quarter of a century, from the time of God’s promise to the arrival of his wife’s son (See Genesis 21:5).

Imagine being told that you would be a father to many nations and then waiting day after day and year after year for even the physical possibility of that promise’s fulfillment to become a reality.

Abraham’s great-grandson, Joseph, had a dream as a teenager that he would rule over his brothers, but through a long series of events, he ended up unjustly imprisoned in Egypt. While in prison, he accurately interpreted the dreams of two men who had served in Pharoah’s household, asking the one who would be restored to his position to put in a good word for him to Pharoah. In Genesis 41:1, we read that it was only “after two whole years” that the man remembered Joseph, leading to Joseph’s release from prison and appointment to the second-highest position in the land, the position from which he would in fact rule over his brothers, as his teenage dream had foretold.

Imagine being stuck in prison for something you didn’t do, having a rare chance to do a favor for someone who was about to be released, asking that person to remember you, and then thinking every day, “Maybe today is the day,” for two whole years before finally being released.

Or consider Hannah. Married to a man who had another wife, Hannah was tormented by this more fertile woman because of her own childlessness. The bullying was so severe that “Hannah wept and would not eat,” and on top of that her husband just didn’t understand, asking, “Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (1 Samuel 1:7-8). We read that this “went on year by year” (1 Samuel 1:7), and though we’re not told exactly how many years she waited for a child, we see that “in due time” she conceived after beseeching the Lord (1 Samuel 1:20).

Imagine longing for a child month after month only to be provoked by your husband’s other wife who had the very thing you wanted, and on top of that to be met with guilt-tripping, unsympathetic questions from your husband as your pain and desire grew year after year after year.

And then there’s Elijah. We first meet Elijah in 1 Kings 17 when the Lord uses him to prophecy to King Ahab that there will be a severe drought in the land. In verse 2, “the word of the LORD came to him,” directing him to stay by the brook Cherith, which he did until the brook dried up from lack of rain. Then in verse 8, “the word of the LORD came to him,” sending him to Zarephath where he was provided for by a widow and her son, and we see in verse 16 that they did not run out of food “according to the word of the LORD that he spoke by Elijah.” Eventually, the son died, and Elijah called out to God, asking him to bring the boy back to life (v. 21). “And the LORD listened to the voice of Elijah. And the life of the child came into him again, and he revived” (v. 22). Chapter 17 ends with the widow telling Elijah, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is truth” (v. 24).

It seems from chapter 17 that Elijah and God had a pretty open and regular line of communication; even the first verse of chapter 18 says, “the word of the LORD came to Elijah.” But before this phrase, there is another phrase that we could easily glance over without a second thought but that changes the dynamics of the story significantly: “After many days.” We’re not sure exactly how many, but between the end of chapter 17 and the beginning of chapter 18, many days passed in which Elijah presumably did not hear the word of the LORD.

Imagine having God speak to you, sending you to inform a king what was going to happen in the future, telling you where to go to survive, answering your request to bring someone back from the dead, and then having Him go silent for day after day before you hear His word again.

So often we read these accounts as if the people involved knew what we know—how the story would play out. But they didn’t. This was their actual life. Each and every one of those “many days” was a full day lived by Elijah. Every “year by year” was a year that Hannah lived and thought and felt. Every day of “two whole years” was a day Joseph lived and breathed and wondered, not knowing if he would ever get out of prison. Every day of twenty-five years was a day that Abraham lived and waited to see a child conceived with his wife be born. Every day they woke up not knowing what the day would bring, and every day they had to depend on God to sustain them as they waited.

If we keep a sense of time as we read through Scripture, we will see how time and again people like Abraham and Joseph and Hannah and Elijah waited on God either to act or speak or fulfill His promise. And in doing so we can be mindful of many things. We can be encouraged by the perseverance and steadfastness of God’s people as they waited on Him. We can learn the dangers of trying to take matters into our own hands when we grow tired of waiting. And above all, we can see God’s faithfulness as He worked, seemingly behind the scenes, to bring about His perfect plan for His people’s lives. And because we know He never changes, we can trust that He is doing the same for us. While we wait, He is active. While we wait, He is with us. And just as the men and women in the Bible waited through seemingly endless days of the unknown and made it through, so can we, depending all the days in our lives on God’s goodness and grace.

PC: Yandle Multimedia Photography. 

Used with permission.

Down to Earth

Have you ever thought about where the phrase “down to earth” came from? We English-speakers use it as an idiom to express the idea that someone is relatable, humble, accessible, not snooty or conceited or aloof. But it hit me the other day that the meaning behind the phrase could have come from the life of Someone who literally came down to Earth and was relatable, humble, and accessible despite having all the right in the universe to stand aloof. You might have an idea of who I’m talking about. But how did I start thinking about this in the first place? Let me back up and tell you a story…

In the last ten months of living in the Middle East, I’ve lost count of the number of times people have expressed amazement or confusion at the fact that my husband and I are living here instead of in America. The locals especially find it hard to fathom that someone from one of the freest countries on earth would leave all that behind and live under occupation, with all the difficulties and inconveniences such a life brings. I usually tell people how God has helped me and prepared me to live here, how life in America is no utopia despite the fact many people think of it as heaven, and how contentment in life doesn’t come from where you live; it comes from having a relationship with Jesus. All of that is very much true. But there’s also another reason I chose to move to my husband’s city in the Middle East: because I love him.

Truth be told, he has been one of the major instruments God has used to prepare me for life here. His patient and tireless explaining of everything foreign, his encouragement as I learn and try new things, his understanding when my brain has reached its limit for the day, his determination to find random items at the grocery store so I can cook a favorite meal—with all of these, he has made the adjustment so much easier.

But there are some things outside of his control. He can’t change the fact that we must be cognizant of how many appliances we have running at one time so the power doesn’t go out. He can’t change the fact that we can’t throw toilet paper in the toilet because the plumbing can’t handle it (although, to be honest, that’s really not that bad once you get used to it). He can’t change the fact that we can’t go visit one of the most famous cities in the world even though it’s less than ten miles from us because I haven’t been issued a permit. He can’t change the fact that we drive by multiple armed soldiers on our way to visit his grandparents. He can’t change the fact that we often have to cancel plans or change travel routes because of the latest round of unrest. He can’t change the fact that the process to travel is exhausting and frustrating and unnecessarily time-consuming and often dehumanizing. And the fact that I have to experience these things that have characterized the majority of his life sometimes weighs heavily on him.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” he will say. But I hold him and tell him the truth: “You’re worth it.” No, living here is not always easy, especially as an American who has freedom and equal protection under the law running in her veins. Sometimes it’s downright infuriating. But getting to be his wife and live alongside him and understand his lifelong experience in a deeper way, even if only partially, is worth all the difficulties. I can face them because of my God-given love for him.

I’ve often heard it said that when you become a parent you start to have a deeper understanding of the way in which God loves you as His child. As Jesus said, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11, ESV). The experience of parenting and unconditionally loving a child gives us a glimpse of the unconditional love that God has for His children.

In the same way, I’ve found that my experience of leaving my relatively comfortable life in America and moving to a place where I have to worry about concrete walls and checkpoints and permits and soldiers, the process of entering into the world of people I love, to live among them as they live and to be considered one of them, has given me a deeper understanding of the sacrifice Jesus made by becoming incarnate. He left the completely perfect realm of Heaven, the only actual utopia, and came literally and figuratively down to Earth to live among us as we live and to be one of us.

A Being who was self-sufficient, He made Himself dependent. A Being who was self-sustaining, He subjected Himself to hunger and thirst. An all-powerful Being who never slumbers or sleeps, He inhabited a body that became tired and sleepy. The Being who designed the human body and created its process of development, He willingly entered a womb and experienced being physically born. A Being who was omnipresent, He experienced the physical limitations of humanity that require travel to be in a different place and prevent being in multiple places at once.

The Word of God made Himself a child who had to learn to speak. The Light of the World entered a world that became dark every evening. The Prince of Peace came to dwell in a land of unrest. The King of Kings became a common carpenter. The Just Judge subjected Himself to a system of injustice. Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6-8, ESV).

Why? Because He loved us. Because the world and all of creation needed to be set right. Because our relationship to Him, to ourselves, to each other, and to nature needed to be healed and restored. He could have left us to our own ruin, but He loved us. He could have given up on us and destroyed us like we deserve, but He loved us. He could have avoided the inconveniences and difficulties of life as a human, but He loved us. He could have escaped the suffering and pain He endured from living and dying in this fallen world, but He loved us.

So He came. Down to Earth. He lived how we lived; He worked how we worked; He felt how we felt; He walked how we walked and traveled how we traveled; He sweat how we sweat and toiled how we toiled; He ate how we ate, drank how we drank, slept how we slept, and cried how we cried; He was “tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15, ESV). And all because He loved us. “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly,” and this was the culmination of the plan to show His and the Father’s love (Romans 5:6, 8 ESV).

What a deep, abiding, perfect love that Jesus Christ has for us. Because of this love, it is possible for us to go from being enemies to children of God (see 1 John 3:1). That the Supreme God of the universe would love us so much that He would willingly identify with us, live among us, and become one of us, even while we were rebelling against Him—what an awe-inspiring thought. That He would care enough about us to understand our struggles and the difficulties of our situation, not only intellectually from being all-knowing but experientially from enduring them Himself—what a mind-blowing realization. What beautiful, wondrous love!

PC: Cheri Moore. Used with permission.

A Heart for Home

The idea of home is one that has captivated humanity for ages and not surprisingly, since a heart that longs for home is a feature of the design God created in us. We’ve reflected this longing by writing songs and stories, developing clichés, creating décor, all dedicated to this idea of belonging, of attachment to a place. The idea is so ingrained in us that one of the first things we typically ask when getting to know someone is, “Where are you from?” which is another way of saying, “Where is your home?”

For those of us who have moved around a lot, that can be a confusing question. Is home where I was born? Is it where I grew up? Is it where I currently live? Is it where my family lives? Is it where my family roots are? Is it the place to which I feel most attached? For many, myself included, those can all be different places. So which one is home? I recently went “home” (to the United States) to visit my “home” (my parents’ house where I used to live) and my other “home” (the town and house where I grew up) before returning “home” to the Middle East where my husband and I currently live.

In the weeks leading up to and during that trip, my thoughts were often turned to the idea of home, and I realized that the answer to all those questions above is “yes.” All of those places are home, because all of those places are part of me, and I was part of them. The saying “Home is where the heart is” is more than just a cliché. It’s reflective of the truth that our home is the place where we make memories and/or where our affection lies and/or where we find belonging. It is possible, then, to have many homes. And because we are finite creatures who are only able to physically be in one place at a time, that multi-home reality means that we are destined for a life of being home while simultaneously missing home.

In some ways, I think I expected that with each passing move my earlier places of residence would lose some of their hold on me, but that has not been the case. The only thing that has changed each time is that I then have more places to miss. It turns out the heart is not some box that only fits so many things inside. It keeps growing to hold all the people and places that one finds dear, and while that is a beautiful thing, in some ways the thought of it can be exhausting. It means that in all likelihood my husband and I will always live in a different country than at least one set of our parents. It means that the longing I have for all my homes will never go away, and I’ll only get more longings for more places the more I move around. It means the longing I have for face-to-face time with all my friends from all those homes will never go away, and I’ll only have more friends to miss the more I leave one home for the next.

To be clear, I’m not complaining. Having many homes and many friends is a blessing beyond measure. To put a spin on Tennyson, ‘tis better to have family and friends far away than never to have had family or friends at all. What I am doing, though, is acknowledging that sometimes being far away from home just plain hurts. But as I was thinking about this perpetual longing the other day, the Lord reminded me that these longings are reflective of a greater longing. They are echoes meant to point me to something else, to another home, the ultimate Home that I have waiting for me thanks to Jesus.

As C. S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” The desire for home is one such unsatiable, otherworldly desire. Even if you’re enjoying being in one home, you’re always missing the others. Even in moments of happiness, there is often still the sense that something or someone is missing. But the prospect of a persistent ache from being absent from loved ones and dear places is not something to be overwhelmed by. Instead, it is a gift, because it reminds me that one day I will be fully Home and missing and longing and aching will be no more. And it’s a gift because in reminding me of these things it points me to Jesus.

While I was home in the States with all these things in the back of my mind, I had one of those moments where I was reading a familiar passage of Scripture only to have the Holy Spirit emphasize verses I hadn’t usually focused on before. The passage was Hebrews 11, and I was struck by the ways the chapter speaks to this idea of leaving home to go to a new home while simultaneously longing for our ultimate home.

In verse 8 we read, “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going” (ESV). Abraham is called by God to leave his home, to leave the place where he grew up, the place where his family lived, and go to a new home. And he goes. “By faith he went to live in the land of promise,” (v. 9). But interestingly it doesn’t say that he made it his new home, even though it’s where he lived out the rest of his life. Verse 9 continues, saying he went to live “as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise.”  Why? “For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (v. 10). God had promised him a new earthly home, yet his eyes weren’t focused on that new home; they were focused on his eternal home.

No doubt, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Jacob wanted to settle down in their new home and have the longing of the promise fulfilled in their lifetimes, but instead, “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland” (vv. 13-14). As these verses point out, if we saw someone neglecting to put down roots in a new place, we might assume that they intended to return home.

But Abraham and Sarah weren’t focused on their former earthly home any more than they were focused on their new one (which, as we’ve seen, wasn’t a lot). “If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return” (v. 15). Instead, their longing for home was pointed elsewhere. “But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city” (v. 16). No doubt, they missed their family and the familiarity of their earlier home; no doubt they would have liked to feel completely settled and at home in their new land, but their desire for their future home, their heavenly home, was greater.

While we may have many earthly homes, the truth is that none of them are truly our home. None of them are where we truly belong. None of them are where our greatest affection lies. None of them are the place where we can most completely be ourselves. None of them are where we were designed and created to live for eternity. So while we absolutely can and should love where we live and have lived and recognize them all as gifts that God has sovereignly used as parts of our story, and while we certainly can feel the pain of missing people and places that comes from being absent from those things that we love, we should also recognize, as Abraham and Sarah and C. S. Lewis did, that our homeland is in another world.  And we can let that truth wash over us with all of its refreshing, hopeful promise whenever the longing for our other homes presses heavily on our hearts.

Because one day all our other homes will pass away and our new home will arrive, “coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband,” and we will know not only intellectually but experientially with every fiber of our being that “‘the dwelling place of God is with man,’” because “‘He will dwell with [us], and [we] will be his people, and God himself will be with [us] as [our] God.’” And “‘He will wipe away every tear from [our] eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true’” (Revelation 21:1-6, ESV).  

PC: Penny Eanes. Used with permission.

P.S. As often happens, when there is a theme of thought during a particular period of my life, references to that theme will pop up from seemingly random places. Several days ago, as the beginnings of this blog post were rolling around in my head, The Foreign Landers (a band I follow made up of a fellow alum of my college and his wife) released a new song partially inspired by the very C.S. Lewis quote I mentioned above. It speaks of the longing that serves as a reflection of our ultimate home. Please take a moment to listen and be encouraged: https://fb.watch/eF_VaLtUMx/ (no Facebook account needed to view). I’d recommend listening twice so you can most fully grasp the meaning of all the lyrics.

Rethinking the Right to Life: 2022 Edition

I honestly never thought I would see the day when the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. O me of little faith. But even though the country of the United States now officially affirms that there is no constitutional right to abort a pregnancy, the population still remains very polarized when it comes to the issue of abortion. Those in favor of abortion ironically see it as an issue of human dignity, despite the fact that it dehumanizes the unborn, while those opposed to abortion often cite the “right to life” as the main reason that abortion is wrong. In light of the Supreme Court’s ruling this past weekend, I thought it would be a good time to reshare an updated version of a post I initially published back in 2019.

Abortion has been in the national limelight more than usual lately [in 2019] with New York’s passage of the Reproductive Health Act, which legalized “abortions after 24 weeks in cases where there is an ‘absence of foetal [sic] viability, or the abortion is necessary to protect the patient’s life or health.’”[1] This legislative action came right on the heels of the annual March for Life and Sanctity of Human Life Day in January and in the midst of other abortion-related legislation being proposed or adjudicated in other states such as Vermont, Virginia, and Iowa.

Heightening the emotional impact of the New York law, is a particularly strong irony that came in the governor’s celebratory act of lighting One World Trade Center in pink. While the new World Trade Center was lit in celebration of the potential for ending unborn lives, the memorial at the old World Trade Center site lists the unborn among those killed in 2001. The contrast is beyond chilling. Also chilling is a contemporaneous video showing a Virginia state representative blank-facedly admitting that her proposed bill would allow abortions to take place even up to the moment of birth. Thankfully, that bill was defeated.

This issue raises incredibly strong feelings on all sides. However, my intent with this post is not to go into the medical arguments against the presuppositions in these laws; others have shared their expertise to show that while delivery might be necessary to save a mother’s life, abortion is not. Neither is my intent to answer the myriad of arguments that self-proclaimed “pro-choice” individuals offer up to rationalize abortion, nor to delve into the scientific and technological advancements that increasingly support the claim that life begins at conception. Instead, my purpose is to share how I have come to rethink what is referred to as the “right to life” and to call us all to expand our view of what we are truly dealing with when we make the case for the protection of the unborn.

Oftentimes in the Right to Life movement, the persuasive arguments center around the unborn themselves: babies (fetuses) are alive, and they have the right to live; extinguishing their lives before they are born robs them of the opportunity to live, to love, and to experience love outside the womb; taking their lives removes their choice for what they want to do with their lives. All of these statements are true, but are they really the fundamental reason why abortion is wrong? In other words, is killing others wrong because they deserve the chance to live and thrive?

Our Declaration of Independence asserts that all of humanity has a right to life. But where does this right come from? Is it a right we give to ourselves? Is it something our Founding Fathers just came up with? As the Declaration acknowledges, the right to life comes from our Creator, i.e. the God of the Bible. There is nothing we bring to the table in and of ourselves that makes us deserving of life. What makes us deserving is not who we are but Who our Creator is. He has made us and, in doing so, has imparted His image to us. That’s what makes us valuable, i.e. worthy of living. So because He is the One who gives us life and who imputes value to us, He is the only One who has the right to take our lives away. Let that sink in for a moment. God is the only One who has the legitimate authority to end a human life.[2]

So when it comes to abortion, while it can be emotionally persuasive to talk about the unborn, to make us feel empathy for their utterly defenseless condition, to horrify us at the callousness it takes to cause a defenseless person pain and then to extinguish their life, I have come to see that these are not the most important reasons we should stand against it.

What is? Just this: to end the life of an unborn human is fundamentally about usurping the power and authority of the almighty God of the universe. And that is a profoundly dangerous thing to do. Look at the consequences of those who tried to become like God—Satan, who incurred eternal damnation, and Adam and Eve, who ensured that they and the entirety of their descendants would be unable to have a relationship with God were it not for God’s intervention through Jesus, are the ones that immediately come to mind. Bottom-line: trying to be like God is not something to mess around with. God is the only all-powerful being and the only all-wise being, so to attempt to assert our own “power” and “wisdom” over His is incredibly foolish. The point, when it comes to abortion, is not so much that the unborn have a right to live as it is that we do not have the right to kill them.

Of course, this is a less palatable point to raise because it heightens the onus placed on those consenting to and performing the abortion. If we’re not careful, making such a point can be interpreted as heaping guilt on an already struggling individual. And in a pro-life culture that has (sometimes justifiably) been accused of doing a less-than-stellar job of showing compassionate care and real tangible and emotional support to mothers and families contemplating abortion, it can be scary to argue for life from this perspective because it increases the risk of coming across as heartless and judgmental.

That is why we must learn how to simultaneously hold onto the appropriately big view of God, including the thoroughly inherent rights He has by nature of Who He is, and to practically demonstrate His love for women who are carrying the lives He has created. We don’t have the right to take a human life, because that right only belongs to God, but we also don’t have the right to devalue those whom He has created in His image, which includes not only the unborn but also the teens and adults connected to them.

Thankfully, many in the Church have already been stepping up to tangibly love and support the unborn, the born, and the mothers of both. Whether through financial giving to pregnancy centers that provide free counseling, ultrasounds, clothing, diapers, etc. to families in need or through personal care for families and children via foster care and adoption, followers of Christ have been demonstrating His compassion to mothers, fathers, babies, and children alike. I personally know at least twenty families who have fostered and/or adopted over forty children (not counting those who have helped raise family members), and many more who have been part of their support network. But there is always more to be done. And in a post-Roe America, the Church has a remarkable opportunity to expand their efforts to actionably demonstrate the love and hope of Christ to women who, for whatever reason, do not want to give birth to their babies.

So as we think about the issue of abortion in the coming days and years, let us consider the greatness of God and our own smallness in comparison. Let us acknowledge that we cannot rightfully end another human’s life, because that right only belongs to Him. He is the one who numbers our days and who allots our time in His perfect design (see Psalm 139:16). Let us not presume to know better than He. And in contemplating His greatness, may we also be overcome by His goodness such that we are filled with compassion for those who are hurting and scared, for those who are conflicted, and for those who are convinced. At the end of our earthly lives, when we stand before God to give an account, may we be able to say, “I stood for preserving your gift of life, and I showed your love to all.”

PC: Rose Creger Tankard. Used with permission.

---

[1] Pierpont, George, BBC News, “New York abortion law: Why are so many people talking about it?” accessed 29 January 2019. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-46994583

[2]  In some cases, e.g. in punishing a human who has killed another human in cold blood, God has delegated this authority, but in the case of the unborn, He has not done so.

On Living for God’s Glory: A Conversation with Kim S. Kinney

I first met Kim Kinney through my church in North Carolina and have been blessed by her kindness, encouragement, hospitality, and wisdom as she reflects those aspects of Christ. Her heart of ministry has enriched the lives of many, and she seeks the glory of God above all else. It is only fitting, then, that her first book, just released last month, is titled Living for His Glory. I had the privilege of reading an advance copy of the book and trust that God will use its message to point people to Himself and to challenge and encourage followers of Jesus to stand firm in their faith and be ever mindful of glorifying God in all they do.

 

Recently, I asked Kim to share about her experience and the story behind Living for His Glory. I’m excited to share our conversation with you.  

 

Olivia: First, can you share a little about your spiritual background?

 

Kim: Born in South Dakota and mostly raised in Wisconsin, I grew up in a family of faith. I was always in church and it became the fabric of my life. I began teaching Sunday School at age 15 for a large and rowdy group of second grade boys that no one wanted. They even locked me out of the classroom on the first day! But I ended up loving it. Somehow, perhaps because of my own youth at the time, we connected. And they responded in a positive way. I taught many different ages over the years, but especially thrived with the high school and college classes.

 

In my 40’s, I started and ran an online ministry for years called The Edge. Targeting young adults and professionals roughly ages 18-25, its mission was to keep these young people grounded in their faith despite what professors taught them and influences they encountered during these impressionable years. It quickly grew to include young people in 8 countries. It was during these years that the Lord birthed in me the desire and ability to write.

 

I have been in Bible studies for decades and started to lead Bible studies for women’s ministries after my mom died in 2010. I loved it, but my teaching ministry came to a screeching halt with the onset of Covid. It was during this time—when my calendar was miraculously cleared—that the Lord impressed upon me His desire that I write books. And so my writing journey began.

 

Olivia: What prompted you to write a book, and what led you to focus on the topic of God’s glory?

 

Kim: Fifteen years ago or so, a friend asked me, “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” I immediately knew my answer, “I would write a book.” It was not feasibly possible at that time. But years later, God made a way. God often speaks to me in the wee hours of the morning, and He clearly told me I was to write about His glory and it would be a three part series called The Glory Series. He even gave me the titles of each book. Writing came easily and words often spilled across the canvas of my paper faster than I could type or think. God often awakened me in the middle of the night and brought clarity of thought; many times, I couldn’t keep up with my fingers as they flew across the keyboard. And remarkably, when I later returned to proofread and edit my writing, I found I couldn’t remember what I had written. I am certain the Holy Spirit guided my writing.

 

Olivia: How does being a Christian inform the way you view the act of writing?

 

Kim: Being a Christian undergirds everything I do. It’s like the foundation of a home. No matter what room you’re in, you function on top of the foundation that holds it all together. My faith in Jesus Christ undergirds and impacts everything I do, including my writing. It is interwoven throughout every aspect of my writing and colors my perspective of every topic. There is nowhere I can go outside of His presence and influence, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. My Christian worldview acts as a filter through which I see the world and process everything I see, experience, and put to paper.

 

Olivia: What is your hope for those who read Living for His Glory? 

Kim: My hope and prayer are threefold:
-that it will guide many to faith.
-that it will ignite a passion for many to reconnect with their faith and begin to take it seriously, realizing that time is short and God has a very real purpose for their lives that they can no longer ignore.
-that it will strengthen and encourage the seasoned Christian to focus on the eternal and explore what it means to live in victory for the resplendent glory of God as the greatest priority of their lives.

Let’s face it; life is just plain hard many days. We all struggle; no one is immune. That’s because we live in a world controlled by the evil one. Navigating through life can be daunting. But when we realize that we are created to live in a way that glorifies God, no matter what our life looks like, it changes absolutely everything!

 

Whether we are in a normal season of living life or a challenging season of chaos and suffering, God is ever present and has a purpose through the mundane as well as the extraordinary which impacts everything we do.

 

When we submit to the will of God and live a life intertwined with His, trusting in His purposes and provision, our lives take on divine and eternal significance. We don’t worry like the world does. Everything we do holds spiritual significance and showcases His glory as He transforms us in a multitude of ways for our good and His splendor. None of our suffering or challenges are wasted. Everything we do holds spiritual significance and reverberates for eternity. And He rewards us with His peace and greatest blessings as we walk in glorious victory too magnificent for words. The last thing we want is to simply drift through the daily motions of life, only to realize one day that we wasted it all.

 

We simply cannot get this wrong! Living for the glory of God is our greatest privilege.

 

I hope you have enjoyed hearing from Kim and have been reminded of the goodness of God in giving us the privilege of glorifying Him with our lives. If you’d like to read her book, you can find it on Amazon. You can also follow Kim’s author page on Facebook and Instagram @kimskinneyauthor and visit her website here.

 

Prosperity in Context: A Closer Look at Jeremiah 29:11

So far in the Verses in Context miniseries, we’ve taken a look at three verses from the New Testament (Philippians 4:13, Romans 8:28, and 2 Timothy1:7). Today, we’re turning to the Old Testament to examine another verse that is frequently claimed as a “life verse,” printed on journals, or hung on walls in isolation with no regard to the context in which it was written. Probably the most well-known translation for this verse is the New International Version, which reads:

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Jeremiah 29:11

Many people have leaned on this verse for comfort and encouragement that God has a plan for their lives, and not just any plan, but a plan that will bring them general prosperity and safety. But is that what this verse is saying? Who is the “you” to whom God is speaking?

When we look at this verse in its context, we see that it is actually part of a letter written by the prophet Jeremiah to a specific group of people at a specific point in time. By Jeremiah 29, the Babylonians have invaded the kingdom of Judah (made up of the two southern tribes of Israel), captured the people, and taken many of them to Babylon, leaving only the poorest in the land. The first verse of the chapter tells us who the audience of this letter is:

“These are the words of the letter that Jeremiah the prophet sent from Jerusalem to the surviving elders of the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar [the Babylonian king] had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon” Jeremiah 29:1 (ESV).

So basically, everyone who had been exiled was the intended recipient of Jeremiah’s letter. Verse 2 tells us when the letter was sent, and verse 3 tells us by whom it was sent. The letter begins in verse 4: “‘Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:’” (ESV) Notice that God is the one who has sent the people into exile. Even though the Babylonians were the ones who invaded, this verse tells us that they did so at God’s allowance. God used them to punish the southern Israelites for their disobedience, as He had warned again and again that He would do.

In verses 5-7, God, speaking through Jeremiah, tells the people to put down roots in Babylon—to build houses, start families, “seek the welfare of the city,” (ESV) and pray for it. Apparently, the people had been hesitant to do this because they had been listening to false prophets (as described in verses 8-9) who made them think they wouldn’t be in Babylon for very long. In the preceding chapter, Jeremiah 28, we see that one of these false prophets, Hananiah, told the people that God would destroy Babylon within two years and the people would be free from their exile. God made it clear, though, that Hananiah was not speaking on His behalf, both through the words of Jeremiah and through Hananiah’s death (see Jeremiah 28:12-17).

So after God warns the people to stop listening to these false prophets in verses 8-9, He tells them the true length of their exile in verse 10—they would be in Babylon for seven decades: “‘For thus says the LORD: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place’” (ESV). And this is when we get to verse 11, which you may have noticed starts with our connecting-word friend “for”: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the LORD, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the LORD, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile” (vv.11-14, ESV).

God was essentially telling the people, “These ‘prophets’ think they know what my plans are, but they’re lying. I know what my plans are for you. You will be in exile for much longer than they’re telling you, but you won’t be in exile forever. I have promised to bring you home, and I keep my promises. My justice is not without mercy. When the time of your consequences is completed, I will bring you home, and when you truly seek me with your whole heart, you will find me, and I will bring you back.”

So that is the context of Jeremiah 29:11. The prosperity/welfare that God was promising was that of delivering the people from the poverty of exile and returning them to their homes. The absence of harm/evil was a promise that they would not be captives forever; God had not abandoned them to their enemies. The future and the hope that was in store for them was that of restoration of their land and of restoration of their relationship with God. And we see in other parts of the Bible (Ezra 1:1, etc.) that God fulfilled that promise. The Babylonian Empire fell to the Medo-Persian one, and, as the Persians had a different policy of dealing with captives and occupied lands than the Babylonians did, they eventually sent the Jewish people home (70 years after they had been taken to Babylon, just as God had said).

But does it follow, then, that there is nothing in this verse that is applicable for us today? Just because this verse has a specific meaning for a specific people at a specific point in history and the promises it made were fulfilled, does that mean we can’t claim its promises now for our lives? Does God not know the plans He has for us in the 21^st-century? Has He not given us “a future and a hope” too?

For those of us who have turned from our sin, trusted in Jesus and what He did on our behalf, and thus become adopted children of God, we are His people. Just as the ancient Israelites were chosen by God as a picture of what it meant to be God’s people and were given promises as part of that special relationship, so too, followers of Jesus, i.e. “the Israel of God” (see Galatians 6:16), those who are “a people for his own possession,” who “were not a people, but now […] are God’s people” (see 1 Peter 2:9-10), have been given promises as well.

Throughout the New Testament there are many references to the plans God has for us, to the future and the hope that we have in Him. In Philippians 1:6, we see that God will finish “the good work He began” in us (think that sounds like He has a plan for us?). In John 14, Jesus tells His disciples (including His future ones), that He is preparing a place for us and will come back to take us to that place to be with Him (see the echoes of Jeremiah 29:10-14? “I will bring you back to the place”). As we saw in Romans 8:28, followers of Jesus have the promise that even suffering and hardship are redeemed by God and used for our good (remind of you Jeremiah 29:11? “plans for welfare and not for evil”). Colossians 1:5 speaks of the “hope laid up for [us] in heaven” (see the future and the hope there?).

And Ephesians 1:3-14 speaks to all of these things:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

“In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory” (ESV, emphasis added).

Do you see how much that passage speaks to the plans of God, to the prosperity/welfare that is ours both now (spiritual blessings) and in the future (an inheritance), to the lack of harm/evil in store for us because of the gracious redemption and forgiveness God offers, to the hope that we have in Jesus and the future that is stored up for us, as guaranteed by the Holy Spirit?

So if we as Christians want to claim, ponder, or cling to verses that remind us that God has a good plan for our lives, we have a wealth of ones to choose from without needing to use Jeremiah 29:11 outside its context. But that doesn’t mean Jeremiah 29:11 is left with no encouragement for us. The way in which God dealt with the ancient Israelites shows us His character—both His justice and His mercy, His sovereignty and His love, His wisdom and His kindness. Just as the Israelites’ rebellion was not strong enough to overpower the love of God or to keep Him from fulfilling His promises, so too His love for us overcame our rebellion, and His promises to those in Christ stand secure. Just as He kindly and graciously returned them to their home, He will one day kindly and graciously bring us to our ultimate home. Just as their relationship with Him was restored, so we can enjoy a restored relationship with Him because of Jesus.

Jeremiah 29:11, as it fits in the context of the history of the Israelites, reminds us that God is a loving, merciful God who never changes and who does what He says He will do—God, who is the same One to whom we belong. And that, my friends, is something worth holding onto.

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

.لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا

PC: Teresa Cantrell. Used with permission.