“And He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury, and He saw also a certain poor widow putting in two mites. So He said, “Truly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all: for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God, but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had.” (Luke 21:1–4)
Appearances are not as they often seem. It looks as though the wealthy are putting in much more than anyone else, but Jesus sees through all of that and says the widow is actually giving more than they are. At first glance, this looks as if Jesus is simply saying percentage giving is what really reveals the heart. And there is something to that, of course. Jesus also said, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” which among other things means that what you spend your money on reveals a lot about where your heart is.
But there is more to be seen here. Jesus reveals here a woman who has “made herself poor, yet has great riches.” (Proverbs 31:7)
When I say she has made herself poor, I do not mean that she is responsible for her great misfortune of being immersed in poverty. Rather, I mean that she is facing the trouble that has come upon her by denying herself, dying to herself, refusing to seek to “save her life.” I mean that, rather than attempting to hold on to what she has, using her poverty as her excuse for doing so, she gives her life away. And as a result, she finds life—and riches—the riches no one can take away from her.
This woman, observed by Christ only days before His own great sacrifice on the cross, is not struggling with appearances. She is not fooled by her great poverty, her circumstances, her trouble, her misfortune. To the contrary, she sees only one thing, and that one thing is the truth: God is her all in all. She will give herself away to Him because He has given Himself away for her. Not only has God always taken care of her—and her abundance is found in Him—but He has always given of His all for her. How can she do less?
“Lord God, You are our all in all. Thank You for giving of Yourself that we might have life. Thank You for Christ’s own humiliation, poverty, and death that we might have glory, riches, and life. Make us like You, O God, and teach us to lay down our all for You—our money, our time, our relationships, our loves, our everything—knowing all that we need is found in You. Help us, dear God, not to look on appearances, not to be fooled by circumstances, but to look to the truth as it is found in You, to look to the promises of Your Word, to see the great riches we have in following You, to look by faith to our only hope, which is Jesus Christ our Lord, in whose name we pray. Amen.”
Showing posts with label Self-Denial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Self-Denial. Show all posts
Friday, April 15, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Self-Denial: The Centrality of the Cross in the Daily-ness of Life
“When He had called the people to Himself with His disciples also, He said to them, ‘Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?’” (Mark 8:34–37)
The heart of the gospel is the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is not only the heart of our faith as recorded in our confessions, but it is the heart of our faith as it must be lived out in the daily-ness of our lives. This is what it is to follow Christ. Christ has called us to a life of death that leads to life.
How do we, like Paul, “die daily”? Certainly we must be willing to be killed for the sake of Christ and the gospel, just as He was put to death for our sakes and for our salvation. And there are Christians throughout history and throughout the world today who make this sacrifice. But is there no application for those of us who are not under the immediate threat of being put to death for our faith? On the contrary, if we are not dying to ourselves through the self-denial Christ is speaking of here, it is highly unlikely we will make the greater sacrifice of laying down our lives on a literal cross made of wood.
To many Christians the doctrine of Christian liberty is far more appealing than the doctrine of self-denial. And certainly extremes in either of these doctrines are dangerous distractions from the true life of a disciple. One of the dangers is that of reacting to extremes in the one by embracing the extremes of the other. Indulgence is no proper substitute for asceticism, just as standing barefoot in the snow eating stale crusts of bread is not the only answer to overfeeding “the flesh.”
But in modern American Christianity it would appear we do not have as much of the struggle against ascetic extremes as we do in actually following Christ in the call to self-denial. This is due at least in part to our broad and flashy but often shallow depth of faith. We often do not really believe we will find life by losing it. We do not believe our cross is actually the road to our resurrection. We like the part about being forgiven of sins and having extension of life, but we all too often chafe under a new life in Christ that means humility, self-control, looking out for the interests of others, “buffeting” my body so as not to be disqualified in the race of faith. Life is found, Christ’s call repeats, through losing it for Christ's sake and for the sake of others.
As with all other virtues, self-denial is to be “put on” and worn every day and for every moment, not only on special occasions. Self-denial gets up in the middle of the night to comfort a crying baby, sacrificing sleep—“your life”—to bring life and love and the gospel to a child in need. Self-denial takes on the risk of the trouble and pain and patience it takes to make a friendship—or a marriage—work in a sinful but redeemed world. Self-denial does the dishes, takes out the trash, sympathizes with his spouse’s headache because the part of him that wants to do what’s right wins out over the part of him that doesn’t.
“Dear God, Author of Life and Teacher of Mankind, teach us how to die. We give You thanks again for the willing sacrifice of our Savior, Your Son and our Lord, Jesus Christ, who lay down His life—and took it up again—for our sakes, that we might have life through Him. Make us like Him, dear God, and help us to deny ourselves for the sake of others, for the sake of Christ, for the gospel’s sake, and for the sake of our own souls. We pray in Christ’s name. Amen.”
The heart of the gospel is the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is not only the heart of our faith as recorded in our confessions, but it is the heart of our faith as it must be lived out in the daily-ness of our lives. This is what it is to follow Christ. Christ has called us to a life of death that leads to life.
How do we, like Paul, “die daily”? Certainly we must be willing to be killed for the sake of Christ and the gospel, just as He was put to death for our sakes and for our salvation. And there are Christians throughout history and throughout the world today who make this sacrifice. But is there no application for those of us who are not under the immediate threat of being put to death for our faith? On the contrary, if we are not dying to ourselves through the self-denial Christ is speaking of here, it is highly unlikely we will make the greater sacrifice of laying down our lives on a literal cross made of wood.
To many Christians the doctrine of Christian liberty is far more appealing than the doctrine of self-denial. And certainly extremes in either of these doctrines are dangerous distractions from the true life of a disciple. One of the dangers is that of reacting to extremes in the one by embracing the extremes of the other. Indulgence is no proper substitute for asceticism, just as standing barefoot in the snow eating stale crusts of bread is not the only answer to overfeeding “the flesh.”
But in modern American Christianity it would appear we do not have as much of the struggle against ascetic extremes as we do in actually following Christ in the call to self-denial. This is due at least in part to our broad and flashy but often shallow depth of faith. We often do not really believe we will find life by losing it. We do not believe our cross is actually the road to our resurrection. We like the part about being forgiven of sins and having extension of life, but we all too often chafe under a new life in Christ that means humility, self-control, looking out for the interests of others, “buffeting” my body so as not to be disqualified in the race of faith. Life is found, Christ’s call repeats, through losing it for Christ's sake and for the sake of others.
As with all other virtues, self-denial is to be “put on” and worn every day and for every moment, not only on special occasions. Self-denial gets up in the middle of the night to comfort a crying baby, sacrificing sleep—“your life”—to bring life and love and the gospel to a child in need. Self-denial takes on the risk of the trouble and pain and patience it takes to make a friendship—or a marriage—work in a sinful but redeemed world. Self-denial does the dishes, takes out the trash, sympathizes with his spouse’s headache because the part of him that wants to do what’s right wins out over the part of him that doesn’t.
“Dear God, Author of Life and Teacher of Mankind, teach us how to die. We give You thanks again for the willing sacrifice of our Savior, Your Son and our Lord, Jesus Christ, who lay down His life—and took it up again—for our sakes, that we might have life through Him. Make us like Him, dear God, and help us to deny ourselves for the sake of others, for the sake of Christ, for the gospel’s sake, and for the sake of our own souls. We pray in Christ’s name. Amen.”
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