Krissi

This topic is close to my heart. Six years ago, my father asked me to move in with him to help him die. When I started caring for him, I thought it would take months, not years. He is in his 97th year, now, and is still very much alive. I do not like the talk of duty, debt or responsibility when dealing with family members, though understand how our language devolved to this. To care for the elderly is a privilege, not a duty. It is also a trial. My father is a confirmed atheist, btw. His care has fallen solely on my shoulders -- my sibling, who claims to be a Christian and lives nearby, has visited him once in the last three years. I confess that I am praying for His justice regarding her, for she is "worse than an unbeliever" and her selfishness is hurting me. Caring for the elderly is a full-time endeavor. One has to give up career, income, travel, opportunities, joy, friends, romance ... life itself. I have had few, if any, compensations. STILL, and this is important, I believe God will make up the years the locust has eaten, that He sees my lack and ebbing hope as opportunities to do a great miracle. I pray for my father's salvation and though he has not accepted Christ, God has heard my prayers and will answer them in His time. I believe that God will bring good out of this circumstance. Lately, I've been listening to Rick Joyner videos on Youtube -- one of his themes is that trials are opportunities that shouldn't be wasted. Caring for my father, then, is both a trial and a privilege/opportunity. It is growing me into someone that God can use in the future. I spend hours studying and worshiping. I'm not wasting this trial.

Though "rigid, unsmiling orthodoxy" can certainly teach morality and ethical norms as well as "right doctrine," godliness goes beyond behavior to the heart, and I don't see much about the heart in these particular passages of Paul. I do see Paul telling Timothy to "not neglect your gift," which suggests that Paul views the Holy Spirit as the basis of godliness. -- We Christians, not just church leaders, should "be diligent ... give wholly" and progress in our Christian live, speech, love, faith and purity. That's a tall order. It would be helpful to restore a respect for the elderly as older people, after a lifetime of Christian faith, have much to teach and show-by-example younger and middle age Christians. Moral leaders aren't necessarily church leaders. Moral leaders are the those who have been tried and tested repeatedly and found not wanting. They need to step up to the plate and mentor. There are elders and olders. We're talking about olders. I see two problems. First, we wrongly associate moral leadership with church leadership instead of age-in-Christ. There are very few Timothys -- young people who are morally mature -- and more ignored, wise old women and men. So we're looking to the wrong people. Secondly, older people are used to being shoved to the side (Western churches practically worship young families) so do not assert themselves as moral leaders. The olders of the church need to do their part by claiming their rightful role in the church. I'd love to see a church which overtly and publicly exhorts it's congregation to heed the words the 70s-80s-and-90s members. I'd also love to see the olders in the church "assigned" to mentor a group of younger people, perhaps taking them to coffee weekly or running small accountability groups. We have wisdom in our midst but do not avail ourselves of it!

How would you define "godliness"? What produces godliness in a person? How is godliness different from embracing a strict morality? I would describe my family as good-godless. They're morally strict, completely honest in their dealings with others including finance, upright to the point of being inflexible, non-demonstrative emotionally because they value "rational relationships", and, in the past, politically active because "we owe it to society." I was taught, as a young child, a form of noblesse oblige, though I don't want to make it seem snotty or stuffy: I was taught to "give back" because "it's the right thing to do." My family is also comprised of hard-core atheists. For many years I had difficulty reconciling my own moral failures with my faith -- and my family's seeming moral rectitude with their atheism. Surely, I thought, the faith-filled should be "better" than the faithless? Shouldn't the faithful have a knee-jerk tendency toward doing the right thing which the godless do not possess? Shouldn't the presence of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of Christians incline them toward goodness and godliness in a way that overwhelms the paltry good deeds of the godless? I do think, on average, that Christians are more moral in their behavior than non-Christians, even though statistics such as the divorce rate suggest otherwise. But there are plenty of moral people outside the church, such as my family. This still gives me pause. Often, the behaviors of the strict moralists mime those of godly Christians. They're indistinguishable at the behavioral level, that is. What makes a godly person godly is his or her motivation and what's in the heart. A godly person is motivated to please God, to honor Him in little ways by self-sacrificing moral behavior. Furthermore, a godly person has not just internalized moral behaviors, but can name them -- generosity, patience, self-control, etc. A godly person knows these behaviors, as they are developed within, to have been prompted and nurtured by the Spirit. A residue of God's morality remained after the fall. Some non-believers picked up, or were taught, to be moral because of this residue which still persists in society. This is more than "general revelation" -- it is God's continual working in nature and human society. He hasn't let society implode but actively kept HIs orderly ways and behavioral norms alive ... though it often doesn't seem that way.

Why is performance of legalistic requirements so attractive to people? 1. The holier-than-thou syndrome is universal, grading spirituality/religiosity on a sliding scale according to the stringency of behavior. All religions seem to have this tendency which makes me think it's universal. Yes, Jews are notorious for weird rule-keeping, but it's prevalent in Hinduism as well, for example. 2. It's far easier to adjust exterior behavior than correct or change the heart. Religions that have silly behavioral demands seem to avoid facing the far more important interior changes that God requires. 3. Legalism is in-grouping. It sets one group over-against another and therefore increases group solidarity. Group promoters and leaders, therefore, use legalistic behavior to keep the herd together and control it. What fruit does it produce in a person's life? In what ways is this emphasis so different from the true gospel? 1. The emphasis here is on the individual -- an individual may feel absolved from character flaws or individual sins if they keep the letter of the law. Thus, there's a false pride that accompanies rule-keeping which is contrary to the gospel message of transformation into Christ-likeness. 2. If the emphasis is on the group, then a group experiences extreme in-grouping which tends to demonize and dehumanize other religions or even cohorts within their own religion. The extreme result is wanton killing in war ... genocide. The true gospel is pacifistic.

Why does Paul remind Timothy (and the church) of predictions concerning widespread apostasy?What effect should this knowledge have on his ministry and the church's perception of the situation? Perhaps knowing, in advance, what was predicted to happen to Timothy/church was enough to steel their resolve to battle it spiritually. I think of it as being warned not to fall in a big hole in the ground -- it would put me on my guard, watching for the hole, walking around it with space to spare, etc. Note that they took the prophecy literally and as if it were for them, not in the far future. So many "prophets" today tend to look way ahead from when they gave a prophecy to it's fulfillment. This delays the reckoning. No prophecy can be tested if the time of it's fulfillment is after one's death or far in the future. Knowing that apostasy would surely happen, but not the degree or to whom, would make Timothy more watchful for signs of it's appearance. Perhaps he could save a few people in the churches from the rabble who seem to fall for bizarre teachings. If he warned the church repeatedly, they, too, would be on the look-out for apostasy and would be able to erect a hedge around their faith and that of the church to keep apostacy at bay.

We are all called to do whatever we can in our group or church. If we are gifted in teaching, we should teach; if one's gifting is administrative, we should administrate, and so on. The name we put on our particular role seems irrelevant. Today's churches often have a person on staff that is Internet-savvy, computer literate and highly communicative. This role didn't exist in Paul's day. The point is that God brings people whose gifts are needed at that time and place: God provides "personnel." Old needs/titles are replaced by new ones, though not entirely. There will always be a need for those who are compassionate, good-listeners, etc. This is a pastoral aspect of ministry that many do, though some are better than others. We are to serve and love others. There will always be a need for those inclined toward evangelism and reaching the lost. And, I think, there will always be a leadership class or group, however named. Maybe I'm missing something, but the fact that they were once called elders or deacons doesn't strike me as important. What matters is getting out there and doing the work in front of you. Today, for example, if I am able to get away from home-duties, I'm going to go to the church to help move boxes from one building to another. I rather doubt this is my calling -- I'm not particularly strong -- but is a titleless job that needs to be done. -- ON THE OTHER HAND ... I remember, a couple decades ago, sitting with other younger people who were lamenting the state of the church. Some (proto-Marxist) wag decided that church "structures" needed to be upended -- we had to "rethink" church, he said. At the time, I thought it silly to jettison a couple thousand years of slow development and history to make the radical changes he wanted. Some things SHOULD be conserved. Yes, pastor, evangelist, deacon, elder ... are just titles. But these title have worked well in the past, haven't they? The fact that new roles are being performed without titles to explain them doesn't negate the need for these roles in the contemporary church. Maybe there's something to the old roles that transcends time/place? Perhaps we should honor the past, with humility?

Though all pastors have to deal with people, not all church leaders are put in positions where their characters are revealed. Leaders that deal with finances, architecture/building programs and pure admin have much less 'human contact' than leaders that deal with education, psychology and visitation. Thus, perhaps, some church leaders are able to hide certain character deficits better than others so it's important to thoroughly vet all in leadership roles, even the church "banker". Having said this, as a shy, introverted person, I would not want people examining my character because I'm very private. There has to be a kind way to look for character flaws, without making the person feel targeted and exposed. Perhaps it's best to ask? Anger, force and intimidation are not private sin for these character malformations require a victim or situation to be angry at. They are visible and very damaging -- hard to hide. Pride is easier to hide yet incredibly dangerous. We all have instances of pride, but I think the pride in leaders is referring to people who are easily miffed and self-protective, and who therefore getsangry, forceful and overbearing. I'm not sure about this, but pride may be the ur-sin that underlies all the others, the causative factor.

It's just smart to check out a 'purchase' before you invest in it . Sometimes people are damaged or poorly constructed. I've noticed that most of the attention is directed at choosing a pastor. Churches seem to jump through hoops to call a pastor as the positions "below" him seem to be filled on more of an ad hoc basis. Often, elders and deacons are chosen by the recommendation of who they know. Too, the vestry or elder board is particularly vulnerable to being chosen according to the level of their financial contributions, I've noticed. There's a certain kind of person that wants to be at the top and or in the limelight. They do a great job when being watched, but not because they feel a heart-need to humbly serve the congregation. Motive matters. Pastor Ralph gave us a long list of attributes. As I read through the list, I doubted anyone could live up to them. Perhaps the most important thing we can do when selecting church leaders is to select only from those who are "tried and true." Character reveals itself slowly but eventually, character does show itself. It would have to be a long-standing member of the church who has proven himself/herself worthy. To sum, there seems to be two needs to be met when selecting leaders. First, competency -- they need to have the skills and ability to do the job. Second, character -- they need to reflect Jesus.

What kind of leader do you believe Paul is indicating for us with the phrase "husband of one wife"? Why is a leader's family an important indicator of leadership potential or problems? Pastor Ralph's explanation makes sense. The husband of one wife means a man is not indulging in adultery. One thing that went unmentioned was the common practice in that society of men who bedded their servants or had "second families" with concubines. Because this WAS relatively common in the First Century church, I believe this passage refers to these sorts of practices. The ideal monogamous family was even more rare then than today. -- I knew a pastor who had a child that rebelled -- this pastor quit after his son got into drugs, impregnated a girl in the church and then was arrested for a crime he did commit. Is it right to hold the father/mother responsible for prodigal, adult children? I don't think so. The church must be very cautious before tarring the father with the sins of his sons and daughters. More commonly, a pastor's marriage goes awry. Sometimes pastoral couples can take off a few months to patch up their marraiges, but more often than not, pastors leave the ministry after they divorce whether they want to or not. The scriptures are clear that adultery is not permitted but a pastor whose wife/husband wrongfully left them should be permitted to remarry and lead the church -- this is my opinion only. I'm recalling the pastor of a large church in Atlanta whose wife left him -- Charles Stanley? I hope I have the right name. Anyway, he promised his church that he'd never remarry. For most congregants, this was sufficient. This man had faithfully served that church for decades, I believe, so the congregants must have known him well. I do wonder, however, had he been younger and wanted to remarry, what he and the church would have done.

I'm very pleased that Pastor Ralph, boldly, plunged into a contentious topic -- kudos! In response, and with much less boldness, I'm going to speak autobiographically: When I was in my 20s, I was gung-ho women's rights and equality -- third wave feminism -- from a Christian perspective. But then I had kids and discovered that my boys were quite different than my girls. My boys simply refused to play with "girl toys." Similarly, my girls thought trucks and trains were boring. It occurred to me, at that time, that there may be something to "gender differentiation." In early middle age, I remained observant but uncommitted on the topic. My husband at that time was a very weak man -- I am divorced -- so I was forced, against my will, to discipline the boys, handle the finances (though he was a bond broker) and other more masculine tasks. I was torn because my interests were never trad female so I very much wanted to make my way in the big world. I didn't like being at home. When the last kid finally flew out of the nest, I literally rejoiced. Free at last! I had used child-rearing time to work on degrees, in part to salve the tedium of child-rearing, but even that wasn't enough to stave off my desire to have a bigger life. BUT ... and here's the "but" ... it had become clear to me that men and women were different, and though I didn't want to exaggerate these differences into a Mars/Venus sort of dichotomy, seeing women in military uniform, for instance, made me wonder if the extreme egalitarianism of our society was reality-based. I started pondering the scriptures, particularly Paul's prohibitions against women in leadership, but frankly, given my skill set, as they say, I didn't want to go to a church where I'd be immediately shoved into the nursery to change diapers, just because I'm female. Fast forward. About five years ago, I stopped cutting my hair. As long as I pulled it back neatly, it looked acceptable. In the deep crevices of my mind, I wondered if God was asking me to do this. I still don't know. I also wear hair coverings which are subtle and unlike the Amish kappas, or whatever they're called. Fast forward again. About six months ago, I started attending an all-women's church after a life-time of attending Episcopalian or Anglican churches, though my heritage is Quaker. The pastor and all leaders of this church are female. We meet twice weekly, in the evenings, since about half the women work. Once a month, the church invites men to worship at a special evening service. Most of these men are spouses but single men also come. This created a problem for me. In the last two months, I have been asked out by men after the meeting -- I refused. Note that the church dynamic completely changed when men were included. Instead of feeling free to worship and talk as I so chose, I felt spiritually restricted. Frankly, I never expected this. Perhaps this is because I'm single. Single women are like an extra thumb or a sixth-finger in a trad church ... a weird appendage that doesn't work or look right. When I had been attending an anglican church, I felt incredible social pressure to marry but never felt that the men I was pushed toward were God's will. Going to the all-women's church eliminated this problem completely, truth be told. BUT ... and here's another "but" ... I still don't think it's healthy to divide a congregation by gender like this. I'm not sure it's scriptural, either. It is comfortable, but God demands obedience, not ease, so if God leads me back into a trad church, I'll obey with trepidation. Why?Firstly, the sorts of hyper charismatic churches that permit women to teach/preach/heal/prophecy/etc. also tend to have women in leadership. On the other hand, secondly, hyper-liberal churches also have women in leadership. Most of these liberal women have permissive and unbiblical views of sex and homosexuality. I vehemently disagree with them over this. Some women have solved this problem by splitting the difference, claiming submission at home but not in church -- others reverse this, submitting at church but not at home ... in practice. To me, there must be consistency. If women are created differently than men, which obviously they are, then what is the consistent and logical outcome of this created difference? How much overlap is permitted? If a woman is a stellar preacher or leader, should she be confined to children or to other women? If a woman is obviously gifted, as Pastor Ralph notes, shouldn't she feel a God-given obligation to exercise His gifts? I've also noticed that men, via testosterone, naturally climb toward the top of the pile. They're aggressive, in other words. The other day I was looking at a pic of Russian military generals. They were very gruff and masculine, a sad comparison to the "soyboys" in Western militaries and State Departments. They had gravitas. Didn't need to prove themselves. And there wasn't a woman nearby. As I looked at this image I thought it looked natural, in a positive sense of being the way God ordained humans to be. Men fight -- women support fighters from way behind the lines. Perhaps the church has a similar dynamic which may explain why Paul wrote as he did. His teachings are far too short. I have to read between the lines. His readers must have know what he was getting at -- I can only guess. Sorry for being so long-winded. Bottom line? I don't really know what's right and wrong for women in the church. I don't think we've done a good job thinking through this issue as a wider body of Christ and am willing to let go of the issue -- if some churches ordain women and congregants are spiritually led and fed by her, so be it; if other churches only ordain men and congregants are spiritual led and fed by him, so be it.

In a materialistic and status-conscious society, exterior or visible markers (home, clothes, car, etc.) signal social status vis-a vis-others. It's always comparative. Both women and men have the tendency to compare or "peacock," but this passage speaks about women. Recently, I visited a woman's meeting of mostly younger women (20s/30s) during which the leader chided attendees for comparing themselves to each other in appearance: weight, clothes, etc. I was surprised to hear the leader speak on this topic; sadly, she must have felt it was necessary. By comparison, I regularly go to another bi-weekly meeting of women who are of many ages (mostly 50s) and have never seen this sort of problem. If anything, we come to the meeting in loose jeans, looking rather lousy. No one impresses others. Modesty used to be expected. I've seen a timeline of bathing suits, for example, in which the degree to which the body is exposed increased during the last century to the point where, in Europe and a few beaches in America, near-nudity has become the norm. Western cultures which once valued modesty now value immodesty. To be modest, today, is to rub against cultural expectations. So, it's not surprising that even in church, some women haven't yet questioned social norms -- sanctification is a slow process, after all. The larger question of social status and materialism is the important subtext of these passages. If a woman gets out of a very expensive sports car which had been previously parked in her five-car garage at a large estate -- yet dresses modestly -- has she fulfilled the spirit of what Paul is saying? I don't think so. The attitude within her cannot be masked by modest dressing. It is actually possible to be ostentatiously modest ... to be proudly modest! Personally, I believe that people should live below their means, if possible, by never indicating their income is higher than others. This is done by quietly and secretly living below the average of their society/culture/neighborhood. Then, no attention is attracted to themselves. It's a way of preventing sin.

What problem among the men of the congregation is Paul referring to in this verse? What is so serious about worshipping with the opposite of love in your heart? The church did not feel God's entire presence/power or were having their prayers answered. This applied to the entire church, not just the "bad apples." So when a few in the church were angry and unloving in their worship, it brought down the entire congregation. The men in the church are often/usually it's leaders. When men are angry, that anger filters down into the entire church including women and children. The closer to the Lord a church is, the more likely it is that one member can influence or impact the rest of the body. Like a gangrenous finger or toe, this individual can infect the body. It must be dealt with. But many of us prefer to run away from conflict that dealing with this problem would create. We prefer peace, for good reason. The remedy is difficult. As a congregation, the ones who are spreading anger and dissension have to be identified -- that alone is difficult. But once identified, the angry-ones have to be changed, which is a work of ths Holy Spirit. I suppose church discipline comes in at this point, but this is rarely done. Personally, if I'm doing something wrong or am angry at someone my spiritual life is immediately tainted. I must right the wrong with confession and a determination toward holiness. If I don't right the wrong in me quickly, the tainted-ness begins to feel normal and I am less inclined to deal with it in the future. This probably applies at the level of church, as well.

In the context of the salvation of all, why do you think Paul emphasizes the roles of Mediator and Ransom? In what way did Christ fulfill both these roles? In a way, a mediator and a ransom are concepts that point in opposing directions. A mediator, such as a diplomat, tries to find common ground and minimize differences between the two parties. A ransom is done when the differences are too great, a bridge has to be created, and this is the only way to get to the other side. Perhaps Paul is emphasizing the mediator so we realize the degree to which Christ put Himself between us and God. He stepped in to mediate and didn't leave us separated, forever, from God. Yet He accomplished this by being Himself our ransom, paying for our sins with His blood because mediation alone was insufficient. Lately, I've been reading the Message translation of the bible. Here is our verse: that there's one God and only one, and one Priest-Mediator between God and us - Jesus, 6 who offered himself in exchange for everyone held captive by sin, to set them all free. Eventually the news is going to get out. Interestingly, Jesus is called a Priest-Mediator which takes us out of the legal realm and into the sacrificial realm, which is often how we think of Christ's sacrifice on the cross.

Most people who are divorced or have been deeply jilted know what it is like to lose love, even if it's not the first love. Losing love takes away the innocence and trust that that love once engendered. It also makes it more difficult to love again -- one's heart scars, just as flesh scars. Scars are tough. They don't stretch as they used to; they're not pliable and soft, but tough and protective. After losing the first love, I still craved love but was too distrusting and distant to receive it. I couldn't quite grasp love even though it was in front of me -- I was too afraid. This also happened between me and Jesus. In fact, it's happening now. I trust Jesus to a point, but beyond that point I'm afraid He'll let me down, that He won't be there and won't truly love me as a Father. And so, as Pastor Ralph wrote, I need to "regain a personal intimacy" with Christ, which is happening, though slowly and imperfectly. I have to "forget what is behind." This, for me, means forgetting an important prayer NOT answered and the great suffering that resulted. Forgetting is hard to do. Yet I know that without forgetting I'll never be able to trust Him to answer future prayers. I must overcome the idea that If God let me down once, why not twice? In my mind, I know God has a plan and can bring good out of evil but only if I forget that He didn't deal with the evil in the first place, as I had so earnestly prayed. It's not good works or being "churchy" that pulls me away from Christ, but my fear of His non-involvement and non-willingness to rescue and help me. To restore this, I'm starting again. Taking these courses is part of redoing/relearning first principles such as the character of Christ that we learned in the last lesson. I'm learning, again, that God IS love, and trying to have that truth sink into my scarred soul. I have to repent of faithlessness, of not trusting Him, and of not thinking correctly about Him. I have to repent of my anger and sense of betrayal. I have to repent of my fear of trusting Him again. Yes, it is sin to think God has let me down. He is sovereign. All things are under His control and manipulation. He simply chose to let me suffer unjustly and had His own reasons for doing so. I need to trust Him in spite of this. This is why I fear martyrdom -- to be a martyr is the epitome of being abandoned at the greatest time of need, which is exactly what Christ thought/said on the cross. WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME? Perhaps my experience is unusual, though as I age, I've learned I'm not "special" and that most people have experiences similar to my own. Other believers, too, have experienced a deep sense of God's betrayal which shallow bromides spoken at church were unable to help. I feel horrible confessing this. God has lessons for us to learn which He repeats until we learn them. Then, we "level up" and start the process again. Very few deep lessons can be learned without pain and suffering, at least in my experience. This seems to be God's way. The hot crucible burns off the dross. A.W. Tozer once wrote, “It is doubtful whether God can use a man greatly, until he has first hurt him significantly.” I pray to be used greatly. To be used greatly, I pray to learn what He wants to teach me quickly, not slowly, that the heat of teh crucible is reduced if not eliminated, that joy returns and the sun rises again in my soul. I pray to be able to sincerely and passionately praise Him for who He is. True praise would mark the return of love. When I desire -- not fear -- to come to Him with my problems, small or large, and believe -- not fear -- that He will surely answer my prayers, then I will have learned to love again.

Why does Paul need to remind Timothy about the prophecies spoken over him? In practical terms, what does "fight the good fight" really mean? Why does Paul tell Timothy to "hold on to faith and a good conscience"? What temptation is Paul trying to counter in his protégé? I would love to have a prophecy spoken over me, to know clearly how God intends to use me going forward and be certain of my spiritual calling. Alas, God has not chosen to speak to me like this. Timothy was blessed to have this experience, however. Strangely, he needed to be reminded of what God had said about him through the prophets. Perhaps he had become so distracted by the trees that he forgot the forest? Perhaps he was so discouraged by lack of fruit that he doubted his original prophetic assignment? We don't know what caused Paul to encourage Timothy in this way, but we do know that Timothy needed encouragement at that time and Paul was generous and sensitive enough to provide it. Fighting the GOOD fight means avoiding fights that are not so good. Some of us are fighters. We take up arms at the wrong time. Timothy doesn't seem to be a fighter, however, but is naturally meek and unassuming. He's being exhorted by Paul, who is a fighter, to fight harder, to counter the evil that's done or presented to him. Timothy is undergoing a trial of faith and persecution. Paul is encouraging him to hang on, keep going and not succumb to short cuts or behavior that would mar his good conscience. I think Paul is trying to counter Timothy's aversion to battle. Timothy seems to be a peaceful guy, one who would run away from conflict rather than run into it. This Paul is countering in Timothy, the temptation to run, hide, be timid, give up and be safe.

How can pride in our own righteousness and religious achievements actually get in the way of "knowing Christ"? Has this ever happened to you or someone you know? It's interesting how the question is worded. It's not pride in our worldly achievements, but in our righteousness and religious achievement that is being put under a lens. Bracketing the word "religious" which has taken on a strange negativity in recent years, and replacing it with "spiritual" which still has positive connotations, the question we're asked is whether we can feel proud of our growth as Christians -- our spiritual growth -- as well as proud of what we accomplish for Him on this earth. Looking at it this way, yes, I think there's a holy space for pride, for looking back and saying to ourselves, "I'm not what I was ... He has changed me," and "by His grace I was able to _____." Must we always focus on our failures and shortcomings or is it more edifying to others to openly be amazed AND PROUD that God used us like he used, say, George Mueller? I suppose if a person was credited with building a great Christian empire, a new denomination, a series of evangelistic crusades or healing ministries, or an achievement that put a human face and name on the ministry, such as Billy Graham's crusades, then pride in religious achievements COULD be a problem. Some do fall, after all. Ego does rear it's ugly head. But most Christians, including Graham, live a long life without becoming overtly and excessively proud or big-headed because of their acclaim and personal popularity. It's possible for Christians to achieve great things in the public eye without falling into pride and sin. Perhaps probable. Failure is NOT inevitable. We tend to glom onto the salacious stories of the day, the latest pastor caught in bed with a "dead girl or live boy," to quote the late Edwin Edwards. Thankfully, God always uses broken and leaking vessels. that's all He has to choose from! If He didn't choose from prideful humans, none of us would be chosen for the obvious reason that there are no perfected men and women on earth. And yet ... and yet ... most great Chrsitians who are cracked at birth stay intact ... most leaks never become springs. God protects his anointed. I think of Saul and David who both sinned greatly and all the kings of Judah and Israel who did evil in the sight of God. And yet, from them, an occasional good king came forth. Finally, Jesus Himself was born from that fallen bloodline. -- Perhaps all of us on this site should pray that God uses us in much greater ways. Pray to be instrumental. To have a big life in Him and never settle for the safe and secure, but to risk failure, pride and all the sins that "get in the way of knowing Christ." Perhaps we are supposed to press toward and beyond the limits of our ability as well as the dark limits of our character? Perhaps we're to risk failure and becoming prideful in order to gain whatever we're to do? Most of us will NOT fall in big, public manner, but will succeed if we put our faith in Him and keep pressing. Perhaps our fear of falling short is keeping Him from using us in bigger ways? We are "to fight the good fight fight the good fight, HOLDING ONTO FAITH AND A GOOD CONSCIENCE." We are not to hold onto faith and a good conscience by avoiding fights.

For me, it's not so much about what I learn about God -- a knowledge of Him -- but rather how I approach Him given the listed attributes. The tendency in some of the prayer groups I attend is to reduce God to a friend. He IS a friend, of course, but He is also glorious, and it is His glory to which the doxology points. In church services, part of the liturgy involves doxologies and descriptors of His attributes. We chant them in unison. But in my personal prayer time, I have not done this. I should. I have been praying for a deep, gut-level, heart-encompassing understanding of Him. Maybe "understanding" is the wrong word. Knowledge? Intuition? I want something that goes beyond my mind and rationality, and digs into my soul or heart. Meditating on the attributes of God in this doxology is a start, perhaps. In the Message version: "Deep honor and bright glory to the King of All Time - One God, Immortal, Invisible, ever and always. Oh, yes!" The words are sorta silly, but this translation or transliteration is supposed to make us think about God in culturally common words. What is "deep honor"? What is "bright glory?" Do I really understand His oneness, the essential unity of the Godhead? To be immortal ... ever and always, unchanging and never ending, this is mind blowing, really. His invisibility, as Pastor Ralph showed, ended with the birth of Jesus. But God had already shown himself in wee bits to the prophets and great men/women of the Old Testament. The doxology makes me feel smaller and less capable of understanding God. I feel reverence.

As Pastor Ralph just taught, "in" means "union." So, to be "in Christ" means to be unified with Christ, in union with Him, or one with Christ. I tend to skip over the importance of little words such as "in" and therefore miss their significance. When I say that I am "in Him", in prayer, and with others, it is a way of saying I'm a Christian. But it's much more than this, and I should use my words more carefully. To be "in Christ" is somewhat like having the ground I stand on made new and different. It's foundational, that is. Furthermore, just as I am in Him, He is in me. That's the circle of faith and salvation, that God is in me for the first time, and I am in Him -- unified with Him.

Deep inside, Paul was still a trained Pharisee. His spiritual orientation had changed toward Christ, but he still thought "like a lawyer" which is why, perhaps, he stressed the law. The law had deep, personal importance to Paul and was his remaining connection to the Jews to whom he wanted to evangelize. This could be why he commented on his own life after mentioning the law. Paul was setting up his evangelistic message. In the Message bible it reads: "It’s obvious, isn’t it, that the law code isn’t primarily for people who live responsibly, but for the irresponsible, who defy all authority, riding roughshod over God, life, sex, truth, whatever! They are cynical toward this great Message ..." The law condemned Paul, as it does all of us, a fact which Paul used to further the gospel message. Paul writes so those who read his text understand that he, who had brutally and murderously persecuted Christians, had been transformed by the grace of God into a man who willingly put himself in danger to spread the gospel message. The internal change in Paul was obvious. The cause, less so. Paul had to explain to people what was the cause of his personal transformation. He had to explain the change that had happened within him: the transformation from a law-obsessed, murderous Pharisee to a grace-filled, eventually-murdered Christian. His own life story helped him explain this. Paul wanted new Christians to pull away from "fanciful family trees" and "fantasy stories" which had derailed the gospel message. He wanted the young church to re-find the centre of the gospel message which created in it's hearers, in Paul's words, a "deepening faith and obedience."

The other day I was watching a group of workers fix a road. They were cold, dispirited and bored by their task. They seemed not to have any pride in what they were doing and made no eye-contact with the people in the cars who had stopped at the light near where they were working. I wondered if they felt humiliated by the job they were doing -- I hoped not for all work, even humble work, is noble. Maybe Jesus was like this? I think of carpenters as highly skilled, but perhaps at that time, they were at the bottom of the social ladder. Did Jesus know himself to be God as he plied his trade with hammer and saw? Did he feel humiliated by his line of work or proud of the things he had built? Perhaps Jesus' self-consciousness as God is the key to answering these questions. And his death ... well, we have historical parallels that are contemporary that make Jesus' humiliation at death understandable. The deaths of Italian partisans -- fascists -- at the end of WWII come to mind. (I'm not paralleling the life of Jesus to that of Mussolini, obviously, only his death.) Mussolini had been executed but his body and that of his wife and others were dumped into a public square. People kicked the bodies, urinated on them and eventually hung them upside-down on a beam in front of a gas station. Humiliation after death. Perhaps Christ's death was like this. Mocked and spit upon, his tattered clothing "auctioned off," his battered body removed and quickly carted away to a tomb ... before the Jews could further humiliate him after death. The Message Bible reads: " ... When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death - and the worst kind of death at that: a crucifixion." And yet, unlike fallen human leaders, Jesus rose again. He didn't try to save face or exalt himself, but died quietly and then, amazingly, came to life again, to walk AGAIN among men and women knowing He was GOD! Those who are most like Christ, then, are martyrs.

False teaching at Ephesus resulted in dissension and back-biting among the congregants because of its mataiologia, "empty, fruitless talk." (It sounds a bit like being trapped in an pretentious academic seminar without exit doors. :)) It's easy to imagine that our conversations are weightier and more important than they really are -- it's humbling to admit that many of our conversations are mere meaningless blather, from God's perspective. The people at Ephesus needed a bit more humility, apparently. Doctrinal controversy, more so than, say, vehement disagreements over church finances, cuts to the heart of a church. What we hold in common are not merely cultural values, but a religious faith grounded in biblical teaching. When pridefully we argue over that teaching -- which can be strengthening, by the way, if done correctly -- we unintentionally weaken our shared faith. Having said this, there are teachings worth fighting for, the core teachings of the Bible. We are not to run away from controversy that's important. I don' t think that doctrinal controversies are the only sorts of disagreements that pull us from our mission, but any controversy or disagreement that is unresolvable or tangential to the core of faith has the effect of distracting us and dividing the body. For example, good Christians have died over the controversy regarding the eucharist/Lord's Supper -- whether it's purely symbolic or the actual body/blood of Jesus ... or something in-between. On issues such as this, it may be best to go to the corner of the ring and associate with people who share your beliefs. There are reasons why Protestants splinter and one of them is to prevent dissension.

Paul is facing death. He knows it. Christians do not weigh the advantages of death unless they believe they're soon to die. The brutality of Paul's death may not have been known to him, but the fact of his soon death seems sure. Yes, it's good to be with Jesus for eternity, but i'm still troubled that God did not intervene in the brutal deaths of those who were most passionately devoted to him, his disciples. It's very faith-deflating to fear God may NOT deliver us in the most dire, truly existential moments of our lives. I can't deal with this.

"Mild" societal disapproval doesn't silence most Chrsitians, or so it seems, but rather we fear the sort of not-so-subtle persecution which is increasingly prevalent in the West, such as being fired from a job for sharing the gospel or refusing to engage in obviously immoral practices. I have known Christians who were turned into social service agencies for obeying their elderly parents, for example, and who were subsequently dragged through the court system. I know many Christians who were denied tenure and even more who were not even hired in the first place because they were evangelical. Persecution within Western secular society is increasingly "tough" not "mild." Being a good soldier for Jesus means suffering. Suffering is hard to square with a good God. So, being a good soldier means, to me, to continue to suffer in silence even when I question God's goodness and control, which I do, at times. Being a good soldier means not giving up. It means standing up after being defeated, tightening the armor, and going back into battle. The "good fight" is mostly internal. Yes, there is increasing persecution -- external fight -- but to remain a "good soldier" one has to battle internal tendencies to give up or in, to weaken and even deny Christ. Most of the time, when the fight has been waged in the mind (it is never completely won), the odds of winning the good fight in one's external circumstances are much better. Fighting the good fight doesn't means I always win, but rather it means that when losing, I confess, pray for the strength to continue, and then force myself back into life. The victory is His.

Pastor Ralph gives two meanings for the word that's here translated ambassador. The first meaning has to do with service, that by serving others we are ambassadors (or mirrors) of Christ. The second meaning seems richer because it has to do with being sent away as Christ's representative. I'm not certain, but it seems that being sent involves going to places or people not your own. It's not what you do in your house (that could include the first meaning) but what you do publicly, in front of others, that makes one an ambassador of Christ. In this second meaning, an ambassador is much like a missionary. He/she is sent somewhere. He/she is on display or is in the public eye. He/she is self-consciously highly aware that behavior and words re-present the authority that sent, that is, Christ Himself. Pastor Ralph says this second meaning is what Paul intends, here. There are several words that could be translated ambassador in the NT. In a sense, we're all called to be ambassadors. The great commission of Jesus commands us to tell others about Christ's salvation. But, within the great commission there are subsets and one of these is being an ambassador, in the second meaning. When we are among seculars, we are among "foreign" people even if they are family or old friends. At this time, we are ambassadors. When we are among superficial Christians, particularly those who are unlike the believers we know at home, we are also ambassadors. We are called to serve. To love. To speak words of comfort and healing. To teach. To evangelize. To ... whatever. Being an ambassador isn't a verb but a noun. It's who we are as we do these verbs.

We will not be judged. When I got my doctorate, I had to appear before a panel of five scholars. Many of my peers had told me how horrible it would be, how these scholars would belittle and demean me, make me defend myself, etc., so admittedly, I was frightened. When I got there, I was ready to battle -- I had my arguments and self-defense queued up and ready to dispense. But then the strangest thing happened: we chit-chatted for about a half-hour after which, in unison, they got up, shook my hand and congratulated me. It was over. No one grilled me. Amazing!! I have a feeling that our "judgment" in heaven will be like this -- I'm stupidly afraid of something that won't happen. I know in my heart I should be judged, but won't be. Nothing will happen. Why? Because Jesus has covered me on that day of judgment. He's argued for me. It's already over.