“For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but 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. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.”
(Romans 5:6–11 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Rom._5:6, accessed 01-11-2020, bold font mine)
I struggle all the time, when it comes to the matter of believing that God still loves me. That is why I write about God’s love and grace so much. The reason is simple: Much of what I know about my history is not lovable.
And then, along comes the self-righteous, murderous Apostle Paul! He reminds me that God loves and gives grace to sinners.
In Romans 5:8, Paul uses the perfect tense for the word that is translated “shows” in the English Standard Version. (The King James Version has “commendeth,” if my memory serves me well.)
While the English Standard Version uses the English present tense, this does not fully convey what the Greek is saying. The Greek perfect tense suggests an action completed in the past with ongoing results. So, I would prefer something like the following, even though it is terribly awkward in English: “God has decisively demonstrated his love for us with ongoing results in this manner: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
“God has decisively demonstrated . . .”! The death of Christ for all us sinners has been completed in the past. There’s nothing I can do to undo that. There is nothing I can do to outdo that either.
But this once-and-for-all demonstration of God’s love for us screw-ups is continually effective. There is nothing that I can do to undo or outdo that, either.
I can’t wrap my mind around that kind of love, but I can welcome it into my heart.
A wise young friend and I were talking this morning about why it is that we so often make bad choices. A wise person not only says wise things, but also brings out the wisdom in others. Something my friend said provoked me to say, “Instead of blaming and shaming ourselves, we need to be reframing and renaming.”
Sometimes, when we’re stuck, we just need to see things in a different light. One way to see things differently is to reframe them. In a sense, frames don’t change the picture. However, they most certainly change how we view the picture.
And part of reframing is renaming.
Perhaps an example might help. If I have framed and named certain questionable behaviors as “shortcuts” to significance or to feeling good, I might want to rename and reframe such “shortcuts.” Perhaps I could rename such questionable behaviors as questionable behaviors. (And, of course, if I have to ask too many questions about a particular behavior, I already know it’s wrong for me. So, perhaps even “questionable behaviors” is not an adequate renaming.)
In a sense the renaming is the reframing. And if I have correctly renamed and reframed something, I am more likely to see it as it truly is.
Renaming and reframing may not be transformation, but they may be steps toward transformation. In any case, renaming and reframing are a darned sight better than shaming and blaming.
A wise young friend of mine is fond of the mantra, “Make it real!” I am not sure if he prefers it with an exclamation mark, but I think that it deserves one.
It is a good reminder for all of us who are better at thinking and speaking (or writing), but not so good on follow-through. Actually, my friend is very good at follow-through, in my judgment, but he is probably wise to remind himself with this make-it-real challenge to himself.
Making it real isn’t the easiest thing in the world, however. Faking it is much more popular. Many of us feel that reality sucks, most of the time. Perhaps we’re right; maybe it does.
But making it real is not a matter of feeling good. Reality rarely feels good initially. But committing ourselves to the real is, I think, a much better long-term strategy.
But the word “make” is as important as the word “real.” Reality is something that lands in our lap. Reality is something we do, something we make.
To be content with mere thought, with nice feelings, with wise words—this is not enough. We were made to make. And what we were made to make is reality.
My mom was awfully fond of the saying, “Pretty is as pretty does.” Perhaps we need a similar saying for the real. Something like “Real is as real is made.”
“But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.”
(Genesis 19:26 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
“Remember Lot’s wife.” (Luke 17:32, my translation. Jesus is warning his disciples about the difficulties in their future, and Jesus is encouraging them to persevere.)
Leon Morris comments as follows on Luke 17:32:
Lot’s wife came as close to deliverance without achieving it as was possible. She was brought right out of the doomed city and set on the way to safety. But she looked back and lingered, evidently in longing for the delights she was leaving behind. In the process she was caught up in the destruction that overtook Sodom and she perished with the city (Gen. 19:26).[1]
I have always thought along these lines. Lot’s wife was looking back because of her longing for “the good times” in the past. Perhaps that was indeed her motivation. (Looking back is often called “nostalgia.” Perhaps we should label it instead “sin” or “stupidity” or something else?)
However, this interpretation of Mrs. Lot’s motivation ignores one crucial aspect of the original story contained in Genesis 19, as well as one crucial aspect of Jesus’ words themselves. We are not told, either in Genesis 19 or in Luke 17:32, Lot’s wife’s motivation. Imputing motives is not wise, when we are doing so in our everyday, contemporary lives. Perhaps it is not a good idea in our biblical interpretation either.
Furthermore, in Genesis 19:17, when the angel warned Lot, his wife, and their daughters not to look back, the angel did not speak of motivation. The command is very specific: Don’t look back! No proviso about motivation at all!
So, maybe Lot’s wife looked back with regret for the time she had spent there. Or perhaps she was looking back with contempt toward the cities and their inhabitants.
Now, Lot’s wife speaks to me, because she speaks of me. I have struggled with nostalgia (and also with regret) since I was just a boy. The problem hasn’t gotten better with time.
So, what is wrong with looking back? Not a thing! Except that it prevents me from focusing on God and on the things that I need to be doing right now. Then there is the fact that an angel in the Old Testament, and Jesus in the New, who say, “Don’t look back!” and “Remember Lot’s wife!”
Don Henley has a song called “The Boys of Summer.” (Listen to a more contemplative version of the song, as part of a Howard Stern Show at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoxEcD4PCco, accessed 01-02-2020.) In this song, Henley says, “Don’t look back! You can never look back.”
Maybe you can look back. Certainly, I can. The question is should you—should
I—look back? I could, but I think I’ll
make a different decision. This year I am choosing to look forward, upward, and
at . . ., and not so much back!
[1]Leon Morris, Luke: An Introduction and Commentary, TNTC 3; IVP/Accordance electronic ed. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1988), 278.
I had a look at one of my favorite commentators on the book of Proverbs, Christine Roy Yoder, who wrote the following helpful comments:
Whereas mortals have the capacity and responsibility to plan their “way” . . . , God is proximate—God approves or redirects each step (the conjunction may be translated as “and” or “but). The proverb may be interpreted as a comforting reminder of God’s nearness and sovereignty, a matter-of-fact acknowledgement of human limitations, or, more cynically, as a sigh of resignation (cf. 20:24; Jer 10:23).[1]
So, how am I going to take this verse as a guide to the new year? A sigh of resignation may be appropriate at times, but I think it would be better for me to take this proverb as a reminder of God’s nearness and sovereignty and as an acknowledgement of my limitations.
If I acknowledge my limitations, that will help me not to have to be so perfect all the time. Frankly, my progress is impeded much more by my desire for perfection, than by my obvious imperfections. It has been said that “the good is the enemy of the best.” Yes, I suppose that is true. However, for me at least, there is another, even more important truth: The perfect that I can’t achieve is the enemy of the good that I can achieve. If I accept my limitations, that does not take away my drive to be better. Quite the contrary! It is accepting my limitations that empowers me to do well.
And, of course, being reminded of God’s nearness and sovereignty helps to counter my tendency to worry and want to control. There is an old story that goes something like this: “Good morning! This is God. I will not need your help today. So relax and have a nice day!”
Might work! And what
works for one day probably would work for the entire year of 2020 as well.
[1] Christine Roy Yoder, Proverbs, Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries (Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), 184.
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