Lunching with the Enemy

The holidays are a time where spend a great deal of our waking hours with those we love. A lot of these occasions seem to involve eating and maybe rightly so, as it seems that eating together is often associated with a level of intimacy not found between mere associates. Maybe this is why business executives and Hollywood agents are quick to “do lunch”; it’s a tangible sign of inclusiveness.

Inclusiveness, however, doesn’t happen just around the dining room table of our homes. For those of us who are Christians, our Heavenly Father has promised that not only are we part of our own families, we are part of His (Titus 3:7; Ephesians 1:5). Therefore, we get to eat at His banquet table, and share in fellowship with Him (Luke 14:15). This is a common understanding of grace; those of us who were wrong with God get to be made right with Him. However, as in much of Christianity, that which has become common, has perhaps lost its impact. While all the above is true, what is often forgotten is the degree to which we are anathema to God except for Christ’s sacrifice. Getting the privilege to eat at Christ’s table is comparable to the outrage that would occur if President Bush had Osama Bin Laden over for Thanksgiving, except comparably our crimes against a holy God are far worse. (This is not to say that the earthly consequences of our behavior are the same, but the contrast between our sins and God’s holiness is much more pronounced than the same comparison made between sinners.) The shock of such a meal would resound throughout the CNN-world, because we would recognize that a privilege was being given to a man who not only had not earned it, but had earned the exact opposite response. The President would be granting an act of inclusion to somebody whose behavior calls for him to be ostracized. Osama would be accompanying the same seat that the President’s children had sat in, served from the same dishes, and allowed the same access. The fact that we find this absurd, shows us the scandal of God’s grace. For those of us who were enemies of God are now His children (Col. 1:20-21); He has allowed them unprecedented access (Rom. 5:1-3), and shows them favor they can never earn (Eph. 2:8-9). We have become so used to calling ourselves “children of God”, that we forget the affront our adoptions paper must cause in heaven. The enemies have been made kids.

Many of us will gather this holiday season and get together with friends and families out of obligation. Let us not forget that God has no obligation to lunch with us, and yet through faith and repentance, He gives us the privilege anyway.

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Counting Joy

“Count it all joy brothers, when you encounter troubles of various kinds, because you know that the testing of your name produces perseverance.” – James 1:2

I’ve always been a fan of the book of James. Maybe because its topics seemed immediately applicable in my life. Taming the tongue, understanding the intertwining of faith and works, overcoming trials and temptation, these were things I could readily relate to. It may be why my father encouraged me to memorize the entire book during 6th grade. That, or as a result of my dad’s significant wisdom, he realized any adolescent girl could benefit from memorizing passages about taming the tongue.

My affection and familiarity for the book doesn’t prevent me from being surprised by new insights when I read it. It’s like a lasting friendship that still challenges you after years of interaction. I know what the friend is going to say, and yet the words cut anew. James’ ability to convict remains regardless of the passage of time.

Recently, it didn’t require me to read far into the book for this purpose to be achieved. As I was reminded again to count my trials as joy, I realized that maybe this was bigger than I originally anticipated. I also thought that the reason I was to count trials as joy was because it produced perseverance. In other words, I adopted the “no pain, no gain” approach. Sure I didn’t want trials but if I could successfully navigate them, I would be a stronger Christian as a result.

Although I believe the aforementioned to be true, I also believe that I need to view my struggles as joyous for entirely different reasons. Counting my trials as joy means not only recognizing the good that can come to me as a result, but I should count them as joy because of the opportunity that it gives me to make God look good. In other words, when things are tough people expect us to question God, to doubt His goodness, and to be lax in our praise. Trials make us superstars because everyone is watching how we will respond. What better opportunity to demonstrate God’s grace. What better time to reflect His love.

Now I try to look as trials not as hurdles to overcome, but as a finish line to cross. Hurdles are obstacles that I’m trying to avoid; the finish line is marked by celebration. I look at trials as an opportunity to celebrate God and His promises, and thereby as an opportunity to glorify Him. And there’s no greater joy than that.

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