Furnace People Understand

The Furnace

Isaiah 48:10

“Once we have come through the ‘furnace of humiliation,’ desperately, fearfully clinging to Christ for all He is worth, then we are fully equipped to march into somebody else’s furnace.”

You will not be able to handle the Kingdom of God unless you’re walking out of a life of brokenness and humility!

Furnace people will often recognize those without any real and tangible connection with God’s work. There are furnace promises, but many, without truly understanding will walk around in unreality. Often ‘they get religion.’ These are those who land on “the rocky soil.” They become ‘quasi-disciples’ who will do and say things that they really don’t really understand.

But furnace people have a connection to that which is honest and true. The Holy Spirit refuses to give up. These people can’t tolerate anything false or manipulative.  Their own hearts are being transformed by the fire, and it seems only then are qualified to minister God’s grace. Only furnace people can enter. You will know them by their scars.

The Church has a tremendous need for those who have withstood the furnace of humiliation.

After we endure its ugliness and its great evil, we’ll discover that we’re in an altogether different place than when we first started. The Church is waiting for those who went in and then come out on the other side.

Again, the furnace of affliction will have done its work.

I was thinking today about Joseph, and his ordeal, as found in the Book of Genesis chapters 37-50.  He was a rare kind of person. Perhaps, one in a thousand. You may emulate but never exceed his faith. His confidence in the Lord was true and came from his lousy circumstances.

Furnace people have the ability to function gracefully at this particular stage.

Furnace people are sovereignly brought to a place where they can minister the grace of God into desperate situations. We must convince ourselves, that furnace people have a gift.  They have been through the worst.  They may be battered and bruised.  But they still stand.  We must look to those who have become the gracious agents of a loving God.

Our brothers and sisters have carried the Word with wisdom and grace. They come to us, through the fire.

But will we receive them? I hope so.

My hope is that you will personally grasp what God has worked for you. That really is your truest calling.  The things good or bad, that have happened are part of how you’ll understand grace. He waits for you to respond.  Will you come to Him, through the grace you find in flames?

Frequently the most gracious people you’ll ever meet are those who endured God’s furnace.

Malachi 3:3

***

When There’s Too Much Pain

“You have given me many troubles and bad times, but you will give me life again. When I am almost dead, You will keep me alive.”

Psalm 71:20, NCV

“He was despised and forsaken of men, A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”

Isaiah 53:3, NASB


I have never spoken out like this, but my wife and I had a daughter who died in a terribly vicious way–she was stillborn, dead at birth, in November 1999. She was doing great, up to a week before Lynnie’s due date. We knew that in a few days, we would be able to see her– face-to-face. What a joy that was going to be!

But yet that’s not what happened.

Elizabeth Grace Lowe died from strangulation from her own umbilical cord. Nothing could have been done. My wife had noticed a moment of very frantic activity, as Elizabeth fought for her life. We plummeted from ecstatic joy to devastating sorrow in just seconds. It came “out of the blue,” totally unexpected. Who could prepare us?

We were completely undone. 

“For the Lord will not reject forever,
For if He causes grief,
Then He will have compassion
According to Him there is abundant lovingkindness.
For He does not afflict willingly
Or grieve the sons of men.”

Lamentations 3:32-33, NASB

Yes, there can be horrifying pain, but there are also solid promises.

There can be brutal sadness, but there are those specious Psalms. There is a blessing for all those who grieve. This topic deserves far more attention than this simple post. (If you’re in the thick of things, I’m trusting the Holy Spirit will help you to your next step.)

There can be such sorrow in this life, far much more than the human heart can possibly contain. But our Savior has a title (one of many). He is called the “Man of Sorrows.” He is the one who is “on point.” He leads us through such intense hostility and mind-numbing pain. He is there when the switch is flipped on us and it becomes instantly dark. He can’t, won’t, and will not leave you to face your pain alone. He knows.

There are a few things that I want to communicate to you.

These have come out of great darkness. I have tried awfully hard to be a disciple, even though I’m doing the worst job of it. These may be right, or wrong, or just okay–you decide. I don’t really know anymore.

  1. God amazingly takes the full weight of our pain and sorrow (Isa. 45:6-7, NLT). He doesn’t shift the blame or deny His work in the life of people. He’s fully sovereign. (Sometimes we need to adjust our theology.) Maybe it’s hard to trust Him right now–that’s more than understandable. In eternity, I believe, it’ll make perfect sense. Sometimes, we need to wait.
  2. Jesus has fully entered into our sorrows. All that you are feeling right now, He feels. If you feel you are at a minus 10, then He does as well. As you suffer, He is closer than your shadow. He knows us. He feels it all. Please don’t short-circuit over this.
  3. Nothing is ever wasted. We really shouldn’t treat these moments of sorrow as a waste. Have you ever wondered at Jesus’ ‘economy’ after the 5000 were fed?  He assigns value to the leftovers. The disciples pick up their baskets and collect everything again. Nothing will go to waste.  I strongly suspect that His kingdom works this way.
  4. This pain, this sorrow, is the intensive crash course in becoming a person of mercy. You now will always walk with a limp. At times the scars will be quite visible to those who can really see. This pain will become forever a “healed wound,” (but a wound nevertheless). It helps to seek out others who have walked this same path. And yet, to be honest, I don’t think I will ever fully trust a person (or a pastor even) who doesn’t walk with a limp.
  5. You will need (but maybe not accept) the transformation of your suffering into glory. This will take some time, and it almost feels like you’re not progressing at all. I encourage you to re-think each of these simple points. The Holy Spirit may be working, perhaps behind the scenes.
  6. Finally remember this: God is not a monster, stomping on us like a boy crushes ants. He has carried all of our pain and illness. He clearly comes alongside every suffering believer. It is Satan who would suggest to you that God is a Celestial Menace, not worthy of our love. I will be very blunt with you, that idea has to be implicitly rejected. Its origins are truly satanic.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”

Psalm 147:3

“The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me, for the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.”

Isaiah 61:1

“He heals the wounds of every shattered heart.”

Psalm 147:3, TPT
 
I’m pretty much convinced that this post is a bit much for some. But please hold it close, maybe it’ll matter later on? (But I hope not.)
 

“A teardrop on earth summons the King of heaven.”

    Chuck Swindoll

*

 

The Pharisee & the Tax Collector

Luke 18:10-14

 “Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a proud, self-righteous Pharisee, and the other a cheating tax collector. 11 The proud Pharisee ‘prayed’ this prayer: ‘Thank God, I am not a sinner like everyone else, especially like that tax collector over there! For I never cheat, I don’t commit adultery, 12 I go without food twice a week, and I give to God a tenth of everything I earn.’

13 “But the corrupt tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed, but beat upon his chest in sorrow, exclaiming, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ 14 I tell you, this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home forgiven! For the proud shall be humbled, but the humble shall be honored.”

Meet the Pharisee:

I had it all together. I had shaped myself to be the ultimate Pharisee–the Pharisees of the Pharisees. I understood the Law; I could quote whole books, forward and backward. I fasted twice a week, and tithed everything, right down to my herbs and spices. I had it all together.

And I made sure everyone saw my commitment.

I strenuously kept God’s Law. I was consumed by understanding it, I tried to grasp all its nuances and complexity. The 10 commandments were emblazoned on all that I did. I wanted everyone to know that I was one of “the pure ones,” for that was the meaning behind the word Pharisee. I knew that I was pure.

I went to the Temple every day to pray, I stood holy and set apart, standing before a real and holy God. I was always the truest example to the people of Israel. I always stood when I prayed, for I was completely committed to doing all that the Law demanded of me.

One day I saw a wicked man in God’s holy temple. I had to thank God that we were total opposites. He was a tax collector and an evil person. I really was nothing like him. I rejoiced that I had become a true example of a righteous man.

I knew I was righteous, and certainly not at all like that sinful tax collector.

———————-

Meet the Tax Collector:

I didn’t have it all together. I understood this and was horrified that I had become so evil. I came to the Temple, driven by my guilt and shame–no one had to tell me this, for I knew my sin and I was deeply ashamed.

Why I came, I don’t know. I honestly didn’t belong here, and I kept a distance from the front. I guess that’s where I belonged. On the fringes before the Holy One. It seemed now that I was drawn to this place, and I’m still not sure why I came that day.

I knew that I breathed evil and had become evil.

I fell to my knees, and I begged God to forgive me. I saw the Pharisee standing in the presence of God, but I knew I wasn’t at all like him. He was righteous and I knew I was not. Oh, how I wanted God to forgive me for all the sins I had committed.

I must tell you that my spirit was in agony.

“Humble men are very fortunate!” he told them, “for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them. Those who mourn are fortunate! for they shall be comforted. The meek and lowly are fortunate! for the whole wide world belongs to them.

Matthew 5:3-5, LB

Jesus clearly told us who was truly forgiven that day. When we think we have it all together, we’re deceiving ourselves.

Let’s not pretend otherwise, okay.

alaskabibleteacher.com

Art: Eugene Burnand, 1850-1924, litho; Scripture used here is from the Living Bible.

The Forbidden First Stone

“They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”

(John 8:7, NLT)

“None knows the weight of another’s burden.”

-George Herbert

As believers, we must discern motives and false doctrine. We’re to be constantly aware of people and issues that swirl around us–of this, there is no doubt, we mustn’t be ignorant. This is a healthy “discernment.” But we must learn that having discernment isn’t a way that passes out a ‘guilty’ penalty. We are ‘seeing’ things these things–not to pass judgment, but that we might pray clearly and earnestly, and grow into His love for the weak.

But to pass out a guilty sentence is God’s exclusive jurisdiction.

It’s far beyond our ‘pay grade.’ He is the final judge in everything. He judges justly and lovingly. He alone knows and understands everything very clearly. We don’t.

And yet how foolish we are. Do we really have the ability to pronounce a penalty to someone else? Could it be when we decide to throw rocks at certain people we’re in terrible danger of forfeiting our own salvation? “But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt. 6:15.)

We discern, not to pass judgment, but to pray more clearly and effectively. What you see or sense is for the prayer closet, not before a judge’s bench.

(If you have a ‘rock’ in your hand, you are in definite danger.)

“Don’t judge others, or you will be judged. You will be judged in the same way that you judge others, and the amount you give to others will be given to you.

We really don’t have a problem with worldly people. We understand that they are lost in their sins, terribly wrapped up in their own personal darkness, and that should definitely disturb us. We must point to the Blood of Christ that forgives us. We share the good news of true repentance and faith. His Spirit teaches us to be witnesses of His love to everyone we meet.

But in light of this, isn’t strange that almost all of our judgment is somehow directed at other believers! Why?! For some strange reason, it ‘seems,’ we think that we must pronounce guilt and (by doing so) we declare our own “holy” attitude to our place in the Body. In a weird sense, we think we have the supreme calling to condemn someone else’ walk, and by doing so exalt our own!

“The life of faith is a struggle enough in a broken world without us complicating it for other believers.”

–Jake Colsen

It just may come as a shock to some, but it’s extremely difficult to throw stones at someone when we are busy “washing” their feet.

“The nature and end of judgment or sentence must be corrective, never vindictive; it is always for healing, and never for destruction.”

–John Owen

Perhaps when we judge others, we reveal that we don’t understand what ‘real’ discipleship with Jesus is? Somehow it seems, we really aren’t quite grasping the immensity of His grace on guilty people? Do we really understand His profound love for the fallen? “God so loved the World…” Have we had any idea how patient He is with us? Do we doubt His ability to correct others? (These are awfully hard questions.)

“Judge not lest you be judged.” (Jesus’ words really do scare me sometimes.)

Certainly, I intend to confront the darkness. “You are the light, a city set on a hill!” I am His salt and light and I do shine into this dark night. But that is His doing, not mine. I do not generate light on my own. The Bible declares me as ‘self-righteous’ when I try. I am a broken person, who is just starting to understand the scope of my own brokenness and weaknesses. I’m starting to realize I’m not in a position to judge someone else. I’m not quite healed myself yet and I must not think I can point to someone else as being worse than me.

Quite simply, I can’t throw ‘rocks’ at other believers anymore.

I can no longer pass out any condemnation from my own limited understanding. My chief concern right now is to be a humble, earnest Christian who is always ready to forgive those who, in their awful sin and confusion, are hurting others. I’m beginning to see that my calling is to be; a simple servant to my brothers and sisters, nothing more, and nothing less.

The Father is Looking for You

Luke 15:20, ESV

There comes a time when the prodigal stands up–looks around, and then decides he can’t live this way anymore–it’s now time to return home.  But he is no longer a ‘rich man’s son,’ the pig-pen completely crushed that idea.  He returns home, thinking that at least he can be a slave.

The devastated prodigal now understands.

And it’s that which gives him the propulsion to leave the pigs behind, and begin to somehow be received by his father. The trip is a long one, lots of walking, and yes, it’s hard–he’s far from where he’s supposed to be. He is tired, ragged and worn.

But please dear one, you must understand this about Jesus’ parable–the story isn’t so much about the prodigal son, rather I think that the focus should really be on the father. Jesus is teaching us that the love of God is a searching/seeking kind of love, and it cannot be shut down, or go away over time. Not ever.

You see, it is a 24/7/365 day kind of love. Intense and constant.

Think of it like high intensity radar that steadily sweeps over extreme distances, it is always looking, seeking, and it won’t be denied.  The Father is seeking for His sons and daughters.  He intends to find them. If we refuse we will continue to feed pigs, over and over, and we will starve.

He continues to search, even when things get really nasty for the son. He won’t give up.

Jesus is explaining the deep love the Father has for prodigals like us. This story is so revealing, for in it we see that the Father who is running. We must know this about Him. We must internalize it and understand the compassion He has. If we stall in our discipleship it’s often because we don’t grip the awesome depth of His love.

There seems to be very few people who understand a God who runs.

As the prodigal hits bottom he realizes the futility of his choices and yearns to return to the forgiving embrace of his father. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, he makes the long journey back to the home he once took for granted. Little does he know it, behind the scenes, his father has been watching, waiting, and hoping for his return.

And then, in a moment that encapsulates the beauty of unconditional love, the father catches sight of his boy from afar. Without a second thought, the father runs towards him with outstretched arms, his love insisting on forgiveness. His arms reaching through the filth.

Here we see a love that surpasses all human understanding.

Jesus teaches us a different kind of love. It’s not based on achievements or what society says. This love is given to everyone, regardless of their flaws, but in order to have it, they must leave the pigs behind. Sometimes that isn’t always easy. I hate to tell you this, but some will never make the journey home.

This profound depth of His love often leaves us feeling totally doubtful or skeptical.

Our logical minds struggle to grasp how such boundless love can exist, especially when we witness the failings and flaws of human love. Yet, it is precisely because love transcends logic that it is so powerful. It operates on a different plane, bypassing our human limitations and revealing a deeper truth about the nature of God’s infinite compassion.

We’re simply beggers telling other beggers where to find bread.

Let’s speak out boldly of this love that will transform lives. For when we approach Jesus’ parable with a bit more humility and faith, we may just catch a glimpse of its astronomical power and love that will never give up on His sons who are camouflaging themselves as pig farmers.

We shout of the love the Father has for His blundering and wayward children.

If the Church can just keep up with our running God, we will finally understand who He really is. And if we only accept the love of the Father towards prodigals—no matter what the sin—it’s then we will finally understand the ‘white-hot’ love of the Kingdom of Jesus.

And the Church will finally be doing His will in the world.

(Finally.)

Bryan Lowe
alaskabibleteacher.com

Choosing Where to Sit

Luke 14:7-11, ESV

Choose your seat carefully. In Jesus’ day, there was a definite seating order to a wedding feast. It wasn’t first come, first served. There was a strict protocol, where one’s importance mattered. Honored people got honorable seats–close to the front as possible. Average people got average spots; but no one wanted to be at the bottom, having to sit at the “kids table.” 😁

Jesus was watching, and He saw a spiritual truth of his Kingdom.

Often He teaches out of the things we encounter–real life events. Spiritual truth often hits us from those things we actually see. If you want to know what God is doing in your life, all you need to do is look around at the “practical” things, and start to see the spiritual lessons inside them. We learn from real-life. That’s how he often teaches us, he combines the Word with what we’re experiencing.

I suspect that life is a very long lesson in humility.

Our natural inclination is to move higher up. We often think that we’re deserving, and so we take our “rightful” positions. That’s the way humans think. We all want to sit in the best possible place, and so we end up wheedling our way up front. We can fall into the subtle trap of self-promotion. But that’s not how discipleship works.

Humility is totally opposite from the world’s way of thinking.

Jesus corrects, advising us to take the lowest place. I think verse 11 is the key to figuring out this seating arrangement. We’re starting to see a physical situation become a spiritual lesson. There’s much to learn.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled [before others], and he who habitually humbles himself (keeps a realistic self-view) will be exalted.”

Verse 11, Amplified Bible

This translation injects some realism into our lives, especially in how we see ourselves. It’s quite foundational. It lays down a principle that is always true in his Kingdom (1 Peter 5:6). If we don’t accept and implement this, we’ll suffer a definite deficiency in our discipleship. It stunts the growth of many believers. And that is tragic.

The whole scene lays out how life in the spirit really works, and it seems terribly paradoxical.

Our human logic asserts that deliberately choosing the lesser is foolish, things really don’t work that way. We think (falsely) that we’ll only advance by asserting ourselves. But Jesus, quite aptly, clarifies the ways of the Kingdom–true maturity will only come if we decide to take the lowest place.

James 4:10

alaskabibleteacher.com

Am I Ignitable?

 

“Who makes His angels spirits and His ministers a flame of fire.”

Hebrews 1:7

Jim Elliot was a Christian missionary martyred by the Auca Indians of Ecuador in 1956. He was just 29 years old. This quote was found in a journal he kept, and it was found after his death. There’s much here to process.

He makes His ministers a flame of fire.” Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul – short life? … Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.”

Jim Elliot, “Shadow of the Almighty”

A wonderful and intense quote. Passionate. Maybe we should dismantle it and consider what he was trying to say. There are some great insights to be found here.

First, he writes of asking God to be saturated with the oil of the Spirit. Jim Elliot wants to be set on fire with his life, heart, and spirit becoming the fuel.

Second, he writes of “dread asbestos.” Almost 2000 degrees F is needed to melt this down. Now regarded as a carcinogen but because it’s basically fireproof it was used often. For the person walking by faith it illustrates the power of sin.

Third, he writes about the brevity and shortness of his life and his need to live in the bright light of eternity.

O.K. Let’s switch metaphors.

The ponderosa pine needs fire to propagate. Their seeds are fire-activated.

Fire activates the cone that holds the seeds. Looking we see a tight little bundle which is covered in resin. To germinate they must be burned. Fire melts the exterior and the pine cone and releases the seed; and actually they can lay dormant for several years just waiting for the heat.

The believer needs heat to grow.

I don’t think there is any other way. The Word and the Spirit, combined with the heat of the circumstances we face, creates a blaze that is often seen by others. The furnace is God’s way to bring lasting change to His people. I wish it were different.

“They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”’

Walking with Jesus to Emmaus, Luke 24:32

“Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?”

Isaiah 33:14

Leave the Spear in the Wall

And Saul hurled the spear, for he thought, “I will pin David to the wall.” But David evaded him twice.

1 Samuel 18:11, ESV

And Saul sought to pin David to the wall with the spear, but he eluded Saul so that he struck the spear into the wall. And David fled and escaped that night.

Saul’s spear shows up later in David’s life, and it becomes a vital component in his growth as Israel’s next king.

But David doesn’t know that yet. In 1 Samuel 26 we read about David’s second encounter with the spear of Saul.

The scene is in the wilderness and David’s on the run. Now the badlands are a good place to hide as any Western movie knows. I think David had his scouts and I suppose that there were also men who knew every rock and cave in that wasteland. They were hiding from Saul.

“So David and Abishai entered the encampment by night, and there he was—Saul, stretched out asleep at the center of the camp, his spear stuck in the ground near his head, with Abner and the troops sound asleep on all sides.”

1 Samuel 26:7

Sneaking into Saul’s camp was bold and audacious. Saul was sleeping and scripture says that David’s companion desperately wanted to kill Saul, but David refused, David, looking through the darkness lighted on Saul’s spear. Perhaps he remembered back to when Saul tried very hard to kill him.

He avoided that spear a long time ago, and now he escapes it again.

The tables have completely turned. Given a chance to end King Saul’s life, he refused; he would not kill him. When you think about it, many problems would’ve been solved, and David would take his rightful place as Israel’s new king.

But David spiritually understood God’s heart. He understood the spiritual principle of “turning the other cheek” and “loving your enemies.” He overcame with love and kindness. And lots of grace.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Romans 12:21, ESV

The Greek word for “overcome” is νικάω which can be translated as “to conquer or to come forth victorious.” It is also used when someone is arraigned before a court of law but wins the case.

To follow Jesus means you entirely reject using the spear. It’s not for you. Never.

“We win by tenderness. We conquer by forgiveness.”

Frederick W. Robertson

We must leave the spear in the wall. You must not throw it back.

Like David, we are to trust the Father. We’re to be secure in His timing. And yes, we each must use kindness and brokenness to overcome dark things. When you think about it, Jesus also faced evil without defending Himself. The spear showed up again and we see that our Savior allowed it to pierce His side on the cross.

You must leave the spear in the wall.

You mustn’t use the spear when it seems you can wield it at the perfect moment, and like Jesus you need to allow it to save your enemies from their sin.

These three spears are evidence you “have God’s heart.”

Everyone Could See Me

John 8:3-11

Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me. Definitely not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They only put me front and center to test Him.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

God, Have Mercy On Me

Luke 18:9-14

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’”

13 “But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

He despised others. As a Pharisee he prided himself as a holy person; he stood before God and congratulated himself. I believe that self-righteousness has many levels. You can be blatant and obvious about it, or it can be subtle and hidden. But we must understand that the father sees and knows. Notice the “we all” here in Isaiah 64:6

(Hmm. Is that what He sees? A menstrual rag? You got to be kidding!)

We often advance ourselves by demeaning those who struggle hard with their sin–there are those who see and somehow know that they’re superior. We don’t come out and say so; but we’ve arrived— but guess what— God (and scripture) tell us something radically different.

But we’re not dealing here with a hidden self-righteousness. The Pharisee truly believes that he is special. He stands and doesn’t kneel. He feels comfortable and confident in the holy presence of God Almighty. He’s not like the others. He is sure that he’s holy.

Look though, the tax-collector was being brutally honest.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him how sinful he was—he understood his own wickedness. Jesus’ story reveals God’s love for those who know that they’re twisted inside. Notice the heart of the tax-collector:

  • “He stood afar off” which showed his awareness of his separation from God.
  • “He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven,” which declared his humility in the presence of God.
  • He kept “striking his chest,” which tells us of a deep pain over his sin against God.
  • He prayed, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ This describes his desperate heart.

These both came to pray, but that is all they had in common.

The Pharisee came to the temple to show off his righteousness, the tax-collector out of a terrible despair. It strikes me that the text in verse 11 says the Pharisee “began praying to himself.” It seems that his prayer never really met God—he was proud and showy, doing the things God hates (Prov. 29:23).

Things really came obvious in verse 14. That’s the critical point of the entire story—“one went down to his house justified rather than the other.” Wow! What a statement. One professionally religious man, sure of his holiness, the other a sinful sinner, who came humble and broken. One showed off his faith—boasting with a legalistic swagger. The other desperate and desolate, completely undone.

But it was the tax-man who became righteous in the eyes of God.

Humility is the foundation of the kingdom of Jesus. In Matthew 5:3-4 makes a lot of sense—to be “poor in spirit” and to “mourn” are the bedrock of a Christian’s discipleship. To be justified (made right) was a gift. He didn’t try to earn it, and there wasn’t a probationary period. The tax-collector now became righteous; the Pharisee carried his sin.

God wants us to have a broken-heart. He rejects everything else. I suppose that the question is this: Do you mourn over your sin? 

Psalm 34:18

Art by Eugène Burnand