Above anything else, I’m a Christian. More important than any other aspect of my life is that God has given me grace in Jesus Christ. My life, in spite of all its imperfections, can never be the same. For all intents and purposes, I cannot divide my faith in Christ from any other aspect of my life. If my life were water, Jesus would be the spout that delivers it to my glass.In fact, Jesus would be the glass also.

But, along with that comes a challenging tension that I have not yet understood or learned to balance. Though I’ve heard quite a lot of ideas—none really seem to be the whole answer.

See, I am also an artist and a business man (if those two can indeed coexist). My art is photography, and my business is in the wedding and portrait industry. Both of these are highly social in nature. As a photographer, both artistically and professionally, my ‘survival’ relies on making and maintaining connections with people wherever I meet them. If those connections do not exist, neither can my business or my art.

But that is also true of my faith. I am called to be a witness to the world of God’s grace in my life. When I meet someone, speak to someone, engage with someone in virtually any capacity, this fact cannot, does not, escape my mind.

How do these two live in tension with one another? How do I run a business and create art that glorifies God without driving away those with whom I hope to engage? I have yet to hear a simple answer.

  Today, as I sat with friends, I learned for the first time how to use Twitter to grow my business. It’s a remarkable tool that puts you immediately in touch with a vast number of people talking about all kinds of interesting things. Of course, you probably knew that already. I admit, I’m joining the caravan a bit late.

After learning to use the networking tool, it took no time at all for me to discover that, here too, I would face this challenge. A major element of Twitter is simply connecting with people over everyday endeavors. Where you’re going, what you’re doing, who you’re reading.

For me, those things are almost always connected to, if not wrapped up in, my faith. If I use the tool as most do, then I keep a world of potential clients, and more importantly potential believers, at arms length. Much like wearing a t-shirt that says, “Beware, I’m a Christian”. At the end of that day I’m engaging only other Christians and doing business almost exclusively with them.

But, on the flip side, if I don’t vocalize the ins-and-outs of my faith, I essentially deny the very foundation of virtually everything I do.

It’s a conundrum to say the very, very least. I haven’t yet found a satisfying answer to these questions. But I’m eager to hear the thoughts of friends who find their own ways to strike this tension on a personal and professional basis every day.

1 Peter 3:15 is a verse most Christians are relatively familiar with. I’ve written about it too. But what I think Christians are less accustomed to hearing is the end of that verse and the verse that follows it.

1 Peter 3:15-16:

“…In your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.”

It seems to me that many Christians are ready with an answer for the hope they have in Christ, but they’re not ready to give it with gentleness and respect. It seems more often to me that they are given in arrogance and impatience, as though their faith were something entirely of themselves.

Yet the fact of the matter is that if we have faith in Christ it is not because we are somehow superior to those who do not, but because we have received grace thus far to believe.

Of course, this bit in 1 Peter is written to people who would be slanderously accused for their faith and therefore a confident answer was important. And since the accusations would likely be very aggressive, obviously it was important to remind them that they shouldn’t respond with aggression, but with respect and gentleness.

Questions about our faith may not come with the same aggression today as it did then, but I think the exhortation to gentleness and respect stands as just as important.

RC Sproul & Albert Mohler respond to a question about the seeker sensitive church with brilliant clarity and cutting truth. This video is worth watching.

I originally watched this video on the Reformed Theology blog here.

I was reading in Like today and Jesus was asked an interesting question by one of his listeners.

Luke 13:24

"Lord, will those who are saved be few?”

At first reading, I think this seems like a really reasonable question. But upon closer examination, the questioner’s motives become clearer. Jesus’ responds in the following verses:

"Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able. When once the master of the house has risen and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, ‘Lord, open to us,’ then he will answer you, ‘I do not know where you come from.’ “

The questioner wasn’t asking a hollow question. He was reading the back of the lottery card for his chances of winning. He was wondering whether devotion to Jesus would pay off.

Jesus is clear in his answer. He says that the time is now to believe. The question of whether or not many will be saved or few is irrelevant. The question is whether or not he will enter through the narrow gate while there is still time.

There was a Nightline Faceoff over the question of whether or not the devil is real. It featured thinkers from across the spectrum—including Mark Driscoll.

Most of the debate was fine. However, when the microphone was opened for audience participation, it became difficult to listen to. I’ve included a 55 second snippet from a question coming from a young woman, a Christian, in the audience. The question is unimportant. The digression is striking.

Give the clip a listen.
 

The Indian voice is new age philosopher Deepak Chopra—an unbeliever. Yet even still, his question to her is almost shattering.

“Is [Jesus] in so much trouble that you need to rescue him?”

Well, is he?

Tonight while reading, this scripture caught my attention. it did not go and did not became quite clear.

Proverbs 18:1 says:

“He who separates himself seeks his own desire,
     he quarrels against all sound wisdom.”

“Separates himself” from what? The world, from people, from God, from true wisdom? It’s unclear. The varying translations confuse things further and no two commentators seem to agree.

I guess I will wait patiently for this one.

How should we respond to ourselves when we do very stupid things?

I read a book recently that discussed some of the philosophies concerning decision making. The author was discussing the idea that people always make decisions based on their greatest desire—always, without any exceptions. That seems to make sense to me. You figure, when we do things we don’t want to do it’s almost always to the end of either avoiding a less desirable circumstance, or a more desirable reward. When it comes to Christians, it’s a mix of that but also of shifting our desires to match God’s. So theoretically, in any given situation, our greatest desire would be for God, or more specifically, God’s will and so even temporal pleasures or displeasures would fall by the wayside.

Although I reckon there’s more to that discussion than what I’ve just summed up right there, I think the principle is true. And I can clearly see that I exhibit that in my day to day life. Here is the trouble, sometimes when I make decisions it’s obvious that my greatest desire isn’t for God, or his will. It usually isn’t long before I figure out that I’ve acted foolishly and gone off wishing for things of the world instead of God.

And so the question stands. Upon discovering my own foolish desire and subsequent sin, what is the correct response? I know that in an ideal sense, I am to run headlong to the cross. Take my sin and my foolishness to Christ and let him mend the wrongs I’ve committed. His work is already done; I couldn’t add to it, even if I wanted to. It’s for that reason that there can be no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. But that still begs the question what am I to do? If you act as stupid and as often as I do, you’ll know the predicament. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and act very stupidly again, but historically speaking, I likely will. This perplexity stands to stunt my growth in Christ.

Because of this indecision, every moronic step I take sets me back. Despite plenty of fodder directing otherwise, it often takes hours, sometimes even days, to re-approach God in his word or in prayer. In this way, the Catholic practice of penance seems appealing. As if I could somehow work my way back onto God’s good side. Once penance is done, I once again have a right to commune with God. Of course, I know that I never, in and of myself, have a right to commune with God and to think I could work for it is preposterous.

So I’m left without an answer to this question. What is the right thing to do when you’ve acted very stupidly and you know it? I haven’t a clue. But I’m glad that my hope doesn’t hinge on my getting it right.