There is a place in Luke where Jesus tells his disciples what they must do when a brother sins against them.

Luke 17:4:

“if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent’,’ you must forgive him.”

Most of us believe this, but get a lump in our gut when we think about what that situation might actually look like. How do you forgive someone who continues to wrong you? It’s hard to do. Most of us give people three or four chances before we give up.

But the disciples heard this, recognized how difficult it was and responded to Jesus’ command. It’s telling, isn’t it?

“Increase our faith!”

God has an effect on human beings. The light of his glory is a potent spotlight on the true condition of a man’s soul. God will have the same effect on all mankind, eventually.

Job 42:5-6:

“I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,
   but now my eye sees you;
therefore I despise myself…”

But God is gracious. Some will be able, along with Job, to finish this verse.

Job 42:6:

“…and [I] repent in dust and ashes."

Praise God for his grace in illuminating his Word to his church and allowing us to ‘repent in dust and ashes’ while it is still called “today”.

Growing up Catholic, I’m familiar with the mindset that believes Christians can and do ‘fall out of grace’, so to speak. That if we’ve done something bad enough, we’re in danger of Christ’s sacrifice on our behalf being ineffective. And so there is a need to do some spiritual patch work and yet again seek God’s forgiveness through Christ.

Even in parts of the protestant church where that’s really not the teaching, the mindset still definitely exists (at least on some subtle level).

After all, teaching on post-conversion repentance isn’t really on the top of most church’s list—although teaching vaguely about ‘repentance’ is. So it would seem to me that what we end up with is a whole slew of Christians under the impression that if they’ve screwed up hard enough they’re on the outs. That is until they make things right with some magic prayer of repentance. Although no one can be quite sure what that is so everyone just wings it and hopes they’re getting it right.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating the issue a bit. But for the sake of a point, it’s alright I suppose.

Hebrews 10:11-14 sets things straight:

“every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.”

Christians need to understand that the regeneration, justification, and propitiation brought about by Christ’s death on the cross and delivered through the conduit of our faith, are irrevocable.

Notice the change of tenses in verse 14. Yes, Christians are being sanctified, but we’ve already been perfected (in a way).

Following Jesus’ death, resurrection and ascension, he didn’t go to some library style grace-renewal booth to divvy out renewals to the grace on sinner’s lives. He sat down at the right hand of God because what he’s done is done.

Continual repentance is crucial in a Christians life. But not because if he doesn’t do it, he’s losing his salvation, but because if repentance never comes, he probably never had salvation to begin with. It’s simply something Christians do. It’s who we are. We love God and when it comes to us that we have wronged and offended him, repentance just happens. Like juice coming from an orange when it’s squeezed—If no juice comes out, it’s probably not an orange.

So keep on repenting? Yeah, of course. We just need to do it remembering that Jesus’ work is done and the Father isn’t angry anymore.

I’ve been avoiding this for my own reasons.

To the left is 14 year old Christopher Jones. He died this week. The circumstances surrounding his death are still somewhat of a mystery to me as most of the news articles can’t seem to agree on their story. But regardless, two boys have been arrested in connection with his death. One 14 and the other 16. His death was no accident, but to what degree it seems unclear.

Chris was a intermittent attendee of the Anne Arundel County local church, MACC. But more specifically, in past years, he would occasionally attend the small group which one of my closest friends lead.

This has been a trying few days for the whole community of people connected to Chris. Whether they knew him or not, when a kid is killed, it sends shockwaves through the community. This is absolutely no exception. People have dealt with their grief, confusion and anger in different ways. Some in healthier ways than others—some avoiding the issue all together (I fall primarily into the last group).

The reality is, Chris’ death presents us, me, with my true mortality. Although I never knew Chris, It forces the issue that life, the basic tenants of existing, aren’t guaranteed. And even in their true and incredibly fragile state, I have only barely begun to scratch the surface of understanding them. The delusion of getting this life crumbles quickly when reality can shout louder than the fingers in my ears are able to muffle.

Yesterday my friend who lead the small group called, shaken. He asked whether I thought that all things that happened glorified God. I had to admit that on some level all things must glorify God—although how, I cannot understand. This inability to understand is a great source of struggle for me and for my faith and for my intellect.

God has promised that not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from his will (Matt. 10:29). So, while I cannot even begin to understand Chris’ death, I must believe that there is design in it and no matter how painful that reality may be, it is meant for good and for glory which, one day, hopefully, we’ll be able to understand.

I know that I personally have failed to respond to this situation, and others, in a way that truly glorifies God beyond my basic human functions. And I know that I have failed to uphold brothers as they struggle in the same way. And for this, I pray that there is grace too.

_______

Lord, hear my prayer.

Jesus. I would be a liar if I understood how to come to you in prayer. Although the words maybe true, I would speak as a liar if I rolled a series of God exalting praises off my tongue and told you how righteous you are for your decision to allow (or to cause, I cannot know) Chris’ death. I can’t, in honesty, thank you for this turn of events. So I speak honestly to you, as a loving Father who knows my heart.

God, I’m upset that so many of the people I love have to suffer from the loss of Chris, someone they loved. I’m upset that so much of this life is groping around in the dark wondering what’s next and how to get there. I’m upset that so much of this life is chocked up to ‘faith’, and I’m upset that I have such a difficult time wrapping my hands around ‘faith’ and grace and trust and love.

God, I want to love you. I want to trust you. I want good and glorious things to come from Chris’ death, and God, I want to have faith that it will.

Although I struggle to trust you, I try my best to believe that you are working all things for the good of those who love you. That your plan is better than our plan. That if you have intentioned suffering in our lives, even suffering like the loss of a loved one, it is for our good and your glory. God, in all of those who are suffering now as they grieve for Chris, offer consolation through the life, death and resurrection of your Son, Jesus.

God, I pray for Chris’ family; particularly his mother and father. I pray that you would comfort them. I pray for Chris’ peers, friends, mentors and acquaintances, that you would comfort them. God, I pray for Chris’ assailants, that you would also visit them with comfort. And God, by the blood of your son Jesus, I pray that you would use Chris’ death to prime all of these aforementioned individuals to hear and accept your great Gospel of forgiveness. God, by the blood of Jesus, I pray that you would not allow Chris’ death to be in vain, but that you would bring about saving grace in a great many through it.

God, although I struggle to believe, I affirm that you are good and that you are worthy of our love and our lives. Jesus, prove yourself faithful for all of us whose faith, for whatever reason, is shaking.

Here’s a sentiment from Charles Spurgeon that I found somehow encouraging. It’s from his book All of Grace, in the chapter dealing with despair in religion.

Remember that the man who truly repents is never satisfied with his own repentance. We can no more repent perfectly than we can live perfectly. However pure our tears, there will always be some dirt in them: there will be something to be repented of even in our best repentance.

Spurgeon argues that being unsatisfied with one’s own repentance is evidence in itself that the repentance is true and honest. I suppose my question then is, does the satisfaction that comes from that create an unsolvable paradox? I dunno, I hope not.

Continuing in Tim Keller’s The Prodigal God, he has these thoughts to share:

“To truly become Christians we must also repent of the reasons we ever did anything right. Pharisees only repent of their sins, but Christians repent for the very roots of their righteousness, too. We must learn how to repent of the sin under all our other sins and under all our righteousness–the sin of seeking to be our own savior and lord.”

Could it be that we’ve preached a message because of which our congregations have repented of the acts of their hands, but not the motivations of their heart? It sure would explain a lot.

This morning at church, the pastor at my church began a short series for Advent titled, “The Supremacy of Christ.” He began with Colossians 1:15-16. It goes like this:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.”

The sermon was fantastic. Unfortunately, the preacher did not bring the message expressly back to the fullness of the Gospel, but it was outstanding nonetheless. And, while the preacher did not bring things home, my own heart did.

As I read the words of Colossians, the magnitude of the cross struck afresh. Jesus is the image (“the exact representation”, Hebrews 1:3) of the invisible God. Meaning, the same God who spoke the world into creation in the beginning of Genesis. The same God who flooded the world. The same God who led the Israelites out of Egypt through the Red Sea and into the desert. Jesus is our perfect picture, our exact representation of that God.

Then, not only is he the perfect representation, he’s also the means by which everything—everything—has come into existence. You and me, everything seen and unseen. Felt and unfelt. Known and unknown. Everything, has been created by the means of Jesus.

Then, not only that, but everything, at least in some sense, was created for him. There is nothing that is withheld from Christ, for his glory. It is all for him.

And that God, that very member of the triune God, stepped down, onto earth and died a sinners death. A death on behalf of sinning creatures who, since the beginning, have defamed him and countless times attempt to dethrone him. That is the God, the Christ, the Jesus who hung on the cross for you and for me. The firstborn over all creation, graciously and wonderfully dying a sinners death for love, for righteousness, for justice. To bring about justification, repentance, propitiation, reconciliation and sanctification.

How can we not glorify that Jesus. Let’s ask that question, how?