Armstrong, Livestrong, Die Stronger

Lance. Big surprise? Um, No.

Baseball: Bonds, Sosa, McGwire, Canseco, Petite, A-Rod, Clemens, their mothers, and their dogs.
Football: Spygate, Bounty Hunting, Brett Favre's cellular indiscretion, Vick and the aforementioned HGH dogs .
Golf: Tiger.
Basketball.
This guy

(ps. government too!)

As earth orbits the sun, so do professional athletes orbit scandal--they cannot elude its inescapable gravitational pull. Don't believe me? Watch Sportscenter for a week.

But now that performance enhancing drugs have since devoured Floyd Landis and latched their tentacles around cycling's golden boy, the public reaction has taken on a particular flavor. The public has taken two distinct sides. The Armstrong's cry fraudulent disqualification, the Livestrong's proclaim result-driven qualification. Neither will suffice. In times of blatant failure (defiant in Lance's case), only dying stronger than you "armstrong" or "livestrong" will suffice.

Armstrong
Public outrage is climaxing at this point. After years and years of scathing, indignant refutation, Lance finally admitted to what he so vehemently denied for at least a decade. As with the rest of our athletes who have fallen so far off the pedestal we insist on elevating them to, Lance's heart has proved to be black. And the public is ready to exile him. Strip the jerseys! Remove the medals! Exterminate the awards! Impeach him from his nonprofit! CONDEMN HIM. Rick Reilly, an ESPN sports columnist and close friend of Armstrong who defended Lance the past decade, outright rejects Lance's personal apology and condemns him by publicly and permanently burning the bridge they so freely traversed in the past. "It does not matter what he's done," the Armstrong's say. "On the inside he's a liar and a cheat, and he's disqualified!"

Livestrong
In the midst of disqualifying accusations, there's a murmuring of those who say, "Hold on a sec, he still qualifies. Look what he's done for cancer. Look what he's done for the sport. He's been such an inspiration!" One tweet reads, "Beat cancer, raise millions of dollars for cancer research, bring back a dead sport, then judge Lance #Armstrong. People piss me off." 55 million wristbands! Millions and millions of dollars for research! "It doesn't matter what he's like on the inside," the Livestrong's say. "It's the external that qualifies this man! Look at all he's done!"

Here's the problem: According to the public, Lance has fallen so far and so fast that there is absolutely nothing he can do to rid him of this permanent and career-wrecking stain. The internal condemnation is thick and heavy and it is not going anywhere. Additionally, the external can clearly do no good in transforming the internal. Lance ran his Livestrong campaign brilliantly while doping with EPO for all 7 Tour de France victories. Polished and sparkly outside, moral decay inside. The yellow wrist band I bought in 4th grade can't change Lance's heart. At least everyone thought I was cool.

So it seems that when we judge others and ourselves, we go one of two options:

1. We recognize we don't measure up. We see that we're total failures. We drown in the cesspools of guilt created by our moral failure. We convince ourselves that we are unlovable. We collapse under the weight of condemnation, and cling to anything we can get our hands on in a vain attempt to pawn off the perpetual weight of ongoing failure. When we find out others are just as bad or even worse than us (based on our own faulty perception of morality), we make sure we drag others down with us. With an undeserved pat on the shoulder and a fake fleeting smile, we leap frog ourselves up a rung on the moral ladder. "At least I'm not as bad as Lance! He's horrible! I'd never do that!"

2. We think we do measure up. We fight and claw for a pristine moral portfolio to present to God and to others, and insist that they accept us. The external justifies the internal. "I'm a pretty good person. I don't lie, cheat or steal. I'm not a murderer or a rapist." When others are caught in a scandal (especially in a scandal we ourselves could be guilty of), we fight for their external records. We do this because by fighting for their external qualifications, we're actually fighting for our own.

Die Stronger
There's always a 3rd way isn't there? Scripture doesn't leave us with either of these options. Road blocks both ways. The Bible tells us to ditch ourselves entirely. Death to self, life in Christ. The imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ simultaneously rescues us from our self-loathing, and deflates the limp balloon of our self-righteousness. Christ forbids our despair and scoffs at our efforts to measure up. There are no options of self left.

"For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him" (Romans 6:5-8) 

We ask frenetically with word and deed our entire lives, "How do I qualify??" As my friend answers, "Know you don't." As Tim Keller says, "The gospel is this: we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope."

It is time to decisively push off shore from our tit-for-tat legalism and self-atoning that has been unfortunately familiar to us our entire lives. We don't sulk in abject despair. Nor do we run the unending race of moral manipulation. We fling ourselves overboard the USS Self entirely, and cling to the only Vessel capable of navigating the tempestuous seas of despair, confusion, desperation, frustration, pain, disappointment, anxiety, fear, sin, and death. The liberating power of the gospel is that our qualification no longer has anything to do with us. Our spiritual portfolios are filled with the riches of Christ. We're invited to joyfully jump off the cliff of safe moralism. The world says it's death. They're playing it safe. Risk is good. Jump. Christ is all. "Hallelujah, all I have is Christ. Hallelujah, Jesus is my life."

Calvary's Anthem

Heavenly Father,
Though hast led me singing to the cross
Where I fling down all my burdens and see them vanish,
Where my mountains of guilt are leveled to a plain,
Where my sins disappear, though they are the greatest that exist,
and are more in number than the grains of fine sand;

For there is power in the blood of Calvary to destroy sins more than can be counted, even by one from the choir of heaven.
Thou hast given me a hill-side spring that washes clear and white, and I go as a sinner to its waters, bathing without hindrance in its crystal streams.
At the cross there is free forgiveness for poor and meek ones,
And ample blessings that last forever;
The blood of the Lamb is like a great river of infinite grace with never any diminishing of its fullness as thirsty ones without number drink of it.

-an excerpt from The Valley of Vision

The Father's Cup (Good Friday)

The Father's Cup (Good Friday)

If anything scroll to the bottom starting at "The Father speaks..."

Praise Jesus.

Heart Melting Grace

Dane Ortlund quoted in Tullian Tchividjian's Jesus Plus Nothing Equals Everything ...

In response to a writer who voices concern about the lack of emphasis on personal holiness and radical obedience, Dane shows how there are two ways to address it...

"One way is to balance gospel grace with exhortations to holiness, as if both need equal air time lest we fall into legalism on one side (neglecting grace) or antinomianism on the other (neglecting holiness). The other way, which I believe is the right and biblical way, is to so startle this restraint-free culture with the gospel of free justification that the functional justifications of human approval, moral performance, sexual indulgence, or big bank accounts begin to lose their vice-like grip on human hearts, and their emptiness is exposed in all its fraudulence. It sounds backward, but the path to holiness is through (not beyond) the grace of the gospel, because only undeserved grace can truly melt and transform the heart. The solution to restraint-free immorality is not morality. The solution to immorality is the free grace of God--grace so free that it will be (mis)heard by some as a license to sin with impunity. The route by which the New Testament exhorts radical obedience is not by tempering grace but by driving it home all the more deeply. Let's pursue holiness. And let's pursue it centrally through enjoying the gospel, the same gospel that got us in and the same gospel that liberates us afresh each day (1 Cor. 15:1-2; Gal. 2:14; Col. 1:23; 2:6). As G.C. Berkouwer wisely remarked, "the heart of sanctification is the life which feeds on justification."

Luther on Romans 3:21-26

"Here therefore is the sermon of sermons and the wisdom of heaven; in order that we may believe that our righteousness and salvation and comfort come to us from outside; in order that we may believe that, though in us dwells naught but sin an unrighteousness and folly, we are, nevertheless, acceptable before God, righteous and holy and wise"

24 Minute Gospel IV

Here

Humble Meekness, Unconquerable Confidence

Romans 1:1a "Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle..."


The recognizable pattern in Paul's epistolary introduction sets forth a two-fold identity. Paul calls himself both servant of Christ Jesus and apostle. What are the differences between the two? How do they cooperate?

First, servant of Christ Jesus, also could be translated "slave." Paul primarily points to his fortified identity in Christ. It indicates a sense of personal devotion and exclusive commitment

Second, an apostle. This indicates an outward, expansive identity--a missional focus. Paul identifies his authority as equal to the 12 apostles chosen by Christ who established and governed the church, and preached the word of God to the Jews and Gentiles.

Therefore, this two-fold identity establishes two distinct tracks which merge into a missional, gospel centered helix. The vertical indicatives of the gospel call Paul into servanthood to Christ. The horizontal imperatives of the gospel drive Paul out into servanthood for the Church and the world. The vertical indicatives inspire humble meekness--that a gospel suppressing sinner would still be welcomed into the family of God by the blood of Jesus. As that truth is massaged into our bones, the horizontal imperatives joyfully send us out to the world with an unconquerable confidence in Christ.

Paul is a perfect example of this! Look at 1:14-16...

14: "I am under obligation"
15: "So I am eager to preach the gospel to you"
16: "For I am not ashamed"


Obliged, joyful, not ashamed. That is one potent trifecta.

Growth

"The hard work of Christian growth, therefore, is to think less of ourselves and our performance and more of  Jesus and his performance for us. Ironically, when we focus mostly on our need to get better, we actually get worse. We become neurotic and self absorbed. Preoccupation with our effort instead of with God's effort for us makes us increasingly self-centered and morbidly introspective

Again, think of it this way: sanctification is the daily hard work of going back to the reality of our justification. it's going back to the certainty of our objectivity secured pardon in Christ and hitting the refresh button a thousand times a day. Or, as Martin Luther so aptly put it in his Lectures on Romans, "To progress is always to begin again." Real spiritual progress, in other words, requires a daily going backwards."

-Jesus + Nothing = Everything p. 95

Religion vs. Gospel

Forever Forgiven

From Sam Storms' meditations on Colossians, The Hope of Glory...#20, p.72...

"God has taken your sin and placed it out of sight behind his back. All he sees now when he sees you is the blessed righteousness of his own dear Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. Such is the love of forgiveness.

Still not good enough? Still not convinced? Still afraid that your sins will do you in? Then pay close attention to the word of the prophet Micah...He has something important to say about the kind of God we have:

 "Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over transgression for the remnant of his inheritance? He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in steadfast love. He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities under foot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea" (Mic. 7:18-19).

How much more graphic do you demand God to be before you enter into the joy of his forgiving love? All vestige of condemning guilt is gone. Again, "just as God said he put our sins behind his back, so here he says he will hurl them into the depths of the sea. They will not 'fall overboard' ; God will hurl them into the depths. he wants them to be lost forever, because he has fully dealt with them in his Son, Jesus Christ."

Praise Jesus for Romans 8

Just Then I Saw a Man Dressed in White

HT: Thabiti Anyabwile

No Fishing Allowed

Per Tucci and Lawrenz ... thanks for reposting this fellas. Awesome. Get back here for Egg Harbor and 2v2. I got the new Droses. Get wrecked.

Tullian:

"What the Pharisee, the prostitute, and everyone in between, need to remember every day is that Christ offers forgiveness full and free from both our self-righteous goodness and our unrighteous badness. This is the hardest thing for us to believe as Christians. We think it’s a mark of spiritual maturity to hang onto our guilt and shame. We’ve sickly concluded that the worse we feel, the better we actually are. The declaration of Psalm 103:12 is the most difficult for us to grasp and embrace: “As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” To be convinced in our hearts, said Martin Luther, “that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.” Or, as Corrie ten Boom once said, “God takes our sins—the past, present, and future—and dumps them in the sea and puts up a sign that says ‘No Fishing allowed.’” This seems too good to be true…it can’t be that simple, that easy, that real!

It is true! No strings attached. No but’s. No conditions. No need for balance. If you are a Christian, you are right now under the completely sufficient imputed righteousness of Christ. Your pardon is full and final. In Christ, you’re forgiven. You’re clean. It is finished."

Stott: The Heart of the Cross of Christ

"Moved by the perfection of his holy love, God in Christ substituted himself for us sinners."

Well, This is Awesome.

Strawberry-Rhubarb Theology: The Gateway Gospel vs. the Pathway Gospel: When Jesus told his disciples that he himself was 'the way' (John 14:6), he meant not just 'direction' in some general sense (though not les...

Beauty in Pursuit

From an anthropocentric standpoint, all of life is entirely comprised of man's unending pursuit of beauty. Now whatever one considers beautiful is the object, the goal, the practical fulfillment of the individual's conceptual notion of beauty. This repetitive pattern unswervingly climaxes with dissatisfaction. As descendants of Adam, we have the pestering propensity to satiate our demanding desire with anything and everything worldly.

Our problem is we don't dig deep enough. Our shallow surmisings fall drastically short of the Agent required to fulfill them. The objects we beautify are all but permanent and satisfactory. Nature, as we have recently seen, isn't always stagnant or yearning to be beheld. Love? I think we can all agree on this one. Love is not all you need. Success? hmmm... fill in the blank. The list goes on.

The familiar Lewis quote rings true...

"If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world"

So it seems as if we've been drinking out of sin-tainted stagnant waters, and expecting that algae bacteria ridden cesspool to provide life and fulfillment--when what we really need is the pure, enlivening, sustaining, invigorating, living water from the source. What if the Beauty--the true Beauty--the source of absolute fulfillment and Provider of soul-satisfying rest...pursued us?

From a theocentric standpoint, all of life is entirely comprised of enjoying God's relentless pursuit of rebels who insist on slurping from sediment-saturated streams. This is accomplished through Jesus--The author, very essence, and true satisfier of our deepest longings for beauty. Jesus wakes us from our deadness--lifts our head from the muddied waters--sometimes a tap on the shoulder, sometimes by the nape of the neck, and lovingly whisks us to the Father, the source of living water.

Psalm 42- "As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God."

'As Utterly as Straw From Fire'

"Thus, taking a body like our own, because all our bodies were liable to the corruption of death, He surrendered His body to death and in place of all, and offered it to the Father. This He did out of sheer love for us, so that in His death all might die, and the law of death thereby be abolished because, when he had fulfilled in His body that for which it was appointed, it was thereafter voided of its power for men. This He did that He might turn again to incorruption men who had turned back to corruption, and make them alive through death by the appropriation of His body and by the grace of his resurrection. Thus he would make death to disappear from them as utterly as straw from fire...For by the sacrifice of His own body, He did two things: He put an end to the law of death which barred our way; and He made a new beginning of life for us, by giving us the hope of resurrection."

St. Athanasius, On The Incarnation, p.34,37

"The Cry Of Dereliction On The Cross"

"At last silence fell and darkness came--darkness perhaps because no eye should see, and silence because no tongue could tell, the anguish of soul that the sinless Savior now endured. 'At the birth of the Son of God,' Douglas Webster has written, 'there was brightness at midnight; at the death of the Son of God there was darkness at noon.'"

The Cross of Christ, John Stott. p.80-81

Identity, Idolatry, and the Gospel (part 1)

The following is a two part post looking at the nature of the human heart and how it intersects with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jeremiah will take the first part. Jeremiah is an unbelievably perceptive, analytical individual. He understands cultures and their particular tendencies, and what that tells us about humanity and the gospel. He’ll take the first part, and I’ll take the second. This is ultimately the written record of a wonderful conversation (among many) Jeremiah and I had in Caesarea. 

Jeremiah Lepasana

I’ve always found greatness fascinating. As a kid it made watching Jordan can’t miss events, and studying successful wartime presidents fun to research. At times, it even gave me an unhealthy curiosity for examples of greatness-gone-bad in the stories of Hitler and Pablo Escobar. Ambitious people are intriguing. They are dominant, and more often than not, ruthless. If you don’t believe me, just listen to Jordan’s Hall of Fame speech. Erik and I were talking about it the other day during an extended walk/hike. It’s crazy. Jordan could not help but give a verbal beating to all the people he already humiliated during his career.  He just gives beating after beating. It’s too amusing.

Here’s where I explain why this all matters. On this trip we’ve been running into countless of names and figures that at one point on another shaped history. You’re thinking, “right, no big deal, you’re on a history trip.” But let me tell you about one particularly intriguing personality, whose contributions to the Israeli landscape not only helps students better understand the story of Scripture, but also whose personal ambitions help me better understand myself.

Waves breaking over the barrier wall at Caesarea

The man’s name is Herod the Great. He was alive for parts of the 1st Century on both sides of 0 (meaning both BC and AD) and he built these incredible structures. Last week we visited the crown jewel of his desert fortresses at Masada. The thing was impressive, and totally unnecessary. He built it in the middle of the wilderness where there’s hardly any water. It’s right next to the Dead Sea. Our professor described the place as one of the most inhospitable places on Earth. I’m guessing it’s either because of the unusually high salt content in the water, or maybe because of the insane drop in elevation that makes sets it on the lowers point on the earth’s surface. Either way, there are some serious geographical difficulties.

It’s almost like Herod picked the most difficult project he could find just to make a statement. You don’t do that unless you have a lot of confidence. Like the kid at the local basketball courts who went out of his way to pick the two nerdiest kids to complete his three-person squad, just so there would be no discussion about who best was when they won. You hated the fact that he did that, but couldn’t help but be impressed at the same time, because he would win everytime. Herod had it like that. He was the king of Judea, and anytime he entertained people from Rome, he had food from Naples imported to the wilderness, just because he could. And he stomped on people in order to make it happen.

We visited five or so sites Herod built, and all of them seemed like they would have been remarkable. Aside from Megiddo, he built the Jews a lavish temple, his mother a winter palace complete with gardens and pools (also in the wilderness), and countless other temples for other deities. But at each place we visited only ruins were left. Our prof had to tell us to use our imaginations. On top of that, people hated the guy, so pleasant stories aren’t exactly told about him. Only piles of rock are left to speak for the legacy he hoped to build. They say when his death was nearing, he had popular Jewish leaders put in prison to be killed at the time of his death so that genuine mourning would take place when he died. Nothing he tried to build stuck.  Instead of story of massive accomplishment that is the story told of him. That can’t be greatness, but if not that, then what? Or maybe the better question is who? What force of nature from the 1st century still dominates conversation in the way Herod hoped to? Yesterday, we found the answer in a squatty town in northern Israel. We met Jesus.

The Person and Work of Jesus (Part 2)

Ok, so there’s a lot going on here in Mark 5. It would be helpful to reread the passage in part 1 to fully grasp this, because I’ll be walking through it step by step. What we ultimately find in this passage is two-fold: who Jesus is and what he came to do. The person and work of Jesus.

At an aerial view we see Jesus interacting in two situations. At first, Jairus, anxious and frenetic, begs Jesus to attend to his young daughter who is at the point of death. Jesus complies, and a great crowd follows him. Now, it is very apparent that Jairus’ daughter is closer to death with every second. At this point, the second interaction interrupts the first. As Jesus is on his way to Jairus’ house, a woman in the crowd reaches out and touches his garment.

As verses 25-26 state, this woman suffered much for 12 years from an unnatural discharge of blood. Here’s where ancient Jewish cultural context comes into play. On account of this woman’s condition, she was considered ceremonially unclean. She was not permitted to enter the temple section reserved for women, nor was she permitted to even be in public without blatantly announcing that she was, indeed, unclean. After all, no one wanted to be associated with a woman like this in fear of becoming unclean themselves. She was the epitome of a social pariah in the time and culture that Jesus entered into.

Sunset over the Sea of Galilee

Why should Jesus even stop?! The little girl is dying! Keep moving right? But no, he stops. At this point the entire crowd would think he’s crazy. He risks the life of Jairus’ little girl to simply find out who touched him within a huge crowd? But that’s exactly it—she touched him, and she was immediately healed. According to law, by touching Jesus’ garment, she technically renders him ceremonially unclean. By stopping, Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s taking this opportunity, knowing he will eventually save Jairus’ daughter, to completely flip the culture on its head. Jesus is taking the opportunity to send a thunderous message throughout the entire region that he is unlike anyone they had ever seen before.

Jesus turns and asks who touched him. He knew who touched him. It was because of his knowledge of who touched him that he asked! As soon as the woman came forward from the crowd, the rest of the followers were outraged. How could she, a ceremonially unclean woman, touch Jesus, this emerging spiritual leader (as far as they knew)? This was a massive offense! The crowd would expect Jesus to be revolted at this point. But he’s not. He’s unlike anyone they have ever seen before. He’s unlike anyone we have ever seen before.

Instead, Jesus accepts her, welcomes her, interacts with her, something she wouldn’t have experienced from anyone in twelve years. This interaction climaxes with Jesus’ radical statement of, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.” Why’s he bringing faith into it? Well, because Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. By noting the woman’s faith, Jesus is implying that her physical healing was an indication of the much deeper healing of sin.

So, we see now a little more of the person and work of Jesus in this first interaction. By healing the woman of her spiritual disease, we see that Jesus’ offering of grace, forgiveness, mercy, and healing is infinitely greater than our capabilities of sickness through sin. And in a culture that demands perfection, Jesus welcomes us in the midst of our inevitable imperfection.

Immediately after—the text actually says, “while he was still speaking”—it is reported that Jairus’ daughter is already dead. It seems as if Jesus’ pit stop has cost Jairus the life of his little girl. Yet, Jesus, overhearing the news responds, “Do not fear, only believe.” Jesus enters the house. People are weeping and wailing loudly. But Jesus comes in, completely calm and composed, and says, “The child is not dead but sleeping.” Wait, what? I mean dead is dead right? The people crying seem to think so too. They confirmed the child’s death. They laughed at Jesus’ assessment. Why would Jesus say she’s merely asleep? The answer is in what Jesus does next.

He sits beside the girl and says, “Talitha koum.” Talitha can be translated to “little girl,” as you see in the text, but we lose some of the meaning there. As Tim Keller mentions in his book Kings Cross, “talitha” is more of a term of endearment, a pet name. Like a father or mother waking their child up for school in the morning. Another translation for talitha could be “honey.” The second word Jesus says is koum, which means “arise.” Jesus says, “honey, its time to get up.” And she does.

Here we see another action that would render Jesus ceremonially unclean in that culture—touching a dead person. Yet, instead of the death of the girl being transmitted to Jesus, the life of Jesus is transmitted to the girl. Ultimately, Jesus conquering death over this little girl foreshadows his own experience with death at the cross.

 Keller comments on Jesus’ own experience overcoming death. “Jesus is saying by his actions, ‘if I have you by the hand, death is nothing but sleep.’ There’s nothing more frightening for a little child than to lose the hand of the parent in a crowd or in the dark, but that is nothing compared to Jesus’ loss. He lost his Father’s hand to the cross. He went into the tomb so that we could be raised out of it. He lost hold of his Father’s hand so we could know that once he has us by the hand, he will never, ever, forsake us.”

Through Mark 5, we see the grace-laden picture of the person and work of Jesus. We see his person—the Son of God, patient, sovereign, confident, healing, sacrificial. And we see glimpses of his work—staring the most dominant, relentless, inexorable enemy of the human race—death—in the face, and overcoming it. This is ultimately displayed at the cross, where Jesus, perfectly clean and acceptable in the eyes of the Father, absorbed our ultimate uncleanliness—death, so that his perfection may be imputed to the filthiest of sinners. You and me. Because of Jesus, we are perfect in the sight of our gracious Father, and welcomed into eternal, everlasting peace in his presence. Arise, for you are merely asleep.