Lent VI: Humility for Service

Dirck_van_Baburen_-_Christ_Washing_the_Apostles_Feet_-_WGA1090

~ Christ Washing the Apostles’ Feet, Dirck van Baburen (1616)

34 And calling the crowd to him with his disciples, he said to them, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 35 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. 36 For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? 37 For what can a man give in return for his soul? 38 For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

~ Mark 8:34-38

The Lord Jesus Christ traded his glory for humility, his satisfaction for suffering, his majesty for servanthood, his transcendence for earthiness. But he did not make himself low merely for the sake of so doing; he did so for our sake. He likewise calls each of us to deny oneself, to bear our own “cross”–in all that word’s polysemous proliferation. The context in Mark 8 suggests that one significant instance of denying ourselves is choosing Christ over worldly gain when the two are in conflict; the related instance of bearing our crosses is submitting to the consequences of the open proclamation of our allegiance to Christ and God’s kingdom in a culture which does not appreciate that. I don’t know about you, but I find this very difficult sometimes, not least because I am afraid of being that clanging symbol in 1 Corinthians 13.

During Lent, the emphasis on self-denial may have the propensity to turn us inward, as we leave off participating in certain activities that are often good but that may sometimes leach our time and energy away from the pursuit of God and godliness. May I humbly suggest, however, that self-denial is not primarily about me (or you)? While such devotional self-reflection is often helpful, self-denial in the Christian sense is bigger than that. Jesus calls us to self-denial for his sake and for the gospel’s sake, which is ultimately for the good of others and the world. Paul expands on this by describing how he humbles himself by taking on the weaknesses or limitations of each group of people he serves, in order that some in each group may thereby receive the gospel and be saved.

19 For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them. 20 To the Jews I became as a Jew… To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law)… 21 To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ)… 22 To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.

~ 1 Corinthians 9:19-22

Later in the same chapter, Paul describes disciplining his body to maintain self-control, but once again, this is not for the sake of that control, but for the sake of others: “lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (v. 27).

Acknowledging our own sin and setting aside things we desire are wise and worthy practices, but they are best when they turn us away from ourselves by increasing our desire for God and increasing our passion for spreading his kingdom–for preaching the gospel, for loving the lost, for serving the needy, for stewarding the world’s resources, for working as a redemptive force in the surrounding culture. In other words, if we take pride in our self-denial, it is nothing but false humility. True humility will lead us to serve others and to proclaim only the one who has humbled himself for us.

The Lord is gracious and merciful,
    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The Lord is good to all,
    and his mercy is over all that he has made.
All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord,
    and all your saints shall bless you!
They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom
    and tell of your power,
to make known to the children of man your mighty deeds,
    and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
    and your dominion endures throughout all generations.

~ Psalm 145: 8-13

 

Re-created

One of the blogs I follow is A Holy Experience (author Ann Voskamp, of One Thousand Gifts). Today, I read this journal post, in which she suggests to her husband that they leave the farm on which they live for a real vacation, and he quietly comes back with the suggestion that they go somewhere where they can serve rather than be served. At the end of the post, she muses on the beautiful ways in which God uses us, broken and insignificant though we are, to bring and become his kingdom.

And sure, we may all want anywhere other than suffering and ashes. But this is a dust-crushed world and Christ didn’t avoid it but chose to come to it. And the Farmer knows it. Why embrace dust and ashes? Because it’s out of dust and ashes, God grows the impossible.

Photo credit: Reigning Wanderer
reigningwanderer.blogspot.com

Because God exchanges dust and ashes for beauty and miracles and He cares so much that He doesn’t care that it’s not fair.

Because God raises whole people out of ashes and He writes mysterious grace in dust, and with Him, dust and spit and muddied things can still help us see.

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Because though you are dust and will return to dust, though everything you know may be burnt to ashes, memory scattered to the wind — there is a God who can re-collect you, remake you, resurrect you and revive you with eternity.

When Lent & Valentine’s Collide 

I’m currently revising a review of Les Misérables (which will be posted here soon – hopefully next week). But Ann’s phrase “and with Him, dust and spit and muddied things can still help us see” is at the crux of my conclusions about the film – a muddied thing, how it can help us to truly see grace, to live it – to be new creations now.

Stay tuned.

Vocation, Justice, and a New Creation | Chesterton House

Vocation, Justice, and a New Creation | Chesterton House

Written by my friend Karl Johnson, this article addresses our need for a doctrine of vocation – why does our work matter before God?

Today, we need the doctrine of vocation as much as ever but for mostly different reasons. Whereas Luther argued that “vocation” ought to include labor, today’s secularized version of the work ethic reduces vocation to nothing but labor. Instead of holding too low a view of work, many students suffer from careerism, associating work not so much with service as with self-fulfillment.

Thinking of our calling as a response to God’s calling also expands the notion of calling to include all of life. “The word vocation is a rich one,” writes our recent guest Steven Garber, “having to address the wholeness of life, the range of relationships and responsibilities. Work, yes, but also families, and neighbors, and citizenship, locally and globally—all of this and more is seen as vocation, that to which I am called as a human being, living my life before the face of God.” Or as Os Guinness puts it in The Call, “everyone, everywhere, and in everything lives the whole of life in response to God’s call.”

Pursuing Holistic Discipleship on Campus | Comment Magazine | Cardus

Pursuing Holistic Discipleship on Campus | Comment Magazine | Cardus

Is it possible to renew Christian scholarship (at both the student and professor levels) as one aspect of holistic discipleship?

Education used to be so much more than a dreary means to a materialistic end. In fact, the university was originally intended to be a place where students came to a better understanding of themselves and God’s created world. That is, universities were founded as places of wonder, exploration, and service…

If Christians are going to find their voice in the academic discussions taking place on campuses today—and across our culture—we’re going to need to re-discover our sense of curiosity, delight, and wonder. And we will need to develop an interest for more than the easy answers or trite sound bites. If Christians really believe that a God bigger than our imaginations holds the universe in being, and accomplishes this through his will executed via a multitude of secondary causes, then we’d better be ready to roll up our sleeves and dig down into the amazingly complex stuff of reality. We must be deeply and passionately curious about the world…

These are the kinds of questions, the sense of inquisitiveness, that can equip a Christian on campus to make one’s faith and discipleship something that takes a place closer to the centre of the academic enterprise on campus—not in ways which baptize the status quo, but in ways which make the Christian faith a constructive conversation partner which seeks to bless and serve the common good, both on campus and throughout the world.