Tripp begins with this statement:

Corporate worship is designed to keep me humble by reminding me of my need and thankful by reminding me of my gift.

I see two lessons in that one statement about what corporate worship is to teach me:

1. To keep me humble by reminding me of my need.
2. To keep me thankful by reminding me of my gift.

Too often in 2018 culture, corporate worship takes on something more akin to a pep rally.  It is one man trying to convince people to “rally around the Christian flag.” It is a group on the stage trying to rally the troops to loyalty to God. But using Tripp’s words I am reminded of why I worship, of what should be my attitude in worship.

The Scripture in I Cor.1:18-2:5 reinforces that. It is not my place to be persuasive or to speak with lofty speech or my own wisdom. It is not my place to be crafty with words. It is not my place to put on “airs” or to take credit for what I say or what God does. My place is to be humble and to be thankful and trust God to work.

“Father, may I be moved to worship. My humility and gratitude be flowing from within.  May grace be my foundation in all things. Help me as I preach and as I pastor to remember who I am doing this for.”

Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.

Rationalization. Rationalization. Rationalization.

Denial. Denial. Denial.

Excuses. Rationalization. Denial. Three common reactions to sin. My common reactions to my sin. I’m so skilled at it, I even amaze myself.

But reality hits and I conclude (eventually) that what I excuse there is no excuse for. What I rationalize there is no rationale for. What I deny there is no denial for. Sin is sin. Sin is real. There is not magic Disney wand I can wave that will make sin go away. There is no car I can travel through time in that will make my sin any less real. All sin has consequences. All sin has a bite.

But I also know that because my sin is real so is the cross. So is grace. So is Jesus, the Substitute. So is my need for repentance.

“Father, Your Spirit convicts me of my sin; my flesh says, ‘No.’ The cross says, “Here is where your sin dies. here is where your sin was atoned for.” My flesh wants to say no, but my need for grace is greater. Let your Spirit wash over me and cleanse me. Let me not excuse, rationalize or deny my sin OR my need for you.  Instead, let my real sin meet the real grace seen at the real cross and seek your forgiveness. Thank you, Father, for your grace and forgiveness…as real as it ever gets.”

One of the most convicting passages of Scripture is the one found in Jeremiah 2, especially verse 13: “For my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water.”

In all honesty, I know Jeremiah could have written that about me in 2018. God has blessed me in so many ways. I’m humbled He would choose to do that. The strange thing is He does that in spite of the fact that he knows my propensity for idol worship. And yet, He still blesses me. I don’t mean that I set up a shrine, but I do have a tendency to latch onto something and pursue it. Whether it be cycling, working out, reading a particular author, buying and working jigsaw puzzles, being a Titanic enthusiast, or something as seemingly as innocent as buying books for study, I can take a good thing and make it “my thing.” Tripp says it well:

A desire for a good thing becomes a bad thing when that desire becomes a ruling thing.

I have had way too many things which are good replace the affections of my heart for God. I have forsaken God and hewed out cisterns which hold no water. It’s not wrong to desire things which are good-spiritual knowledge, theological knowledge, a comfortable way of life, staying fit-but it is devastating when those desires take over and consume me.

“Father, forgive me for my idols and cisterns which are broken. Forgive me when I take a good desire and make it a ruling one. Help me to worship only You.”

God is holy, but I’m not. Jesus became my righteousness so that I can stand before God, holy in Him.

God is holy, but I’m not. Talk about an understatement! I’m not sure any truer words could be spoken about me and God. There is no comparison. None. It seems like each day I become more aware of my unholiness, my unrighteousness. It’s like David wrote in Psalm 51, “My sin is ever before me.” With hindsight I can look back and see my sin-sin I’ve tried to rationalize; sin I’ve tried to hide; sin I’ve wanted to forget; sin I’ve wanted to bury all the way to China; sin which, in my mind, would want to make God sorry He made me.

But those sins, like all sins, were taken care of at the cross. There is nothing righteous in me (Romans 3:10), BUT in Christ I am made righteous! I was and am made holy, not because of anything in me or I have done, but by the shed blood of Christ. His death would satisfy God’s anger; His resurrection would guarantee my life and salvation.

“Father, thank you. I’m humbled Jesus would go to a cross to atone for my sin. Sin I have tried to forget, rationalize, even try to cover up (bury). Thank you for salvation. Thank you for the resurrection. Thank you for the promise of eternal life. Thank you for hope.”

Several ideas dominate our religious culture and landscape today:

• We can pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. The teaching of Joel and others like him tell us we are good and have it within to better ourselves. Just speak it.
• Sin is not really sin. Let me rephrase that: don’t call it sin. A mistake. A mess-up. A wavering. A poor self-image. But sin? NO
• The lines are being blurred between right and wrong.

As a result (I think) we have a problem between feeling sorry and true confession; between penance and true repentance. The first leads to disappointment in self; the second leads to repentance and righteousness toward God.

There is no way anyone, especially me, is good enough to pull myself up.  To think I can talk myself into better behavior is ludicrous. I know. I’ve tried that. “I’m not going to give in. I’m not going to give in. Today is going to be different. I’m not going to give in. NUTS! I just did!” That’s how it usually goes for me. The only way I can and will change is with God’s help. Even more impactful is the realization that if I could talk myself into not sinning, Jesus would have needed to come and die. Sin needs confession. Confession needs repentance. Repentance needs the cross.

“Father, what a magnificent truth! I need the cross. My sin doesn’t need good feelings or good works or good thoughts. My sin needs erased. Thank you that the cross does just that. Thank you for the eradication of my sin.”

In the ’70s the group America had a song which started, “This is for all the lonely people/Thinking that life has passed them by.” Those two lines about sum it up for many: lonely people who think life has indeed passed them by.

I know people who feel alone. I know people who are in a crowd but feel alone. There are people who feel alone even though they are in the middle of a family celebration. Sure some of it can be depression, but some of it is just…to them…reality. Mistreated. Abused. Slighted. Put down. Trashed verbally. Feeling like an ugly duckling. They live with this feeling of “I don’t matter.”

But in Christ, no one is alone. No one stands by himself. No one is slighted. No one is let down. No one is trashed verbally. No one should feel they don’t matter. BECAUSE IN CHRIST WE ALL MATTER!! No one is ever alone. And I take seriously Tripp’s last statement: “(I need to) remind myself today that, as God’s child, no matter how many people have walked out of my life, fundamental aloneness is a thing of my past.”

“Father, thank you that I’m not alone. Thank you that I matter. Because I matter I am not slighted. I am not put down. I am not shunned. I am not laughed at. I am not given a disgusting grunt. No, on the contrary, I am Yours; I belong to you; and I matter. I am never alone. Because of that my life has meaning and life hasn’t passed me by (as the song says).”

God placed his unshakable love on me.

Let that sink in for a minute or two. That sounds so inviting. So settling. So solid. Especially in today’s world when everything seem so unsettled, so much in an upheaval, it is good to know there is a constant. That constant is Jesus. That constant is the solid hope He gives.

I like what Tripp says: “Hope is a Person and His name is Jesus.”

• He died so I can know real life.
• He is present with me.
• He forgives me.
• He never leaves me or turn His back on me.
• He always responds to me in compassion and righteous justice.
• He never mocks me or throws my sin in my face.
• He never gets tired of me or gives up on me.
• He doesn’t ask me to earn what I can never deserve.
• He never makes me feel guilty for needing his good gifts.

His love isn’t conditional and His grace is never temporary. I also know hope will be realized someday. My hope will find its end, its answer in eternity. I won’t have to hope anymore. I will have met the Hopegiver and be safe.

“Father, these truths stir my soul. They give me…well…hope. So unshakable. So unconditional. So full. So free. ‘My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.’ Be my hope today. Help me not to forget these truths as I go through my day.”

“I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie/That I was the star of that movie.” So goes the lyrics of a dubious song from my high school years. A song I’m not sure really had any meaning. It was morally reprehensible for sure. Anyway… 🙂

I’m currently reading the life of Joseph in my personal reading. I can relate. I was a dreamer. Not quite in his class, but I was nonetheless. 🙂 I was going to play professional baseball.  I was going to play professional basketball.  I was going to preach to thousands. Be the pastor of a big church. I was going to be the older pastor-grizzled but wise-a sage the younger ones would seek out for wisdom. Aaaah yeah. I was a good field/not a good hitter baseball player. I was too skinny with limited ball-handling skills to play professional ball. The preaching and big church gig never happened. Nor has the sage.

My life is little moments. Nothing big. Nothing glamorous. Filled with sin and wrong decisions/bad choices. Filled with arrogance. Pride. Unsolicited advice-giving. SIN. I have had a couple relationships which have lasted; others I have destroyed. I agree with Tripp: Relationships are messy. Relationships take hard work. Relationships are fraught with “me-ism.”

My life, I now realize, is not one big event to the next one. My life is a series of small moments; small decisions; one after another. The significance and direction of my life is the result of those small decisions. “Father, as I consider all of this, I see Your hand.  I see Your hand of wisdom in keeping me small. Of steering my dreams in another direction. I see now in hindsight that you knew best. Let me make the best of what time I have left to serve you. Let me make the small moments count for you.”

There is a saying: “You learn something new every day.” Today is definitely one of those days. I can’t even begin to tell how many times I have read this parable (Luke 18:9-14). Taught it. Preached it.  But each time it has been about the self-righteous arrogance of the Pharisee. Or the humility of the sinner.

Not once have I ever given a thought that it was a prayer saying, “I don’t need you God.” But I can see it. I can also see me. I can see myself in so many ways in this prayer:

• Comparing myself to others (and feeling good about myself spiritually)
• Listing all my good deeds
• Feeling comfortable enough to lose my awe of God
• Believing I am good enough to be there (in His presence).

But even more is to see this is not a prayer at all. It is a commendation list. I.  I.  I. And as he/I spout off all the good deeds, I am basically telling God, “Who needs you anyway? Who needs your grace?”

How long has it been since my prayer brought tears? Pure silence? Repentance? A deep sense of awe and of being undone? Too long I can say that. In fact, I can’t remember the last time.

“Father, bring me to the point where I haven’t been for a long time. May my prayers not exhibit an independence from but dependence upon you. Strip me of any arrogance or pride or dependent streak. Let me be all about You.”

This is one of those devotions which seem rather innocuous…then…BAM! a 2×4 right upside the head. He starts out with a familiar thought which has been expressed plenty of times during this year only in slightly different ways:

I will never find fulfillment of heart on the far side of rebellion. True rest of heart is always found in submission to the Savior.

Fulfillment = rest = submission to the Savior.

Emptiness = distress = my own kingdom/my own way.

I am guilty-perhaps even more so- of falling for the lie of the enemy that fulfillment can be found outside of the Savior. I have- in spite of my best efforts at times- pursued things of this kingdom. Sometimes no matter the cost. Maybe that’s why the real slam is his statement: “Real rest of heart is never found on the other side of the Creator’s boundaries.” I push those boundaries sometimes. Stretching them. Like the dog on a hidden fence. Go to the edge. But I also realize those boundaries are there for my good. I’m not my sovereign; I don’t get to make my own rules. May that which is beyond my boundaries lost its attraction.

“Father, I try to stretch those boundaries. I try to establish my kingdom/my rules. Forgive me for that. Help me to stop trying to find fulfillment and rest outside of you.”