Death and Hope

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.
~1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

With my grandfather's passing today, it is tempting to fall into the shadow, to hang my head and play the part of the tragedy. But this is not the reality. The truth that takes my breath away is that I have a loving Father who has chosen to walk me and those I love through these trials this year, and somehow He has a divine plan and roles for us to play in all of this. I do not see the tapestry as a whole, but I see enough of the weaving to know that this is not random or some unfortunate chance. Rather, these coarse threads are being run by the Master Artisan who is creating a texture which will bring Him the utmost glory.

When shadows fall on us / We will not fear / We will remember / When darkness falls on us / We will not fear / We will remember / When all seems lost / When we're thrown and we're tossed / We'll remember the cost / We're resting in the shadow of the cross
~"Shadows" by David Crowder Band

This life is not all there is. If it was, then we who hope in the resurrection would be most pitiable, as Paul said. But such is not the case. This is the dream--we have yet to awake.

For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality. But when this perishable will have put on the imperishable, and this mortal will have put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law; but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
~1 Corinthians 15:53-57

I asked a dear friend last night for advice on how I should respond to some exhaustion I was feeling (before I learned today of my grandfather's death). The first option seemed to be to seek solace, as Jesus said to His disciples in Mark 6:31, "Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while." And the second was to draw deeply on the Lord's strength to pour out further, beyond what I feel I have to give. Last night, I found respite in journaling. Today, the Lord has given me the opportunity to let His power show in my weakness. May Christ be evident in the hours and days that follow.

I remember when / I stumbled in the wind / You heard my cry / You raised me up again / My strength is almost gone / How can I carry on / If I can't find You? / As the thunder rolls / I barely hear You whisper through the rain / "I'm with you" / And as Your mercy falls / I raise my hands and praise the God who gives / And takes away
~"Praise You In This Storm" by Casting Crowns

My God, You have been so good to me. Your love washes over me. Your grace surrounds me. In Jesus, I have all righteousness in spite of my own wretchedness. In Him, I am Your son with an immeasurable and unending inheritance in Your presence. If this storm never ends, let me stand firmly on the rock of my salvation, and let Your name be glorified.

"Weakness In Witnessing" by Prof. Grant Horner

From The Master's Current, a publication of The Master's College:

Like so many other things in the world of evangelical Christianity, ideas about evangelism are often driven by trends, fads, and over-hyped systems or programs. It seems that every three years or so some new idea about how to reach people with the gospel sweeps through churches and conferences, spawning books, seminars, websites, and new varieties of outreach ministries. Many of these movements are identified with specific ministry personalities: "Have you read so-and-so's new book on evangelism?" Before long these methodologies grow into cottage industries, with a marketing tagline, slick presentation, and product roll-out.

This is not to say that these ideas and systems are necessarily bad. I've learned from them myself, although, as you can probably tell, I'm not a big fan of "packaged-product" ministry. Like everything else, one must exercise biblical-critical discernment when evaluating any ideas, including (and perhaps especially) those with direct theological content.

Where does our desire for these "evangelistic techniques" come from? We would all like to be liked, accepted, even popular; none of us enjoys rejection. But the gospel is always a scandal when presented accurately. The cross is an offense because it is an affront. It is an insult to every belief we cling to that tells us we are good (the most desperately misbelieved lie we all tell ourselves). The cross dismantles philosophies and destroys religion. It eviscerates mere mortality and it demolishes rebellion. The gospel requires surrender with no terms for negotiation. You cannot argue with the cross: your options are spit on it, or die on it.

Thus, presenting the gospel to a lost soul is the most exhilarating of propositions: it is the harshest of attacks ("you are a sinner") while being the most merciful of rescues ("but God can save you"). It must be both to be authentic; and therefore it is inherently risky. It can be frightening.

I was once up on a sizeable cliff in Southern California on a lovely fall afternoon with three of my regular rock-climbing partners, all unbelievers, and all very successful men. One is a top cosmetic surgeon, one a very well-off international businessman, and another a famous professor at CalTech. I was seventy feet above them, leading the climb, and I heard them in a friendly debate down below--something involving me, actually. Several snippets drifted upwards, including "Don't bait him, don't bait him!" This was followed by my CalTech friend saying, "No--there's no way he believes that, he's educated!" Then the question floated up: "Grant, where did the world come from?" I called back down that God, according to the Bible--which I believed--had made it by speaking, and in just six literal days. My CalTech buddy had lost the bet with my surgeon buddy, and had to take him out that night for a $100 dinner. (Alas, I was not on the invitation list.)

Now, I had established multi-year relationships with all these men, always being open about my Christianity with them, often with the result being just this kind of "friendly" three-on-one antagonism directed my way. But I've never allowed their opinions of my faith to interfere with either my openness or our friendship. I shared my own struggles, doubts, and curiosity. I may be the only Christian they will ever know closely. And what do I have to fear? They're just men, like me, or at least before I was saved by God's grace in February of 1983.

So why was I not afraid to be open about my wacky views with my friends, and others as opportunity afforded? Not because I am bold. By nature I have always been shy, timid, retiring, and quiet. My classroom teaching and pulpit preaching personae are a bit more boisterous at times, but that is my public face before crowds. It is a pedagogical technique, designed to maximize the teaching event. Generally I am very quiet. I am the dullest person at parties, even at my own home. I just sit quietly and observe. As a child I was painfully shy, and I still am with strangers. So how do I avoid fear, or even shyness, when presenting Christianity to my friends and acquaintances?

Simple. I am a strong believer in the sovereignty of God. It is not my job to convert, to win an argument, to gain agreement; it is my job to witness. God is the converter, not me. Thankfully! I couldn't sell ice water to a thirsty man.

Furthermore, I have learned that the key to effective witnessing is authenticity. People can tell a fake. Fake Christianity really smells terrible, too--it may be the worst smell on the planet. But being real and transparent about your own struggles, your own doubts, your own weaknesses, and yes, your own sins--now that will get a listener's attention. In fact, I think a key component missing from most of our evangelistic attempts is a deliberate, unapologetic presentation of ourselves as sinners, no better and no worse in God's eyes, than anyone else. That is when you can really talk about grace to a captive audience.

I deliberately seek out pagan friends to share a significant portion of my time--especially my leisure time. This doesn't mean I engage in activities that shame Christ; it means I go to the people that He loves, and who do not know of His love. And I consciously work hard to fight the natural temptation to present a fake, "spiritual" self--one who does not wrestle with occasional doubts or uncertainties, one who does not suffer temptation, one who is not weak, frail and in desperate need of an infinitely gracious God to keep me on the right path every moment of my days. Because in weakness only am I strong at all.

Did not Christ come in weakness that was true power?

~Professor Grant Horner