Category Archives: Bible Study

Both book studies and topic studies

Matthew—We Can Stop Inviting Jesus

“‘Then a teacher of the law came to him and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.’ Jesus replied, ‘Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.'” 

“‘Lord,” another of His disciples said, “first let me go bury my father.” But Jesus told him, “Follow Me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” – Matthew 8:19-22

narrow

Jesus was clear that following Him would not be a journey of 5-star hotels, but a narrow gate to a narrow road and most of what we clutch in our hands and our hearts will not fit.

He was equally clear that there is an urgency in the Gospel and no other perceived obligation can come first. To the man’s request that Jesus wait until he tied up his loose ends, Jesus’ answer was no.

But what really caught my eye was the missing invitation.

Neither of the men invited Jesus to be their Lord and Savior. Instead, they each said they would be His follower.

And for some reason, that became meat on a bone for me. A bone that I need to pick with us, the ambassadors for Christ, the disciple-makers, the carriers of the Gospel. So many of us present people with the same message, in varying forms:

“Invite Jesus into your heart/life to be your Lord and Savior, and you will be saved.”

We need to stop presenting the Gospel as though it is our invitation to God.

“Therefore let all the house of Israel know with certainty that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah!” Acts 2:36

Our invitation does not make Him what God has already made Him.

I think the real reason that our invitation to Jesus has become a point of contention for me, is that it feels too much like we are standing on a level playing field with Jesus. Like we have the power over whether or not He is Lord.

“…so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow—of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth—and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2:10-11)

It’s not that the Christians have a Lord, and everyone else doesn’t. Jesus is Lord of all. The question will never be, is He Lord and Savior?, but did we obey the Gospel and receive life? Faith is an act of obedience, not an invitation. (Romans 1:5, 16:26; Romans 10:15-17)

I know what you’re thinking. The invitation gives them a starting point, a way of expressing verbally what is happening in their heart. It’s semantics, really.

Except it isn’t. I cannot find even a theological principle that implies our ability to extend an invitation to the Creator of heaven and earth, for anything. Even our opening the door that He is knocking on is not our invitation to Him, it is our yes to Him. He’s already at the door. No invitation needed. (Revelation 3:20)

Gospel means good news. The good part is not that we can invite Jesus in. It is that He can make us stop being dead.

 And you were dead in your trespasses and sins in which you previously walked according to the ways of this world… But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love that He had for us, made us alive with the Messiah even though we were dead in trespasses.

For you are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift. (Ephesians 2:1,4, 8 – emphasis mine)

Lazarus comes to mind as a physical picture of a spiritual event. He was very dead. Jesus neither gave an invitation nor waited for one. He gave a command — “Lazarus, come forth”. Disobedience would have kept him in the grave. Obedience brought him out.

Invitations are nice, polite. Unintrusive. Friendly. I think maybe that’s what we want the Gospel to be.

But it isn’t. The keys to death and hell were not politely handed over, they were taken with earth-shaking force. There was nothing friendly about the atonement for our sin.

The Gospel is bloody and real and hell shattering and it is not about making bad people good, or hurt people better, but about making dead people live.

passionofchristqi4

This was not to make us better but to put an end to our death. 

It leaves me a little wrecked with wonder as I look back through this lens and see what really happened in April of 1989 when I thought I was inviting Jesus to come into my life to be my Lord and Savior.

In reality, He stood at my tomb and commanded me to come forth. And in His love, goodness, and mercy, He took my invitation as obedience and removed my grave clothes.

Oh. How I love Him.

Matthew—Your Father

Matthew 6:1-18

At first glance, that mountainside sermon is exactly what so many expect of God. A list of do’s and do not’s. But I’ve sat here listening on repeat for days, hearing the same phrase over and over.

your Father. Ten times in eighteen verses He uses these words (once He says our Father, but still). Ten times He looks at me and says your Father.

It is said that when scripture repeats something three times, it is emphasizing the importance of something…a place, a person, a theme. It is basically saying, pay attention, this is crucial.

Ten times in eighteen verses Jesus affirms my identity as a daughter of heaven. 

I’ve been sitting on this one thing and counting the repeats and feeling the weight of pay attention, this is crucial.

I have called Him Father for years. But Father is just one of many identities I have called Him, depending on my circumstance. For instance, if you were to intrude on my most personal moments with Him lately, you would hear me crying out to my Healer. Not all that long ago He was my Deliverer. On a regular basis He is my Provider. The list goes on and the list is not wrong it’s just that He doesn’t want to be on a list.

Knowing God by a list of the things He can do for me is not the relationship He fought to the death to have with me.

The list separates what God does from the reason He does them.

[ Simplistic example:  When my kids got hungry, they didn’t call out for the food provider. When they got hurt they didn’t run to the owie healer. It was always Mom. I fed them, helped their hurts, and gave them what they needed because I was their mom, and they knew that, at least on some level.]

molasses

And finally, something in me settles as revelation seeps in like molasses.

What He does cannot be separated from the reason He does them because the reason He does them is who He is.

your Father.

God is not insisting that I know and believe and declare that He is my Healer.

your Father.

Or that I have memorized and can recite and are standing on all of the verses that prove He is my Healer.

your Father.

Or that I make sure to let Him know that my hope is not in doctors, lest He think I am trusting in some other healer besides Him.

your Father.

or any of the other things that we do and have others do in our attempt to get Him to do what we need Him to do.

your Father.

Molasses is slow, but eventually it gets where it’s going.

His Father-heart is not in question. Jesus, with His ten times in eighteen verses, has made it a much more personal question.

Do I have the heart of a daughter?

tap-dancing

Or is it still the heart of an orphan? A beggar. A tap dancer performer scripture-reciter trying to get the attention of the Healer Provider Deliverer?

Is my heart still so starved that it clamors for what He does more than for who He is?

And this one. So hard to answer. This is the pay attention. This is the crucial. I know this is why Jesus looked at me when He said it ten times.

Will I trust my Father even if Healer is nowhere to be found?

But still, revelation molasses just keeps seeping in until it finds the place it has been after from the beginning of the ten times in eighteen verses.

Is your Father enough?

And I remember that time He asked if His love was enough. It wasn’t a theological debate question, it was simple. Yes, or no. Designed not to be cruel or accusatory, but to force my heart into a life changing decision. And it was. It was life changing to choose to let His love be enough for me. It stopped my fighting and scratching for any other love. It brought rest to my soul. His love became the prize, not the consolation.

close up of a beautiful young woman looking upwards

So in the dark hours of the night, my heart again made a choice.

You are my Father and I am Your daughter.

Yes, it is enough. 

Matthew—Blessed is hard, not lucky

Matthew 5:1-11

His words on that mountain unsettle me. I say I’m so blessed to have this [fill in the blank]. Family. Job. House. Hair. Brownie. Whatever. But a few minutes of that mountainside sermon, and I realize that what I really mean is I am one lucky girl. So fortunate to have the life I have. It takes some digging to discover that blessed goes a whole lot deeper and is a whole lot harder than lucky.

Luck and fortune have nothing to do with the blessing of God. 

μακάριος, or makarios, is the word for blessed. 

[“the state of one who has become a partaker of God; to experience the fullness of God. It refers to the believer in Christ who is satisfied and secure in the midst of life’s hardships because of the indwelling fullness of the Spirit.”*]

Being blessed has nothing to do with my relationship with this earthly life and everything to do with my relationship with God.

And it’s a slow process to realize that everything is about God. Just everything.

Blessed begins at the cross where I stand spiritually impoverished before the tree where hangs the very fullness of God. And it continues through to my persecution. In between are the steps to becoming. The walk that leads to deeper places in God and to a greater partaking of His character.

As I step into mourning my sin instead of hiding it, and as I mourn others’ sin instead of throwing the first stone, I am blessed.

As I stop resisting God and begin to trust Him, asserting myself and my interests less and submitting myself wholly to Him who is in control of everything, I am blessed.

When I stop hungering for the things of this world, the things that soothe my flesh, and begin to long for what pleases God, to desire His will above anything else, I am blessed.

refugees

As I learn that compassion must be active and not passive, that being merciful means I must actually act upon my pity and do something about the needs of others instead of just talking about it, I am blessed.

When I live with my heart open before God and not hidden, allowing Him to cleanse it, not shrinking back, not withholding any part of my heart from His purifying fire, I am blessed.

When I become active in the reconciliation and restoration of others to God, wading into the pain and brokenness of the world around me to actually demonstrate the love and goodness of Jesus, going into the war for people’s souls rather than passively avoiding it, I am blessed.

And when I am shunned, driven away, harassed, denied and threatened not because of who I am, but because of who He is, I am in good company and I am blessed.

Blessed is not lucky, it is hard. It is dying. It is emptying. It is denying. It is going instead of staying, loving instead of hating, lifting up, not pushing down. It is living, not just talking. It is carrying a cross, not wearing one.

Blessed is becoming more like Him and less like me. 

*"Greek Thoughts" by Bill Klein, posted at StudyLight.org.

Heroes—The Secret of Abraham

We’re walking through the Hall of Faith together, in Hebrews 11. Links to the previous posts will be at the end of this one.

By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed and went out to a place he was going to receive as an inheritance. He went out, not knowing where he was going.  By faith he stayed as a foreigner in the land of promise, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, co-heirs of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.

(To read about Abraham’s story, begin in Genesis chapter 12.)

water

There is a secret hidden in Abraham’s story. A secret that I hold onto  almost as one who holds running water, unable to fully grasp it and hold fast.

It’s the secret that compelled a man to leave everything familiar — home, family, a way of life. Words on paper clean it up, make it seem less gut-wrenching, like saying goodbye isn’t painful at all. Like leaving something good isn’t all that hard. By faith he went. No big deal.

Except it is. A big deal. It is. Leaving things and people and comfort and familiar and good is heaving sobs hard. So let’s not look at the words on paper and wave them off like they have no meaning for us. Like they’re just part of someone else’s story. They aren’t. They are the words of my story, your story, and the story of the generations to come.

When I said yes to Jesus, I left a life of drugs. It wasn’t hard. I was relieved to be done, and so thankful for the rescue from that life.

cring

But leaving the reason I did drugs in the first place, the desire to escape? That’s been a long, mournful process that sometimes felt like I was being ripped away from all I hold dear. Too dramatic? No. It is not. To leave a lifelong pattern of dealing with life, to live without the blanket you’ve carried since childhood? It is a hard fought battle of leaving, my friend.

Your story is different from mine, but it is the same truth for both of us. We all have to leave, and keep leaving.

Because we cannot follow Jesus without leaving.

Abraham’s secret first slipped in when I was reading Psalm 84 one day and verse 5 was on fire.

Blessed are those whose strength is in You, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.

God lit it up and then dropped in into my heart, using it to put a name to something I couldn’t name. My sense of never feeling at home, never feeling attached or settled. Anywhere. My whole life.

I think one of the best intangible gifts God has given me is the gift of pilgrimage. Feeling like a stranger wherever I go, never feeling settled here, is precious to me.

Hebrews 11:13-15 ~ These all died in faith without having received the promises, but they saw them from a distance, greeted them, and confessed that they were foreigners and temporary residents on the earth…But they now desire a better place—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.

Foreigners. Aliens. Temporary residents. This is part of our calling, the ‘come, follow Me’ that compelled us to leave something known for unknown. This is who we are. People with eternity in our hearts, and an awareness that we are simply passing through this place as citizens of a different homeland. People who carry a secret that strengthens us for all the leavings.

And when we live as those people, neither joy nor sorrow on this sojourn will shackle our feet to this earth.

By faith.

These first four heroes have all directed our gaze forward, past them, past us.

ABEL – to the Gospel and the Church.

ENOCH – to the rapture of the Church and the urgency of the Gospel.

NOAH – to the way out of the coming destruction.

And now Abraham.

Pointing us home.

Previously:

Abel   Enoch    Noah

Heroes: Noah—Why I quit smoking

We’re walking through the Hall of Faith together, in Hebrews 11. Links to the previous posts will be at the end of this one.

By faith Noah, after he was warned about what was not yet seen and motivated by godly fear, built an ark to deliver his family. By faith he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.

(Noah’s story is in Genesis, chapters 6-9)

For years I had tried over and over to quit smoking, but nothing worked. I was firmly, undeniably, enslaved and I hated it. And then a series of events and one scripture passage happened.

Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” – John 5:14

And the fear of God came upon me at last. To be honest, I had been praying for a real fear of God, because I didn’t feel like I had any. I had a sincere love for God, devotion to God, affection for God and hunger for God. But I did not fear Him.

Until He told me, through His word, that there was something worse coming if I didn’t stop what I was doing and change course, and I believed Him and found my godly fear.

A fear of the Lord is defined as having reverence, or deep respect for Him. Some people also define it as being in awe of Him. All of those are correct. But for me, something was missing.

I knew God, loved God and walked with God. How could I not fear Him?

So here’s the deal. My deal, let’s just call it my deal because it may not be your deal at all. I have been fed on the grace and love and goodness and kindness and the “abba-ness” of God, and let me tell you, it has been nourishment for my broken soul. And feeding on the power of God to defeat the enemy, move mountains, heal sickness, and turn hearts, has lit.me.up with excitement and energy and determination and purpose. So so good.

close up buffet table arrangement cattering

But at the banqueting table of the fullness of who God is I have politely passed by a lot of what did not make me feel good, you know? The stuff that went down hard and felt strange to my pallet. I found that my spiritual appetite more or less mimicked my physical appetite. Eat what tastes good, don’t eat what doesn’t taste good.

Ironically, it is because God is good and kind and loving and full of grace, because He is my Abba-Father, that He led me to truth.

God always keeps His word. Even the hard to swallow ones.

So when He says that continuing in disobedience will bring something worse to me, He means it.

shut-the-door

And when He says that destruction is coming, He means it. And when He says He has made a way out of that destruction, but the day will come when He will shut the door of that way out, He means it. And when He says that if you have not obeyed His command to turn, believe in Jesus and be saved, you will perish, He means it.

And when He says that it is not His desire that you perish, He means it. 

By faith Noah took the way out provided by God. But He was motivated by godly fear.

Because He believed God meant what He said.

Previously:

Heroes: Cain & Abel

Heroes:  Enoch

Heroes: Enoch—Who will look for us?

We’re walking through the Hall of Faith together, in Hebrews 11. A link to the previous post will be at the end of this one.

“By faith Enoch was taken away so he did not experience death, and he was not to be found because God took him away. For prior to his removal he was approved, since he had pleased God.  Now without faith it is impossible to please God, for the one who draws near to Him must believe that He exists and rewards those who seek Him.”

Just like that. He walked with God, pleased God, and then he was taken away. I assume the words ‘he was not to be found’ imply that people, the ones who had been left behind, were searching for him. This stirs something in me. Enoch points to the end, to the day of Christ’s return to take His Church to be with Him!

In Luke, chapter 17, Jesus speaks of that day that Enoch’s story foretells.

I tell you, on that night two will be in one bed: One will be taken and the other will be left.  Two women will be grinding grain together: One will be taken and the other left.

And then in 1 Thessalonians: 4:17 Paul tells us…

Then we who are still alive will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air and so we will always be with the Lord.

And suddenly I am filled with fresh hope. Because although I know the truth, and I know that this day is coming, I get bogged down in day-to-day life down here and I tell ya, it can feel like this is it. So I find myself holding onto this life with both hands clenched tight as though this earthly existence is all I get. When I forget the truth, things down here appear much bigger, much more important, than they really are.

Every thing we have on this earth will be left behind. All the trappings that we had to have, that we worked to build, that we believed would bring the peace and the happiness we wanted…none of it will survive the final hour. That leaves us with this:  who will be left behind when Enoch’s story becomes mankind’s story? Who will look for us but will not find us?

And so I find Enoch pointing not only to the rapture of the Church, but to the urgency of the Gospel. Enoch reminds me that there is no thing on this earth more important than the people on this earth, and whether or not they will one day be counted among those who will be “caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air and so we will always be with the Lord.” 

By faith.

Paul told the Thessalonians to encourage one another with his words concerning the end, so this is me, encouraging us…

Editable vector illustration of a man winning a race

One day we will discover that this earthly life is not the end, but the beginning. One day, our race here will end and we will all be gathered at the finish line with Jesus, our great reward!

Who will be with us?

Previously:  Cain & Abel

Heroes: Cain & Abel—What are you pointing at?

By faith Abel offered to God a better sacrifice than Cain did.

I’ve read commentaries. Looked up the original words in Hebrew. Tried every way I know to peek underneath this verse, but the fact is, God never tells us why He preferred Abel’s offering over Cain’s. But we can still go deeper and find the treasures hiding here.

Cain’s response to God’s rejection of his offering is anger. Not repentance. Not humility. Anger and pride. And God took it as a teaching moment and said to him ‘If you do what is right, won’t you be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.”

Cain did not take it as a learning moment, and instead, killed his brother.

I think, and it’s just opinion talking here, that Cain’s offering was like a man going through the motions with God. It was made more out of obligation than faith. And when he saw Abel, and not himself, receiving the approval of God, he showed his true heart.

It’s almost like Cain’s offering is pointing directly at a spirit of religion. And a spirit of religion is always a mask worn by pride. Note that Cain did, in fact, bring an offering to God, giving the appearance of obedience and reverence. But then God unmasks Cain’s pride by refusing his offering. Once unmasked, we see Cain’s anger and petulance toward God, even when God questions him about the disappearance of his brother.

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s guardian?”

Unmasked, Cain’s true attitude is on display. And then, we see even deeper, when God tells him the consequences for killing his brother.

“But Cain answered the Lord, ‘My punishment is too great to bear! Since You are banishing me today from the soil, and I must hide myself from Your presence and become a restless wanderer on the earth, whoever finds me will kill me.’”

Again, no repentance. No sorrow for his sin. Only prideful concern for self. And while we can see this on the backside of this story, we know that God knew it before it ever happened. 

In contrast, Abel’s offering was given by faith. And his offering was “some of the firstborn of his flock and their fat portions”.  The fat is defined as the best, or most excellent of any kind. 

So Abel’s offering, by faith, was a blood offering, made from the sacrifice of the first-born, the best, or most excellent of any kind. And, ultimately, Abel was persecuted for his faith, was he not?

So, if Cain’s offering points to a spirit of religion, is it possible that Abel’s offering points to the Gospel of Christ, and His Church?

jesus-cross

For some reason, this makes me weep, this treasure buried back in the beginning. Not just a collection of stories that we blow the dust off every now and then, but markers pointing to the cross and to the Firstborn, the perfect lamb, who offered the Father His life as our ransom. So that we could become His Church.

And I am compelled to ask God, what about me? What do I take from this for my own life?

Slow down and take a deeper look at what you do ‘for Me’. Do your offerings point to the Gospel of Christ and His Church, or do they point to a religious spirit? Simply put, are your offerings to Me coming from faith, or from pride?

This question goes far beyond tithes and offerings. It seeps into our ministries, into our volunteering, into how we operate in our giftings, our prayer lives, our giving, and even in our presence on social media. The question goes deep into everything we do, including our relationships with others and with God. Because our whole lives are to be the offering.

Are we bringing offerings that please God? Or do we just assume He accepts whatever it is we do in the name of Jesus?

There’s a good chance someone may discover the answers on the backside of my story. But what makes me stop and need to put my face on the floor is this…

God already knows.