“Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow Me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:27).
What does following mean exactly?
It’s walking behind Someone on a footpath. When you come to a fork in the road—a crisis like death or illness or disaster—you continue to stay behind the Leader, not stray off the path or choose another fork. It’s trusting that the One you follow knows the way through the wilderness.
John 12:26 says, “If any of you wants to serve Me, then follow Me.”
What does it mean to serve? Is that the same as following?
When Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, He said, “What I’ve done, you do.” Did He mean that we should have foot-washing ceremonies? I serve my family by cooking for them, cleaning the house, running the household. But it’s more than that. Serving others is a heart attitude.
When I serve others, I’m following Jesus. When I follow Him, I will serve others.
A 2024 Update. When I first began meeting with clients for inner healing prayer, I was appalled to learn that some of them believed that serving others meant self-abasement, self-neglect, or laying themselves down as a rug to be trampled. But lying on the pathway renders them incapable of following the Leader. Fortunately, God is patient. He will allow us to stay there until we cry out to Him for help. Once we can stand, we can follow Him.
Our Pastor preached through the list of kingdom qualities in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount and asked which quality we needed to focus on. I chose “avoid judgmentalism.”
The Pharisees [hypocrites] honor Me with their lips. But their heart is far from Me. But in vain do they worship Me, teaching as doctrine the precepts of men. (Matthew 7:6)
Here’s my definition of judgmentalism based onthis passage: A self-righteous attitude about how others conduct themselves—usually because I don’t do this “sin” myself. And often the “sin” in question is regarding a tradition of man rather than breaking a direct command of Scripture.
Want some examples?
Women were forbidden to wear pants at the college I attended.
Red lipstick was considered worldly in my childhood culture.
Going to the movie theatre was a no-no.
Dancing was definitely in the category of sinful behavior.
Modesty was defined by skirt length.
Culture has a huge impact on this discussion. What’s modest for one culture is immoral for another. I think it comes down to the attitude of my heart. I can dress like a Puritan and not have a pure heart. The other end of the continuum is harder for me to gauge. At what point do I transition from a poor heart attitude to sin? Or is it a point? Can the discussion focus on the amount of material, or should the focus be 100% on the heart?
Next, I pondered the difference between a Pharisee’s judgment and the weaker brother’s judgment (1 Corinthians 8:11). In a previous church, the pastor urged us to refrain from a particular activity (fill in the blank here), so as not to offend a weaker brother, thus causing him to sin.
The Pharisee holds his standard of righteousness for his own glory. I don’t need to change my behavior to please him. The weaker brother (one who hasn’t been taught yet) has a desire for righteousness for God’s glory, and I need to respect him.
But there’s a third category of people to consider. 1 Corinthians 10:27 says, “If one of the Unbelievers should say to you, ‘This is meat sacrificed to idols,’ don’t eat it—for the sake of the conscience of the one who informed you.” Note that this unbeliever invites you to eat with him, so this conversation is in private—not referring to a system (which is where my mind goes with my former church). So then the observation [judgment, criticism] in this passage is coming NOT from a weaker brother, but rather from an unbeliever who “knows” the Christian’s standards.
To sum it all up, 1 Corinthians 10:31 says, “Whether, then, you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”
I cannot judge another person’s motives. I am only responsible for my own heart. I just know that I prefer hugging the mountainside over seeing how close to the cliff’s edge I can get.
A 2024 Update. Legalism with all its “shoulds” and “have-tos” had a strong hold on me for many years, but I don’t struggle with these issues anymore. God gave me a mind to ask questions and to search the Scriptures, and God’s answers have brought peace to my heart.
I grew up under the teaching that as Gentile Christians, we were commanded to “keep the Sabbath day holy.” Never mind that our instructors mistakenly called Sunday “the Sabbath” or that, as I believe, we are no longer under the Law of Moses.
The Mosaic Law spelled out some parameters for Sabbath or Shabbat observance: no fires, no cooking, no traveling. The Pharisees took the Law a little further and defined the Sabbath according to what activities and to what extent they thought were or were not permissible as per their own definitions. In 39 categories, the Talmud defined work as “any activity that creates or that exercises control or dominion over one’s environment.” These included baking, making garments, making leather, and building structures. Today their Sabbath legalism extends to not pushing the buttons on an elevator or turning on electric lights.
Reform Judaism says, “One should avoid one’s normal occupation or profession on Shabbat whenever possible and engage only in those types of activities that enhance the joy, rest, and holiness of the day.” According to this definition, if I were to “keep the Sabbath,” my normal activities would be housework, computer work, and the business end of ministry. It would not preclude ministry itself according to Jesus’ example. He preached and healed all week long. You’d think He’d refrain on the seventh day and take this day off from “work.” But apparently His work wasn’t classified as labor.
Jewish law prohibits work, but it isn’t the same definition as our English word for work. The word Shabbat literally means “to cease” or “to sit.” While resting is implied, it’s not the meaning of the word. God created for six days, and then He ceased. He didn’t need to rest. I may not be Jewish, and yes, Jesus is my Sabbath rest, but I do need to “cease” on a regular basis. I need the change of pace, the chance to recoup, refresh, and recharge my body, mind, and soul.
So . . . generally, once a week, I turn off my computer, refrain from cleaning house, and occupy myself with things I enjoy doing—guilt-free, such as reading, doing a puzzle, or golfing with my husband (after church of course!)
At some point in His ministry, Jesus sent out the twelve disciples and gave them power
to drive out demons
to cure diseases
to heal the sick, and
to preach the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:1; Mark 6:7)
The twelve? That means that He gave those powers and gifts to Judas as well—the one He chose by the will of the Father, knowing he would betray Him. The one whose love of money was never cured though he spent three years at the Master’s feet.
Jesus sent them out two by two. Who got stuck with Judas? Was he so wicked at this time? Perhaps not. Perhaps he only had a “little sin” in his heart. But all the disciples struggled with unbelief and fear and pride. What was so different about Judas?
They were to take no food (what if they had a blood sugar problem?), no money (or credit cards for that matter), no change of clothes (ewww … would you want two sweaty, smelly men in your home?), and they were to preach repentance. Apparently Judas failed to heed his own warning.
Judas never asked Jesus to drive out his own demons. He never got to see the fruits of his labor. He missed the blessings and didn’t endure to the end of God’s plan, to the resurrection. He tried to avoid the pain in his heart and took his own life.
And yet … God’s plan could not be thwarted. His plan triumphed in the end. He used Judas’ poor choice to bring salvation to the whole world.
A 2024 Update. A couple students in our community took their own lives last month. I understand that when pain is overwhelming, a person can believe there is no alternative, but the premature end of a life feels like such a waste, a missed opportunity to bless others. I wonder how God will redeem these events in the lives of those who are left behind to pick up the pieces.
. . . His Spirit in your inner self [indwelling your innermost being and personality] (Ephesians 3:16 Amplified)
Since my innermost being is home to the Holy Spirit, I want to make Him feel as at home and comfortable as I possibly can. I know how icky it feels in my earthly home when there’s tension and discord and fighting and self-centeredness. How at home does the Holy Spirit feel when I’m angry, peevish, sulky, self-centered, lonely* or at worst—when I sin, leaving dirty smudges on the windows of His house, keeping others from seeing His light shine through?
[*“Why are you lonely? Aren’t I here?” says the Holy Spirit]
I know your deeds. Behold, I have put before you an open door which no one can shut, because you have a little power, and have followed My word, and have not denied My name. (Revelation 3:8 NASB)
It’s easy to be faithful on paper and in private. But how will I do if persecution arises? If I have to testify before unbelievers who are mocking me? I live such a small, sheltered, cushy life. I have a godly heritage; we own two cars; my husband has a job. It’s easy to profess Christ when there’s a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and a happy church to attend. I have never experienced persecution. Never lived in a war zone. Never suffered a broken bone or the heartache of a wayward child. Never been through divorce or the death of a close loved one. Never been through a natural disaster, been forced to do what I don’t want to do, not faced poverty or the temptation of riches; I live in a safe neighborhood. Never lived alone. I’m surrounded by people who love me and whom I love. No wonder I love Jesus! How will I respond in the hour of trial?
Lord, keep me faithful to the end.
A 2024 Update. Interesting that I forgot to mention my three miscarriages. I guess that’s the power of healing. And since I wrote this, I’ve grieved the loss of both my parents. I’ve also been through the fire of hatred, lies, and targeted anger from clients in the past few years. Does that count? I may be a slow learner, but today I’m at peace.
I’ve been taught all my life that we are to believe every word written in the Bible, but most of us pick and choose which rules and principles we want to follow. And if we question a portion of someone’s pet doctrine or rule, we’re told we’re going against Scripture.
There’s a reason, obviously, why the Apostle Paul’s letters are included in the canon, but one has to keep in mind that he wrote to a specific person or church about specific issues in the context of their culture. How different would these letters read if he lived today and wrote to our American congregations? Different needs, different pastors, different times, different issues.
For example, what would he say to American women today and their roles? Would he still demand they wear a head covering in church? Would he still admonish us to not usurp authority over our husbands?
How about rules for slaves? Would he decry sex trafficking? Perhaps Paul would address the subject of the homeless. Would he step into the arena of political opinion? Character qualities and general principles can be applied today, but specific rules in the Pauline epistles—probably not. All the instructions regarding the widow list, for example, don’t seem as relevant today, though he might still urge us to care for the marginalized.
The Scripture says that in latter times some will fall away from the faith, paying attention to deceitful spirits and doctrines of demons (I Timothy 4:1). I think it takes discernment to sort through all these Pauline rules.
If you want to explore this topic more, read Scot McKnight’s The Blue Parakeet: Rethinking How You Read the Bible.
In the book Heaven: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Heaven, Randy Alcorn teaches that the eternal heaven and earth will become one, that we will live on a literal earth, similar to the Garden of Eden. But in the intermediate heaven, we’ll be aware of what’s going on (on earth) and may even pray for our loved ones.
What if heaven, the kingdom of God, is spatially here right now, in another dimension, but we just can’t see it? Many people on earth today experience a portal into another world. Characters in the fictional series The Chronicles of Narnia, my D.I.D. (dissociative identity disorder) friends, and Jesus Himself, saw/see angels and demons, the past and the future, but in a different dimension. Why can some “see” and others cannot? Is that where certain gifts of the Spirit come into play? Is it that an abused child is exposed to this portal (forbidden to the rest of us to seek it) by the demons?
In The Shining Man with Hurt Hands, Ellis Skofield tells how he worked with multiples (D.I.D.) in chatrooms on the Internet. Here’s his explanation of that fifth dimension (the model for most of us). Our mind controls our body in the material world. In the spiritual world, our spirit hears from the Holy Spirit OR is tempted by other spirits. Our spirit then transfers what it hears to our mind, where we decide to ignore or act on the received data with our bodies.
For us ordinary folks, there’s an almost impenetrable wall between these two worlds, and the Bible commands us not to try to see through it. However, mediums, satanic cults, and occultists of many stripes see through that wall all the time. Inadvertently, so do many multiples, and their ability to do so is what gives us an approach through which we can help them.
I understand the concept; I’m just not comfortable with the diagram layout. I see it more as three-dimensional, but I can’t draw it. I see the Holy Spirit inside the mind, which is inside the body; and the evil spirits dwell outside the body of the believer. But the diagram is helpful for seeing the separation of the material vs. immaterial (for now) worlds.
What is your experience with this, and how would you draw it?
The passage in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17 has always puzzled me. And it’s hard to find someone with whom to reasonably discuss it because I find that most evangelicals have their minds made up about their eschatological position based on verses that supposedly support their claim. These verses leave me with more questions than answers. Anyone care to give your opinion?
What does it mean, “God will bring with Him those who are dead”?
Bring them where? To heaven? To earth? Bring them back to life? Believers? Nonbelievers?
“We who are alive and remain till the coming of the Lord will not precede those who have fallen asleep.”
If you stop reading here, it makes sense. Obviously, the dead arrive in heaven before the living do.
“The Lord returns with a shout and a trumpet and the dead in Christ will rise first.”
First before whom? Before the living? Before unbelievers?
What will rise? Their bodies? Aren’t their spirits already risen?
“Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and thus we’ll always be with the Lord.”
If this happens in the twinkling of an eye, why the “first” and “precede” references? Doesn’t this happen all at once?
On earth, humans are body/soul/spirit (yes, I’m a trichotomist). In heaven (or wherever the holding place is for spirits separated from their bodies), there’s only spirit—or does that include the soul? After the resurrection of the dead, there will be a reunion of the body and the spirit (and presumably the soul wherever that’s been).
And why the choice of words “asleep” instead of “dead”? Jesus obviously saw this from a different perspective than His disciples.
If this passage (along with I Corinthians 15) was the only teaching on eschatology, I’d be convinced of a post-tribulation rapture. But based on other verses, and contrary to many evangelicals, I lean toward a mid-trib position.
In the end, of course, my position is irrelevant. Just because I believe something, doesn’t make it so. What I do stake my life on is that Jesus is coming back someday. Period.
The tug of my human heart says I have the same temptation toward pride, the same bent, as Satan himself. I want to be like God. I want the universe to revolve around me. I want glory. Like the Apostle Paul, I want to shout, “O wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me from the body of this death [idolatrous desire]?” (Romans 7:24).
My visual is that I’m at the center of a circle, craving the world’s honor and praise. Though I want to experience significance, I don’t want this idolatry of self. I want to echo John the Baptist’s words: “He must increase; I must decrease.”
Paul viewed himself as a slave of God (the Master of the Mansion, a perfect gentleman who looks after and cares for His servants and who gives good gifts according to their service for Him.) Kitchen maid or head chef, butler or chimney sweep—we all have our jobs to do. If we do it with a complaining spirit, we shift the focus to the idolatry of self. If we serve with gratitude and love, our load feels lighter. We’re driven to excellence. We want the Master of the Mansion to look good. Shining the gold on the newel of the banister becomes an act of worship. Fetching His slippers is a privilege. We adore Him. Why? Because He makes each one of His servants feel significant. He catches our eye. He notices. “Nice job on the newel, Charlie. Thank you for remembering to feed my dogs, Susan. I love you, Karen.”
But there are other metaphors: “No longer do I call you My servants, but My friends (John 15:15). You are My bride (Isaiah 54:10). I bought you with a price (I Corinthians 7:23). You were sold for nothing, and you shall be redeemed without money” (Isaiah 52:3).
And we remember who we were and from whence we came. And we gladly, gratefully, joyfully enter into a love relationship with our Rescuer.
But then that niggling question comes—how did we get into the slave marketplace? How did we end up in the prostitute’s parlor? And we blame God. He created us, didn’t He? It’s His fault for bringing us into existence in the first place. And we face that universal question, “Why was I born?” Just so He could have more slaves? How bitter is that?
But no. He wants relationship. “He satisfies the longing soul and fills the hungry soul with goodness” (Psalm 107:9).
“Will you be My bride?” asks Jesus. I have searched for you, I have found you, I have courted you. Will you say yes? I will exchange your dirty garments for clean, bright white ones. I will give you a crown worthy of a queen.”
And in humility, all pride gone, I bow prostrate at His feet. I am unworthy. He deserves all the glory, the honor, the praise.
Coronation Day is coming. Preparations are in the works. I want my heart to be ready. I want to complete the tasks He’s given me to do in preparation of the wedding day and His coronation ceremony.
In the Pursuit of Peace 