gospel

Choosing Life

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Moses was nearing the end of his substantial ministry, preparing to hand leadership off to Joshua, and getting the descendants of Israel ready to take possession of the land promised to Abraham many generations before. In light of his, Moses had just finished reiterating the entire covenant between God and His chosen people so they would go in with a clear understanding of what it looked like to keep their end of the promise. In short, Moses offered them a choice between life and death.

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days…
(Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Note: I highly recommend reading all of Deuteronomy 30, but this is the gist.

Today, of course, believers are under a new covenant promise; a covenant bought and sealed by the priceless blood of the Divine Lamb of God who lived out that perfect obedience to God’s covenant law, laid down His life to pay the penalty for our rebellion, and took His life up again so all who put their trust in the sufficiency of His sacrifice may be set free from slavery to sin.

Because of Jesus and His sacrifice, we are given an opportunity at a new life, being remade in Him. Further, His gift of the Holy Spirit makes it possible for us to choose life. Yet obedience is still necessary for us. Indeed, Jesus equates our love for Him with our obedience to His commands many times in John 14.

Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.”
(John 14:21)

And while it is popular in some circles to say we are “free from the law,” it is more accurate to say we are free from certain specific constraints of the first covenant meant for Israel before the first advent of her Messiah. We are not free to do as we wish; certainly if we belong to Jesus, we are not free to sin but free to escape from sin.

We are still liable to a moral law, one which Jesus actually accentuates rather than diminishes. For example, Jesus not only says we should not commit adultery, but that we should not even look lustfully at another person. He doesn’t just say, “Don’t murder,” but instructs us not to be angry with our brother – in fact, to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. He calls us not to mere obedience but perfection (see Matthew 5:21-48).

This is what I want to hone in on. When it comes to a modern understanding of sin and obedience, I think we get a little confused. We look at a specific sin and think, “Well, at least it’s a small sin. It’s not something really bad, like murder.”

Or we hold our sin up against cultural norms and think it used to be sin but maybe it isn’t anymore. Perhaps God changed His mind, or maybe humans have progressed in our understanding of sin, or maybe it’s simply outdated to think of certain actions as sinful.

We think we’re comparing good and bad or better and best. But in reality, we are still comparing life and death.

Even though Moses was talking to an ancient people about a specific covenant between their nation and a holy God, the principle of what he says still remains. Brothers and sisters, when we weigh obedience to Christ’s holiness against conformity to our culture, we are still choosing between life and death, blessing and curse.

For the love of the One who gave all so we might have His righteousness, and also because I love and care about your eternal well being, my friends, I implore you: choose life.

Darkness, Light, and Subjective Morality

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

As our 8:45 p.m. flight took off, I watched the ground fall away through the airplane window. The ambient brightness of the city at ground level faded quickly. Night encroached. In my bird’s-eye view, large pools of light pushed back the darkness as we gained altitude, soaring over stadiums, shopping malls, office complexes, and street lights. The further from the city we journeyed, the more feeble the pools of light became and the more prominent the surrounding darkness grew. An apt visual metaphor for subjective morality.

We were heading home from a brief visit with family members who do not have (so far as I can tell) a thriving relationship with the living God. During the visit, I was told about the kids’ “religious classes,” and one of said kids informed me on Sunday, “We don’t have to go to church.” God’s name was invoked in the standard secular way along with a string of other words my husband and I have allowed the Holy Spirit to excise from our vocabularies.

But more telling was the fruit. The desperate striving to be a “good person” on a sliding scale of virtue. Anger when one has been hurt by the actions of another, but justifying similar actions in oneself.

I hate him because of what he did to me; when I did it, it was for a good reason. It was different.

Justice struggling to find footing on an unstable, convulsing foundation of right vs. wrong. A steady undercurrent of fear and uncertainty and thinly-veiled shame. Palpable darkness seeping in at the edges.

It’s a world I used to embrace, and the reminder left me both sorrowful and grateful.

I am deeply grieved for loved ones still imprisoned by the deceitfulness of sin. Yet I am grateful for the One who healed my spiritual blindness and shined the light of Yeshua (Jesus), opening my eyes to the singular Way of escape from my self-constructed cage of sin, guilt, and evil.

I glanced back out the window. Only pinpricks of light appeared below now, far-flung and lonely in the inky blackness of the night.

All our human effort to eradicate the darkness of sin – whether the poison within own rebellious hearts or the evil stalking us from without – are like those dwindling lights.

At ground-level in a large crowded city, all seems well. Our self-made righteousness blends in, and while we may be doing worse than some, at least we’re faring better than others. One can think of the darkness as somewhere out there, far away. OK, maybe I’ve been around the block more than once, but at least I’m not a murderer.

In the throng, it’s easy to fit in. Easy to hide.

But when we’re alone, the darkness looms and our good works flicker like a lit match in a drafty room. There’s no real warmth, little light to see by, and nowhere to run when the light is snuffed.

We can try to push back the darkness on our own, but we’ll never get far. A centimeter, a meter, maybe a little more, but our little circle of good works quivers as hungry shadows press in from all sides, waiting. Unrelenting. Inexorable.

No matter how good we try to be, we can never do enough good to erase the evil we’ve done. Instead, our good deeds only serve to highlight the murkiness of our motives and the taint upon our souls. The dim light we produce is shot through with shades of inadequacy.

On our own, we’re caught in a losing battle of push-and-shove against our very nature. We cannot rescue ourselves from this losing battle; we can only prolong the inevitable moment when the darkness forever swallows our faint gleam.

But there is hope. There is a true and effulgent Light of the World powerful enough to banish darkness; a Light that heals and cleanses and restores and renews. And He has a name.

Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. . . (Ephesians 5:7-11).

Friend, if you’re caught in the flickering and uncertain light of subjective morality, this is an invitation to you. There is a real Light, a true and powerful Light unconquerable by the darkness. His Name is Yeshua, commonly called Jesus in English. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and the light of truth He brings is strong enough to scour the deepest and oldest stains from your very soul if you will turn your back on your sin and run into the light of His love and grace.

His morality is true Light, and while He knows we can never measure up to God’s standard of perfect holiness, He offers Himself as a bridge. Through His torn body, we can cross over from darkness to light, from death to life.

There, in the powerful Light of Truth from whence the Glory of God shines, the stains of our rebellion are scoured away. He’s given us the Word of Truth, and by its light we see Light. All our horrible secrets are laid bare, but in that pure light, they are exposed to be excised by the Healer of our souls.

But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (Ephesians 5:13-14).

In Yeshua, we are restored to what we ought to be and have no more need of fallible, artificial lights of our own making. In Him and through Him, the full radiance of righteousness shines.

He is the only way; humanity’s only hope. But we must make a choice. We must choose Him; His way of sacrifice, letting go what we once were to become what He created us to be.

Step into the Light, let Christ shine on you, and find joy and peace, healing and wholeness, and rest for your soul.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son,
that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.  
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, 
but in order that the world might be saved through him.  
Whoever believes in him is not condemned, 
but whoever does not believe is condemned already, 
because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 
And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, 
and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. 
For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.
 But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God" (John 3:16–21).

Jesus Didn’t Come for the Righteous

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

. . .He said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
(Matthew 9:11-13)

The above statements by Yeshua (Jesus) were made shortly after He called a man named Matthew to follow Him. Because Matthew was both Jewish and a tax collector employed by Rome, he would have been vilified as a contemptable sell-out by his fellow Israelites.1 Without a doubt, Matthew was as shocked at the Master’s call as the other disciples, who were probably wondering, Why is the Lord asking a traitor to join us?

Whatever their response, we know at some point after Matthew left his tax booth to follow the Messiah, Yeshua was found dining with other tax collectors and socially unacceptable sinners. The Pharisees did not care for His choice of companions and voiced their disdain. It was at this point my Lord offered His subtle rebuke in the form of a reference to Hosea 6:6: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

In the rabbinical style of His time, the Lord intended to point them not only to the specific verse, but the entire passage (probably Hosea 6:4-10). It is worthy of note here to point out the English translation is not exact, but bear in mind Matthew’s Gospel account was written in Greek; Hosea penned in Hebrew; and the conversation probably happened in either Hebrew or Aramaic – just in case you were wondering why it doesn’t appear to be a direct quote.

What shall I do with you, O Ephraim? What shall I do with you, O Judah? Your love is like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away. . . For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings. But like Adam they transgressed the covenant; there they dealt faithlessly with me.
(Hosea 6:4, 6-7)

Do you see it? Yeshua is not only making clear His mission – to call sin-sick sinners to spiritual health – but He is reminding these wayward leaders of their own faithlessness. The quoted statement forces the hearer to decide which category he falls into. Am I righteous? Or a sinner?

Anyone as conversant with the Text as the Pharisees were, would know that Psalm 14:2-3 declares there is “none who does good, not even one,” and many of the proverbs discuss God’s abhorrence of human pride (see Proverbs 8:13, 16:5, et al).

Not to mention that to declare oneself righteous is as bold an act of hubris as can be imagined.

Matthew doesn’t record the Pharisees’ response to this challenge, but I doubt it was positive. In several other places, Matthew points out how this sect accused the Lord of casting out demons through demonic means, sought to destroy Him, and eventually conspired to have Him killed.2 Thus, it’s no leap of logic to assume they weren’t thrilled at His rebuke. After all, they were prominent religious leaders! How dare this young upstart presume to reproach them?

Hm. Indeed.

The thing is, it’s easy for us to fall into the habit of thinking, Oh, those awful Pharisees, roll our eyes, and quite miss the point.

Yeshua’s question is for us, too. Am I righteous? Or a sinner?

Do we, in living-color-lived-out truth, comprehend the gravity of our sin and our desperate need for the Messiah’s imputed righteousness? Or do our lives reflect smug complacency in our own decency?

When we read these accounts in our Bibles, it’s an easy thing to read as a bystander, observing without participating in the unfolding narrative. Yet the entire purpose of God’s Word is to teach us about Him and draw us to Him by showing us the path carved through the very flesh of His only Son.

If there were any other way to breach the chasm between our sinful selves and the holiness of the Most High God, Yeshua’s prayers in Gethsemane would have concluded without His betrayal by one of His close companions and the road to Golgotha.

We can never be righteous enough to counterbalance our sin. There are no Divine scales of justice where each bad deed weighs down one side while every good deed is placed on the opposite. There is only the living death of sin and the eternal life offered through the Messiah.

To be blunt, we all fall into one of two categories:

  1. Those who do not belong to Yeshua, who are walking dead just waiting for the animation of our bodies to cease, or
  2. Those who do belong to Him and have already begun the eternal journey that will continue once these temporary bodies wear out and are traded in for our eternal ones.

So when you read His words to the Pharisees, it’s worth a heart check. Have you been trusting in your good works, or have your good works been the grateful overflow of a life rescued from death through surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ, Yeshua Messiah? Are you a recalcitrant miscreant relying on self-sufficiency? Or have you repented – made a 180o turn – leaving desire for sin at your back and making steps closer to the glorious Savior?

In fact, are you one of the sinners He came to call?

I know I am, and I’m blessed to call Him both Master and Lord. I pray you will come to Him, too, and we can glorify Him both now and for time out of mind.

  1. See “Why Exactly Were Tax Collectors So Hated?” and “Monetary System, Taxation, and Publicans in the Time of Christ,” et al. ↩︎
  2. See Matthew 9:32-32; 12:14; 12:22-24; 22:15; et all ↩︎

Diagnosis

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

“That’s not a diagnosis; it’s why I’m here.”

Frustration hardened my voice, drawing a sigh from my doctor. She replied, “We’ve literally tested you for everything, and it IS a diagnosis. There may not be a blood test yet but there are diagnostic criteria, and you do have the hallmark symptom of post exertional malaise. Trust me, this is it. Do your research.”

So much for the hope of something treatable.

A diagnosis of ME/CFS is kind of like being told you have a virus, only the symptoms won’t improve in a couple of weeks. No treatment, no definitive disease course, no cure. Yet this obstacle felt minor compared to the despair I felt in my former life as an atheist.

In those days, I could see the world was a mess. Everywhere I looked, I saw a profound brokenness; a sickness for which I could find neither explanation nor cure. Even mirrors reflected the malady so I avoided them when possible. On my own, single and careless if not quite carefree, I could stomach the ugliness. I even participated; a hopeless if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em mentality.

But on the day I stared down at twin pink lines on a pregnancy test, the weight of the world’s horrors squeezed the air from my lungs.

Could I bring a child into this dismal world where evil lurked in broad daylight; where wars and kidnappings and murders were so commonplace that the news needed something splashier to capture the attention of a calloused public? Was it even moral to consider ushering an innocent life into such depravity?

These were the questions that drove me to my search for truth, and in doing so, I discovered there is not only a definitive diagnosis for the world’s disease, there is also a cure.

Imagine my relief.

The world’s diagnosis is simple: sin.

It’s hard to believe so much atrocity and sorrow can be encompassed by three letters of the English language, and yet it’s true. We live in an age that discounts sin as old-fashioned while failing to grasp the far-reaching devastation it brings.

Instead of measuring right and wrong against a set standard, we prefer to measure our choices against other rights and wrongs. “Sure, I’ve told a lie or two, but at least I’m not a murderer.”

We compare ourselves to Hitler or Charles Manson and feel confident that we aren’t that bad. But we are. The infection is so great, we don’t even see how it’s warped our very understanding.

Instead of being measurable against itself, sin is far more like cancer. One tiny cancer cell multiplies rapidly until the entire organism’s resources are taxed. Cancer, untreated, leads to death. Sin is no different but it is more complicated. Cancer affects only the organism it lives within; sin affects everything and everyone.

Like ripples a water droplet causes in a body of water, sin’s malignancy spreads out and disrupts other people and other elements of this world. To trace the influence of the myriad sins even of a single human being would be tantamount to documenting the impact and reverberation of every single ripple caused by each drop of rain in a hurricane.

However, the world and its inhabitants are not affected by a single person’s sin but by the collective sins of all people of all times. Only an all-powerful, all-knowing Being could sort it all out. And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

God, the Creator who spoke the world and all its complexity into existence, understands the hopeless mangling of His creation caused by sin. He who created humanity that we might share His love also allowed us – as love must – to choose for ourselves whether or not we will share in it. And when each and every one of us rejected His love for the fleeting pleasure of deciding for ourselves what is and is not good and right, He saw the mess we made of things – and He had compassion.

As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14

To me, this still comes as a shock.

The human response to a creation that defies and destroys would be anger, frustration, annihilation. But God had compassion for us rebels.

His compassion led to the cure for sin – a cure that I’ll be the first to admit sounds unbelievable. He sent His Son to live as human beings were meant to live – in obedience to His created structure – and then to die as a willing sacrifice to pay the price for sin.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 6:23

Though the Son of God and Son of Man may have clothed Himself in death, He didn’t wear it forever. By the mystery of melded God and flesh and the unwarranted compassion of the Creator who became a part of His own creation, He died. Then He left death behind, discarded along with his grave cloth. He not only accepted the penalty for sin, He overcame it.

Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?

1 Corinthians 15:55

Now because of Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, all we who are hopelessly infected with sin can choose to die to sin by putting our desire to be in charge to death. Then, free from the stranglehold of sin, we can also discard death as a useless garment and walk into true and everlasting life.

The journey starts now, and we must each choose our path. Choose wisely. There are only two options: either the path of sin leading only to death, or the Way of Messiah Yeshua by which we put sin to death and are gifted with life and peace- glorious, true and abundant.

There is only one cure for the cancer of the soul, and His name is Yeshua (Jesus). But like all cures, it is up to each person to accept it and apply it.

Migraine Phase Three | The Attack

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. The law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces.

Psalm 119:71-72

There’s not much funny about this phase. However, I can’t say there’s nothing good about it. But first, a couple of details: the attack or headache phase is the most straight-forward. It’s <drum roll> a headache!

But it is not just a headache. A migraine is a very distinct kind of headache, usually (but not always) one-sided with a pulsing, pounding, or throbbing quality. I used to liken the early sensation to a gong being rhythmically and silently struck behind my left eyeball, although that probably only makes sense if you’ve ever been close enough to a gong to feel the vibrations in your teeth – or if you happen to have migraines similar to mine.

Of course, medication helps in varying degrees, but without medication (and sometimes even with it ) there’s a lot that goes on.

Besides head pain, this phase also comes with a complement of varied and sometimes bizarre symptoms. Nausea, vomiting, confusion, fatigue, and sensitivity to light and sound are common for most migraineurs. And when I say nausea, I mean that you feel like you’re going to vomit if you move even an eyelash, you do vomit if you move even an eyelash, and you pray you can vomit in a dark, quiet place or else the pain quadruples (and if your stomach does rebel, the cool tile of the bathroom floor seems a perfectly sensible place to ride out the rest of the storm. After all, any attempt to exit the necessary room would only bring you back).

Aside from the typical complement of migraine headache symptoms, my personal little collection includes facial pain, muscle spasms in my neck or upper back, and a sensation that my heart is pounding along with an ability to hear or feel it pound in my left ear. In addition, my husband always tells me I feel feverish but I never have a fever. There’s also a kind of weird altered consciousness that I couldn’t describe if you asked me to – just a sense of everything being ever-so-slightly off.

I said earlier that the prodromal phase is the longest, but that’s only true when medication works. An unmedicated episodic migraine headache can last anywhere from four to 72 hours.

Then there’s chronic migraine.

For nearly a decade of my life, I had chronic migraine and “status migrainosus,” meaning a migraine that never really went away. You heard that right – a years-long headache that waxed and waned but never disappeared. And yes, it came with all of the above symptoms mixed in with prodromal and postdromal symptoms in a kind of general stew of unwellness; a sort of ouroboros of illness.

It was impossible to sort out, and much more than just a headache. But medication helps, and I literally praise God for triptans and for giving human beings the ability to concoct medications!

But let me circle back to my second statement of this post: there are good things about the headache phase.

It was during a medication-resistant migraine as I lay in a darkish room with my arm draped over my eyes that I first really grasped what the Lord Jesus did for humanity.

The thing is, I rebelled against my Creator, mocked Him, mocked His people, and tried to set myself up as my own little deity. For this, I deserve annihilation. Pain is a mercy, when you think about it, because pain is a signal that there’s something wrong. And if you deserve to be unmade, pain is a slap on the hand. Even after surrendering to the Lord, I fall short of holiness every day. Even my very best deeds are tainted by selfishness. If I may be brutal in my candor, I have become keenly aware of my own thirst for reciprocity or recognition and I would love to be free of it. I am far from selfless.

But the entire earthly life of Jesus exemplified selflessness. He did not deserve pain; He didn’t even deserve to don this moist and malfunctioning mess of meat, bone, nerve, and vessels we call a body.

The One through Whom all things were created didn’t deserve to submit to the humiliation of becoming an infant; of being hungry or thirsty or cold or any of the unpleasantness that comes of being human. And He most certainly did not deserve to have the eternal fellowship with the Father severed by taking on the foulness of my sin – not to mention the sins of the entire world – and endure an excruciating death devised by the twisted mind of His own creation.

Yet He entered into sorrow and anguish to pay the cost of all our sin in order that we could be free from it and once more enter into the Divine Presence by donning the righteousness of Jesus to cover our shame. Because of this, I have found a sweetness in my suffering and a unique fellowship with my Lord in pain.

Because of what He endured for me, I am even able to thank Him for the pain that helped me understand a little bit more. It is good for me that I was afflicted.

Can a Corpse Be Pleasing?

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

I have a crazy question for you: has a corpse every done anything you find pleasing?

Humor me for a minute. I’ve been thinking about how the Scriptures teach that we are dead in sin. Romans 6:23 tells us the wages of sin is death – literally, we earn death by sinning – but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Other Scriptures talk about it too – Ephesians 2 starts off by telling us we were dead in our trespasses and sins and Romans 8 contrasts walking by the Spirit of God and walking in the death of sin, and so on.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins. . .

Ephesians 2:1

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. . . But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness.

Romans 8:6, 10

We are spiritual corpses without Christ; the literal walking dead. So that’s been on my mind; then on Sunday, our pastor was preaching from John 3 and talked about Nicodemus, the Pharisee and ruler. This man probably knew the Tanakh (Scriptures of the time) about as well as he knew his name.

As Jay said, Nicodemus grew up understanding that if he memorized all these Scriptures, did all the right things, and followed all the rules, God would be pleased with him.

It hit me funny: how can God be pleased with a corpse? Who’s ever pleased with a corpse?

If a corpse could do anything at all, it could only do rotten things. Dead things. It just reminds me of how Jesus said in John 15 that apart from Him, we can do nothing.

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

John 15:4-5

Think about that today. God loved you so much when you were a corpse that He sent His only Son to bring you to life.

That’s how loved you are. Go in that love today.

Perspective

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them.
But their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

Luke 24:15-16

Some things never change.

When Jesus of Nazareth walked the dusty streets of the Middle East as a Man, His ministry evoked a wide range of emotions from God’s chosen people. He had His detractors, of course; people who hated His inconvenient tendency to tear down self-righteous facades and expose the unseemly rot within the human heart.

But even among His supporters were an astonishing number who loved Him for what they expected Him to do. They watched His ministry with excitement, anticipating the the moment He would declare Himself Judah’s King and lead them in revolt against the oppressive Roman government. They missed out on the greater freedom He actually came to provide.

Fast forward a couple thousand years, and we find a similar mix of emotions.

It’s not surprising many people continue to hate the uncomfortable teachings of Jesus concerning sin and sacrifice. What surprises me is this: Despite Jesus’s clear statements – recorded in the Word – that His Kingdom is not of this world, there are still SO MANY who are looking for the King of kings to bring political and socioeconomic peace.

I suppose it was naïve of me to believe His followers today would listen to His words more than those who saw Him in the flesh. Both then and now, however, the truth of Jesus hasn’t changed. He didn’t give His life to reform our governments, cultures, or social systems.

He gave it to reform us.

This fact is worth repeating. The Lamb of God was not sacrificed to make the world a better place to live but to save each one of us from the penalty of our own crimes against our Creator.

Jesus came because we are the reason the world is in its present state.

The effects of sin are so pervasive, every element of our lives is twisted by them – including our understanding of right and wrong, of truth and justice. Sin’s putrefaction is so complete as to taint even our most noble deeds with the foul reek of death.

Until the glorious Day when the Lord comes again, this world will not be a nice place to live. In fact, it’s even predicted in the Scriptures that it will get worse.

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived.

2 Timothy 3:12-13

For those of us who are truly in Christ Jesus, this is not bad news. The worst other men can do is to kill us, and as Paul wrote, “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”

While we remain here, our mission is to tell others of our great Hope – that although we are born into separation from our Maker with hearts filled with evil in a world corrupted into chaos, our God loves us so much that He gave His Divine Son to bridge the impossible gap so we could once more be reunited with Him, both in the midst of this crooked generation and forever long after this age is ancient history.

This is the Good News. This is the Gospel.

But don’t take my word for it. Search the Scriptures for yourself with a humble and prayerful heart.

You Keep Using That Word, Part 2: Progressive

~ Heather Davis ~ 15 Comments

I need to preface this with a shoutout to the author whose podcast and book put a name to a dark and nameless dissonance I’d been often frustrated by in my walk with the Lord.

As an atheist who came to know God through the Bible long before stepping into a church congregation, I’d puzzled for years over a disconnect I found between me and some who call themselves Christian. We used the same terms, claimed the same Lord, even referenced a few of the same Scriptures, but what we meant by these things didn’t seem to mesh.

Then I heard Alisa Childers reference Progressive Christianity. Whether by the guidance of the Holy Spirit, instinct, or both, I knew this was the name of the lurking menace I’d encountered.

If you’re looking for an excellent Christmas present or a great Christmastime read for yourself, I HIGHLY recommend Another Gospel? by Alisa Childers. She writes with grace, tact, and candor of how a self-proclaimed “flaky artist type” took a plunge into the deep waters of apologetics and learned that her faith is built on Rock-solid ground.

Buy it. Read it. You won’t be sorry. Now on to today’s program:

I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel— not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.

Galatians 1:6-8

Progressive. The word just sounds so… dynamic, doesn’t it?

It hints at sophistication; of gaining ground. When attached to a noun, this adjective lends a sense of importance, of forward motion, and of… well, of progress.

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

– Inigo Montoya

But in truth, progress isn’t the significant thing. Making progress in the right direction is of far greater importance.

Four times now, I’ve made excellent progress on a hike – along a route that diverged moderately from the planned path. Once my companion and I forsook the path entirely and struck out on our own.

Such enthusiastic and progressive hiking experiences culminated in a variety of results. One particularly memorable result involved an unintended tour of adjacent mountaintops while keeping one eye on the sun’s position in the sky and the other on our (fortunately) distinctive goal.

We did make it to the goal before sunset, though our appearance must have been alarming. We were immediately offered food and water.

I suppose experiences like these have taught me to be cautious of vague descriptors such as progressive.

So when I first heard of “progressive Christianity,” I initially responded with a mixture of puzzled disbelief and a primal shock of icy horror.

If progressing up the wrong mountainside prompted wide-eyed day hikers to thrust their half-empty water bottles towards me, what is the appropriate response for people progressing towards the wrong eternity?

Though we’re easily lulled into believing our physical, mental, and emotional needs are the most important thing in life, the plight of those meandering comfortably and happily down the broad path to destruction is far more desperate than, say, a starving hiker lost in the backcountry with nothing but the clothes on his body and the seal of the Holy Spirit on his heart.

Progressive Christianity shares very little with actual followers of Jesus the Christ. It is progressively moving towards quite a different goal. A more honest devotee would call it progressive churchianity – or even what it is – secular humanism dressed in a dollar-store Jesus costume complete with Anglo-Saxon features.

Ironically, Christianity as it is understood through the Word of God, the teachings of the Christ, and the early Church is progressive.

It speaks of progressively becoming more like Jesus of Nazareth; of progressively dying to oneself and one’s sin; of daily progress towards the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Of progressive expectations of persecution and suffering laced with the joy of knowing it all has a purpose and an eternal hope.

However, the other thing wears the name of Christianity much like decaf wears the name of coffee. It has little of the flavor and none of the power.

What passes under the title of progressive Christianity has a form of godliness but denies its power. It promises something which resembles peace on earth and good will towards men while assuming a lack of peace and good will among men is the worst part.

Progressive Christianity treats the spiritual equivalent of ebola with a splash of lavender essential oil and a sweet little smile.

And it is making progress in our churches. Just not in the right direction.

Testify!

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

I don’t normally do this, but a sweet friend and sister in Christ was moved by my last post to share a testimony of God at work in her life. I found her story deeply moving and was humbled by her transparency.

I especially wanted to share it now as we can clearly see our enemy prowls around like a roaring lion, waiting for someone to devour as 1 Peter 5:8 tells us. With her permission, I am sharing it here with you, edited slightly to protect her privacy:

“Scripture says, ‘Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins’ (James 5:20).

In the spirit of 1 Corinthians 6:9-11, I wanted to share a piece of my story with you to give you some hope that Jesus can and will transform the hearts and minds of those you see behaving inappropriately—if they let him do so.

In the summer of 2018, my family and I left Station Hill (and church altogether) for about a year.  I was still deeply wounded from a Life Group experience gone wrong several months prior.  I’d struggled with them since the beginning, a chunk of which was my own fault.  I’d gotten into a couple of disagreements on social media about politics with a group member.  My natural political inclinations are center-left; the other’s are solidly right.  (Looking back, soooo embarrassing and immature.  I was willing to sacrifice the unity of the church and my and their Christian witness for my rights and rightness.)

The final straw came, though, when the pastor referenced the Supreme Court and abortion amidst the nasty Kavanaugh confirmation saga.  I’d had it.  I walked out of that church, didn’t talk to the pastor or anyone else, and was determined never to return.

To my dismay, however, God wouldn’t leave me alone about Station Hill or break my emotional ties entirely with the people of the church.  (They’d already walked with my husband and me through an intense season of infertility, but that’s another long story.  In addition, there’s gonna be using a lot of “I” pronouns since this is my story; my husband has his own perspective.)

I eventually returned once the church scheduled a meeting about how to support families at the border, a pro-life cause that I felt was being ignored by both the local church and the global white American evangelical one.  I kept coming periodically.  The pastor didn’t throw stones at me from the pulpit, and the two close friends there I had remaining generously welcomed me back.

The political sermon in the “True North” series was particularly healing for me.  I finally let the Spirit convict me enough to email the pastor to repent of treating the church like a country club instead of a family and for any hurt I’d caused by leaving the way I did.  He was gracious, extended the forgiveness to me I didn’t deserve, and invited me to ask any questions I had remaining.  Of course, those questions involved politics and revealed my heart of idolatry–which the pastor could see but I couldn’t at that point.

In a sermon a couple of weeks later, the pastor used a quote from Hudson Taylor that I hope I never forget–‘Christ is either Lord of all, or is not Lord at all.’  


You know how sometimes it seems that the pastor is looking straight at you?  That was one of those times for me.  I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart; I very nearly burst into tears.  Jesus is my Savior, and I’d really thought He was my Lord.  It hurt me that the pastor didn’t think that Jesus was my Lord–‘Faithful are the wounds of a friend’ (Proverbs 27:6), though, because I obviously hadn’t surrendered to His Lordship when it came to politics. 

That statement, combined with a Coffee House Theology podcast on Galatians 4 that I just “happened” to tune into–about not letting the Judaizers (or their modern equivalent) lure you back into bondage—sparked some immense spiritual growth and love and healing.  I feel like I was “born again” again.   

While I haven’t been politically perfect since that time, God has been so gracious and patient and slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love to keep forgiving, teaching, and redirecting me.

I was obedient to let God remove me from a state government job that at that point was reinforcing my ungodly tendencies.  With the pastor’s sermons, I was able to finally see that I was trying to uphold government as the instrument of redemption, trying fruitlessly to force society to skip from brokenness to restoration without going through Jesus.

I surprised myself that when President Trump got Covid, my genuine desire was to pray for him instead of to gloat.  I opted to attend the Women’s Night at church rather than to watch another fruitless, divisive presidential debate.


Other followers of Jesus, not some political party that will rise and fall, are my true tribe now and forever will be.   💗 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rDeiy9-t2GE ” – L. P.

A Prayer of Thanksgiving

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment
This prayer was originally published on my old blog in 2012. It’s no less true today. Happy Thanksgiving!

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Father, Provider,Comforter, Deliverer, I have much to thank You for today. You have given me so many blessings, and for many such as food, shelter, clothing, and health I have expressed my gratitude numerous times. Yet there are blessings I have neglected to thank You for, in part because I have only recently recognized some elements of my life as blessings.

Betsie Ten Boom once thanked You for the fleas in the filthy concentration camp barracks she was imprisoned in, only later to discover that it was the fleas that enabled Your word to be spread and shared without interference from the guards. She was wiser than I and recognized that Your blessings do not always come dressed in a package the human mind appreciates. I have neglected to thank You for the “fleas” in my life, and today I intend to do so.

Lord, thank You for long, friendless spans of time in my pre-Christ life. Those periods of separation, though they chafed at the time, prepared me to walk the narrow path unaccompanied at times when I find that it is necessary to choose between walking alone or forsaking Your way. Thank You that feeling rejected then has galvanized me against being rejected now, for the zeal I now have for You and Your Word is not always readily embraced, and I again find myself categorized as a freak, albeit for better reasons this time around!

 Thank You that the same loneliness left me with a tremendous ache that was oh, so ready to be soothed by Your love. My heart had been seared by suppressed anger, by fear and rejection, and by my own bad choices, and it was calloused and numb. The shock of meeting You, the realness of You, pierced through and made a start from which You began Your patient work of pruning. It hurt, but I knew somehow even then that it was worth it–that You were worth it. Thank You for carefully debriding and then healing the fathomless wounds of my heart.

 Thank You for bringing me away from my hometown, for causing every friend I thought I had to desert me, for showing me the intense suffering of a young person dying of cancer, and for bringing me to the point of questioning every worldly philosophy my non-believing self had embraced. Without being confronted with death, I may have never found life. Without that sobering morbidity thrust into my directionless, bar-hopping lifestyle, I may have continued in my flippant attitude about death, life, and all things Christian. Thank You for forgiving me of the disrespectful manner towards You that was my custom at the time. Thank You, also, that in those small acts of betrayal and desertion, in the agonies I witnessed, and in the death of self I experienced, I am not alone. Jesus, too, experienced those things, and so I know my Redeemer can also empathize.

Thank You for the headaches and other pains of aging today that are a constant reminder that the outer man is wasting away but the inner man is being renewed day by day. Thank You, too, for the increasing slips of my mind and waning of physical strength that remind me that Your power is perfected in weakness. In the relentless decay of self, I find that apart from You I truly can do nothing.

Thank You for allowing me to walk through times of darkness and despair in my Christian life, for in those bleak spells I have learned that You truly are with me wherever I go even through the valley of the shadow of death. Thank You, also, that in those times of desolation You have stripped away all the consolations of religious feeling, all my pride, and even the sense of gratification that comes of service to others or to You. You have utterly flayed my soul until all of me was raw and naked, weeping before You.

Painful as that those times were, in them I have found that at last I know where my allegiance honestly lies and it is no longer to myself. With my spirit laid bare and bereft even of the longing for You and the satisfaction of knowing You, You gave me the blessing at last of utter assurance in this: I cannot be separated from You. When You asked me, “Would you, also, like to leave Me?”  I can now echo Peter in saying, “Lord, to whom shall I go? You have the words of eternal life!”

 Thank You for the times of financial crisis my husband and I have been through. I thank You specifically for the time when we had a single car, single income, both a baby and a mother-in-law to support, a tiny duplex where we all lived, no television, basic phone service, no Internet, and no cell phones. Though it did not make sense, we chose to forsake my income and obey Your voice that I should stay home with our infant and our future children. We learned so much: That You truly provide for our needs always, that there is a very distinct difference in what we need and what we want, that You bless obedience even when obedience does not make human sense.

We are in a different stage of life now, Lord, and we have so much that I sometimes take it for granted. I find I am now feeling that my needs have increased  when in fact it is only my wants that have increased. Lord, forgive me for presuming upon Your provision and thank You for the lessons You taught me in poverty. Should You choose to remove all the material gifts You have lavished on us, I will still follow You. You are my God. You are my Portion. You are my Reward.

And I am Yours, wholly Yours. Thank You for all the blessings of pain, irritation, and desolation that have brought me to this conclusion. Thank You for the fleas–every last one of them