testing, testing

I realize that you can read the Bible and find that Jesus would pretty much be amazing at any job. For example, The Master Plan of Evangelism explains how Jesus is a mastermind by entrusting the entire future of the faith into 12 incompetent disciples and then giving them Holy Spirit to carry it out. Every great CEO, teacher, doctor, parent, firefighter, policemen, judge, lawyer and engineer are but shadows of Christ.

And they were astonished beyond measure, saying, "He has done all things well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak." (Mark 7:37)
I also happen to believe that Jesus would make the best programmer alive, because he knows about TDD.

TDD stands for "Test-Driven Development", and it's a method of programming (and it's pretty dang effective). There's 5 steps to this process:

1) Add a test.
2) Run all tests, make sure the new one fails.
3) Write some code.
4) Run tests.
5) Refactor code.

Then you repeat.

TDD really works because you never fix something until you're sure it's broken. And until you add a test in, you don't realize that something isn't working.

We hate it when the tests come in our lives, and when we fail those new tests. We realize we weren't a finished product, and it hurts to realize that we aren't perfect. But the beautiful thing is that it leaves God room to write some new code, polish and spruce up what wasn't working before.

TDD only works because you make sure the code will fail the new test. It really helps to know that we were meant to fail the tests:

"For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin." (Romans 3:20)
Because that's the only way that we can be changed, and that's where God can rewire us from trusting in our own flesh to looking to the Cross where He refactored everything. We no longer get what we deserve, because Jesus got what He didn't deserve. We get what we didn't deserve, because Jesus got what He didn't deserve.

Chris

reentry

I've always hated space movies.

My family (especially my dad) had an obsession with Tom Hanks movies, so I grew up watching and hearing quotes from Apollo 13, Castaway and Forrest Gump over and over and over again. Apollo 13 in particular terrified me to no end - the thought of being a cosmic drifter for eternity was unsettling.

In the movie, Jim Lovell, the main character, is focused on his one mission to make it to the moon. But there's some dramatic irony there as the movie isn't really about getting to the moon. The plot revolves more around his family and all he's leaving behind...


This past week, I've learned a lot about myself. There were some responsibilities I had, and my irresponsibility ended up dumping the burden on other people. I had an argument with my parents because I want to go to Indonesia and they thought it was too dangerous. I had fears concerning the next few years of my life, knowing that the road will only get steeper.

All these situations exposed that I had been living in isolation. I didn't realize that when I drop a ball, someone else has to pick it up. I didn't realize that failing to communicate my intentions and situation fully with my parents meant that they would make faulty assumptions about where I was going and what I was doing. I didn't realize that there were people around me who are willing to carry my burdens and fears with me and who are directly influenced by my decisions and actions, and that I am as much affected by their decisions and actions though I've fought my whole life to be completely self-sufficient.

I spent my life shooting for the moon. Training to jump into a rocket and launching off as far away as I could from people, basking in my own glory and hoping I'd be recognized by the world. My aspiration has been to impress the world, not to relate with it.

I'd become an astronaut. Lost in space. Alone in space.


Lovell is shipped off into space with his two partners, and everything goes wrong. And in the days he spent shuddering in the cold isolation of outer space, he discovers what actually matters.

Jim: "Gentlemen, what are your intentions?"

[Jack Swigert and Fred Haise turn around and stare at Lovell]

Jim: "I'd like to go home."
When the astronauts finally find a way to return home, they strap themselves in their seats for a bumpy ride. Reentry meant that the command module they were in would heat up significantly as it plunged through the atmosphere. The external temperature of the module could heat up to 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit, but the temperature inside the command module remained cool; most of the heat being absorbed by the heat shield surrounding the module that would erode away as the descent progressed.

The fall comes to an end in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Rescue ships arrive to bring the astronauts safely home.


It's time for reentry. I see the heat coming. Circumstances, responsibilities, difficulties, hardships, and trials. But the temperature remains cool - because whatever comes my way externally, I have a heat shield:

"The Lord is my strength and my shield..." (Psalm 28:7)

"He answered and said, 'But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.'" (Daniel 3:25)

"...when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you." (Isaiah 43:2b)
The module ultimately lands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. And that's where I'd like to find myself at the end of this next season of life. An ocean of grace, love, and people.

"If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." (How He Loves, John Mark McMillan)

Chris

be the best

http://www.iamsecond.com/seconds/pete-briscoe/

"It's exhausting being the best."

This is a video I shared with my LIFE group this past week. If there's anything I'm being reminded of in this season of life, it's the truth that success doesn't bring us closer to God, but it can quite easily become a wall we put up against him.

In January, I saw a picture of myself listing all that I had accomplished in life on a scroll. I stood facing the scroll and wrote line after line of what I had done. And as I wrote, the scroll was slowly being unwound and it grew longer and longer. Right behind the scroll stood Jesus, who longed to give me grace and look on me with eyes of love. Yet the longer the scroll became, the more of Him it obscured. The challenge in the moment was to throw the scroll in the flames.

I believe it's worth it.
For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh—though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3:3-11)

Chris

faith, works, and action

"God helps those who help themselves."

I've faced this statement before and immediately dismissed it as advocating a works-based salvation. But recently, God's been opening my eyes of the importance of faith in action.

"So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead." (James 2:17)

I know why it rubs me the wrong way. I see the situation, I know I cannot overcome it by my own strength, and I cannot possibly bear to think that God would demand something of me that was impossible of my own means. So I turn away, rebel, reject God, and make the excuse that salvation is not about works.

As a causative statement, "God helps those who help themselves" is heretical. We would be saying, "If I help myself, God will help me." It is not because we help ourselves that God helps us. We did not take the initiative. God took the initiative and sent His Son Jesus to die for us. "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly." (Romans 5:6).

But as a descriptive statement, I do believe that it is true that when God is helping someone, they have the strength to get on their feet and run with faith. Perhaps more like, "When God is helping someone, they find the strength to help themselves." The Biblical definition of faith is below:

"And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him." (Hebrews 11:6)

Something that amazed me this past week was the part of this verse that says "he rewards those who seek him." I realized that faith requires an earnest seeking, an effort on our part to be true. No one who refuses to move can be called a man of faith.

The people who sit and do nothing are almost as bad as the people who try to do everything on their own. They do not believe God can change their situation, so they say, "What's the use? God's in control anyway, and things aren't gonna change." A failure to believe God will reward those who earnestly seek Him, that He is good. They are paralyzed. I have been paralyzed for so much of my life.

As for those who try to do it all on their own, reality just hasn't hit yet. Reality that with man all things are impossible, but with God all things are possible. When I think this, I can only pray that God humbles me.

This truth amazes me and yet makes me tremble in fear. Because I realize that to live a life of faith is to live a life of the impossible, and I know I am not capable of it. I cannot guarantee the future but only hope that God is near and that He leads me through. It's exciting.

Chris

make do

I had a great dinner conversation with someone last night. He shared about his time being away from church people and how it has been teaching him about reality. People nag him about coming back to church - his family, his church friends, everyone - and at times, the pressure seems to drive him further away.

He fumbled for words a bit before describing what he's been facing in his time away. In his words:
"I hate saying this because it's cheesy, but there's no better word to describe what I've been seeing in the world than 'brokenness.'... But I realized that when you're genuinely vulnerable with people, you start to understand their point of view."
That amazed me. It dawned on me that he's probably been learning more about Jesus in these past few months than he had been attending church regularly for 20 years. He's learning about the reality of Christ breaking into broken lives, the reality of a Jesus who's vulnerable so that he can sympathize with our weaknesses; he's encountering a Jesus that's bigger than church events.

I unabashedly love the Church and I love my church. I remember how lonely I was in high school and how grateful I am to have people around me who will help me follow Christ and who I can love and be loved by. I'm so thankful to have people to fight this fight and run this race for the gospel with. But my friend doesn't see that. He doesn't understand why people in the church didn't see reality the way he'd been seeing it in his unbelieving friends. In its messiness and brokenness.

But I've seen that brokenness and messiness in church people just the same. The flesh that lives in us is genuinely terrifying to face at times. The I-wish-you-to-hell moments we have with people we're supposed to love, the I-will-crush-you-to-get-my-due zeal that overshadows the love of Christ. I know I have it.

I see why there's reason to be frustrated at church people, but there's reason for hope. I don't think the church holds together because the people in it are less broken or more religious or have it easier in any way.
And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. (Colossians 1:17-18)
I invited him to come to church again, but not because the people will be better. It's because despite the junk, somehow, we have to work with who we've got, not who we'd like to have. The truth in all of it is that God will make do. He'll make something beautiful out of us. I give it all to You, God
Trusting that You'll make something beautiful out of me

Chris

beauty

Photo Shows Muslims Protecting Church in Egypt as Congregants Attend Mass

There was a time when I would read an article like this and wonder to myself, "What exactly does it mean to be Christians, if people who follow insert religion here can be better people?"

But the beautiful thing about following Christ and not just religion is that that is exactly the point. My life aim isn't to be better than the pious Muslim or Buddhist. If I tried, I might be able to accomplish it; but even if I did, it would add nothing to my life:
"For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die... " (Romans 5:7)
Perhaps for a good person one would dare to die, but Jesus did the unthinkable by dying for not only the righteous but even sinners:
"... but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)
And that's how God finds me. Not as a "good Christian" or a good human being but as a sinner. This is where my hope is built. And that hope won't change no matter how much better of a person I may become (which does happen, mind you...).

So I read the article and I see Jesus' beauty reflected in the actions of Muslim leaders. Jesus stood up for the oppressed, and he defended a sinful woman being stoned. He loved the unlovable. I rejoice that this is the Savior I worship; exactly the kind of saving I need; the kind of love that is reflected in this act.

May we all come to see the beauty of Jesus everyday.

Chris

the big story

"When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written." (John 21:25 ESV)

A few guys and myself were talking about the Bible yesterday, and we somehow got to the topic of why there are four gospel accounts in the Bible and not just one. One of the guys said that it's because everyone has a different story that Jesus writes in their lives and hence a different vantage point to speak of Him from. He concluded that this is why we cannot give people enough advice to solve all their problems because often, God uses a mix of wisdom from people, the Bible and our circumstances to bring us to Him.
I agree, and I believe that one of the best ways of counseling people is to tell them how Jesus has worked in similar struggles of my own, because it doesn't guarantee a formulaic solution but instead points to Jesus, who he is, and what He does. It's no ten-step plan, but it provides a relational hope that no book can substitute for.
So the question isn't why there are four accounts for one story... for they are all different stories, just with the same main character. And somehow they all come together into an even bigger story. I suppose there couldn't possibly be enough books for how much Jesus has done.

Chris

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