Man In The Mirror

James 1:22-25

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving ourselves.  For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like.  But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.

Our eleven-year-old, Henry, has entered one of life’s phases.  He has started to ask advice for hair products, facial cleansers, and workout routines.  This development is a deviation from the forced showers and haircuts that we are used to experiencing.  However, at some point in each of our adolescences, the visage in the mirror fails to meet the benchmark set by young teens across the world.  I think we can all relate to those “precious” years of puberty when we looked in the mirror and did not like what we saw.  We did not meet the standard set by the latest idol or heartthrob gracing the magazine covers.  Therefore, like Henry, we immediately set to work remedying the ruin that hormones, genetics, and hygiene so unfairly wrecked upon our reflection.

Our Wednesday Bible study is in the midst of Exodus, specifically the ten commandments.  God’s law being presented to the Israelites following their deliverance, so essential to their relationship with the Lord, poses challenges in an era defined by Grace through Jesus Christ.   The law presents a confusing piece of our spiritual development; we seemingly have to walk a precarious ridge between Godly obedience, yet not leaning too much on our own works for salvation.   To this, God delivers a helpful metaphor through James in describing the law as a mirror.

Just as God’s will is revealed in the law (especially the moral law), so is our own spiritual condition. Our very imperfect image against the “perfect law” exposes our need for grace and demands a reaction.  A toddler who looks in the mirror, seeing the mud on his face, laughs carelessly, and moves along.  A teenager believes in the higher power of popularity, however falsely, and seeks to please the opinions of others by pursuing perfection in their image. Of course, we never obtain that perfection, and over emphasizing its pursuit is misguided.  Ultimately, we each long to find someone who overlooks our bad haircut, ignores this week’s breakout, and does not care that our outfit is outdated.  If we find that person, how blessed we are!  And if that person bought us a shirt that “looks good on you”, how disrespectful it would be to keep it forever on a hanger.

Christ died for us in our awkward phase, the mirror’s reflection stained in sin.  Yet we are given something to help clean up our look. John Calvin wrote, “It is therefore faith alone which justifies, and yet the faith which justifies is not alone.” The law is a gift, a diagnostic tool, given by God, so that our faith journey is not without compass.  We are given the knowledge of how to please the one who accepted us despite our horridness.  We can embrace obedience, knowing that doing so is pleasing the one who loves us most.  We will experience the joy of the Spirit, as those old “guilty-pleasure” outfits are thrown away, replaced with the robes of obedience that never fall out of style.   

In Christ,

Thomas Goodrich

Kintsugi

Kintsugi is the Japanese art form of repairing and displaying broken pottery.  Instead of hiding the flaws, or discarding the pottery altogether, the broken pieces are carefully reassembled and rejoined via lacquer, dusted with a precious metal, such as gold, silver or platinum.  The point is not to conceal the damage, but actually highlight the cracks and fractures, celebrating it as an intrinsic aspect of the object’s history, which offers a unique and even more beautiful appearance.  Through this process, the pottery becomes a transformed vessel, more valuable, not less, because it has been broken yet redeemed.

We, ourselves, are vessels of Kintsugi.  We live in this juxtaposition as God’s amphibians, creatures of spirit and flesh; being created in His image (Gen. 1:27) yet fallen (Gen. 3:1-24).  While sin cast us from the Garden, we were not beyond redemption, just beyond self-repair (Rom. 3:23).  As the Kintugi artist, through Christ, God does not discard us.  He redeems and restores us, not by erasing our scars, but by transforming them into testimonies of grace:  “But he said tome, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” (2 Cor. 12:9).  Like the gold-infused fractures in the Kintsugi pottery, our past sins and present struggles, when met with grace, become markers of God’s mercy and power, not shame (Rom. 8:1; 1 Tim. 1:15-16).

This image of a broken yet redeemed vessel resonates with how the Bible describes our lives in Christ.  Paul offers this contrast by proposing that while we are freed from sin (Rom. 6:18), we are also sold under sin (Rom.7:14).  We are, as Paul writes, both “wretched man” and “redeemed by Christ” (Rom. 7:24–25). We still struggle within—Paul confesses he often does what he hates (Rom. 7:15)—yet we are also being sanctified, reshaped by the grace of God. The cracks remain visible, but they are now filled with the mercy of Christ. The Reformed tradition affirms this paradox: we are simul justus et peccator—simultaneously justified and sinful.  Though we are declared righteous in Christ, we still wrestle with the flesh.  

We can see this in ourselves as individuals, but what does this mean for us, collectively, within the church, as a community of believers?  Perhaps it means that we do not expect perfection from one another (1 John 1:8). In fact, we know we will miss the mark; what we agree upon is where to aim.  We bear with one another and forgive each other (Col. 3:13), as Christ forgave us.  We stir one another up to love and good works, not through guilt or legalism, but through encouragement and shared hope(Heb. 10:24-25).  The beauty of the church is not in its perfection, but in its Redeemer.  We are an art gallery of Kintsugi vessels—each of us cracked, but mended by Christ’s grace.  The gold that fills our fractures is not our righteousness, but His.         

As we worship, serve and grow together, let us see each other through the eyes of the Master Craftsman:  not defined by our brokenness, but through the beauty of redemption is working in us all.

In Christ,

Mort Taylor

Quenching Your Thirst

The first time I ever remember being really thirsty is still clearly etched in my mind. I was a young boy, and I had been playing a little league baseball game. I was absolutely parched after the game, so my dad gave me enough money to buy a soft drink at the concession stand. When I got to the stand, I noticed how good the chocolate caramel candy looked, so I used the money I had to buy candy instead of a soft drink.

On the way home, I got an unwelcome surprise. Not only was my mouth dry, but it was stuck together from my lips to my throat. I thought I would surely die before I got home. I couldn’t even swallow. Can you imagine how good that water tasted when I got to it? I considered how before that, I thought water was tasteless, but it surely tasted sweet on that particular evening.

You can’t quench thirst with candy; I learned that the hard way. But we as people also have a spiritual type of thirst. Specifically, we crave a personal relationshipwith God, and no substitute will quench that thirst. This need is a craving more deep than physical thirst, although we often don’t recognize it as such.

In John 4, Jesus met a woman with this spiritual longing for God. We find that she had tried to substitute other things to quench it, like several relationships with men and religion. It hadn’t worked. Jesus told this woman that he had the solution to her deepest longings, which included her thirst for personal relationship with God.  She responded, and her life was forever changed.

As people, we often substitute many things in an attempt to fill that void that we all experience. It may be relationships, overeating, drugs, workaholism – you name it. But only a personal relationship with God can fill that void.

Chocolate caramel candy doesn’t quench thirst; only water does. Likewise, nothing else fills our deepest spiritual longings except communion with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus accomplished all that was needed for people to enjoy endless, perfect, unbroken fellowship with God because of what we celebrated last week during Holy Week: Jesus’ death on the cross to endure the judgment we deserved so we could be declared fully forgiven and righteous before God, his resurrection in power to confirm all he is and all he accomplished, and his ascension to serve as our constant advocate in the heavenly places. Eternal life and adoption into God’s family forever are God’s gifts through Christ, and that personal family relationship with God is the only thing that will truly quench our spiritual thirst.

May we drink freely and enjoy, because of God’s immeasurable gift in Christ.

Yours in Christ,

Chris Heinss

It Is Finished

At my core, I naturally drift towards a “works based” belief in salvation.  That is, I don’t “deserve” salvation unless I have earned it.  To me, life is just a big balance sheet of “debits” on the left and “credits” on the right.  This flows over to every facet of my life.  Not sure anyone else can relate, but I become anxious when I go out to dinner with friends, and we “split” the bill.  If I order a salad and my friend did not, I make a mental note that I am now indebted to my friend for the wedge salad that I ordered.  And if I never repay that “debt,” I feel guilty.  It is a horrible way to live.  

As we turn our focus to the cross this Holy Week, let us recall the last words of Jesus on the cross as recorded by the apostle John:  “It is finished” (John 19:30). With this simple, three-word cry, Jesus declares that there is nothing more to be done concerning our salvation.  “It is finished” affirms that Jesus’ work on the cross was sufficient and effective—once and for all time.  “It is finished” are words of comfort for people like me who are burdened by the guilt of their imperfect lives (that is, all the “debits” of sin on the balance sheet of life that can never be offset by the too few “credits” of good works).  “It is finished” means that Christ on the cross paid in full the penalty we deserved for our sins.

One of my favorite “theologian/pastors,” Ben Lacy Rose put it this way:  “The check that Jesus wrote in His blood on Calvary had my name written on it—and yours too if you believe His Word.  On the Day of Judgment (and there surely will be such a day), there will be a Bill of Indictment against me.  All my sins will be listed there; and it will be a long list!  But since Calvary, there has been written across the face of my bill:  PAID IN FULL.  ***** Because of the atonement wrought by Christ on Calvary, my salvation is forever settled and sure; and so is yours, if you believe in God’s Word.  So, we do not wonder what will happen to us at Judgment.  We can say with Paul, “There is therefore no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). That is good news!  That is the heart of the Gospel! With that confidence we can go on our way rejoicing!”

In sum, before I even sat down to the table to eat, Jesus paid the tab for me.  My faith in the finished atonement (that he has already paid the bill) is all the saving faith necessary to await that heavenly banquet.  “It is finished.”  What blessed assurance!

In Christ,

Carter Dukes