Shining Isn't So Beautiful After All

The Lord has been speaking to me a lot about SHINING lately.

Today I was reading in Romans 13 and came across this verse: "Put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light."

Whoa. Armor of light. That brought my mind racing all the way back to Ephesians 6:10-18, the passage that talks about the armor of God. These two pieces of equipment are one in the same. The armor of God includes the weapons God has given us to fight the enemy: the Word of God, prayer, faith, salvation, righteousness, and peace. Only by equipping ourselves with every piece of the armor -- without one piece missing -- can we fight the spiritual battle that we are in.

The passage in Romans 13 shed new light (Haha, see what I did there?) on my understanding of the armor of God. By using the prepositional phrase "of light," after "armor," Paul is tying back to what he proclaimed in one of his letters.

"...Become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life..." (Philippians 2:15-16)

Basically, Paul is commending us to shine like stars as Christians. We are to stand out among the darkness in our world, and we do this by proclaiming the Gospel of Christ. As Christians, we are called into relationship with God and community with other Christians in order to go out and tell the world about Jesus' saving working on the cross.

But how does one go about this? How does one truly shine the light of Christ, and not of self?

Last week I was browsing Facebook when one of my mentors posted this quote. I don't know who it's from or where she got it, but it struck something within me.

"Shining is always costly. Light comes only at the cost of that which produces it. An unlit candle does no shining. Burning must come before shining. We cannot be of great use to others without cost to ourselves."

I don't know if this is a Christian quote or just a philanthropic quote, but either way, it provides an answer to my question.

Shining cannot occur without burning. And burning hurts.

What does burning entail? Paul gives the answer coincidentally -- or maybe not -- just before he talks about shining like stars. A few verse earlier, we read...

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,

did not consider equality with God

something to be grasped,

but made Himself nothing,

taking on the very nature of a servant,

being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

he humbled himself

and became obedient to death --

even death on a cross!" (Philippians 2:5-8)

That is death. That is burning. That is what Christ our Savior did on the cross for us, and we are called to do the same.

That brings me to another quote (Sorry, the Lord just speaks to me through quotes a lot! Haha.): "Jesus did not die on the cross just to save us from our sins; He died on the cross to teach us how to die on our own cross!"

WOW. That's powerful. No, we cannot forget that Jesus saved us from our sins on the cross. That itself is salvation -- the act of trust and surrendering to God that gives us eternal life. But there was more to Jesus' act than that!

Jesus taught you and me how to die on our own cross by his own act on the cross. Philippians 2:5-8 (above) perfectly correlates with this.

So the call to shining, the call to proclaiming the Gospel among all nations, first involves dying on our own cross. And what does dying on our cross entail?

Surrendering our rights.

Seeing ourself as "dirty, little objects" as C.S. Lewis puts it.

Wasting our life at the feet of Jesus all for His glory.

There is a difference between Christianity without a cross and Christianity with a cross. At an event called "Secret Church" put on by an external ministry organization called IMPACT at my school a little over a year ago, the speaker spoke about just this.

He said that Christianity WITHOUT a cross is comfortable with role-based Christianity. Christians who identify with this type of Christianity do not do anything; they stay put and just go through the motions of church and spiritual disciplines with no real growth.

On the other hand, Christianity WITH a cross consumes, hurts and costs. Christians who identify with this type of Christianity are ablaze for the Lord; they deny their desires and only have their eyes fixed on Jesus. They are not concerned with what the world thinks; they are only concerned about what God thinks. Although they may face persecution, they press onwards towards Christ -- the goal.

What sounds better to you? For me, it's the latter. No, I'm not there yet and every day I must die to myself over and over again. Yes, there are days where I fail. There are days where my flesh wins and my spirit loses. But in the long run, I'm on the road to dying on my cross, because I know that the reward of following God is greater than any temporary reward won by my own strength.

And that's what Thailand is all about. Yes, it may look pretty on the outside, but really, this opportunity is going to be challenging. I'm going to be in a totally foreign location with nothing familiar -- not even the language. But I know this is where the Lord has called me to, so I will not disobey Him.

I would rather die on the battlefield serving my Lord by wearing the armor of light than die in the comfort of my own culture.

"The only call is the cross."

Donating Blood Wasn't About Me

I wasn't planning on donating blood. The clock struck 3:10pm signaling the end of class, and I burst out the door to walk back to my apartment. The homework piled high, and I knew I needed to start right away in order to accomplish it by the end of the night.

As I turned the corner of the hall, my friend Nathan, who was sitting at a Red Cross blood donation registration table, yelled, "Rebekah!"

"Oh, hey, Nathan."

"Do you want to donate blood today?"

My face probably turned pale and my eyes widened. "No..." I hesitated, and I light-heartedly chuckled in hopes of leaving the donation registration table. But he continued. Ugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid of needles."

Assuming that he would nod his head and let me get on with my day, I was stunned by his response. He went on to tell me why I shouldn't be afraid of a little prick in my skin, and that I would be saving lives by donating blood. I hated feeling guilt-tripped, but I kept listening.

I know, I know... went through my mind. I had heard it all before. But he kept pushing it. I swayed back-and-forth waiting for him for him to stop talking. He told me that by donating blood I would overcome one of my fears. A girl earlier in the day had done it, so why couldn't I? What was holding me back?

I had always WANTED to donate blood because I wanted to help save lives, but I was always afraid of the needle. I was afraid of becoming lightheaded and possibly passing out.

Then I realized something. My fears were pathetic. Was my comfort and safety more important than someone getting a blood transfusion that could potentially save his or her life? I couldn't let a little jab into my skin prevent me from giving life to someone else.

Others have suffered much worse for people's lives. Most prominently, Christ was whipped, speared and nailed to a cross to save billions of lives who would chose to follow Him. Isaiah 53:5 says, "But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed."

I know, I went from the pain of one little scar on your finger to the Son of God being tortured on the cross. A dramatic jump. But isn't it in the little things too, the little sufferings, that we relate to Christ and show our love for Him? It's not just the "big" sufferings.

By suffering for 6 minutes atop a black leather medical recliner I gave life to save someone's life (and really, I hardly felt any pain during this time). No, I wasn't stoned on the streets like Stephen. And no, I wasn't hung on a cross like Jesus. But it's not the location or severity of pain that matters. It's the raw act of giving of oneself, no matter what the discomfort or loss is, to give life to others that matters. That's what living selflessly looks like.

But I'm afraid to give of myself. That thought floats through my head on a daily basis, as I'm sure it does in your mind as well. Many times our fears can conquer our minds to tell us that we can't do this or that because it will risk our comfort. Yes, we may have the deepest desire to do something, but our fear overrules our desire.

I want to give blood, but I'm afraid that I'll experience too much physical pain.

I want to help the homeless, but I'm afraid that I won't know what to say around them and that I'll feel out of place.

I want to share the Gospel with my co-workers, but I'm afraid that I'll be mocked or challenged in my faith.

Our flesh hates discomfort, so it avoids it at all means possible. We live lives of comfort, waking up every morning to stay in our personal bubble we've created. We know our routine and we aren't willing to leave it, because something could go wrong that would threaten our well-being.

But Christ doesn't call us to live comfortably. He calls us to take risks and go outside of our boundaries into the unknown, trusting Him that He will pave the way through the darkness. He calls us to suffer on behalf of Him and our brothers and sisters so that He may be glorified.

2 Corinthians 4:8-12 says, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body."

Our suffering is but a mere reflection of what Jesus suffered on the cross. We suffer for Him so that the message of the cross would be spread. Who else is more worth suffering for?

And we rejoice in our sufferings!

Romans 5:3-5 says, "More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."

I came to this conclusion. Suffering for Christ is the mark of humility and embodies Christ-like love to the fullest extent. It denies the self and says, "I'm enduring this for something greater than myself -- for the glory of God." And it doesn't have to be profound. You don't have to sell all of your belongings and give the money to an organization that fights poverty. But you can suffer in the everyday moments to bring glory to God. You can give your lunch to the woman who stands on the street everyday during the lunch hour. You can spend your afternoon assisting your roommate with a project instead of using the time for yourself.

I know, my minuscule experience donating blood hardly attests to suffering for Christ. One jab into my arm was hardly anything in the scheme of suffering.

But it is a starting point. And I learned so much through it.

False Identity

Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever strong enough to tackle the things burning deep inside my soul.
I want to forgive...I want to fight social injustice...I want to breath the Word of God in my everyday life... The list goes on. I have a fiery, burning passion for the plans and desires the Lord has given me, but there's one thing that always ties me up: FEAR.
And it's not necessarily fear of the outcome. It's fear of the process.
I'm terrified that I'll become activated and start working towards a goal, and then fail halfway through. I hate it. In my weakness I crumble and beat myself up.
Let me share a Bible story with you. It's found in Numbers 13:26-33. This is the period in history after the Israelites have been released from Egypt, and the Lord calls on Moses to send out 13 spies into the land of Canaan. The men travel all over the land, and when they return, they report their findings to Moses. They tell him that the land is rich and fertile, but something is standing in their way: people who are stronger than they are. Also known as "giants".
All but two of the spies doubt that they will be able to take over the land. They fear that the Israelites will be overtaken again, and so they end up staying in their current location.
The two spies who go against the majority are Caleb and Joshua. Caleb's boldness in verse 30 astounds me:
“We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.”
No one else, besides Joshua, has faith in this action. This leads to the Israelites becoming consumed by fear, which then leads to their wandering in the wilderness for 40 years.
The problem with the Israelites was fear of the road ahead -- specifically the giants. They knew in their hearts the Lord had a land promised to them, but when they were faced with road barriers, they faded into the shadows of fear. Fear became a huge weight on their shoulders preventing them from stepping out in faith and trusting that the Lord would give them The Promised Land.
But even more so, the Israelites were too comfortable in their identity as slaves. It became their reality in Egypt, and being set free was something totally new and bizarre to the Israelites. They didn't know who they were without Pharoah's control over them.
Many times, we don't know who we are when we are given the freedom to chase after our dreams. The Lord thrusts an opportunity in our path pointing towards our dream, but we ignore it because we are too afraid of it. We're too used to the "comfortable" life we're living -- going to school, working a part-time job, hanging out with friends on the weekends, etc. When something new comes our way that captures our interest, we become empowered and excited, but when we discover the sacrifices we'll have to make in order to add it to our plate, a lot of the time we stumble and back away.
We have become enslaved by our comforts. I'm not saying that being in a comfortable position in life is bad, but we need to find a balance between living comfortably and taking risks for God's Kingdom and letting Him lead our lives. We need to put our FULL trust in the Lord, and believe that His way is the best way. Even though He may guide us through valleys, hills, and rocky roads, the end is a beautiful and fertile valley, springing with rich fruit the Lord has planted for us.
We also need to understand fully who we are in Christ. As humans, we tend to develop highly personal beliefs about ourselves that define us. Many times these are negative, and they scream into our ears everything that's messed up with us. Instead of listening to our own judgment of ourselves, or the enemy speaking lies in our heads, we need to OVERCOME these misinterpretations with truth from Scripture. Our identity needs to be rooted in who God calls us -- His children (John 1:12), His friend (John 15:15), justified (Romans 5:1), redeemed and forgiven (Colossians 1:13-14), anointed (2 Corinithians 1:21-22), citizen of heaven (Philippians 3:20)... etc.
God did not create us to be wallflowers or benchwarmers. He did not create us to play it safe and live life in the "safe" zone. He created us in His image to spread the good news of the Gospel by taking bold steps of faith that blow our circumstances out of proportion.