That Saturday, it all started out so normal. I slept in, like only a teenager can. I sauntered down the stairs from my attic
room to the kitchen, but nobody was there.
I looked in my sisters’ rooms. No one there either. Now, I was beginning to get a little
nervous. I went down the stairs to the
family room. But every seat was
empty.
I feared the worst.
I feared that I had been left behind.
Do you know what I’m talking about?
Did you ever read the left
behind novels by Tim LaHaye or saw the movie based on them? Maybe you grew up in a church where
everybody knew what those two terrifying words, left behind, meant. Or you could be one of those folks who have
no idea what those words mean at all.
But lots of Christians believe that before God heals
everything, seven years will come when everything gets really bad. And what is the first sign of these years of
tribulation? It’s the rapture, where
all the Christians get sort of beamed up to heaven, like in this picture.
Or as the novels put it, Christians just disappear, only leaving their clothes behind. That image by the way spawned all sorts of pics like this one.
Or as the novels put it, Christians just disappear, only leaving their clothes behind. That image by the way spawned all sorts of pics like this one.
And that Saturday morning, as I wandered through my
mysteriously empty house, that’s what I feared. Somehow, Jesus had not found me worthy of
rapture. I had been left behind to face
all the bad stuff that was about to happen.
What was it I wondered that caused me to miss the cut. What lustful thought, what unkind deed, what
disrespectful word had led to this? But
as full despair was about to hit, I was delivered. I heard the garage door opening, the voices
of my family filtering up the stairs. I
realized. Jesus hadn’t left me
behind. No, my family had, to go on an
errand.
Now you may never have felt “left behind”
anxiety. I certainly hope not. But have you ever worried about your
worthiness in some way? Have you ever
feared that you weren’t good enough, if not for God then for one of the
countless arbitrary standards that the world sets up for worthiness? You didn’t make enough. You weren’t thin enough or big enough. You didn’t have the right stuff or the right
relationships or the right job. The
list could go on and on. Life can
besiege you with doubts, doubts about yourself, doubts about your worthiness,
your value, your future. And the words
you’re about to hear can do the same.
Yet, in these same words lies the way to freedom. How can you know, no matter what the world
might tell you otherwise, that you are worthy?
How can you live in that sort of confident self-assurance? In these words, God shows you the way. Let’s listen and hear what God has to say.
The world around you, around us, will give you all
sorts of standards for worthiness. If
you look like this, then you’re worthy.
If you live here, you’re worthy.
If you earn this much money, then you’re worthy. Yet all these standards are lies. They only lead you into a very dark
place. But how do you stand against
them? How do you truly know your
worth? You live in the light, the light
that again and again John talks about here.
But when you look at the words we just read, they can
make you nervous, especially that first sentence. “Now by this we may be sure that we know
him, if we obey his commandments.”
If we obey his commandments? That’s the standard? Then how can anyone be sure that they know
God, that they are worthy? Who obeys all of God’s commandments?
But if you get caught by those questions, you are
missing what God in John’s words is trying to tell you. Do you know what command God delivers to
people more than any other? God tells
them. Do not fear. In fact, often when a messenger from God
appears, those are the first words the angel says. Fear not.
So, if these words instill fear, then you are missing
the point God is trying to make. When
it comes to God the knowing always comes first. It’s the knowing that leads to the
obeying. And if the God you think you know
instills in you fear, then you don’t really know God. And however powerful that fear, it will
never lead you to obedience.
As I was coming to worship last week, I listened to a story
on the radio about a Christian fundamentalist sect in England. This
group of folks had separated themselves from everyone outside their sect so
they could be pure from any ungodliness.
And God help you, if they
suspected as a member of the sect that you weren’t godly enough. The leaders came and interrogated you, and
then locked you up until you ‘fessed up to wherever you had fallen short. But then the whole thing fell apart. How?
The supreme leader, a man in his 70s, got caught in bed with the much
younger wife of one of the leaders. And 8,000 members of that sect left overnight. They discovered what the writer Phillip Yancey put so well. Legalism fails miserably at the one thing it
is supposed to do; encourage obedience.
Fear doesn’t ever lead you to obey, at least not for
any length of time. But when you come
to know God, really know God, it doesn’t fill you with fear. It fills you with love. And in that love, you obey.
When I was growing up, reading the King James Bible,
it always puzzled me. When somebody had
physical relations with their spouse, the strangest word appeared, like here in
Genesis
4. “Now Adam knew his wife, and she
conceived and bore Seth.” But the
translators of the King James had the word right. The verb to know is the word that the Hebrews
used for sexual intimacy, but only for intimacy in a marriage. For sex anywhere else, they used a different
word.
Why? The
Hebrews knew that when you come together with that level of commitment, that
degree of love, it brings you to a depth of knowledge that nothing else
can. What do I mean?
Years ago, I remember talking to a close friend, who,
over the years, had had many relationships.
But when she first came together physically with her husband, she
cried. And when he, concerned about
this reaction, asked why. She said. “I’m crying because for the first time in my
life, I know I am with someone who will not leave me, who will not walk away.” In her husband’s act of love, my friend
knew. She knew her worth. She knew her value in a way she had not
before.
And like the Hebrews, the Greeks also used know in
this same way. So, when John talks
about knowing God, he is talking about that level of loving intimacy, that
level of loving commitment. And when you know God loves you like that, it
doesn’t bring you fear. It frees you
from it. It frees you to love, to love like
never before. It takes you from
darkness into light.
Now, how can you know God like that? How can you know God with that level of
intimacy? It happens as you walk in this
light that God brings. And this light is
bigger than just loving others. Loving others just indicates that’s where you
are living, in the light. But walking in
the light is far more than that.
So what is this light that enables you to love
others? It’s the light of the gospel. It’s knowing God’s love for you in
Jesus. That’s the light. And the more you let that light shine into
your life, the more God frees you from the darkness. In that light, God will beam you up so to
speak. He will rapture you, but not in a
way that takes you from the world. He
will deliver you in a way that enables you to see the world, to see yourself like
never before. As the Bible puts it, he
will rescue you from darkness, and transfer you into the
kingdom of his beloved Son, into light.
How does this rapture
happen? It happens as you see everything
in your life through the reality of what God in Jesus did for you, as you see
it through the gospel. What
does that look like?
Well, let’s take the example, John gives here, of
loving your sister or brother. That’s a
nice idea, but how does it happen? It
happens when you see your brother or sister through the gospel.
Last week, I went away to spend some time with my
family. Each year, we all live in the
same house together on a beach in North Carolina. And for the most part, we had a great time
together as a family, but that doesn’t mean problems didn’t happen. For example, in the kitchen that we all
shared, we had a shelf in the refrigerator mainly for our son, Patrick’s
food. But on the last day, as we were
preparing to leave, I went up to that shared kitchen to get my son some
breakfast. But I found nothing
there. I asked a member of the family
what had happened, and she said that she had thrown it all away. She didn’t apologize for that. She just said the refrigerator needed to be
clear, and so she had done it, throwing out our breakfast stuff, the sandwiches
we had prepared for the road, everything. As I was rummaging through the garbage can to
retrieve a few things so my son could have breakfast, let me tell you. I was not a happy camper. And I carried my anger and resentment all
the way home. But then, last Sunday, I preached
on this passage. And I realized. No way could I hold my grudge. Why?
Because, if you are seeing anyone through the gospel,
you can’t. It’s impossible. What if God had held a grudge against you or
me? God certainly could have. Where would we be? But what did God do instead. God loved you. In Jesus, God loved you so much that though
he was powerful, he lost all power so you might be free. He who was invulnerable, became vulnerable
for you. He who lived in the glorious
light, entered into infinite darkness for you.
And why? He loved you. And when you realize that it puts all your grievances
in a whole different light. The
resentment fades, the anger, the hate. After all, you know you had done worse to God
than throw out some milk and fruit, but God didn’t turn away from you. No, he reached out to love you, to love you
more than you can ever even grasp.
And this same light works for everything in your
life. Let’s say it’s not someone else
you’re hating. It’s yourself. Maybe you hate yourself for some failing in
your life, some place you let others down or yourself. But whatever the failing, if you hate
yourself because of it, you’re not believing the gospel. You are saying to yourself. This failure shows that I am not worthy,
that I am a failure. But your actions
aren’t the proof of your worthiness.
Jesus is the proof of your worthiness.
And Jesus values you so much that he gave up everything for you. Now, once you realize that, that failure may
still hurt, but it will stop defining your life. Healing will start to happen. Why?
It’s because you are walking in the light. You are seeing the only reality that
determines your worth, God’s infinite, inexpressible love for you.
And the more you walk in the light of that love, of
that grace, the more the love and grace of that God will penetrate you, like a
beam of light shining into your darkness.
And in that light, you will know your sins are forgiven on account of
his name. You will know that in Jesus,
you have conquered the evil one. You
will know the Father, because you now grasp that you are his beloved
child. And in that knowledge, you will
grow strong, as God’s word lives in you.
And you will know that in that love, there is nothing that you cannot
overcome.
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