01-26-14 All Things In Christ

I would like to return today

to what I consider to be

some unfinished business from last week.

We spent our time last week

studying a well known statement

made by the Apostle Paul

in Philippians 4:13.

I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

This statement is made

in the context of Paul’s final expression

of gratitude and appreciation

to the Philippians

for the supplies they sent him

while he was under house-arrest in Rome,

waiting for his trial before Caesar

on charges of treason against the Roman Government.

We saw last week

that Paul’s statement “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me...”

was made by Paul

as an affirmation that his contentment in life

comes from the presence of Christ with Him

no matter what his outward circumstances may be.

In fact, as I was looking over that statement again this past week

I discovered something

I hadn’t seen before.

In the English text

we translate that verse:

Phil. 4:13 I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

But the literal translation of the verse is this:

Phil. 4:13 I can do all things IN Him who strengthens me.

Sometimes it bothers me

when the translators tamper with the text

for the sake of what they consider to be clarity or readability.

It bothers me here.

You see,

Paul was not simply saying

that Christ would give him the strength he needed

for the ordeal he was going through.

Paul was saying that Christ Himself WAS the strength.

Paul’s sense of security

and contentment

came from being immersed in the presence of Christ.

It wasn’t just what Christ was giving Him,

it was Christ Himself

that became his contentment.

We bump up against this distinction frequently in the religious world -

the distinction between

what Christ gives us

and the presence of Christ Himself.

I frequently find myself frustrated

with finding ways of putting into words

the difference between simply possessing the doctrinal knowledge

that Christ is with us,

and actually drawing strength

from the presence of Christ Himself.

Most people in our world

believe that Christianity is a religious system,

a system founded in the teachings of Christ,

and based upon the acceptance of His life and death and resurrection.

But at its core it is seen as a belief system

that presents a set of doctrinal

and ethical principles

that must be accepted in order to qualify a person as a Christian.

From the world’s perspective,

if a person accepts the basic doctrinal beliefs of Christianity,

and if they seek to follow the moral and ethical standards presented by Christianity,

then they would be viewed as a “Christian”.

I know I can do nothing,

or very little

to change the world’s perception of Christianity.

But the truth is

it’s just not that way.

I don’t often do this,

but I’m going to take a few minutes this morning

to read to you

from that book on the back table, The Fisherman,

with the hope that it may help me better express something

I very much want to communicate.

Just so that you understand what’s going on with this,

the book is written in the first person,

as if the Apostle Peter himself was writing,

sharing with his readers

his own personal thoughts

and responses

and reactions to his life with Jesus when the Lord was here.

This particular passage

presents Peter’s response

to his first extended trip with Jesus

as he traveled with the Master

throughout Israel.

And Peter says...

Though I didn’t realize it at the time, Jesus used our early travels together to show us by example how we were to present him to the world in the years ahead. From the first moment I met Jesus, I knew he was unlike any other leader I had ever met before. You see, Jesus never attempted to win people to himself. Unlike all the other leaders I’d known, Jesus never attempted to create a following.

His approach to Israel was simple: he stepped into the center of our world. Through his words and his actions he enabled everyone to see exactly who he was and what he was like. Then he allowed us to decide for ourselves what we would do about it.

His use of his healing abilities is a good example. During the time of his public ministry, Jesus healed thousands of people. But not once did he use his healing powers as a hook with which to hold another human being. Never did he say, “If you follow me, I will heal you,” or “Because I have healed you, I now expect you to follow me.” He didn’t “buy” people with his power. He didn’t manipulate people with his persuasive abilities. He just stepped into their lives, allowed them to see him as he was, and then gave them the freedom to decide what they would do with what they had seen.

Most people were well pleased to take whatever they could get from the Master and then walk away. If they wanted healing, they would take healing. If they wanted entertainment, they would join the crowd, watch the show, and listen to the Master teach. Then, when the party was over, they walked away unchanged. My brother Matthew liked to call those people “the multitudes.” It was a good name for them—an unthinking mass of humanity taking what came without charge, closing their eyes to the reality of what they were seeing and hearing.

Then there were some who hated Jesus from the moment he entered town because he threatened their power and control in the community. They challenged him whenever they could, they raised questions about the source of his power, they attacked and undermined his work whenever they had the chance, and they rejoiced when he walked out of town.

And finally, there were those of us who . . . well, those who entered into his love. There was only one requirement for this—we had to want him more than we wanted anything else. There were thousands and thousands who wanted what he could give. There were not many who wanted him. But something amazing took place in our lives when we reached that point. I can describe it only by saying he gave us himself. He allowed us to see his heart, and in so doing he created between himself and each of us a depth of intimacy unlike anything else we’d ever known before. He ceased to be just the Prophet or the Healer or the Great Teacher and became our friend. He listened to us. He laughed with us. He lived with us. He opened his heart and his mind to us, and what we saw there changed everything forever because what we saw there was ourselves. We were in his heart, in his mind. Having seen that, life could never be the same again. Most of those we encountered, however, were never able to see his heart because they were never willing to give him theirs.

During the years since his departure, I have tried hard to duplicate the pattern Jesus modeled for us when he was here. It is not my responsibility to attempt to sell Jesus to the world or rally the masses to follow his teachings. It is my responsibility to present him as simply and accurately as possible and let people decide for themselves what they will do with the Master. The few who submit to him on his terms will know his heart and his love as I have known it. The rest will walk away. Or worse, they will attempt to use him for their own ends.

Already our Christian world is filled with those who are busy building their little empires in the name of Jesus. Brother Paul made a comment in one of the letters he wrote to the Christians in Corinth. He said, “We are not like many, peddling the word of God.” And there are many. I can hear them now: “Who wants salvation? Who wants healing? Who wants peace? Step right up! Jesus can give you what you want.” The focus, of course, is always on what we want, not on what he wants. And the result is an endless river of religious sewage, flowing out of the septic system of our own selfish pride.

My goal in that passage

was to present what I believe to be

the great destructive lie

about true Christianity.

For Peter and the other disciples in the first century

true Christianity

was simply entrance into a personal friendship with Christ,

a friendship which involved

submission to

and trust in the Person of Christ.

The key ingredient, though,

was not simply that they liked and believed what Jesus taught,

it was that they chose to live in a trust friendship with Christ Himself.

The teachings of Jesus

were not the deciding factor.

The truth is, most of the time

the disciples totally misunderstood

what Jesus was teaching,

and even when they did understand

they often refused to submit to it.

But it wasn’t the teachings

that made them Christian -

it was the friendship with Christ Himself.

And it is exactly the same way today.

The great dividing line

between “Christian” and “non-Christian”

is not doctrine.

It is the Person of Jesus Christ Himself.

I think my own entrance into Christ

has helped me a great deal with this whole thing.

You see,

I was a “Christian” by the world’s standards

long before I ever met Christ.

I was raised in a home

in which church involvement

and faithful “Christian” living

were high priorities.

I accepted the basic doctrines

and moral teachings of Christianity

all the way through my childhood.

I was absolutely “Christian”

by both my own definition of the term

and by the universally accepted definition of the world in which we live.

But it was not until Christ Himself

confronted me with Himself during my sophomore year in college

that I wrestled with the central issue of true Christianity.

He wanted my life.

He didn’t want my pledge of allegiance

to the Christian doctrinal system,

or my assurance that I would

always live by the Christian code

of ethics and morals.

He just wanted me.

He didn’t care if I had been a good boy

or a bad boy by society’s standards,

He didn’t care what I accepted

or didn’t accept from His teachings

and the teachings of Scripture.

All He wanted to know

is whether or not I was willing

to submit to Him as my Lord on His terms.

Did I want HIM in my life?

And when I finally agreed

and accepted His offer of Himself to me,

for the first time in my life

I entered into His love.

My point in this whole thing is simply this:

it is not our doctrinal belief system

that makes us a Christian,

it is the presence of Christ in our lives.

The truth is,

I have had far more trouble

in my relationship with the teachings of Christ since becoming a Christian

than I ever did before.

You see, before I came to Christ,

or He came to me,

the doctrine didn’t matter all that much.

It was simply a system of ideas

and beliefs.

I could bat it around

and philosophize about it

like any other set of ideas

and it affected me very little.

But once the Person and Presence of Christ

became the greatest reality of life,

it all became so real,

so personal.

There have been times as a Christian

when I have said to myself

and to my Lord,

“There is no way what You have said here will work!

There is no way my needs

can be met within the boundaries You’re giving me!”

And more often than not

His response to my frustrations

seems to be one that says,

“That’s OK, Larry. I know right now

you don’t understand what I’ve said

and you certainly don’t understand why I’ve said it.

But you trust Me.

And you and I are in this together.

I will never leave you,

and I will never forsake you.

And in time you will understand.”

I’ve brought this whole thing up

because I wanted to try one more time

to explain what Paul is saying

when he says,

Phil. 4:13 I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.

He could live in humble means,

or in plenty.

He could suffer need,

or he could have an abundance.

He could go hungry,

not because he accepted

or even always understood what Christ was doing or why,

but rather because he went through all those things

in the presence of Christ.

During my first full year in Trinidad in 1970

I met a boy we called Little Barry.

He was about ten or eleven years old,

and he was deaf.

He’d been deaf ever since his older brother

had kicked him down a flight of stairs

when he was about two years old.

Little Barry and I got to be great friends.

We worked out our own little system of sign language,

and most afternoons

for most of that year

Little Barry would just hang out at my house.

My transportation for that year

was a little 90cc Kawasaki motorcycle

and one of Little Barry’s most favorite things in life

was to be able to go for a ride with me on that motorcycle.

Then came a time when

for several days Little Barry didn’t come to my house for a visit.

I finally asked one of the other kids in the neighborhood where he was.

He told me Little Barry had a terrible tooth ache

and was just laying at home hurting.

I asked him to go get Little Barry and bring him to me.

When Little Barry arrived

it was obvious he was in pain.

I asked him to open his mouth

and even I could see

the painful decay in one of his back molars.

I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to do

because he couldn’t hear me,

but I made our special sign

asking him if he wanted to go on a motorcycle ride with me.

He nodded yes,

and he and I got on the bike

and took off.

But rather than just riding around the neighborhood,

this time we went into the heart of Port-Of-Spain, the capitol city.

We stopped in front of a building

Little Barry had never seen.

When we got off the bike

and started walking into the building

he looked at me

and with his eyes he said as clear as could be,

“Larry, what are we doing here?”

I couldn’t tell him.

I just put my hand on his shoulder

and tried my best to ask him to trust me.

And he did.

We walked into the Dentist’s office,

waited until we were called,

and then we walked together into the examination room.

Little Barry had never been to a dentist before.

He had no idea what was going to happen.

But he trusted me,

and because he trusted me

he followed my instructions.

Standing next to Little Barry that day

holding his hand while the dentist

pulled that rotted tooth,

unable to explain to him

what was happening,

or why,

was the hardest experience for me of that entire year.

But it has helped me to understand a little better

what Paul is saying in Phil. 4:13

when he says:

I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.

Little Barry allowed me to take him through pain

not because I could explain to him

what was happening or why,

but simply because he trusted me,

and because he knew I loved him,

and because I was there with him.

And sometimes that’s the way it is

in our relationship with our Lord.

He can’t explain to us what’s going to happen,

or why,

but because He loves us,

and because He goes through the pain with us,

we, too, can do all things in Him who strengthens us.