Heavy Load

Heavy Load

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:29, NIV)

When I was fourteen years old, I went on an oversees trip to Hungary.  Since we were first stopping in Oklahoma for training, I needed two bags: a regular one for the OK camp and a backpack for the oversees travel.  The backpack needed to be sleek, innovative, carry all I needed for the oversees part, and, above all, be very light.  I’d have to carry it through the airport and up & down the streets of Hungary.

My mom invested in what in 1998 to a non-hiking family was a very expensive backpack.  I think we paid $89.  And this was not money we had floating around in the sky.  I knew what a gift it was for my mom to buy it.

It was a beauty.  Lithe, streamlined, and heavy-duty.  Exactly what my mom had in mind.  It was designed to be no burden.

There was one problem, though.

My hoarding.

When I got to Oklahoma, things fell apart at the seams.  I experienced a tremendous amount of anxiety about leaving the country, and my backpack became my security blanket.  Rather than leaving the intended amount behind at the camp and packing only what I needed, I tried to stuff as much as I could in my backpack.  I don’t remember all that I crammed inside, but I do remember knowing the things inside were going to be ruined by the pressure.   And I was right.  Cookies I’d wanted to save were crumbled, and shampoo or something like it burst on the airplane flight.

I remember the time I started realizing how alone I was.  At the airport, the guys would help carry the girls’ backpacks voluntarily, but few wanted to carry mine even when I pleaded.  I remember at one point the thin, short, sweet leader of my group carrying my backpack herself to help me out.

I was embarrassed none of the boys really wanted to help me.  But this made me want to hoard my things even more.  I needed this stuff.  It might help me get through what was looking like a very long trip.  So throughout much of the trip, I kept even things I knew I was never going to use.

I stored a bent, melted box of chocolates simply because my mom had bought it for me and I didn’t want to leave it behind.  I didn’t want to leave anything behind.  Even trash.  Somehow trash became sentimental for me, and I didn’t want to part with it. And even if the stuff didn’t help me, how could I leave it behind now?  If I threw things away, I’d have to take them out of my backpack first.  And the other teens would think I was weird for keeping stuff like a crumpled box of ruined chocolates in my bag.  They might even make fun of me.

The more time went by, the heavier my load felt.  By the time we were walking down the streets of Hungary, I was feeling a numb twinge in my back I’d never felt before.  This started a back pain that did not resolve itself just because we arrived back home.  I’d done too much damage, lifting something that was far too heavy for me to try to carry.

The “unnecessariness” of my heavy load, the shame I experienced from carrying trash on my back, the difficulty finding any of the handsome boys to carry my backpack for me, and the deep damage of the experience to my back and, far worse, to my feelings . . reminds me of what it’s like to carry a heavy spiritual load around in this life.

The backpack God gives us to carry around our spiritual stuff is incredible: ergonomic, state-of-the-arc, and intricately designed for every good thing we might want to carry.  But sin—our choice to turn away from God—ruined the way we look at our backpack.  Rather than storing precious memories and good works to show our Father, we often pack away grudges, failures, disappointments, and our most horrible mistakes.  The problem is, we were never meant to carry such weighty, bulky things.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:29, NIV)

Jesus makes an incredible claim, and it’s not the world’s sort of claim of trading in our old backpack for a larger model to carry more sin.   God’s claim is that we can dump the wadded-up trash, ruined possessions, mold, and dirt in our backpack directly on Him.  (For the origin of this analogy, please see Max Lucado’s beautiful book Next Door Savior or the booklet He Did This Just For You.)

Jesus suffered for your sin and my sin personally at the cross.

I could hardly convince the boys at the airport to carry my backpack, even with cajoling and pleading and pathetic flirting.  But with God, we don’t have to worry about begging Him to forgive us—He is eager and waiting to do so!  The Message of the Cross is God running up to us, arms outstretched, ready to take our worst burdens on Himself so we can be free.  All we have to do is hand our heavy load over.

Jesus, I give you my heavy load.  The burden is grave.  Please empty my bag of its disgusting sin and fill it with Your featherweight grace.  I bow down to You, Jesus, the only One able to carry my load.

Thank you for wanting to.

In Jesus Name, Amen.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:29, NIV)

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The future with Christ

Anyone who belongs to Him finds no condemnation in their future.

So those who are believers in Christ Jesus can no longer be condemned. (Romans 8:1, GW)

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17, NIV)

Published in: on May 28, 2013 at 10:53 am  Leave a Comment  
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Chutes & Ladders

Chutes & Ladders Creative CommonsI don’t know how many times I played Chutes & Ladders as a kid.  I do remember that you always want to rescue the cat.

You go up really high if you rescue the cat. (+56)

The worst was climbing up on the cabinet to eat the cookies.

You go down really low if you try to reach the cookies.  (-63)

Although I always wanted to know more about right and wrong than the game offered, Chutes & Ladders was intrinsically satisfying to me as a child.  For one thing, the consequences were always logical.  For another, they were always predictable.  If you made the same good choices every game, you’d win for sure: plant a garden, bake a cake, mow the lawn, eat your breakfast, care for your injured pet, sweep the floor, carry mom’s purse, win best-in-show at a pet contest, and, of course, climb up the tree to help the cat.

On the other hand, if you made the same lousy choices every game, you’d lose for sure: read comics at school, go ice skating in the no-zone, eat a whole box of chocolates, walk in a puddle without your galoshes, show off on a bike, bust a window, draw on a wall, pull a cats tail or (never should you!) climb up on the cabinet to eat cookies.

You would think I might have generalized from this game ways to make good and bad choices.  But I was more focused on the concrete choices in the game.  I didn’t want to make abstractions.  I didn’t want it to become more complicated.  I wanted to just do those 9 ladder choices and avoid the 9 slide choices, or have more ladders and slides, even, but no generalizations.  I could play the game perfectly if I could just memorize the ladders and slides.  And I wanted my life to be perfect, just like that.

But life isn’t so easy.  I didn’t even have a cat to carry down from a tree, or a tree in my yard that had low enough branches I could climb anyway.  And I never even get to mow the lawn with a push mower because my dad was afraid I’d run over my foot.

I can be very detail-focused, very check-listy, very Chutes & Ladders happy, and actually there is someone in the Bible who I think would have been right down my alley personality-wise.  He never got to play Chutes & Ladders as a kid, but I bet he would have loved it.

We don’t know a lot about him but we do know a few things:

  • He was humble.  (He knelt before Jesus.)
  • He was uncertain or afraid or both.  (He wanted to know what he needed to do to get eternal life.)
  • He was rich.
  • He was young.

The account is told in Matthew (19:16-26), Mark (10:17-27), and Luke (18:18-23).

Just then someone came up and asked Him, “Teacher, what good must I do to have eternal life?”

“Why do you ask Me about what is good?” He said to him. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter into life, keep the commandments.”

“Which ones?” he asked Him. Jesus answered:

Do not murder;
do not commit adultery;
do not steal;
do not bear false witness;
honor your father and your mother;
and love your neighbor as yourself.

“I have kept all these,” the young man told Him. “What do I still lack?”

“If you want to be perfect,” Jesus said to him, “go, sell your belongings and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.”

When the young man heard that command, he went away grieving, because he had many possessions. (Matthew 19:16-22, HCSB)

Though I think this young man would have liked the game of Chutes & Ladders as a kid, it wouldn’t have prepared him for what Jesus was going to teach him that day.

Just then someone came up and asked Him, “Teacher, what good must I do to have eternal life?”

The young man had an important question he wanted to ask Jesus.  He seems to respect Jesus and trust Him.  Unlike some questions Jesus was asked, this question does not seem meant to try to trick Him or cause Him trouble.  I think the young man really wanted to know the answer.

“Why do you ask Me about what is good?” He said to him. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter into life, keep the commandments.”

The young man was intent on finding out about eternal life.  He doesn’t stop to think, as Ravi Zacharias says, about the fact that if Jesus is good, He is the One who is good.

“Which ones?” he asked Him. Jesus answered:

Do not murder;
do not commit adultery;
do not steal;
do not bear false witness;
honor your father and your mother;
and love your neighbor as yourself.

“I have kept all these,” the young man told Him. “What do I still lack?”

The young man revealed he was not perfect with his question, “Which ones?”  He was afraid that Jesus might answer with a command that he hadn’t kept.  But this young man felt confidence about the commands Jesus did list.  The young man felt he was climbing the ladder.  His confidence boosted.

But . . he still felt he had not climbed the highest rung.

He did not say, “Oh, thank you, Jesus!” and go running off.  Maybe he sensed that there was still something he was missing.  Maybe he didn’t feel that he had reached eternal life.  Maybe he wanted to make sure he’d understood Jesus correctly that he would be ushered into Heaven when he died.

“If you want to be perfect,” Jesus said to him, “go, sell your belongings and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.”

When the young man heard that command, he went away grieving, because he had many possessions.

It was something that was never on his Chutes & Ladders board.

He’d felt he’d honored his father and mother and loved his neighbor . . but he’d never expected to hear his wealth was standing in the way of his eternal life.  He thought he knew all the ladders there were to climb, and all the slides to avoid.  He’d never realized hoarding his wealth was a sin, or that giving it away could be a command from God.

It was what he held dearest; it was what he did not see how he could let go.  His checklist crumpled, he slid all the way down the ladder to start and then he left.

But . . the account does not end there.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “I assure you: It will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven! Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”

When the disciples heard this, they were utterly astonished and asked, “Then who can be saved?”

But Jesus looked at them and said, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:23-26, HCSB)

Jesus ends on a note of hope.

Yes, the young man has slid back to start–but that is exactly where he needs to be to find God’s grace.  He needs to realize that it isn’t his striving to climb up Heaven’s ladder that will get him eternal life.  It’s Jesus.  Jesus is the Good One.  No one else is good but God.  This young man didn’t realize (but Jesus did) that Jesus would give His life so that the slide our sin always causes and the ladder of self-righteousness we can never climb would be eradicated.  Jesus instead gave us an elevator.  An elevator paid for by His good, the good we do not have within us.

We don’t know what happened to this young man.  I think he came back.  What I know is, God worked the impossible possible when He forgave us all our debt through Jesus on the cross.  Without Jesus, we would all be on a slide right into Hell.  But because of Jesus, we can be on the rise to Heaven–not by our own climbing, but by the gift of Jesus Christ.

If this young man did come back, what he discovered was that it wasn’t giving the wealth that made him right with God or not right with God.  It was a test of the heart.  And his heart couldn’t stand up to the test.  In fact, none of our hearts can.  That’s why we have to rely on the good heart of Jesus Christ–the One who is good.

If that young man did come back, and if he gave all his wealth away, do you know how he did it?  Not by his heart, but by the love of Jesus Christ, shared with all who will believe in Him.  Through Jesus, we can do what is impossible for us.  Through Jesus, our hearts can withstand the test.  We can be brave for Jesus, through Jesus.

So where are you in the game of Chutes & Ladders?  Are you like the young man, and hope you’re way up high because of good choices you feel like you’ve made in your life?  Or instead do you feel like you’ve been on a slide for most of your life?  Or are you hoping you’re a bit further along in the game than your friends and neighbors?  When we live our lives like we’re playing Chutes & Ladders, only a long, devastating slide awaits us, because none of us can actually do any good–only One can do that.

Jesus has given His life so that we don’t have to play Chutes & Ladders.  He knows we’ll always lose in the end.  He knows that only His goodness can make a ladder to Heaven.  And because we cannot be good like He is, He has built us an elevator by His love on the cross for us.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:14, WEB)

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Photograph by Ben Husmann, profile on http://www.flickr.com/people/benhusmann/

Photographs under Creative Commons License.

Thoughts on the Christian’s wanderings

From Ben’s penning,

So much of our lives are wasted running back to our old father, Satan, like a dog returning to its vomit (as Proverbs says).  There is no good there, and yet how do we not see that in the moment?

As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his foolishness. (Proverbs 26:11, NLT)

The solution to guilt

. . is not doubting the seriousness of sin, but rather realizing the seriousness of Christ’s work on the cross–and receiving it.

Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live.

In Christ Alone  (written by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend)

Jesus said, “It is finished.” (John 19:30b, NIV)

Published in: on January 3, 2013 at 7:03 pm  Leave a Comment  
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