As I mentioned in the last devotional, there is a group of Christians who I honestly do avoid. One I addressed were the proud Pharisee-type Christians. The second group are the worldly Christians.
The phrase "worldly Christians" is of course an oxymoron. Romans 12:2 admonishes, "Do not be conformed to this world ..."
Clarification is necessary. Christians do not have to take a monk-like oath to remain completely separated from the world. The separation that comes with Christianity, holy separation, is internal. A popular phrase is to be "in but not of" the world. Abstaining from interaction with non-Christians is fruitless, and when I find myself doing this I seriously have to question my relationship with Christ. The joy I find in a relationship with Jesus Christ should make me want to share this with everyone, particularly those I love. If I do not share my experience with the world, then it stems from two reasons: either I do not find particular joy in this relationship ,or I do not love the non-Christian enough to want her to experience the same joy.
While in this world, though, we are expected to not conform to it. This is what the worldly Christian does. How can I describe her? She goes places that where temptation is rampant, her mind more concerned with saving face than saving her non-Christian friend. She allows herself "slips" of the tongue, so her non-Christian friends know that she is not uptight. She takes on popular ideologies, not thinking of their roots (and more importantly their intentions), and often tries to incorporate them into Christianity. She finds similarities between Christianity and all other religions so that she does not stand out in the world, but enjoys standing out in her uptight church. She frequently condemns pride and seldom lust - which, by the way, stems from pride - and spends most of her time using Christianity politically to make it a happy face that the world can easily accept.
I hate that she dilutes the word of God, twisting it for her own use. I hate that she goes to places where ethos is suffocated. I hate that she sings hymns on Sunday and songs about sex and money the other six days. I hate that she knows she's a hypocrite, and so avoids the topic of her meanderings by intellectually condemning the black-and-white viewpoint of Christianity. And, as is the case with the Pharisees, I hate her because I am her.
I want to get along with the world, especially my non-Christian friends. I love that they do not condemn me for my wrongful deeds, often laughing at my "slips" as mere child's play. I am comfortable here, on a common ground with all humanity, pushing for world peace but forgetting the Author of its truest form. Sometimes, when I think about how kind and loving some non-Christians are, especially those with whom I've recently come in contact, I want Christianity to be an easy thing to accept. I want to show them the verse about the "easy burden" [Matthew 11:30] and not the verse about "taking up the cross." [Matthew 16:24]. I want to reveal to them the Old Testament God who calls Abraham a friend [Isaiah 41:8], and not the One who was satisfied with the death of Achan and his children [Joshua 7]. I want the Bible to fit to our culture, to make sense to our era, our mantras. But it doesn't. It is not from this world and so the world cannot accept it without rejecting their own standards.
I fear, like with the Pharisees, that if I expose myself to these worldly Christians, I will become them. Yet I find myself becoming them as I expose myself to and get closer with non-Christians. Nevertheless, there is this task I have to minister to the lost, whether it is the lost non-Christian or the lost worldly Christian. How can I find strength to do so, when all I desire is appeasement?! How indeed.
The answer, I'm finding, is that I can't. I can't have a lost best friend. But we're all lost at some level, so what is my hope? I find strength only in Christ. He took on 12 best friends who were losers through and through. They were shabby men from the crudest backgrounds, and He made them missionaries who shook the globe. I'm convinced that if I let Him be my best friend, He can change me. His fellowship is the catalyst that will then change my fellowship with others.
I must admit these devotionals on fellowship are killing me. The emphasis that His is fellowship that we need to change and improve our fellowship with others is correct It's His fellowship, however, that is difficult. God is neither tangible (though we feel Him) nor audible (though we hear Him). Working on a relationship with Christ has all the difficulties and strains of a earthly relationship. Actually, it's backwards: earthly relationships have all the strains of the crucial relationship with Christ. But they're easy in comparison because people are on our level and thus predictable.
I mention this only to warn you, that when you seek after Christ's fellowship, that is indeed what you receive. It is a relationship, thus you must deny yourself to follow Him.[Matthew 16:24]. But He will train you. Then perfect abiding with others will come naturally, not only because people are easier to understand, but because you will finally truly understand them when you look through Christ's eyes. You may, and probably will, understand yourself better, too. Thus, fellowship with Christ is worth bearing the cross. It was to Him, and Jesus is no fool.
God bless,
Alisha
The phrase "worldly Christians" is of course an oxymoron. Romans 12:2 admonishes, "Do not be conformed to this world ..."
Clarification is necessary. Christians do not have to take a monk-like oath to remain completely separated from the world. The separation that comes with Christianity, holy separation, is internal. A popular phrase is to be "in but not of" the world. Abstaining from interaction with non-Christians is fruitless, and when I find myself doing this I seriously have to question my relationship with Christ. The joy I find in a relationship with Jesus Christ should make me want to share this with everyone, particularly those I love. If I do not share my experience with the world, then it stems from two reasons: either I do not find particular joy in this relationship ,or I do not love the non-Christian enough to want her to experience the same joy.
While in this world, though, we are expected to not conform to it. This is what the worldly Christian does. How can I describe her? She goes places that where temptation is rampant, her mind more concerned with saving face than saving her non-Christian friend. She allows herself "slips" of the tongue, so her non-Christian friends know that she is not uptight. She takes on popular ideologies, not thinking of their roots (and more importantly their intentions), and often tries to incorporate them into Christianity. She finds similarities between Christianity and all other religions so that she does not stand out in the world, but enjoys standing out in her uptight church. She frequently condemns pride and seldom lust - which, by the way, stems from pride - and spends most of her time using Christianity politically to make it a happy face that the world can easily accept.
I hate that she dilutes the word of God, twisting it for her own use. I hate that she goes to places where ethos is suffocated. I hate that she sings hymns on Sunday and songs about sex and money the other six days. I hate that she knows she's a hypocrite, and so avoids the topic of her meanderings by intellectually condemning the black-and-white viewpoint of Christianity. And, as is the case with the Pharisees, I hate her because I am her.
I want to get along with the world, especially my non-Christian friends. I love that they do not condemn me for my wrongful deeds, often laughing at my "slips" as mere child's play. I am comfortable here, on a common ground with all humanity, pushing for world peace but forgetting the Author of its truest form. Sometimes, when I think about how kind and loving some non-Christians are, especially those with whom I've recently come in contact, I want Christianity to be an easy thing to accept. I want to show them the verse about the "easy burden" [Matthew 11:30] and not the verse about "taking up the cross." [Matthew 16:24]. I want to reveal to them the Old Testament God who calls Abraham a friend [Isaiah 41:8], and not the One who was satisfied with the death of Achan and his children [Joshua 7]. I want the Bible to fit to our culture, to make sense to our era, our mantras. But it doesn't. It is not from this world and so the world cannot accept it without rejecting their own standards.
I fear, like with the Pharisees, that if I expose myself to these worldly Christians, I will become them. Yet I find myself becoming them as I expose myself to and get closer with non-Christians. Nevertheless, there is this task I have to minister to the lost, whether it is the lost non-Christian or the lost worldly Christian. How can I find strength to do so, when all I desire is appeasement?! How indeed.
The answer, I'm finding, is that I can't. I can't have a lost best friend. But we're all lost at some level, so what is my hope? I find strength only in Christ. He took on 12 best friends who were losers through and through. They were shabby men from the crudest backgrounds, and He made them missionaries who shook the globe. I'm convinced that if I let Him be my best friend, He can change me. His fellowship is the catalyst that will then change my fellowship with others.
I must admit these devotionals on fellowship are killing me. The emphasis that His is fellowship that we need to change and improve our fellowship with others is correct It's His fellowship, however, that is difficult. God is neither tangible (though we feel Him) nor audible (though we hear Him). Working on a relationship with Christ has all the difficulties and strains of a earthly relationship. Actually, it's backwards: earthly relationships have all the strains of the crucial relationship with Christ. But they're easy in comparison because people are on our level and thus predictable.
I mention this only to warn you, that when you seek after Christ's fellowship, that is indeed what you receive. It is a relationship, thus you must deny yourself to follow Him.[Matthew 16:24]. But He will train you. Then perfect abiding with others will come naturally, not only because people are easier to understand, but because you will finally truly understand them when you look through Christ's eyes. You may, and probably will, understand yourself better, too. Thus, fellowship with Christ is worth bearing the cross. It was to Him, and Jesus is no fool.
God bless,
Alisha
