peace . love . joy

A couple of weeks ago, I had my Bible study group over in my house and we were discussing the issue of Christian conduct. Back and forth the ideas and comments and views came about how we should go about deciphering and living out the verses on "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial" (1 Cor 10:23), on the problem of "what-if"s in stumbling other believers with our particular behaviors expounded with accompanying concrete examples of grey area subjects like drinking alcohol, tattooing, and even dancing (from hip-hop to tango), for it is not good to cause others to sin (Mark 9:42).

If we draw out the tangent that we should not live lives that are full of actions that stumble others, if we do not know who is watching us when we do what we do, and we do not know if what we do is stumbling whoever is watching, then should we renounce our present lives and live ascetic lives in convents and monasteries as nuns and monks?

See, our problem lies not with clear black and whites of right and wrong as spelt out in God's Word; rather, we take issue with issues coloured in grey hues. Amoral, or non-moral if you prefer, behaviours and actions which are in and of themselves neither right nor wrong. These do not involve sin, and therefore morality. There are many that may be not wrong, but also not advisable, as there are many that are not wrong for some, but also not right for others.

The question is:
What do we do when we face such circumstances where there are such disputes?
How do we negotiate such knowledge that one thing may seem okay for us, but simultaneously utterly incorrect for others?

While I do not dare to offer a clear and concise answer, I believe Romans 14 may help us manoeuvre through these grey waters.

In the first section of the chapter, Paul differentiates between the "stronger" and the "weaker" Christian ("weaker" not in Faith; but rather as C. E. B. Cranfield puts it, "in assurance that one's faith permits one to do certain things"). He chooses food as the amoral issue, for it is neither wrong nor right to abstain as it is to not abstain.

The "stronger" who eats anything and everything he wishes must not look down on the "weaker" who abstains from certain foods, just as the "weaker" is not to judge nor condemn the "stronger".

Neither should judge himself more acceptable or pleasing to God than the other on basis of his amoral actions alone.

And here's the reason why:
It is not our place to pass judgement on another, just as it is not a servant's place to condemn another servant; each servant is answerable to his master.

The "weaker" must not judge the "stronger" because God in His grace has made it possible for the "stronger" to eat as he wishes; the servant is allowed to stand before his Master; his liberty is approved by the Sovereign.

Paul moves on to talk about an instance when the "weaker" does something the "stronger" does not (as opposed to before when the "stronger" does something the "weaker" does not). And again as before, Paul pays no attention to the reason why that particular action is committed. Such reasoning to him is immaterial because such personal convictions are simply that: personal, between one man and God.

And it is because:
What matters is that each lives to please the LORD in his own capacity by his own convictions.
What matters is that each confesses and submits to Jesus the Christ, to God the Father, and to the Holy Spirit's engineering.
We do not live to ourselves, neither do we die to ourselves. Each will be subjected to the LORD's judgement on Judgement Day; each will be held accountable for his own actions; we do not have to answer for anyone else but ourselves.

So really, the question is how intimate are we with the LORD?
Do our lives reflect that intimacy, that relationship?

Verses 1 through 12 were perhaps written with the "weaker" brother in particular in mind. But verses 13 through 23 were written with the other "stronger" believer taking centre stage.

Is the "stronger" Christian's behavior a stumbling block to the "weaker"?

In Greek, "stumbling block" has two main translations:
πρόσκομμα (proskomma) which means an object that a foot may be stubbed against.
or σκάνδαλον (skandalon) which is the English "snare".

Are the actions of the "stronger" retarding the "weaker"'s progress to Christ-likeness, hindering his path or even permanently damaging the "weaker"'s conscience and sensitivities?
Are they temptations to sin to the "weaker" brother?

"Stronger", take heed especially! "For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died." (v. 15)
Which is more important:
Your liberty to act and behave in amoral situations as you do because you understand what Christ has done for you and are fully assured in faith?
Or the safe-keeping and encouraging of the soul of a fellow brother?

See, the big picture is not that we have a right as "stronger" Christians, ransomed and redeemed by God, to live in utter liberty. No, it has nothing to do with how we act with respect to amoral issues. What we have to keep in mind, always in plain sight is the Kingdom of God which "is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." (v. 17)

Rather than letting ourselves at each other's throats and tearing down the walls of each other's faith in conviction (not so much Faith in Christian teaching), seek to live in peace with one another: build up and encourage each other in our walks with our wonderful merciful Savior.

For the "stronger", it may spell foregoing some amoral behaviors and actions.
For the "weaker", it may mean refraining from conferring condemning judement on the practices of the "stronger" brother.

A few months ago, I was struggling with this very question Jesus asked Simon Peter, son of Jonas: "Lovest thou me?"

My instinctive reaction is to boldly and profusely declare a solid affirmation to the inquiry, to profess my feelings of undying love to my God, to want to break out in song and dance, to want to put my hand to the piano, to the canvas, to the paper and worship Him as best I know how and can. Wouldn't you?

That question, "Lovest thou me?", however, remained in my subconscious for quite a while, popping in every now and then to repeatedly articulate itself and remind me of its presence. The more that happened, the more I grew uncomfortable.

Do I really love God?
If I do, do my actions, every single one of them from my subconscious unvoluntary breathing down to my conscious and voluntary behavior, betray my love for Him?
If I sin, if that sin is not a new one but an old fiend, does it mean I love God any less?
Does it mean my love is an illusion, that I'm only kidding myself, that I don't really love Him?

And that's when I realised the starkness of Jesus' pointed question: "Lovest thou me?"

I may be telling the truth as best I knew it then, saying again and again that I love the Lord, saying it just as any one of us would to a good person whom we know, to a person whom we are fond of. The way we say "I love you, mummy" or "I love my boyfriend" is most likely precisely the manner in which Peter had fool-hardily sworn before, saying "though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away... Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!" (Matthew 26:30-35) But this is merely φιλέω (phileō): to be a friend to; to be fond of; to have affection for [something or someone].

And, as Oswald Chambers noted, though such emotion may be powerful, indeed so much that it may penetrate into our "natural selves", it is not where Jesus intends for us to remain when the object of our feelings is Him.

You see, True Love never simply announces itself:
"Also I say unto you, Whosoever shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man also confess before the angels of God" (Luke 12:8)
To "confess" is to ὁμολογέω (homologeō). This Greek word is the compound of two others, ὁμοῦ (homou) which means together, and λόγος (logos) which means to say or communicate; to be the doctrine of; to shew. "Shew" is a verb, an action word meaning to prove; demonstrate; show; establish the validity of something, as by an example, explanation or experiment.

This love of ours must evolve from and yet retain innocent and child-like elements of phileō, to include ἀγαπάω (agapaō), to love in a social and moral sense. Where phileō is the love that chiefly resides in the heart, agapaō is the love that chiefly resides in the head.

This is where the Lord intends for us to pursue, the sort of love that He first showed us is the love that He demands in return.

To confess, to homologeō our love for Him requires more than songs, than paintings, than dance, than teaching, than smiling, than greeting, than studying... It is more than mere displays of phileō; it begs homologeō, it begs understanding, comprehension, embodiment.

This sort of love, the one that Jesus asks Peter the first two times He articulates His question, the agapaō kind, is the kind that penetrates not just until our "natural selves", but into the deep recesses of our spirits.

This brand of love can only be attained, be discovered when we truly understand Jesus' "Lovest thou me?".

It is a question full of hope... And full of pain.

See, with that question, every deception, every little thing uttered willy-nilly, every action, every step, every breath, every heart is exposed and weighed. Whoever said the Word of God never hurts God's people, never hurts Christians? Afterall, "the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12). The Bible never did say that it is a sword that only cuts through unbelievers, that cuts through evil alone; so what makes us think that it doesn't cut through us, Christians, too, for are we not also sinners?

Every time we sin, it gets easier to sin again because we slip into deception and lies and foolishness, because our senses are dulled and muted, the hurt and struggle and pain and guilt become less and less until we forget they were even there to begin with.
But one word, one question from the mouth of God is enough to wrench our hearts, to throw us to the ground, to bleed us dry: "Lovest thou me?"

I have experienced that barren and plain hurt inflicted by Jesus' three-worded question. It is a pain that no language can utter and no mind conceive unless experienced first-hand, because it is one that spreads like an angry and wild fire to the farthest corners of my being, body, mind and soul.

When God asks us "Lovest thou me?", it is impossible to formulate any reply because everything is laid bare before our waking eye, everything that brings Him joy together with everything that causes Him hurt, everything we have performed in accordance to His Will together with everything we have committed out of His Will. And that knowledge of causing God pain really is so much, too much to bear.

But we bear it, nail our iniquities and sins to the cross and carry it on our backs because we trust & hope. We trust in the Lord's promise of forgiveness, trust in His nature, trust in Jesus' paid ransom for our souls, and hope for a better tomorrow, hope to continue walking in the Light of God, hope to become more and more Christ-like, and hope to bring Him greater joy - for that is why we exist, is it not?

"Lovest thou me?", asks Jesus.

For Daena:

Though we're 23 this year, there's still so much for us to learn. But, God-willing, and if you're willing, we shall journey together. Sisters forever.

~Hugs~

P\S: Maybe I'll record this for you and send you a copy when you return from your trip =] I like this one very much too!