A couple years ago I got the bug to run. I had put on some extra pounds, but I hadn’t really thought much about it. Then I saw a picture of myself. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it in the mirror, but the picture made it “abundantly” clear that I was now officially overweight. I thought, “I can exercise this weight off, but I need a challenge to keep me motivated.” So I set my sights on a half-marathon in the spring and I started running. I know that many people have a healthy distrust of running as an exercise, and they are probably wise, but something about the simplicity of running appealed to me. Really, I think it was the geekiness of pace watches and heart monitors that I found most appealing. Pretty soon, my motivation turned upside down. By that, I mean I was no longer running to lose weight. I was losing weight so I could run. The first time I finished a half-marathon, I was so proud of myself, I went out and got a “13.1” bumper sticker for my car. I was now in the club. I was one of the people who had self-discipline. I was now a lean, mean, goal-oriented, motivated, good habit-forming, active type that other people envied. I don’t mean to belittle it. It felt good. It felt good to earn self-respect, and for once, to get up on a perch and be able to look down and judge all the unmotivated masses (yes, it’s a slippery slope). Does anybody remember the financial company whose tag line was,
“We make money the old-fashioned way. We earn it.”
There is something appealing about “earning it,” even when it comes to practicing our “faith.” Is it the pride of accomplishment, the luxury of a favorable comparison? Does it really feel better to be more religious, or does it just offer the promise of feeling better without ever fully delivering? If praying for five minutes is good, wouldn’t praying for fifteen minutes be even better? If reading one verse of the Bible is helpful, wouldn’t reading a whole chapter, or maybe two or three chapters be even more helpful? Maybe I should try fasting. If somebody tells me that the Christian life is hard, that is strangely appealing. If I am disappointed in my personal failings and bad habits, then some deep introspection is in order, so I can get to the root of what is holding me back. I must deny myself, pick up my cross and follow (more on that later). Does any of this sound familiar? Maybe you never really got a good start on the “faith” thing, because you knew right away you couldn’t live up to it. For me, “earning it” has always had an appeal.
I was knee deep in the “practicing” of my faith, studying my Bible like a text book, when I came across a verse that seemed like it didn’t belong:
“. . . Lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted . . . and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth.” (Ephesians 4:22-24)
Here I was, trying to overcome all my failings and rebuild myself into a new person, and the Bible seemed to be saying that I could just lay aside my old self and put on the new self like a suit of clothes. I looked up the Greek, and, sure enough, it meant exactly that. I was reminded of the old saying, “Clothes make the man.” It seemed so superficial, so lacking in substance. To be honest, I couldn’t accept it at the time. But, recently, I discovered that it is a theme that runs throughout the Bible. Paul uses similar language in most of his letters. It starts in the Garden of Eden, runs through the Patriarchs, the Law, the Prophets, and all the way through to the end of the book of Revelation. Jesus even tells a parable about it. I’m not going to cite all those passages, but I would like to go to a couple of them, starting with Revelation 19, because that is where the meaning of the clothing is actually defined:
“It was given to her [the bride of the Lamb] to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.”
The bride of the Lamb is us at the marriage feast in heaven. The clothing is defined as the “righteous acts of the saints,” and that is an unfortunate translation, which masks the true meaning. The word is plural, and it should be translated, “‘righteousnesses’ of the saints.” It is not speaking of “good deeds,” it is speaking of righteousness by decree, given to each saint, like a garment. The only act is the pronouncement of right standing before God, given to you and me, for we are saints, if we are believers. I want to show you another passage. It is a part of a parable that Jesus told to the religious authorities who were opposing Him:
“The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son. “And he sent out his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding feast, and they were unwilling to come.” (Matt. 22:2,3)
[Jesus then describes the anger of the King toward the invited guests who refused His invitation and killed His slaves.]
“Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy. ‘Go therefore to the main highways, and as many as you find there, invite to the wedding feast.’ “Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered together all they found, both evil and good; and the wedding hall was filled with dinner guests.” (Matt. 22:8-10)
[Jesus is describing the same marriage feast that we saw in Revelation 19. Yet, “both evil and good” were invited]
“But when the king came in to look over the dinner guests, he saw a man there who was not dressed in wedding clothes, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you come in here without wedding clothes?’ And the man was speechless. “Then the king said to the servants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness.” (Matt. 22:11-13)
In the parable, the invited guests were the religious leaders that He was talking to (remember that the purpose of the parables was to hide truth from the religiously proud, and to reveal it only to those who were spiritually hungry). The people found on the main highway, both evil and good, are you and me. But who is the man without wedding clothes? The story doesn’t tell us if he was evil or good, only that he was without the proper attire! When I read the story for the first time, I was waiting for the King to discover that there were evil people at His feast. But, don’t you see, that is the point of the story! It is not your personal holiness that God is looking for. He is looking for the righteousness of His Son, which was given to you, when you believed in Jesus. And now God sees Jesus when He looks at you. He doesn’t see the dirt inside you; He sees your new set of clothes!
It seems scandalous to say that God doesn’t see your sin any more, that He only sees the righteousness of His Son. It sounds, to the human ear, like permission to sin. And that is the exact argument that was made against the apostle Paul, when he preached it. But, God is only interested in the righteousness of His Son. He is not interested in your righteousness. My efforts to “earn it” were pointless and counterproductive. Do you believe in Jesus? “That’s great!”, the enemy will say. “Now, if you want to live up to all of that, you need discipline and self-denial; you need to be a much better person than you are now. Some day, you might be pleasing to the Father, but you have a long way to go.”
Then Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.” (Matt. 16:24)
This verse is quoted by many as proof that we must pay a great price to follow Christ; that we should not expect anything more than suffering and hardship, if we are fully devoted followers; that expecting blessing in this life is shallow and not the true way of faith. Will you allow me to explain this passage to you? During Jesus’ ministry, He became very popular with the people, and His disciples saw Him as the great Messiah, who would deliver His people from bondage to the Romans, and set up the prophesied Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus was not encouraging followers, but warning them off! He was saying, “So you want to be my followers? I’m on my way to the cross. If you really want to follow me, that is where I am headed.” Now, I have a question for you? Is Jesus still carrying His cross? No. He is seated at the right hand of the Father. The cross is part of the FINISHED work of Christ. I have already been crucified with Christ. I was buried with Him. I was raised with Him. And now I am seated at the right hand of the Father with Him. Death is not in front of me; it is behind me. Is there still a great truth that we can glean from Jesus’ words, here? Yes. When I trust in His finished work, and not in my own efforts, I am denying myself. When I point to what He did for me, and not what I can do for Him, I am taking up my cross. When I see myself in Christ, I am following in His footsteps. Then, nothing I do for Him will seem like a sacrifice!
In Romans 13:14, Paul said,
“Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts.”
You’ve been given a precious gift. It is the righteousness of Christ. You have it now, you will always have it (if you have believed in Him). Someday, you will be revealed for all you are, clothed in His righteousness. Right now, it is like a suit of clothes in your closet. You can choose to wear it or not. If you wear it, you are, by definition, denying all the contrary desires which are waging war in your body and mind. You say, "How do I put it on?" By faith you speak.
“With the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness, and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation [deliverance, wholeness].” (Romans 10:10)
Remember the guy at the feast without the wedding clothes? Jesus said that guy was “speechless.” What do I confess? I confess my righteousness in Christ! You’ve been calling yourself a failure for too long. What you are seeking, you already have.