How do our limits reflect God’s design?
By / Mar 1

We live in an age that values productivity. There is an entire cottage industry of books and resources to help us manage our time, organize our lives, and squeeze every last second out of the day. As a proponent of time management processes (though not always the best adherent), I find these useful tools. However, in our pursuit of doing more, we are often saying with our lives a lie that we would likely never utter with our lips: “I am god, and I am unlimited.” 

However, as theologian and author Kelly Kapic reminds us in his new book, You’re Only Human, our limits and dependencies are a good gift from God, not the result of the brokenness of the world. He was kind enough to join us for an interview to discuss the reality of our limits, our need for rest and humility, and why we struggle to see all of this as an essential and good part of our nature as created image-bearers.  

Alex Ward: Our limitations and finitude are something that you say we often run into through our encounter with the harsher parts of reality — a child’s sickness, an overwhelmed schedule, the loss of a job late in life — rather than an idea and concept that we meditate on as a comfort. Why is it that so often it takes these harsh moments for us to realize our limits?

Kelly Kapic: None of us would call ourselves ‘god,’ but when we start to explore our deepest assumptions and how we approach life, what we often find betrays hidden beliefs: we assume we are or at least should be in control. And that is how we try to conduct our lives. Until there is a serious problem, we tend to assume the problem is something we can solve, and so we just try harder, get more organized, and then we assume the challenge can be overcome.  

But often it is only when things start to fall apart that we realize we can’t make everything all right. As the curtain is lifted, if we have the courage, we start to realize how little we were ‘in control of’ in the first place. And it is during those times we finally start to consider our finitude.

AW: Especially in our current American context where we can have almost anything easily and quickly, why are limits a good thing? How do they help us see God better and our relationship to him? 

KK: Limits are a good thing because God created human creatures, and to be a creature is, by design, to have limits. Finitude doesn’t necessarily imply talk about death: it is just a fancy term that means we are limited by space, time, knowledge, power, etc. In my book, when I am talking about ‘finitude,’ I am talking about these limits. We have a particular body, a particular brain, we come from this family and not that one, we live here and not there, we have these neighbors and not those. All of those particulars situate us, both opening up opportunities for us but also making claims on us, inevitably limiting us in various ways.  

One of my concerns is that Christians have too often confused finitude with sin, and so we start to believe we must overcome all our limits. We feel guilty about our limits, treating them like sins that should be resisted and overcome.  

Without realizing it, this confusion often breeds unhealthy guilt among God’s people when we constantly feel that we should be doing more. Do we allow ourselves to go to bed at night knowing that in our smallness God has been honored and that he delights in us even in our small world? Put differently, does faithfulness require that we sign up for every legitimate volunteer opportunity, or attend every meeting, or give to every noble cause?  

Here is the big surprise: God created us as finite, which means we are made to be dependent.  Healthy dependence or interdependence is part of the good of God’s creation, not the fall. What sin does is distort and undermine healthy dependence, but it did not create it. The fact that we think of the word ‘dependence’ in purely negative terms says a lot about us as a culture and as individuals.  

AW” It’s not uncommon for people to create new schedules or plans at the beginning of the year to try and squeeze more time out of their day, whether that’s because they want to read more, workout more, or just spend more time with family. So how should Christians approach these productivity hacks and attempts to redeem their time? Is it ultimately just a futile quest?

KK: Personally, I love ‘to-do’ lists and ‘time management’ suggestions, but I also think they are dangerously seductive. And I think we need to be asking a different set of questions.

I am arguing that ultimately we are not dealing with a time management problem, but with a theological one. We have misunderstood God, how he created the world, and what he expects of us. Until we deal with this underlying problem, we will always feel exhausted, defeated, guilty, and frustrated. Sadly, the Church often tries to deal with these feelings in the same way as the world, through better “time management.”  

Even the language of ‘managing time’ or ‘organizing time’ often gives us a false sense of control. We can make plans, but actually time is not something we can control or manage. It is not within our power. This is why we — including me — get so easily angry when our perfectly planned productive days go sideways. Part of what happened is we imagined we had more control than we actually did, and until we are more honest about how these assumptions affect us, we won’t address the anger, frustration, and despair that so easily starts to permeate our lives because we are not ‘getting everything done.’

Without launching into a much larger discussion here, I will just give one suggestion: be more realistic. I know, for example, that my ‘to-do’ list for Monday is really not a to-do list for the day but will likely take me a week. When I don’t realize that, it easily produces what one writer calls ‘productivity shame.’ We set ourselves up for failure.  

As Christians, we don’t need to feel guilty about our limits, but we need to have the courage to be more honest about them. And that includes how much time is required by the relationships that God puts into our lives. We can’t do everything, nor does God call us to.  

Similarly, we should ask, in this particular season of life and in this particular place with my particular gifts and limits, what does faithfulness look like for me here and now? Try to be honest with yourself. It will take courage to allow yourself to do less.  

When we add too many things to our schedule and we are driven by productivity as our highest good, then we end up with little margin. And experience tells me that love takes place in those margins. Therefore, as Christians we need to slow down in order that you can be present and able to really love others as God gives opportunity. A test case: love inevitably makes demands, so when opportunities to love arise in our days, do we find ourselves getting bitter and angry inside, or grateful for a chance to care for another person?

AW: We live in a society that prizes individuality and the ability to present the best version of yourself, whether in business or social media or just personal interactions. But you remind us that humility should be central to how Christians interact in the world. Why do we need a theology of humility, especially now?

KK: I believe humility is central to a Christian vision and life. But, as I discuss in the book, I worry that we have too often built our understanding of humility on the foundation of sin, on the idea that we should be humble because we are sinners. While I think our sin does add weight to the call for us to be humble, I don’t think that is a good foundation for humility. And when we build humility on this as the foundation, we shouldn’t be surprised when we get so many unhealthy views of humility.

But biblically, we should be humble simply because this is a realistic recognition that we are limited creatures. Humility is the joyful affirmation of reality, the reality that as creatures we were always made to be dependent upon God, others, and the Earth. Even if there were no sin and fall, humans were to be humble. Humility both fosters worship of our Creator God, and it liberates people to delight in others without always having to compete with them. Humility doesn’t just say “I’m sorry,” but “how should I do this?” and “what do you think?” At its best, humility comes out in sincere questions and gratitude, not self-loathing.

AW: One element of our finitude that seems to create such tension is how we relate to time and the demands of our life. You note a helpful distinction between stress and anxiety. Especially with all the recent studies and reports about the overwhelming sense of anxiety that have been produced by the pandemic and our isolation, how should we think about these concepts? How should we respond to stresses in our lives?

KK: That is a great question. Since I can’t unpack this like I do in the book, I will just say that I think anxiety is often a distorted relationship to time. And so in order to address some of the deeper problems, we have to explore things like expectations. As I explore in the chapter on this topic, I came to believe that the way to navigate this high level of stress and anxiety is through a renewed appreciation for the ancient Hebrew understanding of the “fear of the Lord.” I will just say here, I think at its root this points us to the idea of learning to recognize God’s presence in our lives and in his world. He is always present, but do we recognize him? And I would connect learning to be present with God with learning to be more present with others — and I strongly think one of the reasons we have a rise in anxiety is related to our inability to be truly present with each other, even when we are physically together.

AW: In previous generations, if I wanted to learn something it might have taken weeks or months to get the right books and go through the right coursework, whereas now I can just google an answer. Similarly, I might have needed weeks for a package to arrive and now can have it in a matter of hours if I’m close enough to an Amazon hub. How has this distorted our understanding of the progressive and long-term process of God’s work in our lives?

KK: I think what you describe above is real and it does affect us. And when you put into that situation a Christian who recognizes the sins and weaknesses in our lives, we end up with a potent question: why doesn’t God just instantly change us, since he doesn’t want us to sin?  Behind these questions and concerns is often our sense that God wants us to be perfect immediately. And yet even in the creation narrative, God takes his time. He values process.  One day to the next, things unfold, build upon each other, grow and develop. God has always been comfortable with process, and we need to rediscover the good of process. This can significantly transform our Christian lives and give us a renewed sense of hope and courage. It really is true, he who began a good work in us will continue it to completion. And if he is okay with not instantaneously completing his work in us, then we should not lose heart that our growth often takes time.  

AW: If I’m looking to develop this proper theology of my limits, what are some practical steps that I can take? What is a good place to start? What practices can I build into my life to help with that? 

KK: In the last chapter I suggest four perspectives that can help us return to a healthier relationship with our limits: rhythm, vulnerability, gratitude, and rest. Obviously it takes me a long chapter to unpack these four, but let me just give a sentence or two for each.  

We would do well to learn to honor different seasons of life and adjust our expectations about what faithfulness looks like as we live within the rhythm of each season of life as we go through it. Being 18 is different from being 58, and having a newborn is different from being an empty nester; appreciating the rhythm of decades, years, months, and days can give us a healthier view of opportunities and limits.   

Cultivating an awareness of our vulnerability (which in the book I explain is different from being ‘fragile’) can help us learn to appreciate the healthiness of our dependence upon God, neighbor, and the earth. This helps us grow more comfortable in our relationships, admitting our needs as well as being more ready to offer our gifts for the good of others.

I believe we need to learn both lament and gratitude as expressions of our experience of the world and of our dependence on God in it. We can’t control everything, and so when tragedy, pain, and suffering happen, we should lament. But we can also learn to be grateful, not for evil, but for God’s presence and care which are always active. Rather than pick between lament and gratitude, we need both, sometimes simultaneously. And when we practice them, I think we end up with a healthier relationship to our own finitude and to God.  

Finally, rest. It was fun to talk about a theology of sleep in the book, and why sleeping can be an act of faith. Simply put, we can sleep because God never does. That can be especially hard for us when anxiety swirls all around us. It’s hard for me. I also encourage us to rediscover the joy of a regular day of rest, which is set aside for worship, a different pace, and a release from doing our normal labor. It has become radically countercultural to set aside one day in seven for this kind of rest, but this is fundamental to how God made us. This is not about unthinking conformity to a legal code; instead, God uses our worship and rest to root us more deeply in human flourishing and to give us a vision for life much greater than an endless list of to-dos.

How can Christians resist the ethic of outrage culture?
By / Apr 8

As 2020 ended, many anticipated that the turning of the New Year would bring with it a fresh dose of hope and a reprieve from the hardships that marked the last year. And, in some ways, it has. COVID-19, at least in America, seems to be trending in a promising direction, vaccinations continue at a rapid pace, and life is slowly beginning to look more normal. But while one pandemic seems keen on abating, another more insidious pathogen continues to intensify. 

I’m speaking of our “outrage culture” and the anger that fuels it. Outrage culture, sadly, is a phenomenon that has enticed us far and wide, even within the church. And, based on Tim Kreider’s commentary, “enticed” is the exact right word. He says, “Outrage is like a lot of other things that feel good but over time devour us from the inside out. And it’s even more insidious than most vices because we don’t even consciously acknowledge that it’s a pleasure” (emphasis added). Pete Ross calls our anger and outrage an “acceptable and addictive drug of society” which convinces us that we’re smart, we’re right, and “we have the necessary ideas to fix everything. That we’re the ones that need to be in charge.” We apparently can’t help but participate in outrage culture because doing so feeds a Pharisaical self-righteousness that feels good. It coddles the pride that, unless God grants repentance, will result in disgrace and, ultimately, our destruction.

Proverbs and the way of wisdom

Sadly, among the Christian community, our outrage and self-righteous Pharisaism is often aimed toward one another. Dan Darling calls this “a kind of performative self-flagellation incentivized by a social media environment that rewards hot-takes, shaming, and appealing to tribes,” all of which spills out of a heart angered by the internet controversy of the day. And day after day, Christians, with unbefitting outrage, continue to “rhetorically sacrifice” their own brothers and sisters in the faith. 

If our anger and outrage—forms of self-righteous pleasure-seeking—are rooted in pride, then the book of Proverbs shows us a better way. Proverbs 11:12 says, “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.” The way of outrage culture is the way of belligerence, the way lacking in self-control, the way of slander and self-righteousness; it is the way of pride. But the way of wisdom is the way of humility and charity, of compassion, of patience and long-suffering; it is the way of holiness. 

But, the question remains, can Christians resist the enticements of outrage culture? From the Proverbs of Solomon to the book of James, the Bible answers this contemporary question with a resounding yes. By the power of the Spirit, humility and charity are the first two steps forward. 

  1. Humility

Rick Warren, in his best-selling book The Purpose Driven Life, said, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less,” which is generally a fair statement. But, in the case of outrage culture, where the tendency is to lambaste our opponents because “we’re right and we need to be in charge,” thinking less of ourselves and the primacy of our expertise is an effective place to begin. Biblical humility, though, does not advocate for a self-deprecating view of oneself. Rather, it advocates for a right view of oneself, recognizing that we are creatures, recipients of God’s common grace who are offered God’s saving grace found in Christ, just like those we’re raging against.

Further, because we know that “pride goes before destruction,” as Solomon warns, we can be sure that if we practice the ethic of the outrage culture, with its furious fits and spats, any authority that we possess or hope to possess will ultimately be taken from us. In so doing, we will have proven ourselves unqualified. There is no attribute or behavior more unbefitting of the kingdom of God than the sin of pride.

Jesus tells us in his Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the humble, for they will inherit the earth” (Matt. 5:5). Unimaginable honor and authority await those who have humbled themselves before God. We will not show ourselves capable of entering God’s kingdom or exercising the rule he promises to entrust us with until humility becomes our fundamental orientation toward our Father in Heaven, our brothers and sisters, and our neighbors, whether online or in-person.

  1. Charity

Scrolling down a Twitter feed or a Facebook timeline, it’s often hard to imagine that Christians take Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount seriously. Though he was clear on the mountainside that day that he expects his followers to love not only our neighbors but our enemies, this has proven to be an elusive standard. Even the most intuitive act of charity, “loving those who love you,” often seems too ambitious for the people of God in our online interactions.

But, Jesus and, later, the Apostle Paul, were not offering quips or suggestions to be implemented at our discretion. They were showing us the way of righteousness, the narrow way of the kingdom, the way of the children of God. “Love your enemies,” Jesus says, “For he (God) is gracious to the ungrateful and evil” (Luke 6:35). “Charity is kind,” says Paul, “it doth not behave itself unseemly . . . is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil . . . beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things,” (1 Cor. 13:4, 5, 7, KJV). “This is the way,” God is telling us. “Walk in it” (Isa.30:21).

God the Father, through God the Son, by the power of God the Holy Spirit has commanded and empowered us to live our lives with a charity that is other-worldly and that we learn from him. Thus, as we seek to resist the lure of outrage culture and embody the way of Christ, let us take seriously these words of Andrew Murray: “Let our temper be under the rule of the love of Jesus. He alone can make us gentle and patient. Let the vow that not an unkind word about others will ever be heard from our lips (or read in our writing) be laid trustingly at His feet. Let the gentleness that refuses to take offense, that is always ready to excuse, to think and hope the best, mark our dealings with all.”

Outrage toward indwelling sin

Not all outrage is off-limits for the children of God, though. A Christian ought to be appalled at the lingering depravity and brokenness of the world; it is our native response. In fact, to pray “thy kingdom come,” as Jesus taught us, is itself a statement of outrage against the world’s fallenness. But woe to us if we believe it right to do violence against God’s image-bearers with uncharitable and outrageous words.

There is a place where the full force of our outrage can be levied: Toward indwelling sin. John Owen famously said, “Be killing sin or it will be killing you.” Rather than adopting the ethic of outrage culture and spewing rage at one another, and taking pleasure in it, we would do well to redirect our attention inward, toward the indwelling sin “waiting to destroy everything we love,” as Matt Chandler has said. The Apostle Paul says, “if you live according to the flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live” (Rom. 8:13). Life and death are before us. Shall we yield to the pride of our flesh and join the carnal chorus of outrage culture, a culture that loves its sin and hates its neighbor? Or shall we aim our outrage inward and, by the Spirit, put to death these self-righteous deeds of the body?

Brothers and sisters, may we be a people who embody the ethic of God’s kingdom, not that of outrage culture. May we be a people who keep the commands of Jesus, all of them. And, humbly, may we begin by loving our neighbors and hating our sin.  

10 political resolutions for 2021 and beyond
By / Mar 29

Nearly 300 years ago, Jonathan Edwards penned his now-famous Resolutions. According to Stephen Nichols, these 70 resolutions were recorded by Edwards at a moment when he was nearing the end of his ministerial training, taking “advantage of the opportunity to pause and reflect on the type of person he wanted to be and the way in which he wanted to live his life.” In effect, with his Resolutions, Edwards wrote a “system of checks and balances he would use to chart out his life–his relationships, his conversations, his desires, his activities.” Informed by the Word of God like few others, Edwards, with this “advice to himself,” set guardrails to keep his feet on the way of faithfulness. 

We need a resolution

Undoubtedly, countless of us have benefited from Edwards’ advice. It is in that vein that I propose a set of resolutions for the day in which we live, specifically in our American cultural-political context. 

What kind of people are we becoming? What kind of life do we want to live? These were the sorts of questions that Edwards paused and asked himself, and these are the very questions that we must pause and, with Christlike humility, ask of ourselves. In a political culture rife with disrespect, slander, and self-serving theatrics, behaviors that the church is regularly seen participating in, we find ourselves in dire need of our own Godward guardrails.

So, as we go forward, may the following resolutions serve as a system of checks and balances meant to stay our feet on the way of Christ and engage others with the heart of Christ. 

10 political resolutions for 2021 and beyond

I want to begin with Edwards’ own words: “Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God’s help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace to enable me to keep these resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ’s sake.”

  1. Resolved, to view others, regardless of religious or political affiliation, as persons made in the image of God, and to treat them as such. 
  2. Resolved, in politics, as in life, “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with my God” (Micah 6:8).
  3. Resolved, to be devoted to the truth, most especially God’s Word, but, likewise, truth generally, taking care not to purport that which is untrustworthy and/or false. 
  4. Resolved, to act instinctively toward others not with skepticism or cynicism but, regardless of one’s religious or political affiliation, to assume the best and give the benefit of the doubt unless proven otherwise. 
  5. Resolved, to always speak and act with charity. 
  6. Resolved, where appropriate, to exercise the courage required to participate in local, state, and/or federal civil service, whether as an official or simply an engaged citizen, for “the peace and prosperity of the city” where God has placed me (Jer. 29:7).
  7. Resolved, as far as it depends on me, to never allow political affiliation to dissolve my fellowship with a brother or sister in Christ, a family member, a friend, or a neighbor.
  8. Resolved, to hold elected officials accountable to the standards of the office to which they’ve been appointed, and to do so with charity and respect, for their good, for the good of those they represent or govern, and for the public witness of the church.
  9. Resolved, to be a good church member, family member, friend, neighbor, and citizen. 
  10. Resolved, to reserve my first and strongest allegiance to Christ and his kingdom, recognizing that “to love my country best I must love Christ first.”

For Christ and the common good

As Americans, we have the pleasure and the privilege of engaging directly in the politics that govern our country. As Christians, we have the responsibility to do so in a way that is pleasing to the God who made us and “determined our appointed times and the boundaries of where we live” (Acts 17:26). It is a privilege and responsibility that should be exercised with integrity, great care, and sobriety. May these resolutions serve as guardrails for faithful Christian civic engagement, for the glory of God and the good of our society. And, like Edwards, may these resolutions signal and enact our “utmost determination to bring every area of our life under subjection of the Lordship of Christ.” 

How can Christians cultivate humility in a social media platform era?
By / May 7

Matt Hall shares how can Christians, especially leaders, can cultivate humility and civility in a social media platform. 

How to embrace your dispensability
By / May 2

In our family, I’ve been the primary cook the past 17 years. I enjoy cooking and baking, and have happily served in that role. Over the past few years, my oldest daughter has also developed an interest in baking. As I’ve sought to transfer my limited skills to her, we’ve enjoyed making cakes and cookies and some dinners together.

Already at age 14, her skills are surpassing mine. One Saturday morning, I woke up to the smell of delicious homemade cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. Even though the recipe I’ve always used called for pre-made dough, my daughter had decided to make her dough from scratch.

“How did you know how to make these?” I asked in disbelief as I looked at the beautifully spiraled cinnamon bread.

“I just found a recipe in your cookbook and followed it.”

What a sweet reminder that my skills are not indispensable—the very person I was trying to teach and pass them off to was now teaching me.

Lessons from the Promised Land

Moses had done an amazing job leading the Israelites for 40 years. He had persevered through their complaining, interceded for them when God’s anger was hot, and led them to the very border of the Promised Land. But due to his failure to obey God in one particular, weighty moment, he would not be allowed to enter Canaan. As we’ve seen, however, Moses was not angry or bitter. In fact, he demonstrated much compassion when he asked the Lord to appoint his replacement—another man to go before the Israelites as their shepherd (Num. 27:16-17).

Pride says, Everything will fall apart if I’m not involved!

Humility says, Things could probably start to run even better without me.

In response, the Lord appointed Joshua, one of only two men from the original group of Israelites who were able to enter Canaan. Moses was to commission Joshua by laying his hand on him before Eleazer the priest and the congregation. He was to transfer some of his authority to Joshua so that all the people would obey him.

“And Moses did as the Lord commanded him. He took Joshua and made him stand before Eleazar the priest and the whole congregation, and he laid his hands on him and commissioned him as the Lord directed through Moses” (Num. 27:22-23). What a beautiful example of a ministry continuing with a new leader in place.

Oftentimes, we’re tempted to think things will fall apart if we’re removed from the equation. We’re afraid to give up control and trust that someone else can finish the task just as well, if not better, than we can. I see myself doing this whenever I fail to allow my kids to do certain chores because I think they won’t be done well enough. I’m just going to unload the dishwasher because the kids do it wrong every time. I’d better clean the floor myself or it will still be dirty.

It can happen at work when we don’t ask for help on a big project, exhausting ourselves with long hours because we fear others wouldn’t be as thorough. And it can happen
 in our ministries when we don’t invest the time to raise 
up new leaders because we think there isn’t anyone else qualified for the job. I can’t step down from leading Bible studies because there is no one else to do it well! This kind of thinking stems from pride and can often rob us of needed rest, as well as rob others of opportunities to serve.

Pride says, Everything will fall apart if I’m not involved!

Humility says, Things could probably start to run even better without me.

Humility in the face of change

Moses demonstrated amazing humility as he submitted to God’s plan for a transfer of leadership without grumbling or self-pity. Moses trusted that he was not an indispensable leader.

Joshua, for his part, was deemed “a man in whom is the Spirit” (Num. 27:18). He was an obedient follower of God, even when everyone around him was rebelling. And God rewarded him for his faithfulness.

God’s purposes will stand despite changes in leadership. Human beings are merely God’s chosen vessels to carry out his plans, by the power he supplies. So, here are a few practical ways to help you let go of control and remind you of God’s bigger plan:

  1. Acknowledge your limitations. Are you constantly stressed? Do you take on too many things? Be willing to step back and evaluate your heart. The first step to releasing control is recognizing that you can’t do everything yourself.
  2. Pray for new leaders.  Whether you’re leading a ministry in your church, running a business, or raising the next generation, be diligent to ask God to raise up capable, new leaders. Keep your eyes open for those who are ready to be given new responsibilities and trust that God is able to do more than you ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20-21).
  3. Train others. It takes time to invest in people. Often we can resort to doing everything ourselves because it seems more efficient. But in the long run, we’re making things more difficult by not passing along our skills to others. More can be accomplished when we’re willing to equip others to share the load.
  4. Delegate responsibility. Assign specific chores to your children each week. Be willing to give your new employee a chance to spread their wings. Ask the woman passionate about Bible study to lead the next women’s study. Look for ways to offload the tasks on your plate while providing others new opportunities to serve.
  5. Encourage others. A humble heart can see many blessings, even when things are done differently than how you had previously done them.  Be the biggest cheerleader for those around you beginning new endeavors. Seek to be a help and resource to them. Be generous with praise and gratitude.
  6. Rest. Do you take time to rest? Or are you constantly working on the next thing, fearing the world won’t go on without finishing your to-do list? Finding time to intentionally rest each week, and putting aside work and chores, is a means of trusting the Lord is in control. He can accomplish his purposes without you. Lay your burdens on the cross (Matt. 11:28-30).

Editor's note: This article was adapted from Wilderness Wanderings: Finding Contentment in the Desert Times of Life.

Humility is the soil for thanksgiving
By / Dec 23

We recently celebrated Thanksgiving, a holiday centered on giving thanks for all that we have. Since then, we’ve moved right into the Christmas season. Our neighbors are decking their halls and home with their Christmas best. The streets are lit with twinkling lights, and the stores are crowded with shoppers. The smell of baked goods is in the air, and the sounds of carols are coming from every speaker.

In the midst of all the Christmas cheer, many of us function as if the season for thanksgiving has passed. We shop without giving one thought toward the one who has given us the ability to work and earn money. We bake without seeking the one who is our daily bread. Others of us just don’t feel like being thankful and cheery. Life can be hard,  and it can seem like there just isn’t anything to be “merry” about. But, especially at Christmas, we are reminded that, as Christians, we have unending reasons to give thanks.

The one who gave thanks

And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well. (Luke 17:12-19)

In Jesus’ day, the Samaritans were despised by the Jews. It was a hatred that went all the way back to the time when Israel split into two kingdoms and Assyria conquered the northern kingdom. John 4 described this animosity when the woman at the well said to Jesus, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink? (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans)” (4:9).

Because of this history, the Jews did not talk to or associate with Samaritans. In the case of the ten lepers, it is not only striking that Jesus healed the Samaritan leper, but also that the leper returned to give Jesus thanks. The Samaritan's gratitude is all the more compelling given the fact that none of the other lepers returned in gratitude. Perhaps he knew more than the other nine that he did not deserve Jesus’ healing. He knew well his standing before the Jews and that Jesus could have just healed the nine and left him out of it.

In humility, the healed leper returned to give Jesus praise and thanksgiving. Jesus responded, “Your faith has made you well.” Not only was he healed and saved on the outside, but his soul found healing and salvation as well.

A reason to give thanks

When a non-believer give thanks or makes a gratitude list, it’s not about the things they are thankful that God has done for them. Rather, it’s more like “these are the things I am happy about in my life” kind of list. In thinking about all the good things they have in their life, they feel a boost of happiness. That's because experts say that having a grateful attitude is good for us. Looking at all the blessings we have in our life makes us realize that things aren't as bad as we think. It changes our perspective, reduces stress and transforms our mood. For many in our society, such gratitude is simply a feel-good exercise to greater self-fulfillment and has nothing to do with God at all.

For believers in Christ, our gratitude looks very different from that of non-believers. Our gratitude is based on something other than feel-good sentiment, and it’s not about self-fulfillment. Our thanksgiving is directed to someone, to the God who made us. And it is in response to who he is and what he has done.

In fact, a believer's gratitude comes from a humble heart that acknowledges we are but dust. God created us and breathed in us the breath of life. He sustains us each day. We are completely dependent upon him and can do nothing apart from him (John 15:5). Everything we have is a gift of his grace. As Peter said in Acts, “nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything” (17:25).

A humble heart knows its position before the God of the universe and bows in reverence, awe, wonder and gratitude. Such a heart knows that it is unworthy and undeserving of God’s grace. In reference to this story of the ten lepers, the Gospel Transformation Bible says, “Our worshipful response—or lack thereof—reflects the depth of our understanding of God’s mercy and goodness. The first and greatest response to the gospel of grace is thankful worship” (p.1387). When we know the holiness of God, the wisdom of God, the power of God, and the rich grace of God, we realize how amazing it is that we are able to stand in his presence and receive his gift of salvation through Jesus Christ.

It is in this fertile soil of humility where thanksgiving and gratitude grows and thrives. Any soil that denies God’s holiness, wisdom power, and sovereignty will speak words of thanksgiving, but without deep roots, it will not thrive or last. Like the nine other lepers, it will gladly take the good gifts God bestows but won't truly honor and thank him for who he is and what he has done.

In the soil of humility, thanksgiving grows even in the darkest of nights and in the fiercest climates where suffering and trials bear down hard. This is why Paul could say that we are to give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:18). This is where much of the world’s efforts at thanksgiving and gratitude break down. It’s easy to be grateful when our blessings are many. But to continue to give thanks in the midst of trial reveals the type of soil in which thanksgiving resides. The soil of humility will produce thanksgiving in all seasons—in sunshine and rain, in plenty or in want.

The soil itself is something for which we must give thanks for it is not a soil we can produce on our own. It too is a gift of God's generous grace. From beginning to end, it’s all a gift of God’s grace.

That is why no matter our circumstances, there is reason for joy and thanksgiving this Christmas. We can be grateful because we know that, like the Samaritan leper, we are not worthy of God’s grace. And we can sing carols with a grateful heart because God has given us the greatest gift of his grace: his only Son.