Do you struggle with being “good enough” even after professing faith in Jesus? Do you still wonder if God likes you? Do you hesitate to think of yourself as “very good”?
This is more than a self-worth problem. Because we struggle with our own goodness, we find also that we're constantly evaluating others according to some made-up scale of "goodness." Maybe it's looking down our nose at someone else for something as silly as the outfit they’re wearing. Or maybe it's seeing yourself in a less-than-positive light because of something as silly as the outfit you're wearing. Or perhaps it’s how someone else manages their schedule – their either too loose or too controlling. That person is sooo unorganized. Their life must be chaos. Not good. Who would want to live like that? Maybe it's some other thing. We're constantly measuring "goodness" (ours and others) on the basis of something other than the "very goodness" that is built in us just because we have been created by a good God. We fail to see the goodness inherent in us and others. We're always the Pharisee.
We don't like to admit to it, but it is all too true. Even when we know it shouldn't be. Even when we don't want it to be. It seems we're trapped in a world that drags us down, even when we're trying to climb out of the muck. It messes with our thoughts about ourselves and others. We're just horrible sinners. It must be just who we are deep down.
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There is a consistent storyline throughout Scripture. It goes like this:
This is, as you might see, an obvious pattern all over Scripture. It's the story of creation, the story of the flood, the story of the exodus from Egypt, the story of the people of Israel. It's all over the place in the gospels. It's beneath Jesus' healings; it plays out in his acts of welcoming tax collectors, drunks, prostitutes, and other questionable folks into his friendship and a renewed life of hope; it's in his parables and teachings. It's the story of the Prodigal Son.
Notice in this pattern that the original goodness, meaning, and identity given by God never goes away. It’s just that life in the wasteland is such that remembering or living according to original goodness is very difficult. Things are broken in the wasteland. They are dark and vision is blurry. In the wasteland, one might want to do the good that is in us to do, but it seems to be impossible.
In the wasteland, it can be very, very easy to completely forget one’s original goodness. This is especially true if one keeps bumping up against voices and circumstances that only reinforce that one’s original goodness is far gone. Maybe it never existed. You’re not actually good deep down. Just look at your failures. You don’t measure up. Disappointment is constantly staring you down. Even your weak attempts to make things right might not work. It’s that bad.
Unfortunately this is where far too many people are, Christians included. It’s like being lost in an unfamiliar cave and you can’t find your way back out to the light. After a while you just resign yourself to the fact that getting out to open space in the light of the sun won’t happen. Get used to life in the dark cave. In fact, that's just who you are: you're a dark cave dweller. This is where you belong. Say good-bye to that original good existence, you're never going to get back to that. Good luck. May the odds ever be in your favor.
Sadly, too many Christians live like this. Even after professing faith and confessing sin and being told they’re forgiven.
Sometimes the church itself doesn't help. We focus on our constant sin, as if that's the only thing that matters about who we are. We're sinners and that needs fixing. Salvation becomes more about sin avoidance than life restoration. It’s like we’re afraid to let people (and ourselves) know that we're made "very good." We're afraid people will just keep sinning if they do. So we think we need to manage it. So we drill down on how horrible people are, how bad their sin is. Pretty soon, it’s hard to see the goodness any longer.
I find it interesting that Jesus never does it this way.
_____________________________________
Consider the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8. We don't know why her life is what it was. Bad choices on her part? Or maybe really rough circumstances in life, and this was her only option (a very real possibility in that time). And some religious folks wanted to make sure her sinfulness was dealt with. She was a "sinner."
Jesus never takes the opportunity to call her a sinner. Or to make sure she confesses before he forgives. In fact he says that he doesn't condemn her. He sets her free. Because she is not a sinner. Her life might be caught up in the world of sin, but that's not who she is. Jesus, who made her, knew that better than anyone else. She is a "very good" daughter of God lost in the wasteland. The good shepherd brought her home.
Remember the story of the prodigal son? The prodigal son never lost his sonship. In the story, the father doesn't even show that he's angry with his son's sin. The other brother would have liked a better apology, of course. Better repentance. Maybe a less eager welcome of such a horrible sinner. It's as if you can hear the other brother, "He needs to know how badly he messed up, dad! No party until he apologizes!"
Not so with the father. He was all too overjoyed at the son’s return. The son was merely “lost” according to the story. His identity never changed. He was always son. He was born beautiful, marked with goodness, and loved. Always. He was just lost, that's all, even if it was his own poor choices are what got him lost in the wasteland.
Come home, the father says. Come home.
_______________________________________
My friends, the magnificent story is just that.
James Smith's chapter "Embracing Our Goodness" is making this very point. We are good. In fact, according to the pattern of creation, we are made “very good.” We are made in the image of the merciful father who loves his children.
But we are lost. Not horrible. Not failures. Not worthless. Just lost.
This lostness is life in the wasteland. It's life under the power of sin. It's real and it eats us up, and ruins our peace. It messes up the relational intimacy we're made for. But, it’s not our identity. It doesn't destroy our goodness. It’s just where we find ourselves, like the prodigal son.
The magnificent story is that God is on a rescue mission. It’s the prodigal son story taken up another level. The father isn’t waiting around for us to get our act together, to come to our senses and come back home.
He comes after us.
God goes out on an all-night mission to find us, into the dark wasteland under the reign of sin, because he knew we couldn’t get home on our own. God came for us, not to point out that we’re unworthy. No. He came for us because we’re worth it. God knows our original goodness better than we do ourselves. And God is on a mission to bring us home so we can remember who we are.
He will find you. He will find you because you were created very good. You're worth it.
That's the story. And it’s magnificent.
This is more than a self-worth problem. Because we struggle with our own goodness, we find also that we're constantly evaluating others according to some made-up scale of "goodness." Maybe it's looking down our nose at someone else for something as silly as the outfit they’re wearing. Or maybe it's seeing yourself in a less-than-positive light because of something as silly as the outfit you're wearing. Or perhaps it’s how someone else manages their schedule – their either too loose or too controlling. That person is sooo unorganized. Their life must be chaos. Not good. Who would want to live like that? Maybe it's some other thing. We're constantly measuring "goodness" (ours and others) on the basis of something other than the "very goodness" that is built in us just because we have been created by a good God. We fail to see the goodness inherent in us and others. We're always the Pharisee.
We don't like to admit to it, but it is all too true. Even when we know it shouldn't be. Even when we don't want it to be. It seems we're trapped in a world that drags us down, even when we're trying to climb out of the muck. It messes with our thoughts about ourselves and others. We're just horrible sinners. It must be just who we are deep down.
____________________________________
There is a consistent storyline throughout Scripture. It goes like this:
- Good existence, where meaning and identity are given, where abundance and flourishing are found.
- Leaving the good existence for the sake of some other idea of a “better” existence.
- Other “better” existence turns out to be a disaster, a wasteland. Meaning and identity become confused. Good existence is forgotten. Flourishing is not found. Life is a struggle.
- Rescue from the wasteland back into existence where goodness is again known, where meaning and identity are restored. Peace is restored.
This is, as you might see, an obvious pattern all over Scripture. It's the story of creation, the story of the flood, the story of the exodus from Egypt, the story of the people of Israel. It's all over the place in the gospels. It's beneath Jesus' healings; it plays out in his acts of welcoming tax collectors, drunks, prostitutes, and other questionable folks into his friendship and a renewed life of hope; it's in his parables and teachings. It's the story of the Prodigal Son.
Notice in this pattern that the original goodness, meaning, and identity given by God never goes away. It’s just that life in the wasteland is such that remembering or living according to original goodness is very difficult. Things are broken in the wasteland. They are dark and vision is blurry. In the wasteland, one might want to do the good that is in us to do, but it seems to be impossible.
In the wasteland, it can be very, very easy to completely forget one’s original goodness. This is especially true if one keeps bumping up against voices and circumstances that only reinforce that one’s original goodness is far gone. Maybe it never existed. You’re not actually good deep down. Just look at your failures. You don’t measure up. Disappointment is constantly staring you down. Even your weak attempts to make things right might not work. It’s that bad.
Unfortunately this is where far too many people are, Christians included. It’s like being lost in an unfamiliar cave and you can’t find your way back out to the light. After a while you just resign yourself to the fact that getting out to open space in the light of the sun won’t happen. Get used to life in the dark cave. In fact, that's just who you are: you're a dark cave dweller. This is where you belong. Say good-bye to that original good existence, you're never going to get back to that. Good luck. May the odds ever be in your favor.
Sadly, too many Christians live like this. Even after professing faith and confessing sin and being told they’re forgiven.
Sometimes the church itself doesn't help. We focus on our constant sin, as if that's the only thing that matters about who we are. We're sinners and that needs fixing. Salvation becomes more about sin avoidance than life restoration. It’s like we’re afraid to let people (and ourselves) know that we're made "very good." We're afraid people will just keep sinning if they do. So we think we need to manage it. So we drill down on how horrible people are, how bad their sin is. Pretty soon, it’s hard to see the goodness any longer.
I find it interesting that Jesus never does it this way.
_____________________________________
Consider the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8. We don't know why her life is what it was. Bad choices on her part? Or maybe really rough circumstances in life, and this was her only option (a very real possibility in that time). And some religious folks wanted to make sure her sinfulness was dealt with. She was a "sinner."
Jesus never takes the opportunity to call her a sinner. Or to make sure she confesses before he forgives. In fact he says that he doesn't condemn her. He sets her free. Because she is not a sinner. Her life might be caught up in the world of sin, but that's not who she is. Jesus, who made her, knew that better than anyone else. She is a "very good" daughter of God lost in the wasteland. The good shepherd brought her home.
Remember the story of the prodigal son? The prodigal son never lost his sonship. In the story, the father doesn't even show that he's angry with his son's sin. The other brother would have liked a better apology, of course. Better repentance. Maybe a less eager welcome of such a horrible sinner. It's as if you can hear the other brother, "He needs to know how badly he messed up, dad! No party until he apologizes!"
Not so with the father. He was all too overjoyed at the son’s return. The son was merely “lost” according to the story. His identity never changed. He was always son. He was born beautiful, marked with goodness, and loved. Always. He was just lost, that's all, even if it was his own poor choices are what got him lost in the wasteland.
Come home, the father says. Come home.
_______________________________________
My friends, the magnificent story is just that.
James Smith's chapter "Embracing Our Goodness" is making this very point. We are good. In fact, according to the pattern of creation, we are made “very good.” We are made in the image of the merciful father who loves his children.
But we are lost. Not horrible. Not failures. Not worthless. Just lost.
This lostness is life in the wasteland. It's life under the power of sin. It's real and it eats us up, and ruins our peace. It messes up the relational intimacy we're made for. But, it’s not our identity. It doesn't destroy our goodness. It’s just where we find ourselves, like the prodigal son.
The magnificent story is that God is on a rescue mission. It’s the prodigal son story taken up another level. The father isn’t waiting around for us to get our act together, to come to our senses and come back home.
He comes after us.
God goes out on an all-night mission to find us, into the dark wasteland under the reign of sin, because he knew we couldn’t get home on our own. God came for us, not to point out that we’re unworthy. No. He came for us because we’re worth it. God knows our original goodness better than we do ourselves. And God is on a mission to bring us home so we can remember who we are.
He will find you. He will find you because you were created very good. You're worth it.
That's the story. And it’s magnificent.
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