Sunday, August 11, 2013

Space for Rent

WE HAVE MOVED!

After five years of blogging here, all of the content has shifted over to a new site. So please check it out at www.davidheffren.wordpress.com, and also be sure to subscribe to the new site there!

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Timing Is Everything

"No human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison" (Jas. 3:8).

I think many people can identify with James' sentiment. Self-control is a virtue, but one of the areas of life most difficult to control is one's speech. James explains that we have the ability to reign in wild animals, but often can't reign in our own words.

Recently I preached a sermon series from the book of Proverbs. Proverbs, of course, is all about fostering wisdom in the life of the reader, so in the series, the congregation looked at how we can be wise in different spheres of life. What's it mean to be wise with regard to our families? What's it look like to be wise at work? These are major themes in Proverbs. Another theme is one's words. How does a person speak wisely? We took a good look at what Proverbs says on the topic.

As I was studying the various proverbs that mention the tongue during that week before the sermon, I had to try to synthesize them into an idea that listeners could take home with them. What came to the surface in my study was this: Wisdom in your words means to say the right thing at the right time.

It's difficult to say the right thing. But I think most people understand the concept. We know we ought to speak truth rather than lies. We know we ought to be encouraging rather than critical. We know we ought to bless rather than curse. We know we ought to speak kindly rather than cruelly. Proverbs 12:18 says that rash words are like wounds from a sword, while a wise person's words bring healing. To say the right thing is to say what brings healing rather than pain, what builds up rather than tears down.

But wisdom in words doesn't stop there. Wisdom is to say the right thing at the right time. And the more I have thought about it since I preached it, the more convinced I am that this is even more difficult. You can say something that is completely true and honest--something that could be helpful at a certain moment--but when spoken at the wrong time, it does great damage. The wise person knows that there is a time to speak, but that there is also a time to stay silent.

Proverbs 15:23 says, "To make an apt answer is a joy to a man, and a word in season, how good it is!" The words we speak ought to be spoken in season. At the right time. Wisdom means not saying whatever you're thinking all the time. "Whoever restrains his words has knowledge" (Prov. 17:27).

Contemporary culture doesn't help us in this. We live in a world where, as soon as a thought enters your mind, you have the power not only speak it to the person next to you, but to broadcast it all over the world with your laptop or smartphone. In our desire to be heard (and as added bonuses: liked, favorited, retweeted, or replied to), we can say or type words without thinking about the effect they will have on others, or even on ourselves in the long run.

Another problem is that our culture is one that in some ways celebrates those who speak without restraint. We look up to people who speak their mind and who wear their hearts on their sleeves. It seems like such an honest thing--to say what you want to say without caring about what others think. We call it "genuineness" and "authenticity"--two of the greatest virtues in our contemporary culture. But Proverbs just calls it foolishness.

It's easy to spout off words without thinking of consequences. It's much harder to be silent. The truth is that in some cases, you may find yourself in a position where the time never comes to speak a certain thought on your heart and mind. Sometimes it's just best to keep it to yourself. And I think the person of wisdom learns to be okay with that.

(I should mention, in an absurdly insufficient side note, saying the right thing at the right time doesn't just mean being silent. It also means speaking when you ought to speak. I can think of plenty of times that I have been silent when I shouldn't have, in addition to times I have spoken when I shouldn't).

I have a friend named James that I went to college with. James is someone that I would describe as a person of wisdom. You can almost sense it just from being around him. And James isn't someone who speaks a lot. While others guys might go back and forth discussing a topic, he would sit back and listen. Then when he had listened and thought for a moment, he would speak. When he did, others would listen, because they cared about what he had to say.

When I think about wisdom with words--saying the right thing at the right time--I think about my friend James. That's the kind of person I want to grow to be. I don't imagine it's easy, and I'm certainly not very good at it yet.

So until I learn to tame my tongue, I might as well get back to my career as a horse-whisperer who tames wild stallions. We all have to make a living somehow.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Living Well While Living Alone

It's been almost two years since I moved out of my parents' basement and settled into my own apartment in Cincinnati to begin my life as an "adult" (which, I'm realizing, is a very relative term). After 23 years of either living in a suburban house with my family or living in a college dorm with a hundred other guys, I found myself in solitude.

To be perfectly honest, these past two years have been one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I think that many people think that, because I'm rather quiet and am not very outgoing, I desire to be a withdrawn hermit with no contact with the outside world. But that's not true at all. I like people, and I like being around them, even. Living alone in my 500-square-foot apartment has been a challenge.

I imagine that some of you out there also live alone, or you have at one point or another in your life. I've been thinking recently about how living alone does not need to be a negative stage of life. It can feel that way a lot of the time--as though my life has been put on pause until "real" life begins. But I do believe that living alone can be a time to grow and thrive if you put the work in to make it that way.

So I thought I would share a few of my thoughts here. Keep in mind, these words may reflect my own personality more than universal principles. These are things I believe are useful to me in this time while I live on my own. For you, it could be different, and if so, leave a comment and add to the discussion. I'm always down for hearing different perspectives. I should also note that what I have written here doesn't mean I have actually done any of these things especially well. I write here to encourage myself as well as others.

In any case, here a few ways that I believe one can live alone well:

1. Keep a routine

When you live alone, I think it can be easy to let your normal schedule just fall to pieces. While a person with a wife and kids and minivan has a lot of limitations on their schedules, you have much more flexibility. With that situation, I found early on that my "default mode" was to slip into complete irregularity. Some nights I would stay up until 3 a.m. watching movies and then sleep till noon. Another night I might hit the hay at 11:00 and get up at 6:00. I may eat dinner at 6:00 or at 9:00. There was no routine--no consistency.

I don't think that was a healthy way for me to live, so I have been working to build more structure into my day-to-day life. I'm trying to get up at approximately the same time each day and going through a consistent morning routine, and then going to bed at the same time each night. This gives me much more of a sense of balance to my life, and helps me feel much more "with it"--physically, emotionally, relationally, and even spiritually.

Granted, you may be in a situation where total consistency is impossible because of a crazy work schedule or other responsibilities. That's the situation I was in for my first 18 months in Cincinnati. If that is the case, I still think it's good to build routine in whatever areas of your schedule you do have control over. This can help give a more sturdy foundation for the flexible areas over which you don't have much control.

2. Do what you love

Not long ago, I sat down and thought, "What are my favorite activities to do? What are the things that I could do forever and not get tired of?" I narrowed it down to four: (1) bowling, (2) playing basketball, (3) playing Nertz (a card game, for those of you who aren't familiar with it), and (4) playing ping-pong. It may seem like a rather goofy list, but these are the things I love to do.

Then I thought about what my life has looked like since I moved to Cincinnati. In that time, I haven't touched a ping-pong paddle. I've played one game of Nertz. I have gone bowling maybe five times, and I've shot baskets four or five times.

So what have I been doing with my time? Well, I watch a lot of movies. I surf the Internet. I watch reruns of TV shows. I eat a lot of fast food.

That doesn't seem like it's how it should be. Granted, I like watching movies, and I really like eating Chick-fil-A and Wendy's. But those aren't the things I love doing. While I can't really explain why, I had neglected my favorite activities in order to be merely entertained. Maybe those of us who don't like living alone do this just to pass the time until a new stage of life begins, just like you go to bed early on Christmas Eve so that Christmas morning will seem to come faster. But I don't want my three years in Cincinnati to just be a dream. I want it to be a period of life which I can enjoy, in which I can thrive.

Do you love to play the guitar? Then pull it out of its case and start strumming. Do you love to scrapbook? Get your glue and scissors out of the box in your closet. Do you love reading? Get to the library. Do you love to bake? Then get to it, and then mail your creations to me.

The other day I went to a gym at my university and spent about 90 minutes just shooting baskets. It was the first time I had shot on a real gym floor since I graduated college. And while my already meager skills had diminished to non-existence, the experience was so refreshing.

3. Find ways to get our of your apartment

When you live alone, sometimes it can feel like you've got nowhere to be, so you might as well just stay at home on the couch. But I've found it helpful to find reasons to get out into the world outside my front door. The easy thing to do is to just stay home. But the more rewarding thing to do, I think, is to go someplace else.

I work right across the Ohio River from downtown Cincinnati. Once every week or two, once I get off in the early afternoon, I walk across one of the bridges into Cincinnati. I find a place to eat lunch, and then I go to a little park and spend a couple hours reading. I watch all the business professionals bustle around to their meetings--the women in their skirts and heals, and the men in their ties and suit jackets, all with fancy leather portfolios in hand. I listen to the church bells chime at the top of every hour.

I could read in my apartment, and frequently that at first seems more appealing than taking the long walk across the bridge. But chances are I would get distracted by Netflix and then fall asleep on my couch. And that's not living well.

4. Develop a more serious prayer life

I've always been interested in the ascetic and monastic life that has been common throughout church history. I've been influenced greatly by Brother Lawrence's Practicing the Presence of God, and I'm currently reading a chapter of Thomas a Kempis' The Imitation of Christ each morning. Something that these monastics have understood is the value of solitude. To them, life alone really wasn't life alone at all, because it was a chance to commune with God.

In my time in Cincinnati, I have been working on developing a more robust prayer life. I'm nowhere near where I should be, but I hope that I am maturing. When you're in college, for example, it can be hard to find any time or space to yourself to spend in prayer. Even at a Christian college like the one I attended, you feel a little silly when someone busts into your dorm room while you're sitting with your head bowed. But when you live alone, you have all the time and space you could ask for.

One of my goals has been to pray for people I know in more specific ways. When you live alone, it's easy to feel disconnected from people. But when you're praying by name for others, and they are praying for you--is there really a way to be more connected? Connection with God through prayer, and connection with the church through mutual intercession. Living alone provides a unique opportunity for the development of such a life.

What do you think? If you live alone, or you have in the past, what are ways you've found to do so in a positive way? What are the potential hazards to living alone?

Monday, July 15, 2013

Labeling the Lies

No one likes to be lied to.

When someone lies to you, you get angry. And for good reason. You stop trusting that person. You are cautious of other promises that person might make to you. Like the villagers who kept hearing the shepherd boy cry "Wolf!," you become skeptical of the liar's claims.

Jesus calls Satan "a liar and the father of lies" (Jn. 8:44). That's what he does. He lies. It's in his character. He's full of empty-promises, twisted half-truths, and unfulfilled expectations.

Satan's work in Scripture is introduced by the serpent's words to Eve: "You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowling good and evil." It's a flat-out lie. He promises one thing (wisdom, pleasure, life) and delivers another (death and loneliness). And for the rest of the Scriptural narrative, lies continue to be Satan's game.
"David, it's okay to take a census of the people. You'll feel much safer if you do, and it will show everyone how great of a kingdom you've built." (1 Chron. 21:1)
 "You don't need to go to a cross, Jesus. There are easier ways to get a kingdom. Bow down to me, and it'll all be yours." (Matt. 4:8-9).
"You've got to hand Jesus over, Judas. It's what's best for the nation. You'll go down in history as a hero." (Lk. 22:3)
The lies continue today--this demonic bait-and-switch. Wealth promises security and the absence of worry, but it brings added stress. Pornography promises emotional fulfillment but delivers isolation and loneliness. War promises peace at last but results in just more hatred. Drunkenness promises an escape from life's problems but actually compounds those same problems.

I've been thinking lately about the way we Christians often talk about sin-issues, and I wonder if the nomenclature we use hinders are resistance to Satan's ploys. We talk about being tempted, struggling, or wrestling with sin. Those may not be bad ways to speak, I suppose. Biblical, in fact. But it seems odd to me that I can use the same word for the sins in my life ("I'm being tempted to spend my offering money on a new iPad instead") as well as for the desserts I get after dinner ("Mmmm, that ice cream sundae sure is tempting!")

When I talk about being tempted, I often feel enticed. I feel desirous of the sin being waved in front of me. And that doesn't help me resist.

Maybe we would do better if we called sin what it is: A lie. When I realize I'm being lied to, I no longer feel enticed by it. I feel angry. And when I'm angry with the liar (in this case, Satan), I'm not very apt to go along with what he says.

Imagine you bought a car from a used car lot--one of the ones with a salesman in a plaid suit and giant inflatable guy flapping around out front. The salesman tells you that the car is in great shape. In fact, it's just had an entirely new engine put it. He tells you it should run without a problem for years. So you purchase the car and drive off the lot, but before you even get it home, smoke starts puffing out of the hood, and it sounds like someone is shaking a tin can full of nails. You pull over, pop the hood, and immediately see that the engine is not new at all. It's falling apart. The belts are broken, the gears are clogged, and it all looks terrible. When you go back to the salesman to complain and get your money back, he tells you, "Too bad! Looks like you got a lemon, but you're stuck with it!"

My guess is that you would be pretty angry in that situation. And the next week when the salesman called you up and said, "Have I got a deal for you! Just come on down to the lot, and we'll hook you up with a another luxury car," you wouldn't be very enticed. One lie--one bum deal--that was enough.

Satan is a lot like that used car salesman. He keeps making offers. "This time will be different!" But it never is. He always fails to deliver. And that should make us mad. When Peter told Jesus, "No Jesus! You won't be crucified!," Jesus didn't sit and ponder, "Hm...he might have a point. Maybe I don't need to go to the cross." Instead, Jesus shouts back, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man" (Mk. 8:33).

In my own mind, I have been trying to label invitations to sin as lies, and it has been helping me. Maybe it will for you too. Satan is a liar, and liars are jerks. I try not to associate with them. And when I   identify Satan's words as lies, those temptations just don't seem so, well, tempting.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Scripture Filling Out Scripture

Most printed Bibles come with a lot of footnotes.

If you look down at the bottom of the page, you'll find notes giving alternate translations of certain words or phrases. You'll find notes that mention that some passages aren't found in certain ancient manuscripts. And, perhaps most commonly, you'll find notes that provide a reference to another verse, namely when the present passage is quoting or referencing another.

Do you ever actually go look up the reference in those footnotes? I normally don't, to be honest. But recently I read the book Justification by N.T. Wright (which is an interesting book that deserves its own post, which I probably won't write). In the book, Wright (influenced by the work of Richard B. Hayes) points out that when the apostle Paul quotes the Old Testament in his letters (which is does often), he would have had the entire context of the original passage. In seeing how these quotations fit into the New Testament, then, it is helpful for the interpreter to go back to the Old Testament and see how the context there colors the way the quotation is being used.

I think this is a good point. After all, Paul wouldn't have conceived of Scripture as a collection of disjointed fragments (the way we often do because of modern versification). So when, for example, he throws in the quotation "Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness" in Romans 4, he may have had the entirety of Genesis 15 in the back of his mind, which ought to influence the way Romans 4 is understood even today.

I began wondering if this would be true for the other writers of the New Testament, and I think it is. Recently I have been reading the gospel of Matthew in the mornings. If you have read Matthew much at all, you know that it is full of Old Testament quotations and allusions. But how is Matthew using the Old Testament? Is he using it simply to say, "Look, here's an Old Testament prophecy about Jesus, and here's how he fulfills it, so you know he's really the Messiah!" Or do the contexts of the passages Matthew references shed light on a more well-rounded understanding of Jesus and his ministry?

A few examples from just the first few chapters of the gospel show that the latter is the case, I think. First, in Matthew 2:16-18, Matthew tells of Herod ordering that all the male children in Bethlehem under two years of age be killed after he hears of the supposed birth of a new king. Matthew then quotes Jeremiah: "A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more."

At first glance, it may seem that this quotation simply shows that it was prophesied that something bad would happen to the children of Israel. But if you go back to Jeremiah 31, you get a fuller picture. The passage speaks of the restoration of Israel. "Again I will build you, and you shall be built, O virgin Israel!" (Jer. 31:5). "For the Lord has ransomed Jacob and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him" (Jer. 31:11). It's a passage about celebrating the realization of God's plan for Israel. And right in the middle of this, you find the verse Matthew references, about Rachel weeping for her children. Then, right after this, you find this:
Thus says the Lord: "Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work, declares the Lord, and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future, declares the Lord, and your children shall come back to their own country."
So what's going on here? Yes, Israel is suffering. But that suffering, in the end, leads to deliverance and rejoicing. The weeping will end. And maybe that's why Matthew quotes this passage. Yes, when Herod slaughtered the children of Bethlehem, the people suffered. And yet, deliverance was at hand, namely in that child that had been smuggled to Egypt. In fact, deliverance would perhaps come through suffering. Matthew 2, then, more than a simple "prophecy-and-fulfillment." It's a theological statement about the nature of this child that had been born. Deliverance was coming in Jesus.

For a second example, you could look at Matthew 4:12-17. Here Jesus goes to Galilee and begins to preach "int eh territory of Zebulun and Naphtali." Matthew quotes a couple verses from Isaiah 9: "The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles--the people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light, and for those dwelling int he region and shadow of death, on them a light has dawned."

Is this just a simple prophecy that the Messiah would preach in Galilee? Perhaps, but it could be something bigger than that. Isaiah 9 is very much a kingdom-centered passage. While Matthew only quotes the first two verses, just a little farther down the page you find this:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. (Isa. 9:6-7)
 Isaiah 9 (from which Matthew takes the words about Zebulun and Naphtali) is about God's reign being exercised through this child to be born. It's a kingdom passage. And, if you look at Matthew 4, you see that it too is a kingdom passage. What is it that Jesus is preaching in Galilee? "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matt. 4:17). He then begins to call disciples to follow him. (Gathering a people to himself? Sounds like a very kingly thing to do). He also travels throughout Galilee, "teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction among the people." Finally, Jesus gets up on a mountain and delivers what you might call a "Kingdom Manifesto" (Matt. 5-7).

The kingdom theme present in Isaiah 9 may also explain why Matthew structures the account of Jesus' temptations the way he does in 4:1-11. Both Matthew and Luke include this account, though they present the three temptations in a different order. In Luke, the order is: (1) stone to bread, (2) worshipping Satan and gaining the kingdoms of the world, and (3) throwing himself off the temple. For Matthew, however, the order is: (1) stone to bread, (2) throwing himself off the temple, and (3) worshipping Satan and gaining the kingdoms of the world.

Why the difference? Maybe Matthew purposely put Satan's offer of the kingdoms of the world last, as this leads directly into 4:12-17. Jesus refuses Satan's methods for kingship, but he is stilling bringing the kingdom. (He is, after all, the Prince of Peace, with the government on his shoulders, who sits on David's throne, right Isaiah?) He preaches the nearness of the true kingdom, calls followers to himself as he begins to constitute the people of that kingdom, and heals the sick as a sign of the kingdom's coming.

It seems, then, that Matthew's use of Isaiah 9:1-2 is about more than the fact the Messiah would preach in Galilee. It's a rather profound statement that the king had come. His kingdom isn't by Satan's methods, but rather God's. And again, the context of the Old Testament fills all of this out.

If you're anything like me, it's easy to skip over those pesky footnotes. But I'm learning to go back and look them up, because I believe that will help me get into the mind of the New Testament author just a little bit more. I would encourage you to try it out as well!

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Salt and Light



I wonder if my blog feels like Lucille Bluth today. Why, you ask?

Because yesterday, July 2nd, was my blog's 5th Blogiversary! And unlike the previous four such occasions, I failed to write a new post to celebrate. I could say that I was distracted by Homer Bailey throwing his second no-hitter for the Reds in less than a year, but that didn't happen until after 10 p.m., so that excuse might not hold up under scrutiny.

In any case, Happy Blogiversary.

Now with all that self-glorification out of the way...

This morning I read Matthew 5:13-16, which is a passage that I have read a hundred times before, but that especially struck me today. Here's what it says:
You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet.
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all int he house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.
The word "relevant" has become somewhat of a catchword among modern-day Christians. Churches want to be "relevant." Individual believers want to be "relevant." Blogs want to be "relevant."

Relevance is not a bad goal, of course. It may me necessary, in fact, if the church is to fulfill its mission to the world. But as I hear conversations on the topic, I wonder if many have an incomplete picture of what such relevance actually means. It seems that to many, relevance merely means swallowing down whatever pop-cultural phenomena might be in vogue at the time, and then patting themselves on the back for being so culturally sophisticated.

"Yeah, I watch HBO and listen to Imagine Dragons and only shop at the all-natural food store. I'm so relevant."

Fine.

What I believe can happen, though, is that this incomplete understanding of relevance only results in a Christian who looks just like anyone else, but who also happens to believe in Jesus. I want to be relevant, so I'll listen to the same music as everyone else, dress the same as everyone else, speak the same as everyone else, and essentially blend in with everyone else. There is really nothing to distinguish a follower of Christ from any other Joe on the street.

The intentions are good. After all, we are to be the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world. This signifies some level of cultural engagement. As salt and light, we are to be present in the world--even the unbelieving world--the surrounds us.

But from Jesus' words in Matthew 5, his followers are also to be distinct. They should stand out. They are described as salt, and salt is a distinct flavor. Case in point: a while back there were some snacks out at school for everyone to enjoy, and I stuffed a handful of potato chips in my mouth, believing they were original flavored. I soon realized they were actually salt n' vinegar, and I thought I may keel over and die on the spot.

Jesus' followers are also described as light, and light is certainly distinct. It doesn't blend in with the darkness at all. It shines out. When I was in high school, I was driving from Arizona to Kansas with my sister. We were going through New Mexico after the sun had gone down, and as I looked out the passenger-side window, I could see none of the desert in the darkness. But then we came over a rise in the road, and there, miles ahead of us, was the city of Albuquerque--it's thousands of lights shooting into the blackness with intensity.

To be salt and light, then, certainly cannot mean to be "relevant" in the sense described above. Such an idea is a shallow understanding of what relevance truly is.

On the other hand, many Christians, in an effort to truly be salt and light, assume that Jesus' words mean to have nothing to do with "unchristian culture." Such a person might only listen to Christian radio stations, watch Christian movies, where Christian t-shirts, and use Christian language like "Blessed" and "Lift up." At the end of the day, they go to bed satisfied with having been such a countercultural force in the world.

I have nothing against Christian music or t-shirts. But if this is the extent of our "saltiness," I think we're still missing the point. You can look a lot different from unbelievers on the outside but still be a lot like them on the inside. And I don't know that the number of Max Lucado books on our shelves or the number of fish on our back bumpers--as good as these things are--are going to be what changes the world.

So what does it mean to be salt and light? Maybe it means what Jesus had just been talking about in his sermon in Matthew 5. Maybe it means being merciful, peace-making, pure, and meek. Maybe it even means suffering for the sake of belonging to Christ.

And maybe living like that is the most relevant thing we can do.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Fruit of Obedience

For the past couple weeks, I have been preaching a sermon series from the book of Proverbs. Each week we have been looking at a theme that runs throughout the book and asking, "What does it look like to live wisely in this area of my life?" This morning the topic was family, and in my preparation for the message I realized that Proverbs has a lot to say about family.

One passage that I took a look at this week is Proverbs 5:15-18, where the reader is told to "rejoice in the wife of your youth." In his commentary on the passage, Tremper Longman III pointed out that this passage comes in a chapter that is full of warnings against the "forbidden woman." In the context surrounding the passage, you find repeated admonitions to stay away from the adulteress. But verses 15-18 are the flip side of that coin. Longman explained that the best way to avoid adultery and immorality is to foster a strong and positive relationship with your own spouse.

I found Longman's statement both insightful and true. A married person could walk the streets focused on what he or she shouldn't be doing. Stay away from the adulteress! Or, he could focus on having a solid relationship with his spouse. More than anything else, that may be the most effective defense against temptation.

I think that this principle can be expanded beyond the physical marriage relationship. It also applies to one's relationship with God. I often find myself so focused on resisting sin and fighting temptation. Be sure to avoid this bad thing, and that bad thing, and even that bad thing way over there. I have a list of rules in my head, and I worry about being sure to follow every rule on that list.

To be sure, obedience is important. God gives his people certain commands, and our response ought to be to obey them. But perhaps a more important thing than avoiding all of the sins is to develop a stronger relationship with God. Perhaps that, more than anything else, will produce obedience in our lives. Perhaps that's the center of a holy life.

Maybe that's why the New Testament talks so much about "fruit."
Every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. (Matt. 7:17)
But the fruit of the Spirit is.... (Gal. 5:22)
For the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true. (Eph. 5:9)
Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit. (Jn. 15:5)
The person who is connected to Christ, who is filled with the Spirit, who is in relationship with God--this person bears the fruit of obedience. Holiness, then, isn't so much about being sure to check off every command on a list in your pocket. It's about abiding in Christ, because obedience then comes as a natural byproduct, just as an apple is a natural byproduct of a branch connected to an apple tree.

My hope is that, in the pursuit of a holy life, I don't leave God behind. That can happen, I think. We become so concerned with doing the right things and avoiding the wrong things, that we forget to foster a relationship with God. But that never works. Only God is holy, and we are holy insofar as we allow ourselves to be filled and led by his Spirit. As Paul told the Galatians, "Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh" (Gal. 5:16).

It sounds so much simpler than trying to follow a checklist. But it can be very difficult, because we like checklists. Being Spirit-filled...it seems so mystical. So mysterious. So uncontrollable.

And yet, so fruitful.