Charis

I took Zachary to see Amazing Grace yesterday afternoon–wow! I was deeply moved, challenged, and encouraged. I had heard of Wilberforce through my studies of British literature, but I didn’t know much about him. It was exciting to see a man of faith and conviction portrayed as a hero—and he should be, because he did something profound. I also appreciated the opportunity to learn more about Olaudah Equiano, the former slave; I’ve read and taught parts of Equiano’s autobiography in my American literature courses, but I was not aware of the extent of his involvement in the anti-slavery movement in England.

I’ve wanted to see the film since it opened, and I wanted to take Zack, but he was not particularly interested, and I hadn’t found a good time to go. As usual, though, the timing was perfect, and I can see that the Holy Spirit had a hand in it. I had just finished reading about having a vision for one’s life in Live Your Calling, which Teddie and I are using in a small group we attend this semester, and Amazing Grace shows vision and calling in action in a spectacular way. It is good to be reminded that one person can change the world—though I’m mindful that Wilberforce didn’t work alone, and the film makes that clear. He was surrounded by those who shared his vision and labored with him. Still, it was his persistence and determination—dogged determination is more apt—that bore fruit.

Amazing Grace is just the sort of film that I want my children exposed to: I want Zack to see the power of vision and passion, to see the legacy that a man of conviction can leave, and so to stir his vision for what he can do. I know it did that for me.

You can learn more about the film and Wilberforce at the official site for the film.

Two nights ago, as I waited for my water to boil, I read the Celestial Seasonings Peppermint Tea box (the boxes always have a variety of quotes, and this one was new). On the back was a list from Life’s Little Instruction Book, Vol II. The first instruction pricked my heart:

Pay as much attention to the things that are working positively in your life as you do to those that are giving you trouble.

I realized that for the past week or so (probably much longer), I’ve been focused solely on problems, faults, and sins.

Last night my friend Jeff shed some light on this. He pointed out that what set the Pharisees apart was their detailed analysis of sin. They took God’s laws and made them much bigger and more complex. They made the law a burden. In contrast, Jesus said, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus also said that He came that we “may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows).” As Jeff put it, Jesus was passionate about life. What, then, moved the Pharisees? They were passionate about sin.

I had never thought about it that way, but that’s really what legalism is: a passion for sin. Cataloging it, analyzing it, checking if off: yes, they may be avoiding it, but it still seems to consume them. Consider two men dealing with lust. One indulges, doing exactly what he wants. And he undoubtedly has negative consequences, though they might not be immediately apparent (sin, after all, always produces death). The other, because he goes to church, knows that lust is wrong, and so he constantly monitors his thoughts, his eyes—it’s everywhere for him because he’s always conscious of it. He’s not slept around, but is he any better off? The church-goer probably has lust on his brain as much as the other guy—and he is likey less happy. Why? Because sin always produces death, whether you’re focused on doing it or focused on avoiding it. As Pastor Chris says, church people are some of the meanest people he knows because they spend all their time avoiding stuff they really want to do.

Legalism says, “spend your life not doing.” That’s a hard way to live. I can see the evidence of this in my own life in many areas. Take food. When I’m at home, I seem to eat every couple of hours. Food is readily available, and I have to constantly monitor what I’m eating and tell myself “No, you can’t have that yet” or “You can have just one.” On campus the other day, I realized that it had been many hours since I had eaten, and food hadn’t crossed my mind. Why? Because I was focused on doing instead of not doing. As I reflect on when I’m most likely to eat unnecessarily at home, it’s when I’m bored or unsure of what to do next. At work, I’m focused: I have a clear list of goals to achieve in the time I’m there. There’s no boredom.

Similarly, I find that my legalistic tendencies are less of a problem when I’m actively focused on doing what I’m called to do. When I’m writing and teaching or thinking about my writing and teaching, I’m consumed with what brings life to me. I don’t have time to think about sin, let alone be consumed by it. And because my focus is on life, there’s no need for checklists, monitoring, and analysis. This means, then, that the solution to sin is really pretty easy. Choose to do those things that bring you life. Consider Jesus’ words again: He came to bring us life

• in abundance
• to the full
• till it overflows

If I’m filled with life—so full that it overflows—-where’s the room for sin? I’m giving up my passion for sin. What about you?

I started reading Anne Graham Lotz’s I Saw the Lord a few days ago. Lotz uses the word revival to describe what she hopes to inspire; I would use the word passion. She makes an interesting point that Isaiah preached before his famed encounter with God in chapter 6, but he became passionate after seeing the Lord on His throne. As a modern counterpart to Isaiah, Lotz offers the story of Carole, whose already good life was transformed by a new vision of God and the resulting new perspective on herself. Carole states,

Revival, for me, isn’t about leaving behind what the world has to offer. It’s about leaving behind sin so that I can embrace the richer life the Lord has to offer.

What a wonderful, life-giving approach! I grew up in a denomination defined by don’t: don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t dance, don’t do what other churches do, don’t, don’t, don’t. Such a perspective leads to, among other things, a sense of loss, of missing out. It’s all about the negatives. I suspect for many, salvation is about loss: let me leave behind my friends, my fun, my pleasure so I can go to church and be safe—I mean saved.

Certainly, Jesus does call us to leave some things behind, and loss is involved in the life of the disciple. “Take up your cross daily” is about sacrifice. Jesus tells us to not look back, to leave family and houses and fields behind. But what often gets left out of that teaching is what Jesus also says:

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age…” (Mark 10:29–30)

That’s why Carole’s statement is so refreshing: she flips it around and says “look at what I get!” The don’t approach implies that we’re giving up fun and pleasure. The life-giving approach reminds us that we’re leaving behind sin—the thing that was killing us—and embracing life, the thing we really want.

So, what are you leaving behind?