From My Utmost for His Highest

Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? —Acts 26

I’ve been slowly working through The Bible miniseries with my kids and a few nights ago, we got to the Passion scene.  It’s one thing to read about it and imagine it, but then seeing it acted out...

Chambers, today, asks a few pointed questions:

     Are you determined to have your own way in living for God?

     Is the Word of God tremendously penetrating and sharp in me as I hand it on to you, or does my life betray the things I profess to teach?

Seeing soldiers beat Jesus blown up on the screen reminded me of the harsh world that Jesus walked.  It’s shocking and brutal, but no less harsh for Jesus than the world we live in today.

See, I think something hurt far worse than the lashes... 

It’s one thing to bear the punishment for all those who were pressing against the fence who were crying and wishing that there was another way. But it’s another to bear the punishment for the poulterer, too busy delivering a bird to stop and look. His indifference would have been an unspeakable blow. And I’ve been that poulterer.

Earlier this week I attended a guy’s night event.  I drank too much, ate too much and stayed too late.  I got a lot of laughs saying some things that a lover of Jesus wouldn’t say.  Looking back, I can see that I didn’t tip over the edge that night, but had been rubbing against the guard rail for a number of days—stepping away from the Word and going about my business.

In those few actions—the kind of things that friends would say, “What? You’re worried about that? Don’t worry about it.”—I determined to have my own way and betray the things I profess to teach.

In the end, the whips and nails hurt Jesus, but not as badly as I injure Him when I rise and say, “I’ll run this my way for a while.” Those soldiers didn’t know Jesus; they didn’t know what they were doing.  But I do.  I know Him and I still rebel.

So how could someone so persecute Jesus?  Each of us holds the whip in our hand.

Then why do I persecute Jesus? Because sometimes, I just can’t give up being a king.

Lord, I’m sorry. Some that read this will not understand my sin, but You do and I can see that. Not showing up to see You bear this hurts more, and yet, sometimes, I just feel like I can’t. Even in service to You, I can turn away and go about my business.  I’m sorry, and I desperately want to return. Light the way that I may return.  Amen.

I love you.

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