Beauty, not Duty

I came across a truly profound quote as I thumbed through Facebook on my iPhone this morning.

“Legalistic remorse says, ‘I broke God’s rules,’ while real repentance says, ‘I broke God’s heart.’” – Tim Keller

The reason I think this is so insightful, is because I think it strikes to the core difference between religiosity and a genuine relationship with God.

And I also think it’s what keeps millions of people alienated from God, and maybe even prevents most Christians from experiencing an indescribable freedom they don’t even know exists.

Here’s an inadequate analogy for what I’m trying to say, but I think you’ll get my point.

Say you’re a high school student trying to do all the right things, obeying all the rules, a member of all the important school clubs, with a perfect attendance for three years straight.

You know the principal there, and you’ve respected him/her for as long as you’ve known them, but have never met or spoken to them directly.

And just as things are going great, you discover there’s a rule – specifically instituted and directed by this principal – that you’ve been unknowingly breaking for quite a while.

To most, this rule isn’t a big deal, but for you, breaking this particular rule has been the very thing that’s given you the extra boost you’ve needed to rise and achieve the academic success you’re enjoying.

Since you are an excellent student, you try very hard not to break this rule – because you simply want to do the right thing – but it’s very difficult because you’ve broken this rule for so long it’s almost become second nature to you.

Each time you catch yourself breaking this rule, you get frustrated with yourself – after all, you’re trying to be a good student, right?

And then you begin to doubt whether or not you’re actually a good student, or worse, you start justifying your actions and perhaps even become perturbed by a principal who would make such a rule that seems almost impossible for you not to break.

But what if that principal was your spouse, or Grandpa for those of you who aren’t married?

Of course, the personal connection alone doesn’t change the fact that the rule exists, or that it’s still nearly impossible for you to completely kick the habit of breaking this rule.

But because there is an actual relationship between you and the “rule maker” your perception of that rule becomes different somehow.

The same thought can/should be applied to obeying God.

I think we can all agree that we ALL fall short of the glory of God.

But we are called to constantly turn away from our sinful nature, and the idea is to sin less and less as we grow and mature.

The problem is I think many people go about this maturation process in the most difficult manner – namely, on their own, by their own willpower, work ethic, etc.

Now, I’m not saying this method can’t or doesn’t work, but it’s extremely difficult for the majority of us.

You see, God doesn’t simply want you and me to be great rule followers (see: Jesus’ interaction with the Pharisees, whom were actually stellar rule/law followers).

He wants a relationship.

He wants us to confide in Him, wants us to trust Him, and most of all, He wants us to rest in Him.

So the point of that great quote above is that if you develop a relationship with Him, the rules may not change, but how we view them does.

As our relationship grows and blossoms, we will still want to do the right thing, but instead of doing it because “it’s right,” we will tend to do the right things because by not doing so harms the One we’re in a relationship with.

So, how’s that easier than simply buckling down and just resolving to do better?

That’s simple.

Because then we are no longer relying on our own strength (which is fraught with human limitations), but instead we’re able to tap into His unending supply of power through the relationship.

This, among many other things, is an eye-opening contrast between religiosity and an authentic, beautiful relationship with God.

Simply put…serving Him out of beauty is infinitely easier and more effective (long term) than serving Him out of duty.

Breaking through the Looking Glass

Glass and silver; two very simple substances that have little or nothing to do with the human body.

However, adhere one of these to the back of the other and together they create an object that has influenced the human race for centuries.

The mirror.

Some people spend way too much time in front of them, and yet others avoid them like a used car salesman, but if we’re honest, we’re all mesmerized by what we detect in our reflection.

Problem is, nearly all of us are deceived by what we see.

We either see ourselves as being much better or much worse than we really are, but in almost all cases it’s just a reflective lie.

For example, not long ago I had a conversation with a friend who confided in me that she has always struggled with loving herself as much as she knows God loves her.

To be honest, this completely shocked me because she is one of most compassionate, sincere and heartfelt people I’ve ever met in my life.

And though perhaps a little past her “prime,” unbeknownst to her, she still very much possesses a classy, mature beauty that thousands of other women stay awake at night wishing they had.

Then again, that’s the cruel trick our reflection seems to play on us all.

The fact is, our friend the mirror has a close cousin doing the real work behind the glass and reflective silver coating.

Pride.

Perhaps C.S. Lewis said it best in his classic Mere Christianity when he wrote:

“Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next (person).  It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition is gone, pride is gone.”    

To give you an idea of how profound this really is, think about how the mirror spins it web – even for those who actually like what they see looking back at them.

They usually feel great about themselves right up until the moment they are in the company of a roomful of people who are more handsome or prettier than they are.

Sadly, the unattractive feel repulsive around the average, the average feel inferior around the pretty, the pretty feel unattractive around the beautiful, the beautiful feel ugly around the gorgeous and the gorgeous feel unsightly around the stunning.

The point is, very few of us – if any of us – ever see ourselves for what we really are, but instead, just as mere comparisons to others.

But here’s the catch, one of the biggest reasons we all struggle with self-worth is because we hardly ever stop long enough to consider what’s happening when we do that.

Think about it, when we peer into the mirror, we have the benefit (or misfortune) to see ourselves along with a lifelong knowledge of all our personal insecurities, blemishes, scars, faults, imperfections, etc.

The tendency is for us to wish that if we could just change this or that about ourselves we would finally be happy, but the problem is we would still have trouble seeing past ourselves.

We would still end up comparing our inward selves with the facade of those we know relatively little about.

Don’t you see, we view others, especially the ones we really admire or “wished we were more like,” from a completely different and unfair vantage point.

We usually see them at their best, or at the very least, we rarely see them at their worst.

Now, I’m not saying we should go around assuming those people are shattered wrecks on the inside.

But the odds are these individuals have blemishes, faults and imperfections they see in the mirror too – maybe even insecurities they would be horrified over if we ever found out about them.

Now, you would think the key is to somehow convince ourselves to simply look at our reflection in a better light.

But as I pointed out earlier, even that can be just another prideful trap for us to become ensnared in.

If we want genuine freedom from our reflection, we should look at the cross instead of the mirror.

Tim Keller, a pastor and New York Times best-selling author puts it like this:

“The Christian gospel is that I am so flawed that Jesus had to die for me, yet I am so loved and valued that Jesus was glad to die for me. This leads to deep humility and deep confidence at the same time. It undermines both swaggering and sniveling. I cannot feel superior to anyone, and yet I have nothing to prove to anyone. I do not think more of myself nor less of myself. Instead, I think of myself less.”

So the next time you walk into your workplace, a classroom, a restaurant, church or wherever, and you begin to negatively compare yourself with those around you, let your mind gaze on Jesus.

Everything He did there was for you, and it had nothing to do with your waistline, hairline or complexion; had nothing to with your I.Q., career or how many zeros you have in your bank account; nothing to do with the place you live in, how white your teeth are, the people you know or how many friends/followers you have on Facebook or Twitter.

No, He came here precisely to teach, serve, suffer and die, and He did it for us – the imperfectly perfect us.

Knowing this should change the way we inwardly compare ourselves with others because each one of was intentionally and specifically hand-crafted by the very same perfect God that created the most picturesque views in the Universe.

But most of all, it is my prayer that it also drastically changes the way we look at the one who stares back at us from our reflection.

Because true freedom will only come when we’re able to look through the mirror, and instead, see Jesus gazing back at us in amazement and adoration from the other side.