by Ryan Smith | May 2, 2016
“Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16).
I’ve heard this verse since I was a wee tot. I memorized it in Sunday School, was prodded with it in several awkward teenage small groups, and have used it as a banner over many men’s accountability groups and Bible studies.
Under the counsel of this verse, I have had many, “Hi, my name is Ryan and I’m a ____________” moments. But recently, as I’ve been evaluating and thinking back on my journey with Christ, I have begun to wonder if this verse alone is incomplete.
Maybe you have felt the same tension.
A group of men sit in a circle as the leader gets to the real heart of virtually every men’s meeting: “Okay, guys, how many of you have lusted or looked at porn this week?” The eyes go down and the hands go up. Mission accomplished. See you next week.
The over-creamed coffee and scones sit between two godly people with their Bibles open, arms folded, and inward leaning posture conveying utmost interest and engagement. Their hearts are opened, and all of their demons are pulled out of the bag and put on display. They have vocalized their “struggles.” Mission accomplished. See you next week.
While I’ve found in my own life I’m often okay with exposing my demons, I also seem to be okay with putting them back safely in the bag. As a Christian living in community, it is (sometimes) easy for me to confess sin and point to my own shortcomings and depravity. In some ways, it even gives me pride.
Look at me. Look at the good Christian who is aware of his sin.
His hands are raised, his demons are on the table, and his heart is open.
What a man of God…
But is that the full response to sin in the life of a Christian? Is it the sum total of Christian accountability? Is confession all that God requires?
Often my confession of sin is an easy way to pacify community while Christ is calling for much more.
I don’t mean to downplay confession. It is good. It is right. It is necessary in the life of the believer as they submit to God. At the heart of our sin stands the vile idol of self and pride. In order to expose that idol for what it is, it must be displayed in truth. It must be exposed. It must be confessed.
But we must not see confession as an end in itself. Confession is a means. It is an initial step of repentance. Don’t compromise the journey of repentance by stopping at the first step of confession.
Confession can expose a contrite spirit and humble heart. But it can also be a Band-Aid of an acknowledged symptom when truly surgery is needed on the heart.
What James wants us to do when he tells us to confess our sins to one another is to provide a transparency with God, ourselves, and the church. But James also wants to remind us that confession is not the end result. He says, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe-and shudder!” (James 2:19). I think James would agree – you think your pride, greed, lust, idolatry is sin? Good. The demons know it is sin and rejoice. The question isn’t how you identify it, but what you do with it once it is identified.
I think this is why Jesus’ call continually throughout the Gospels is not just to confess sin, but to turn from it. Repent of it. Nail it to a cross. Walk the other way. Leave it behind and don’t look back. There is a greater joy before you.
His reprimand for the churches in Revelation is not that they haven’t identified strongholds, struggles, and sin in their lives, but that they have not turned from them. They are not marked by a holiness that God desires and requires.
If you want to spur one another on towards Christlikeness as empowered by the Spirit, by all means confess to one another. Confess to God. But let our community and accountability be defined not by what we point at together, but what we wrestle with together – where we lock arms and step into the blazing fire of sanctification.
Identify the enemy, but put on your helmet and grab your sword.
Confess – yes. But also repent for the kingdom of heaven is near.
by Ryan Smith | Apr 25, 2016
I was saved when I was only eight years old. This is not a boast. If anything, it causes a bit of a concern.
While I am immeasurably grateful for my salvation in Jesus Christ and fully cognizant of the fact that He has saved me from pain, scars, and dangerous pathways unknown to me, I can’t help but feel at times that there is a part of my story missing. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better for me to have been saved later in life.
Let me say, this isn’t one of these conversations:
Me: “Why don’t I have a cool testimony like a drug dealer?”
You: “But a testimony of God’s faithfulness from a young age is a cool testimony.”
Me: “Wow…I never thought of that before. Thanks! (high-fives)”(scene)
This isn’t one of those. This also, I pray, is not a slight at those who were saved later in life. This is simply a reflection on my own journey.
This is a confession that as I sing the great truths of the faith and celebrate the Gospel of salvation from death in sin and hopelessness apart from Christ, an emptiness rattles in my chest of a deep knowledge that my pre-Christ hell-bound race was run in Ninja Turtle Velcro low-tops.
While I assure you, I was dead in my sin even as an elementary-age kid and I still struggle with my sin today, the timeline in my mind doesn’t have a big line through it of before and after. It simply emerges into memory as one already united with Christ.
Was I saved too young to really appreciate it? How can I declare the truths of the depraved hell-bound son of Adam in me when I barely have any recollections of that person and time? How can I appreciate the cross and the crucifixion of the old man when he was so young?
Having a young son has put this in perspective for me. My son is three years old. I love him as a father and would give my life to protect him. I fear for his safety and try to equip him with knowledge and understanding about harmful people and the dangers of unknowingly listening to those who would lead him on dark paths. He is so fragile in this world – so alone.
Yet when he came into this world, he was not alone. Before he could even walk, there with him stood his sinful man. This is his sin-nature handed down through Adam. It is his default. It is his true nature and self apart from Christ.
This man stands next to my son day and night. He rises with him in the morning. He echoes his every step during the day. He sleeps with him at night – whispering blasphemies and drawing him deeper into a perilous world apart from God.
Where this man would lead my son, only hell itself could imagine. While I cannot see him or hear his whispered words, he is just as real a companion to my son as I am myself. He wants to destroy my son. I hate this man.
Still, the same sinful man stood next to me from the womb. He hated me but whispered such words of desire and intrigue. He would have continued with me step for step until he laughed over my grave – exalting in the pain, loss, injury and sin he had convinced me would lead to my happiness. He would have held me by the hand as a child and walked me through worldly pleasures, warping my worldview to see fool’s gold as treasure and the truth of the Gospel as nonsense.
But God…
God intervened and confronted this man at the side of a naïve eight-year-old child. He not only confronted him, he grabbed him, dragged him, held him down and plunged nails into his wrists. He placed nails in his feet, stabbed him through with a spear, thrust a crown of thorns on the fileting scalp and bone of his forehead. He crucified this sinful man with himself and as a child, took my hand and filled it with that of His Spirit. The Spirit would now be my guide. The Spirit would now whisper words of truth. The Spirit would lead away from the wide path toward hell and destruction and walk with me down the narrow path that leads to eternal life. The Spirit would save me and declare truths to me through the Scripture and make it sweet.
For those of us who were saved young, we may not remember this natural man, but we feel him continually shaking and pulling away from the nails on that cross. We may hear his words and his cries for life, but we also have the knowledge that his end is secured.
Christ intervened.
As I think of my young son and envision any man coming alongside him with ill intent, my blood boils. When I think of this spiritual reality, my knees shake, and I pray to God in heaven through Christ that He will intervene and remove this man from my son. I pray He will do it soon. I pray my son will have no recollection of ever having walked under this sinful man’s direction and will not remember his face in his dreams. I pray God will save him young. And then I realize that’s what He did in his grace for me.
Envisioning this spiritual truth and scenario in the life of my son helps me appreciate God’s intervention in my own life at such a young age. It helps me consider the man I was saved from and the Man I was saved by. Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ that we were not left to battle this man alone. Thanks be to God for His intervention to save sinners. Thanks be to God that His death on the cross was our death on the cross and His life in the Spirit is now given to us.
“For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ” (Rom. 5:17).
by Ryan Smith | Mar 29, 2016
You can’t escape it. The level of tension hanging in our air is creating a stifling sauna of emotion. The flaming rhetoric is coming from every single outlet giving anyone a voice or stage. It’s all over the news. It permeates our Twitter feed. We can even feel it in our own veins: America is angry.
So why are Americans so angry?
If you ask Republicans, it’s the Democrats. If you ask Democrats, it’s the Republicans. If you ask parents, it’s kids. If you ask kids, it’s parents, etc. Ultimately, it’s everyone but us and those who think like we do.
I don’t believe America’s anger issue at its core is a political one. I don’t even believe it’s the fault of the media or entertainment industry. Politics and entertainment tend to follow the prevailing winds of society. Instead, I believe the source of America’s anger comes from two formidable worldviews that have woven themselves into the very fabric of what it means to be a person living in America.
At the core of America’s anger problem, I believe, rests the bedfellow notions of Individualism and Entitlement.
Individualism is the belief that the paramount filter through which we should make decisions and priorities is the question of what is best for us individually. What’s in it for me? What I feel and what I want should be the guiding forces and principles in my life above what is better for others. It is my right to choose and I have to do what is right for me.
Even undergirding the vocal calls for freedom of choice and expression for many is the desire to simply prop up the Asherah pole of individualism so we may be free to worship at its altar unhindered as well.
The second belief is that of Entitlement. It stems, I believe, from a perversion of the idealistic American Dream we have so often laid out as the red carpet of life for every individual. Every one of us was likely told when we were young that whatever we could dream, we could be. The idea was that, in America, everyone has an escalator to the top, and all you have to do is name the destination. However, life quickly teaches us it’s not as easy as “dream it and be it.” No one should be stifled from achievement if they are willing to do the hard work of achieving. But this is not what entitlement teaches. It teaches that you deserve the achievement without the achieving.
For many trying to negotiate these roads, there is a desire to build a straw man and blame him for thwarting their road to the top. Some call him government. Some call him God. Some call him other names, but to each, the cry is the same: You cost me something, and I want it back now.
In America today, these two philosophies combine like baking soda and vinegar, and the explosion is getting messy. After all, the idea of individualism naturally flows from entitlement, but the well runs dry when everyone else around us has the same idea we have been touting as truth. Many people want independence; they just want someone else to hand it to them. When they don’t, they get upset.
Americans are angry because, in many ways, we have replaced our place in the American Dream with America’s place in our dream. And when America (or the government, God, etc.) won’t play that role in our dream, the response is anger, violence, revenge and the desire for recompense.
Interestingly enough, this isn’t the fault of America or an idealism that simply outpaces realism. The basis for this epidemic in our great nation is the same basis that has eroded and destroyed many great nations before us. In fact, the basis for this isn’t even a national issue it all. It’s both a personal issue and a global epidemic. It is sin. America’s greatest problem is not a political issue – it is a Gospel issue.
When Satan first tempted Adam and Eve, he did so on the basis of Individualism and Entitlement. “God is holding out on you. You’re not getting what you deserve,” slithered out of the serpent’s mouth wrapped around the venomous call to place the individual at the center of existence and not God.
The very idea of the Gospel and God becoming flesh is counter-intuitive for most of the world because this flies in the face of our understanding of how the world should work. Let us remember that the kingdom of God is not one of individualism and entitlement. Rather it is one of submission and grace. It is recognizing there is One who is more deserving than ourselves, and we honor and imitate him by treating others as more important than ourselves. We give our time, resources and energy not through the filter of what benefits me, but what honors Him?
We see that the only thing we are truly entitled to is the penalty of eternal death and judgment for our continual cosmic treason against the Creator of all things. Yet in His love and for His glory, He gives us not what we deserve, but what Christ Himself earned on our behalf.
Let us not just sing about these truths on Sunday morning but seek to live them out daily as we follow Christ. As we walk into a world that touts entitlement and individualism, let us do so with a cross on our back and foot-washing cloths in our hands.
Perhaps in doing so, we will see the anger so apparent in our nation dissolve into appreciation for the Gospel. Instead of individual rights or privileges, let us model the idea of what is best for all at the expense of ourselves. As we do so, let us not point it to a rebuilding of the American Dream, but to the timeless truth of the Gospel in the sacrificial nature of Jesus Christ.
by Ryan Smith | Mar 14, 2016
Donald Trump has rocketed into the political atmosphere, sending shockwaves across not only the Republican Party, but across a nation, looking for a political identity, and a watching world wondering what America’s role in an increasingly volatile world will be.
In recent history, no candidate has been as polarizing as Donald Trump. For the increasing and hardening number of blogs, articles, rallies and vocalized concern against him, Mr. Trump’s numbers continually rise, and his delegate count is on course to grab the Republican nomination.
According to the data, the meteor that is Donald Trump’s candidacy is not going to flame out in a trail of vapor as many assumed. Rather, it is very likely going to hit earth.
And what will be the fallout?
That is a question many Republicans are beginning to seriously consider. As every candidate has voiced, this is an extremely pivotal election not only for Americans, but for the direction of the free world.
Donald Trump is a brazen man with limited expertise, a firecracker mouth with a very short fuse, and someone who has lived the majority of his life in a world few Americans can relate to. He is politically incorrect, perceptively shady, and many Americans are loving it. For all his lack of “presidential qualities,” there is no arguing with the fact that he has been “successful” in business and in his somewhat narrow field of life experience.
After all, if a nation is drowning in debt, plagued with poverty, and had its reputation as a world power diminished to the role of a perceived world life coach, then why not get the biggest mouth with the most money and the hardest fist in the position where that mouth will be heard, the money will be spent, and the fist will fall?
At this point, I want to be clear and step back from the land mines I can already hear clicking around this blog. I did not vote for Donald Trump. I have grave concerns about a Trump presidency. While he has amassed great wealth, I have concern over his methods and how they might transfer to the governmental sector. He has been a financial winner. He wants America to win. He will win at all costs. But can America afford those costs?
My purpose in writing is not to persuade or dissuade you regarding a particular candidate, but to acknowledge the questions many are beginning to ask: what if and what now?
Granted, this could be a moot point and someone else could win the Republican nomination. But at this point, it seems we must face the possibility that for many conservatives, our representative on the grandest scale may not represent our beliefs, convictions, or even our view of America.
What, then, are we to do with Donald Trump?
While I wrestle with this as I write, I believe the answer is simple: pray for him.
Even as I look at those words, I feel a slight twinge. It seems too trite. It’s a scapegoat, a dismissal of responsibility. However, I acknowledge this twinge is not because of a deficiency in the power of an Almighty God to whom we pray, but in my small-sighted and prideful notion that I can accomplish more in my own efforts than simply laying concern at the feet of the One who holds all things in his hand.
If I trust that God is sovereign over salvation and the Creator of the very dust we call our land, certainly I can trust him with this. Romans 13 is clear, and God’s sovereignty over our nation and its leaders is not subject to a ballot box. But still, my feelings in this regard are revealing in me not so much a conviction of policy, but a disbelief in the strength of prayer to God.
I should pray for Donald Trump regardless of whether or not he gains public office. Above all, I should pray for his salvation, sanctification, and submission to the leading of the Holy Spirit. I should recognize God’s sovereignty over this election and the world climate. I should be active in doing my part. I should vote and encourage those who carry the burden of leadership with my voice, presence, and prayers. Where I see corruption or those without voices being drowned out by the noise, I am to bring light and give voice to the defenseless for the sake of the Gospel. This is not because I want to be a good American per se, but because I want to trust the Bible as I live in the time and place God has determined.
Nothing supersedes my commitment to Christ and my obligation to care for the poor, pray for the persecuted, and vehemently strive for the Gospel, regardless of what governmental entity or person is above me. Should that authority ask me to step outside the bounds of the Holy Spirit-inspired Scripture, I will continue to pray as I submit to the Higher Authority whose Kingship is higher than my citizenship.
We have a Kingdom and a King. Glory to God for the solid rock upon which our hope is secure and the Gospel is never shifting. While on earth, we will debate and speculate. Ten thousand years from now, there will be no debate – only worship and adoration of a God who has made all things new.
Until then, regardless of election results, let us pray for Donald Trump.
by Ryan Smith | Feb 29, 2016
We’ve all been there. Something happens. The unexpected becomes reality. The questions of life come knocking at our door, demanding immediate attention, and we don’t know what to do.
“How could God allow this? Why did this happen to me? What am I going to do now?”
Whether we have been on the receiving end of tragedy or been one attempting to show sympathy and support, we know there is that moment when words simply fail us. I have been in situations where I feel like I didn’t say enough. I have been in just as many situations where I feel I said too much.
Words are important. We use words as tools to communicate our emotions or to convey a specific idea or picture we are seeing in our minds in order that it may be shared by others. However, sometimes our ideas or emotions fall short of the words available to express them. Words are ill-equipped to carry the full weight of burden we need them to. Sometimes words fail us.
For some of us, our tendency is to avoid these situations. We observe those who grieve, mourn, or even have anger against the Gospel and we have a moment of pause. Is it worth it to engage? How would I engage? Wouldn’t my involvement just make matters worse?
We don’t want to risk doing more damage, being too present, or not present enough. If we don’t have the answer, we tend to avoid the situation. It’s just easier that way.
For others of us, the pendulum swings the opposite way. We are quick to run into relational and emotional fire. We want to fix it. We want to make it right. We want to draw every drop of emotion out of the person and use it to put out the painful fire surrounding them. In essence, we often run to a situation that is not in our capacity to mend. Not every situation can be fixed. Not every word helps.
I want to offer three suggestions for what to say in that moment when words fail you. These seem like the most unlikely or unhelpful conclusions. However, I can tell you from experience, though these are minimal and insufficient, they often carry the most weight.
Here are three things to say when words fail you:
1) I’m Sorry. It is important to communicate not simply that we are sorry for the person, but we are sorry with the person. While we may never be able to relate experientially with a certain circumstance, we all feel the pain and sorrow of a broken world. We all are going to experience sin and destruction of a world that spurns God as King. Ultimately, in Christ, it does not end for us with sorrow. But until then, simply coming alongside is the best way to help. Weep with those who weep.
2) I don’t know. I can’t tell you how many theological arguments spurred by pain or emotion could have been avoided in my life if I was simply humble enough to say, I don’t know. Allowing ourselves to say I don’t know allows us to recognize to ourselves and the other person that we are not God. In God’s grace, He has given us His Word and His Spirit as a guide. They are true, and we embrace them as such. However, sometimes there are simply questions of which we don’t have answers. Sometimes all we can do is fall at the feet of a loving God and trust that He is sovereign, He is right, and He is good. When someone comes to you as God’s representative and lays a burden down at your feet, feel free to lift it up to God’s. “I don’t know, but I believe God does and He is good.”
3) Nothing. This is perhaps the hardest thing to say when words fail you. But in these times, remember, it’s not about you. It’s about God and the other person. You don’t have to have the answer. You don’t have to have the right word. Sometimes your presence (or even your absence) for a short time can be all the difference. When someone is sharing a deep wound with you, take it in with your ears before ever using your mouth.
This list is obviously not exhaustive and won’t work in every situation. But it is a start. Remember, words will often fail us, ultimately to remind us we aren’t God. We haven’t figured it all out. We are broken in a world beyond our fig coverings and best intentions. The only solution is the Gospel. Only God can repair all things. He has done so through the cross of Christ. He is doing so through the Spirit. One day, He will fully do so and make all things new.