Sanctification

This year my New Year’s Resolution is to celebrate New Year’s at a time more conducive to change and renewal—oh say, spring instead of the dark, dead of winter when I’m just coming off the sugar high of the holidays. Somehow I think we Gregorian calendar devotees have got this one all wrong.

Historically, New Year’s Day hasn’t always fallen on January first because our calendar hasn’t been a consistent entity. Factor in a few mythological gods, Roman emperors, and a pope or two. Add a dash of Protestant Reformation and you’ll find that in the past, the New Year occurred anywhere from January 1 to March 25. (Surprisingly, it wasn’t until 1752 that England and the American colonies began celebrating New Year’s on January 1st.) That’s nothing to say of the multiple cultures that celebrate it in recognition of their own calendars.  And if you really want your head to spin, don’t forget all our dear southern hemisphere friends who experience the seasons opposite to us and whose Christmas and New Year’s celebrations include BBQs on the beach.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, in my experience, making resolutions on January 1 is a bad idea.

Because there’s nothing particularly organic about celebrating the New Year this way. For most of us, it’s simply a function of the calendar and happens primarily because we’ve reached the end of the month and need to turn the page (or in my case, glue magnets on the back of my 2012 office-sized calendar from Target and stick it to the side of the refrigerator.) Think about it—there is no seasonal change or religious celebration that would motivate us to make resolutions; it’s simply a cultural obligation. Or, in my experience, the result of the guilt from eating too much, exercising too little and overspending in the last six weeks since Thanksgiving.read more

The God of the Bible is presented without apology as a law-issuing God who expects us to be law-keeping people. God does not ask permission to assert Himself as the arbiter of human ethics (Gen. 2:15-17). He determines for His creatures the standard of right and wrong and we are duty-bound to know His commandments and honor them.

Such notions are naturally unsettling, particularly when one begins to comprehend precisely what God requires of us. I am reminded of a conversation I had with a stranger seated next to me on a commercial flight home from the east coast some years ago. I came to find out later that he had grown up in a strict Jewish family in which God’s Law to Israel was studied and honored. He was heading to Minneapolis on business and initially asked my advice on the hottest downtown night clubs. We were obviously strangers. He may as well have asked my advice on nuclear physics.

Perhaps it was my bald ignorance of the Minneapolis night club scene that piqued his curiosity, but in any event he began to probe to discover who I was. When he learned the orientation of my life as a minister of the gospel, he proceeded to poke fun at the religion he had long ago left in the dust. Along the way, he explained, he had decoded the vision of God presented in the Hebrew Scriptures. “What is the tastiest meat?” he pressed me. I hesitated. “Obviously, it’s pork,” he asserted with an air of confidence. “So what does God say? ‘No pork.’”read more

The army of an evil duke storms the castle gates of an ancient kingdom. With murderous zeal the raiders pillage and torch the city. Amidst the mayhem, the infant son of the kind and noble king is captured and transported to the duke’s castle where the boy is enslaved to the sadistic warden of the dungeon.

From his earliest memories the captive prince is abused. As time passes he knows only the life of a tortured slave whose days are spent toiling in the dank confines of the dungeon. He is denied proper food, shelter and clothing. He is never permitted to bathe. He sleeps on a thin pile of vermin-infested straw, his ankle shackled to a post.

The prisoners he attends verbally abuse him. The warden routinely flogs him and with sadistic glee poisons the boy’s mind to believe that all his troubles are directly traceable to the dominion of the king. Under these horrific conditions the prince’s soul shrivels and becomes a dark haunt breeding many vices.

Early one winter morning, the boy is startled awake by shouts of panic. The king has mounted a successful attack against the traitorous duke’s castle. After the duke’s army is subdued, all the boys of a certain age-range are lined up against a castle wall. The prince, with no idea who he really is, stands in the frigid air shaking, virtually naked, and filled with loathing for the conquering king. The boy is covered from head to toe in grime. His long hair is matted and snarled. His nails are grotesquely long, his lips cracked, his feet bleeding. He nurses infected wounds. He is emaciated and unspeakably repulsive.

Working his way down the line of boys, an armored knight eventually arrives at the prince. The knight grabs the boy’s grimy wrist and carefully inspects his forearm where is revealed a distinctive birth mark. With thunderous voice, the knight turns and announces: “Here he is, your Highness!” To the boy’s utter astonishment, the king’s soldiers immediately drop to one knee, bowing their heads toward him in homage. The regal king who watches the proceedings intently from atop his steed dismounts and swiftly approaches. The boy cowers against the wall, instinctively bracing for the worst. But to his further bewilderment, the king he so despises does not raise his hand to strike, but stands before him with open arms. Tears fill the strong man’s searching eyes. A look of tender compassion graces his rugged face such as the boy has never witnessed. Suddenly, the king embraces the boy and with a strong hand pulls the prince’s head to his chest and speaks lovingly into his ear: “I have at last found you, my dear lost son. Welcome home.”read more