It seems to me that it is a minority that ever gets the true and full Gospel—in any denomination. Most of us just keep worshiping Jesus and arguing over the right way to do it. The amazing thing is that Jesus never once says, “Worship me!” whereas he frequently says, “Follow me” (e.g., Matthew 4:19). Christianity is a lifestyle—a way of being in the world that is simple, non-violent, shared, and loving. However, we made it into an established “religion” (and all that goes with that) and avoided the lifestyle change itself. One could be warlike, greedy, racist, selfish, and vain in most of Christian history, and still believe that Jesus is one’s “personal Lord and Savior” or continue to receive Sacraments in good standing. The world has no time for such silliness anymore. The suffering on Earth is too great.
By Tullian Tchividjian
Because we are so naturally prone to look at ourselves and our performance more than we do to Christ and his performance, we need constant reminders of the gospel.
If we’re supposed to preach the gospel to ourselves everyday—what’s the actual content of that message? What is it exactly that I need to keep reminding myself of?
If God has saved you—if he’s given you the faith to believe, and you’re now a Christian; if you’ve transferred trust from your own accomplishments and abilities to Christ’saccomplishment on behalf of sinners—then here’s the good news. In the phraseology of Colossians 1, it’s simply this: You’ve already been qualified, you’ve already been delivered, you’ve already been transferred, you’ve already been redeemed, you’ve already been forgiven.
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Ah! Ah! Ah!
Transformation is from looking at Him, not at ourselves. A beautiful reminder!
Frantically, sometimes, I feel as though I scream to all the world—to anyone who will listen:
“Love me, love me, love me!”
My restlessness and propensity to ignore what I already possess sometimes drive me to a raging, violent search. In the aftermath, it is as if I am curled up on the floor, bits and pieces of my heart and identity strewn about me, lavished foolishly on conditional love. My heart closes, hardens, believing I can never be loved.
“No one will love me. I am worthless. I am too much. I am not enough.”
Misplaced love hardens the heart, and I am sure no one would ever want to love me. I wouldn’t believe them if they told me they loved me.
But there is One who cuts through time and space to get to where I am. There is One whose nail-scarred hands reach to me. The same One who allowed criminals to brutally murder Him to save me.
There is One who stayed through the torture. He stays even now, loving me. Loving you.
Nothing I do. Nothing you do. Only His love.
(Source: ever-gazing.tumblr.com )