Of gifts and the Giver...

"If we only trust Christ to give us gifts and not himself as the all-satisfying gift, then we do not trust him in a way that honors him as our treasure. We simply honor the gifts. They are what we really want, not him. So biblical faith in Jesus must mean that we trust him to give us what we need most - namely himself. That means that faith itself must include at its essence a treasuring of Christ above all things."
John Piper, Don't Waste Your Life. (Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway Books, 2003) p. 70

Where is Christ in your faith? I love this excerpt because it highlights the selfish tendencies in our relationships - we gravitate towards relating to people in regards of what they can do and/or provide for us. Of course, we don't always relate in this manner - but we have a selfish tendency to do so. And this is magnified in our relationship with Christ because here is one we are to relate to, yet we cannot see him or touch him physically. So, many times, we come to relate to God, to Christ, in the only way we can see him - by what he does.

This is the foundation of sand upon which all theology centered around the blessing of God is based: That our relationship with God is evidenced by what he does for us, which is directly affected by what we do or how we live. I like to call this the "Genie in a bottle" faith: a fantasy in which God is one whom, if we rub just the right way, will pop out and do what we want or give us what we desire.

Look at Matthew 10:38 and 16:24. Or Mark 8:34, or Luke 9:23. What does Christ say you must do to follow him? Put a shoulder to the cross, lift, and begin walking. Even when he was talking with the rich man in Mark 10, he finishes his statement in verse 21 with the phrase "...take up the cross and follow me." If Christianity is supposed to be centered around such a wonderful thing as living a beautifully blessed life daily, then why was it's climaxing moment that of the brutal, nightmarish agony of the cross?

Are there blessings in Christ? Yes, absolutely. But they are blessings which reflect riches as sand and dirt, which turn poverty into generosity, which takea death meant for me and gives life in return. And these blessings are never the point, the purpose to life in Christ. Rather, they are an outflow, a natural result of the most natural phenomenom: our dying. For us to truly treasure Christ we must first lay aside ourselves. For it has never been about us, it has always been about God.

Christianity will be the death of me. At least, I pray it will be so. Because my treasure must be Christ himself, nothing else. And the more I die to myself, the more he can live in me and be known through me.

So is my faith in Christ based on what he can do for me? Never, yet it has been bolstered by what he has done for me and what I've seen him do for others. Do I believe so that I will be blessed as others have, so that I will prosper? No, for then I have lost sight of the Giver amongst his gifts.

Let me have Christ alone, treasure Christ alone. And let me never lose sight of the Giver as I marvel at his gifts.