I discovered something very interesting while reading the book of John. I got to the part when Jesus has risen from the dead and encounters Mary Magdalene outside the tomb. He tells her,

"Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'" (John 20:17, emphasis added)

I was struck by that last phrase. It seems such an odd and emphatic way of putting things. It was as if Jesus wants us to notice something.

I couldn't remember Jesus using the phrase "your Father" or "your God" anywhere else in John, so I did a search to find out. He'd just had an extended discussion with the disciples about his relationship to the Father, their relationship to the Father, and their (and our) relationship to him (chapters 13-16). That would have been the perfect time to say it, but he always says "My Father" or "the Father" throughout the whole of rest of the book.

It's not that he doesn't talk about the subject. Jesus has a lot to say about the Father. He came from the Father, he is going to the Father, he does the works of the Father, he speaks the words of the Father. His relationship with his Father is integral to the book of John.

But it isn't until after the resurrection that he says "your Father" and "your God" to his disciples.

Two things strike me about this:

First, the death and resurrection of Jesus are what changed our relationship to God. Now, "[T]hrough him [Jesus] we...have access to the Father by one Spirit." The death and resurrection of Jesus secured a place of sonship to God for everyone who has faith in him.

Second, we now have the same kind of sonship that Jesus has. We actually have the same kind of relationship to God that he does.

That's an incredibly awesome realization.

Wow, it's been nearly a month since I've posted. How does that happen?

Partly, because I'm busy. And one of the reasons I'm busy is what I'm writing about now.

Something I've been thinking about a lot lately is love.

I want to love. I want to see people as Jesus sees them. I want to have his heart and his compassion. I want to be able to see past their outside, past the shell they put up for the world, see into their heart, and interact with them based on what's really going on. I want to minister deeply into them Jesus' love and compassion.

I want to love givingly, self-sacrificially. I want love to be not about my own needs or wants, but about serving and blessing others. I want the gift that God gives me to be used to bring healing to the hurting and the brokenhearted, just as he has done for me. I want to bring life to the dying, emotionally and spiritually speaking.

As I was praying about this the other night, and asking God to give me his love, I remembered 1 Corinthians 13. This is an overdone chapter, perhaps, but it outlines the nature of true love. I'm not going to thoroughly exposit it, whatever that means, just share some thoughts.

Paul first lists a number of things which he says are no use if we don't have love. The list looks pretty impressive, in fact, they're things that as Spirit-filled Christians we long for:

• tongues of men and angels
• gift of prophecy
• understanding all mysteries and all knowledge
• faith that can move mountains
• giving everything to the poor
• surrendering our body to be burned

Now, Paul isn't saying those things are bad things. In fact, a few verses earlier, he tells us, "eagerly desire the greater gifts." (1 Cor 12:31) So what is he saying? All the gifts in the world, the greatest miracle-working power, the most outrageous sacrifice, are of no value unless we have what is most important:

Love.

What does love look like? Thankfully, Paul outlines it for us, and I'm going to put it in list form:

• patient (doesn't demand the other person change, or meet our expectations)
• kind (always lifts up, never says a cruel word)
• doesn't envy (instead, rejoices in another's good fortune as if it were our own)
• doesn't boast (keeps quiet about itself; doesn't toot its own horn)
• is not proud (but humble)
• is not rude (is gracious, gentle)
• is not self-seeking (doesn't try to use the other person to meet our own needs, but seeks to bless them without expecting anything back)
• not easily angered (puts up with the other's faults)
• keeps no record of wrongs (forgives quickly and easily, doesn't remember or bring up past mistakes to hurt the other person)
• does not delight in evil, rejoices in the truth (I believe part of this is covering up another's faults and not gossiping about them)
• always protects (the other person)
• always trusts (the other person, as far as you can, and ultimately, God)
• always hopes (looks for the best from the person)
• always perseveres (NEVER GIVES UP!)

This is the character of true love. As we read this, it's like a measuring stick: does our love (or indeed, the love of another for us) look like this?

If not, how can it?

Well, the answer is this. This list is what Jesus looks like. This is his character, this is his heart, this is his love. So how do we get this? Simply, by Jesus living inside us. When his Spirit comes to dwell in us, he gives us his nature and his power to accomplish this. We can't do it, but he can, and he will. The answer lies in yielding to him and seeking him to give us this character of love. We must be willing to allow him to break us and to change us, surrendering completely to him so he can do his will in and through us.

It's what I want, more and more.

Lately I've been listening to the very excellent Sonship series by Pastor Barry Henning of New City Fellowship in St. Louis, Missouri (scroll down nearly to end of page, second-to-last item).

While I was listening, something clicked. A perennial Christian problem is beginning the Christian life by grace (i.e., recognizing that it's solely by an undeserved gift of God that we receive salvation and all its blessings, based completely on what Jesus has done and not anything we've merited); but then, at some point, slipping back into living by works (i.e., believing that our acceptance with God and living the Christian life depends on our own efforts at obedience).

The latest Bible book to strike me (metaphorically speaking) is Ecclesiastes. The one before that was Job, but considering that I don't have that one entirely figured out yet, I won't be blogging about it anytime soon.

I've noticed the books which tend to resonate with me are slightly more obscure Old Testament ones. Books like John or Romans or Psalms are well-traveled, but I enjoy finding the treasures in less well-known gems.

Ecclesiastes is no exception. Attach here the usual disclaimer that this is not a scholarly paper. I did enough of those in Bible college; these are just my thoughts and impressions. It's also just a brief sketch; for the full picture, read the book!

I'm rather amused by the fact that of the minor prophets, the ones I've been most struck by are the ones starting with "H". (See Hosea and Habakkuk). The last H is Haggai, and he's no exception.

Haggai prophesied to the Jews after they'd returned from exile in Babylon. The purpose of his prophecy was to encourage them to rebuild God's temple, which had lain neglected due to opposition from surrounding nations and the Israelites' lack of faith.

The Lord's message through Haggai was this:

I've been reading the minor prophets lately. Some of them speak to me more than others, mainly because they relate to the situation(s) I'm in or have been in. Particularly Hosea recently, and now Habakkuk.

These are my verbatim personal notes after reading, no references, no great scholarly comments. I recommend reading it for yourself: just 3 short chapters.

Habakkuk’s cry is the same as throughout the ages: why does evil seem to be winning? Injustice and violence are everywhere. The wicked prevail against the righteous and they are helpless. Habakkuk cries out to God, but God seems to be doing nothing.

Recently I've been amazed by the book of Hosea. It describes a principle of God's dealings that I've known to be true in my own life but never seen in the Bible so clearly.

Hosea was a prophet called to speak to God's rebellious people, Israel. Though God had brought them out of Egypt, established them in their land, and won victory after victory on their behalf, Israel constantly forsook him to worship other gods.