Working w/ Cru at UNC – Raising Support

Hello family, friends, and fellow blog-subscribers,

As you might be aware, I recently graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in May with a double major in Religious Studies and Interpersonal/Organizational Communication. It was an incredible four years, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I thank God for the ability and opportunity to attend an amazing institution that hosts such a rich diversity of background, talent, intelligence, and faith. These past four years have been critically influential for me academically, socially, and spiritually. God has truly grown and shaped me through the people I have met, education I have received, organizations I have participated, and worldviews I have encountered.

In fact, one of the most formative places during my collegiate experience was Cru, a large Christian organization on campus, where I found an oasis of sorts among the normative desert of secular thought and living. UNC Chapel Hill is notoriously regarded as a dark, lost place among Christian spheres. This sentiment is true, as there is a small percentage of students at UNC Chapel Hill who are following Jesus. And that’s exactly why Cru exists like a spiritual oasis for many, including myself. There I found a rich community of mission-minded, Bible-abiding, Christ-glorifying believers who were making a difference on campus in various ways. Cru was not a Christian huddle; it was an army equipped with the gospel. unc-gray-clear2-e1398888951958UNC Chapel Hill, like many college campuses, is a unique, strategic place for the gospel. The brightest of students from all over the state, country, and world come to this university—and share life, ideas, and experiences with one another in a tight community for four years—and then are launched back into places all over the state, country, and world to make a difference. Could there be a better opportunity to reach them with the gospel? Indeed, we don’t go to them as much as they come to us. During my four years at UNC Chapel Hill, God has burdened me for these students and this place. While I will be attending Southeastern Seminary in the fall, I will be working part-time with Cru at UNC.

As someone who has been a blessing in my life and a fellow partner in the gospel, I would like to ask you–yes, you Mr./Mrs./Ms. blog-reader!–to consider supporting me for the next year, and in doing so, partner with me through Cru to reach the student body of UNC Chapel Hill for Christ. I firmly believe that one of the best investments the church can make today is by supporting ministry at the college campuses. This is the place where the rising generation is most independent, curious, and malleable—and what happens on the college campus will arguably set the trajectory for the rest of these students’ lives. Therefore, supporting Cru at UNC will financially allow us to leverage our time and resources to reach, disciple, and send them out in the name of Jesus.

If you would like to support me in this endeavor, the easiest and most convenient way to give is through Cru’s website. This link is where you can give:

Once you are on the website, click the button “Give A Gift”.  (Refer to picture-guide below). From there, you can specify the amount and frequency of your gift (single gift, monthly, quarterly, etc.). Directly under where you specify your type of donation, there is a space for adding comments. Please indicate that your specific donation “goes to the ministry of Austin Gentry as he works for Cru at UNC Chapel Hill”. This way, my director, Miles O’Neill, will be able to know how much I raised, and therefore, how many hours I will be able to work. Additionally, if you give online, please email me at to let me know how much you gave so that I can keep count of how much was specifically given in my name.




If you would rather mail me a check instead, be sure to write the check out to Cru. By mailing the check to me (home address at bottom of blog), I will be able to track how much money was given; then I will mail the check on to Cru Headquarters.

Regarding the nature and process of the donations, it is important to note that all gifts—physical checks and online giving—are tax-deductible and will be kept in a specific account for UNC’s ministry at Cru Headquarters. Cru at UNC will then pay me from that account based on my hourly work. A small percentage of your total giving, however, will be used to fund Cru’s extensive reach as an international ministry. For example, 12% of your giving will go to broader ministry development, 7% will go to missionaries overseas who cannot raise support in closed countries, and 5% will cover overhead costs.

If you are unable to financially support my work for Cru at UNC, would you nonetheless partner with this ministry through the powerful tool of prayer, asking God to continue to send the Holy Spirit to work salvation and discipleship in Chapel Hill.

Thank you once again for your friendship, influence, and partnership in the gospel and for supporting me financially and/or prayerfully as I strive to extend, perpetuate, and contribute to the ministry of Christ through Cru at UNC.

Your Brother In Christ,

Austin Gentry

422 Edgedale Drive, High Point, NC 27262

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When Faith Seems Hard To Come By

Whether you have grown up in Christian culture or not, it’s probable that you have heard the religious term ‘faith’ many times. It’s a buzzword really. It’s denoted with admirable spirituality and is loaded with the unknown–and people use it a lot. You’ve likely heard an assortment of the phrases “take a step of faith” and “place your faith” and “just have faith” with different spins and various applications. However, while we we hear about ‘faith’ time and time again, I’m afraid that our understanding sometimes fails clarity, objectiveness, or practicality. Speaking from personal experience, I think the notion of ‘having faith’ often comes across as ambiguous, mysterious, and subjective, which isn’t always helpful when it’s understood as the prerequisite for something as significant as salvation, among other things. Indeed, it’s crucial to Christianity.

And while there is much to be said about ‘faith’, Tim Keller provides some insight about the overall nature of faith, what it looks like, and how it plays out in our lives in his exposition of the biblical account when Jesus calmed the deadly storm. What he says here gives much clarity to that term in Christianity that is so crucial, yet sometimes so pervasively ambiguous and foggy.

Check it out:

Jesus asks the disciples, “Do you still have no faith?” That could actually be translated as “Where is your faith?” I love that way of phrasing it. By asking the question in this way, Jesus is prompting them to see that the critical factor in their faith is not its strength, but its object.

Imagine you’re falling off a cliff, and sticking out of the cliff is a branch that is strong enough to hold you, but you don’t know how strong it is. As you fall, you have just enough time to grab that branch. How much faith do you have to have in the branch for it to save you? Must you be totally sure that it can save you? No, of course not. You only have to have enough faith to grab the branch. That’s because it’s not the quality of your faith that saves you; it’s the object of your faith. It doesn’t matter how you feel about the branch; all that matters is the branch. And Jesus is the branch.

People who believe more must not be hard on those who believe less. Why? Because faith ultimately is not a virtue; it’s a gift.
If you want to believe but can’t, stop looking inside; go to Jesus and say, “Help me believe.” Go to him and say, “So you’re the one who gives faith! I’ve been trying to work it out by reasoning and thinking and meditating and going to church in hopes that a sermon will move me—I’ve been trying to get faith by myself. Now I see that you’re the source of faith. Please give it to me.” If you do that, you’ll find that Jesus has been seeking you—he’s the author of faith, the provider of faith, and the object of faith.†

I love that. Much uncertainty, ambiguity, and doubt can be traced back to the fact that we are measuring our standing with God  by the degree of our faith instead of Jesus’ finished work for us on the cross.

Oftentimes, our faith frequently drifts off its proper orbit around the gospel of Jesus and spins off into space, carried only by the momentum of its own separation. However, its the gravitational force of the gospel that pulls our faith into constancy and assurance. Outside of that orbit, our faith is left to forever drift into further dimensions of uncertainty, ambiguity, and ambivalence. It’s the planet of the gospel, not the orbit itself, that gives the metaphorical orbit of your faith assurance. If you’ve ever taken an astronomy/science class, you would know that it’s the existence of the plant first that causes the existence of the orbit. The planet and its gravitational force is what produces the existence of the orbit. Therefore, orbits are maintained and upheld as long as the planet is there. Similarly, true faith is not caused by our trying to orbit, but is produced by the gospel simply existing. If the gospel is the center, your faith won’t spin off into unknown dimensions of space.

To relate this idea to another analogy, think of a bicycle tire: faith is like the spokes and the gospel is like the hub. So long as the spokes of your faith are connected to the hub of the gospel, the tire of your Christianity will stay moving. But when you regard the spokes of your faith as the centerpiece, you’re gonna start having some major problems.

Thus, faith actually cannot come from the inside, but only from the outside. Faith cannot rise from the depths of our sinful hearts; it can only come into existence–like the orbit–by responding to the reality of Jesus’ loving sacrifice and resurrection.

This is important because it has two significant practical implications. First, if faith was primarily about what you could muster up, then you would inevitably boast in yourself because you have more faith than others; and if not, you would  inevitably despair because you can’t seem to naturally muster up enough faith like other people. Both ends of the spectrum are busted morally. However, if faith is primarily about what Jesus has done, then you have no reason to boast in yourself, but only in Him. This destroys all notions of pride and despair, which is what a holy God aims to do in our lives anyways.

Second, if faith was primarily about what you could muster up, then gaining assurance of your salvation would be impossible. How much is enough? Am I working hard enough? Do I need more faith to finally be right with God? How do I know? The problem with inward faith is that you will never know how much is enough. You’ll constantly be anxious. But that is not the way God wants us to live our lives. He loves us and wants us to know that. And so the answer is not to look inward at your degree of faith, but to look outward at his decree of grace. Looking at the cross and the resurrection–outside of yourself–you can be assured that Jesus paid it all for your sins. Therefore, if you lean the weight of your soul upon how much faith you have, everything will crumble; but if you lean the weight of your soul against the unmoving and completed work of Jesus, you will finally find peace and assurance.

If you have a hard time believing in Christianity, these are moral proofs of why Christianity could be true when we look at the notion of faith. Its founder, Jesus, produces a type of humility (not boasting) and confidence (not fretting) in us that we could not possibly produce in ourselves. Other religions will ultimately tell you to trust in how well you have kept the moral code. Morally, this philosophy ends in either pride or despair (based on how well you have kept the code), and also never gives you the peace of assurance. Sure, such living will look good on the outside, but the inside will inevitably suffer from self-righteousness, self-deprecation, or self-doubt. Yet, if Jesus is the savior who alone brings salvation, then we can’t boast (since we didn’t achieve it), we can’t despair (because we can’t lose), and we can have peace of assurance because the cross and resurrection prove it. 

Truly, our faith decreases–not increases–when we focus on the degree of our faith for Jesus. Instead, our faith grows more–not less–when we focus on the work of Jesus for us.

To conclude, if you’re like me and you have struggled with mustering up ‘enough faith’ to please God or to ‘be a good Christian’, I encourage you to give up these vain attempts of self-help. You’re only going to find such help for self by clinging to Jesus anyways–because He hasn’t given you advice about what to do; He’s given you news of what He has done. So, today, drop your checklist of what to do to get a stronger faith, and start believing Jesus that “It is finished”.‡ And while you’re fixating on that, your faith will seem to naturally refuel.



† Keller, Timothy. Jesus The King, p. 130-132.

‡ John 19:30

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Don’t Go To Christianity for Joy, Rationale, or Ethics

I’ve been reading a book recently that, honestly, has been rather irritating. It presents theological ‘itches’, per se, but the ‘scratches’ it provides as solutions just barely touch the edges of those itches, such that the ‘itches’ are unfortunately worse than before. Because the ‘scratch’ doesn’t hit the main ‘itch’—but only the edges—it renders the itch even itchier. Ya know? (Lol at this analogy). Now, I don’t mean to come down hard on the author—I’m sure he has good intentions—but one explanation he gave particularly encapsulates what I believe is painfully true for a majority of modern day Christianity.

To establish context, he tells disappointing stories of people who left the faith and why they did so. However, in recounting the disappointment, he interestingly presupposes upon multiple ideas that are fundamentally contrary to the primary substance of Christianity. Meaning, he implicates reasons of secondary importance (joy, rational, ethics) about why Christianity is ultimately worth following, over the primary ones (Jesus is who he says he is). That might sound too picky or cerebral—but check out what I mean. How it plays out practically is huge.

Here’s the text:

Chloe was raised in a strict Christian home. She obeyed all the Christian rules—no drinking, no smoking, no swearing, and, of course, no naughty sex with her boyfriend. Once out of her parents’ home, she tried checking off the list of dos and don’ts during early adulthood. She decided to walk away once she realized religion couldn’t bring her joy or peace, fulfillment or contentment.

Michael was a classmate from high school who seemed adroit in Christian apologetics. If a skeptical student attacked Christianity, he was the first to turn them back with carefully rehearsed arguments. When I ran into him in a grocery store checkout line years later, he told me he doesn’t ascribe to any religious tradition. His college religion professor spun his spiritual logic around with counterarguments. Because he saw Christianity as a series of rational arguments, the religion of his adolescence slipped like sand between his fingers.

And then there’s Michelle, who began attending church after she had children. Michelle longed for her children to acquire a strong ethical framework, and the local Christian congregation seemed the most commonsense place for such things. Three years later, she watched the church build expensive buildings while much of the community around it crumbled in poverty. I thought Christianity was supposed to make you a good person, she thought as she left the church for the final time.1

So maybe while you were reading, you picked up what I was putting down. Maybe you sensed a feeling of “well… that’s good and all… but it sounds a little… off…”. And if not, that’s fine too, just let me clarify:

Per Chloe: You shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of getting joy, peace, contentment, or satisfaction—if that’s what you want, then… go to a carnival. And like Chloe, why do we think that dry-rule keeping is the formula for happiness? Sure, Christianity does bring peace, joy, contentment, and satisfaction—the fullest and truest of all good things; but it also brings suffering, pain, and trial. If Jesus’ life was marked by suffering, insult, persecution, and pain, why do we assume ours won’t be—especially if he tells us we will suffer? (Jn 16:33). Ultimately, if your Christianity is built on the sand of positive vibes, sentiment, and feeling, then what do you do when the waves of reality come crashing down on your shore? Just smile anyway? White-knuckle a positive ‘Christian’ appearance until your face turns blue behind your plastic mask of Sunday-best deception? I would give up too, and maybe that’s what describes the Chloes of Christianity—it doesn’t bring as much joy as you had hoped. So like a junkie, might as well go look for the next hit, whether it’s spirituality or not.

Per Michael: Furthermore, you shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of finding a bulletproof worldview whose rationale you can fully understand and depend on at all times. Yes, Christianity is incredibly rational. Even so, the times where human rationale can’t grasp God’s rationale is, in fact, a rational angle of Christianity, since God is higher and better than us. However, if Christianity is primarily logic to you, then what happens when the professor presents a counterargument about minor Bible doctrine or history? Like a Jenga set, your whole Christianity will come crumbing down because of one wooden piece that seemingly supported the rest. Additionally, if your Christianity is about your degree of logic comprehension, then it might as well be a matter of GPA—and lucky for you, you happened to be on the favorable end of the bell curve. What of those who aren’t as smart? Despair? And what of those who are? Pride? Logic as the primary substance of Christianity fundamentally results in a busted morality. Nevertheless, while Christianity may be the most superior explanation for the world, it never primarily appeals to logic in the Bible—it centrally appeals to Jesus. And if he rose from the dead, then he is who he said he is—LORD—who can be trusted even when we can’t depend on logic. In other words, we can be at peace with what we can’t/don’t know (lofty arguments) because of what we can/do know (Christ raised from the dead). If Jesus is Lord, then we can trust him.

Per Michelle: Finally, you shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of finding ethics. Sure, Christianity is inherently ethical because it models after a God who presented himself concretely in Christ as completely holy, loving, and just. However, so many people approach Christianity as a means to the ends of ethics. They need stability and morality in their life or the life of their kids. The unspoken motto pervades American culture: “might as well add the ingredient of religion to the mix of good academics, good friends, and good opportunities, and that will set me or my child on the right course for a successful and stable life”. Jesus didn’t come to be the means of anything other the end of Himself. Not to be harsh, but don’t you think it would tick Jesus off if you did the ‘spiritual’ thing of recruiting him as your apprentice to help you get what you really want in life? The highest of our affections and loves should be Jesus—not a stable or successful life. Idolatry is one thing, but asking God to help you more fervently worship your idols is another.

In conclusion, you shouldn’t go to Christianity primarily for joy, rationale, or ethics. Sure, those things are there; but they are there on their own terms. That’s because Christianity does not exalt those things at its center—joy, rationale, ethics, etc. They are not of first importance. They are secondary. They are not the roots; they are the stems, leaves, and fruits. Christianity exalts Jesus as first importance—the foundation, the cornerstone, the roots. Therefore, going to Christianity primarily for joy, rationale, and ethics is like grabbing only for the stems, leaves, and fruit. Ultimately, it will turn out to be disappointing, because without the roots, those stems, leaves, and fruits will wither up in a week’s time, proving useless. But if you go for the roots and abide in Jesus, you’ll reap the stem, leaves, and fruit as well. Similarly, if you primarily go to Christianity for joy, rational, and ethics and not Jesus, you’ll get neither. But if you primarily go to Christianity for Jesus, you’ll get both and an abundance. 

Go to Christianity primarily because of Christ. Because he rose from the dead, and truly is who he says he is. Don’t go for joy, rational, or ethics. Don’t mistake the secondary things for the primary thing. Go for Jesus—and find the rest in abundance.



1. Merritt, Jonathan. Jesus Is Better Than You Imagined, p. 224-225.

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5 Responses to the Notorious Phrase: “I Love Jesus, but not the Church”

Hey guys, earlier this year I wrote a similar blog on this same topic, however, I wanted to tweak it a bit by condensing the content, changing the approach, and drawing from some analogies in order to more clearly communicate each response. In addition, I also changed the format from text in trial #1 to video in trial #2. You might notice that the video offers only 4 responses, not 5, which was done for the sake of length. However, I did add the 5th response in text below the embedded video.

To be honest, I’ve felt hesitant to share the video because 1) it’s kinda weird watching yourself 2) I don’t wanna come across as self-promotional and 3) I feel like I am going out on uncharted waters a little bit. I don’t have a lot of experience doing/making this type of thing, but since YouTube is beginning to take off as an interactive online platform (like present day social media), I figured I might as well put some content out there for whoever stumbles across it.

So here is the video and, again, the 5th response is below it.

#5: I love Jesus, but not the church… yet, the local church is the vehicle for the Great Commission to our community. You are much more effective as a witness when fighting with the army of the local church around you instead of striving by yourself. A convincing picture of the gospel to the world will not be the attempts of one person, but the combined, multifaceted ways a community collectively declares and portrays the person and work of Jesus.


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What is ‘Nearness’ to God? || Psalm 46

Psalm 46 is one of the most referenced chapters in the book Psalms when any notion or experience of suffering, trial, or hardship is in view. Surely, it’s popular because it speaks clearly of God’s steadfast character in a wavering and unclear world, and declares comfort for the ever-changing and harsh ‘whats’ with an emphasis of a never-changing and loving ‘Who’. If you’re a Christian, you’ve likely heard or read this passage seemingly countless times. In fact, I happened to read it again this week, and when I did so, I noticed some notes I had jotted down from back in 2011 that I wanted to more fully elaborate upon and then share in this blog. I’ve copied the text below and then have written some thoughts in response.

Here’s Psalm 46:

1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
God will help her when morning dawns.
The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
he utters his voice, the earth melts.
The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Come, behold the works of the Lord,
how he has brought desolations on the earth.
He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the chariots with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

One thing that particularly strikes me in this passage is verse 1, which promises that God is very near to us, being a “very present help in trouble”. Initially, many of us think of God’s presence as this ‘ethereal essence’ or ‘spiritual zone’ we enter into when we have mustered up the right amount of emotion after listening to some hype worship music. Or we think of God’s presence as a feeling we get after we have done a good job of taking steps toward God.

But this verse completely shatters those preconceived notions into a thousand pieces. This verse, in fact, says just the opposite! It explains that God’s presence is just as near and pervasive when we are at the end of our rope and life is at it’s worst as much as when we are ‘in the spiritual zone’ or on that ‘spiritual high’! To be sure, God’s presence is not a changing feeling, but an unchanging truth. God’s presence is not gained by our righteous deeds towards God, but is given because of Christ’s perfect righteousness credited to us by grace. His presence is fundamentally about being in a relationship with God that is positional—not transactional. In Christ, you have been adopted as a child of God brought near to himself—and that cannot be changed. His presence is not transactional where you ‘do for God’ or ‘get right with God’, and in exchange, he will ‘be near to you’ or ‘bless you’. In Christ, your positional nearness to God is not based off the two-to-three steps you make towards God every day, but is based on the trillions of steps Jesus made towards you through his coming to earth, perfect life, and death on the cross in your place. Thus, your boast about being in his presence can only and ever be credited to His work—not yours. Indeed, this makes sense, because God has always been committed to leveling the playing field among all people and destroying the sin of our pride and self-sufficiency, making us humble and dependent on him.

One important caveat: sometimes you can feel his presence, but that does not necessarily mean that the truth of his presence and love is only there when it is felt. In fact, a majority of times, you won’t feel that presence. For example, let’s say a daughter has the complete love of her father. But sometimes, the daughter might feel the truth of that love more so when the father sweeps her off feet, spins her around, and gives her a big hug. But nevertheless, the truth of that love is always there. Sometimes she feels it, but all the time she knows it. Be sure to never define the facts by your feelings. Rather, you should place the facts at the forefront, believe it by faith, and let your feelings respond accordingly. In other words, feelings should respond to the facts, but should never define them. Facts should influence feelings, but never the other way around.

Furthermore, in the following verses, the text significantly connects God’s sense of “very present nearness” to us with his incredible greatness, power, and love. Though the biggest mountains give way and the earth falls apart, we still have no reason to fear because he is very near, very present, very powerful, and very loving. Even if the most seemingly sturdy, unmovable things in our lives fail us, crumble beneath us, or break apart, we can be assured of one truer anchor for the soul—God’s love for us in Christ. I love how Hebrews 6:19-20 relates to this verse; it says, “We have [God’s promises] as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” To briefly exegete these two verses, “a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain” essentially means that our hope is based on the certainty of God himself, his holy and unchanging character, and his presence, which Jesus proved and accomplished for us in his perfect life and substitionary death as the perfect mediator (or priest) between us and God.1

So, practically, what are those things in your life that seem like unmovable mountains that you think will not fail you? Money? Health? Status? Security? Family? None of these are sinful—in fact, they are all blessings—however, they were never meant to support the weight of your soul, and if your soul leans on them completely, then they will completely fail you, unforgivingly. They are good blessings, but terrible gods. “Though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the sea”—whether that be a lost job, health problem, economic crash, passing family member—there is only one steadfast, eternal hope for the soul, and that is God himself.

Moreover, the text says that God makes wars cease, “even to the end of the earth”, and he can break any bow, shatter any spear, and burn any and all chariots. These allusions might seem ancient and irrelevant, but they are significant because these were the strongest weapons of warfare in the times that Psalms was written—they were the strongest instruments and vessels of conflict and infliction. And God boasts of being above it. Everything that is above your head is still under God’s feet. He’s in control and in power.

Overall, God is saying to those in Christ that there is no need to fear—in fact, it is illogical to worry in light of his greatness and great love for us. Through any hardship, we can “be still and know” that he is God and that he is constantly “with us”—in Christ, positionally, and because of that, in crisis, personally.

Even in our greatest trial—our separation from God and everything truly good—God has victoriously reconciled and redeemed us back to himself through Jesus, who lived the righteous life we should have lived and died the death we should have died, taking our sentence of justice and giving us his reward of right standing with God as a gift of grace. If He is able and willing in love to meet our greatest spiritual needs when we were his enemies, what makes us think He is not able, or does not want to help us in any other need, which is significantly less weighty than our redemption, now that we are his beloved children?

Therefore, let’s rest in His love, the assurance and abundance of His grace, will, and strength, knowing that “He is God”.



  1. The historical allusion to the high priest of Melchizedek highlights that Jesus is the perfect priest/king figure for all peoples under the promise God gave to Abraham in Genesis for bringing salvation to the world through his lineage.


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The Grand Canyon Isn’t About You

Do people go to the Grand Canyon to enhance their self esteem? No, of course not. You go to take in the incredible majesty of all that is around you. Thinking of the outward glory of the Grand Canyon only as means to inward enhancement is appallingly illogical and psychopathic. In view of the Grand Canyon, you simply lose all bearings of yourself, and you forget yourself entirely because of the immense gravity of the beauty around you. And ironically, quite the reverse happens: soaking up that grand view—instead of indulging on yourself—is what makes you better all along. It’s better medicine for the soul. Indeed, forgetting about enhancing yourself in that moment is actually what enhances you.

That’s the striking paradox I want to cover in this blog: forgetting about improving yourself is what actually what improves you all along, because it’s what finally snaps your natural, compulsive, underlying tendency to make everything ultimately about you.

So then, how does one forget about himself/herself? We simply don’t have the luxury of living in view of the Grand Canyon for the rest of our lives. However, I will propose that we begin to lose a sense of ourselves when we to begin to gain a sense of God’s glory.

And so my question is this: if it’s simply illogical to view a Grand Canyon type experience as a means for self-enhancement, then why approach God on the same terms? So many people in the church approach God as a means towards their own personal enhancement. God is not seen as LORD in our life—he is so often reduced to an apprentice who mediates our own love affair with ourselves and idols. We ask him to do things for us because we want things—not him. We treat him like a vending machine or spiritual Santa, such that if we just put in the ‘coins’ or update the ‘resume’ of our good works, then he’ll ultimately enhance us by giving us what we want. We illogically substitute the Creator for the creation, the Giver for the gifts. But God is not only the ultimate Giver, but the ultimate Gift! If you have the Giver, then you have all that is his. But if you only have the gifts, then that’s it.

This issue is fundamentally about our design: if we were designed for God, then our own self-enhancement only and truly happens when God is in ultimate view—not ourselves. The thought that we can use God as a means for the end of self-enhancement is grounded on the false presupposition that we are best fulfilled when God serves our glory. But quite the opposite is true: God designed us to serve his glory. Therefore, we will only and can only find ultimate satisfaction by glorifying God.

Besides, when do you feel more alive: Soaking in the glory of the Grand Canyon, or being locked in a room of mirrors? The contrast is alarmingly stark. 

As John Piper says, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him”. And to add to that, I’ll say, we are most enhanced when God is most glorified in us. Meaning, we become more optimally ourselves when God is most optimally glorified in us. 

Indeed, when Christianity becomes only about our life transformation and enhancement, it makes us wonder who we are really worshiping after all. Christianity is not about the Christian and his improvement, but about the Christ and his glory. And ironically, it is only in view of Christ and his glory where Christians truly improve after all. Christ’s glory is what finally melts and reorients our natural, inward bent to a selfless, outward posture—and that’s when we feel most alive, burn hottest with passion, grow fastest in humility, love stronger, and persevere harder and more gladly in God. That’s what we were made for.

“Sin is man substituting himself for God. Salvation is God substituting himself for man.” -Stott

As all sin, death, bitterness, and hopelessness can ultimately be traced to an emphasis of ourselves over God, conversely, all saving, redeeming, sanctifying, and glorifying can be expressed as an emphasis of God over ourselves. Therefore, any spiritual growth methodology that takes the trajectory of ‘ourselves over God’ is essentially a seed planted on infertile soil—it’s its own coffin. However, any seed planted on the grounds of ‘God over ourselves’ is an explosion of spiritual growth because that’s what we were designed for.

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Gospel as Manual or a Man?

One thing that I am continually learning in my walk with Christ is that the theoretical  and the applicable are indeed connected, though in a very specific way that I was once unaware. Of course, you need the theoretical blueprints before you can build anything practical. So in an analogical sense, I guess you could say I am learning that the main blueprints for Christian living is not primarily a manual to live by, an example to live up to, a guide to follow, or a formula to adhere to in order to accomplish or succeed. Rather, the blueprints for true Christian is actually a person, Jesus, whose life, death, and accomplishments are mine by grace through faith. What I mean is that following Jesus and trying to be like Him from a ‘manual, example, guide, or formula’ approach–which I think is especially characteristic of modern day Christianity–is a futile attempt. It just doesn’t work.

On the converse, here is what I propose and what I think is most biblical anyways: True Christian growth is not a byproduct of living by the metaphorical blueprints of the Bible or life of Jesus, but rather living in light of the life and accomplishments of The Blueprint–the Cornerstone, the Author and Founder of our faith–Jesus Christ.

I’m afraid that when we manual-ize, formula-ize, or make Jesus and his life to only be an example to live by, we fundamentally lose the igniting force of what His life and death actually means to us, both personally and corporately. Making Jesus and his life into a moral manual, theoretically, means only our behavioral compliance, practically. But understanding Jesus and his life and death as a gracious sacrifice for me when I least deserved it, theoretically, means melting my heart of stone-cold affections for God into fervent love, practically.

Indeed, is stone-cold affections for God, yet with behavioral compliance, what He wants? Or behaviors that are an overflow of love? Certainly the latter: “The greatest commandment is to love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind and love your neighbor as yourself”(Mt. 22:37). Therefore, the gospel’s power is ignited not when it is theoretically legislated into a manual, formula, or checklist for living, but when it is embraced as the news of a Person. The gospel’s power is not tapped when we make it to be a manual, example, or formula to live by, but a Person to live in light of.

Another way to say it is that life applications (about what to do for Christ and others) are only fueled by gospel implications (about what Christ has already done for others and me). What He has done for you fuels, informs, and changes the nature of what you should do for Him and others–not from the prod of compulsion, but from a response of love.

Essentially, I am learning that the power for everything I try to do, or want to do, or strive to accomplish spiritually in my life–whether that be spiritual fruit, personal growth, etc–is not fundamentally linked to my own efforts to improve, but is a power only tapped into by gazing upon Jesus’ life, accomplishments, fruit, and efforts for me. Not my efforts for Him.

Here’s an example:

Those who want to become generous shouldn’t simply try harder to give more, or try harder to be a cheerful giver—as if the fruits of generosity and cheerfulness can be emotionally mustered up from the infertile grounds of our own naturally ungenerous, selfish hearts. Rather, if you want to become generous and cheerful in giving, then you should focus on the generosity and cheerfulness of Jesus, who gave you everything when you least deserved it.

“I am so flawed that Jesus had to die for me, yet I am so loved and valued that Jesus was glad to die for me” -Tim Keller

Meditating on the generosity of Christ is what will fuel an organic engendering of generosity within you. Or, to say it another way, focusing on the generosity of Christ for you is what will produce generosity for Christ in you. If you want to become generous towards God and others, ruminate on God’s generosity towards you until you want to give.

And so it goes with all other spiritual fruits: dwelling on the forgiveness of God to you is what will lead you to be forgiving to others; thinking on the graciousness of God to you is what will lead you to be gracious to others; ruminating on the acceptance of God to you is what will lead you to accept those who are unlike you, even your enemies. An encounter with Jesus and his greatness is what will compel a response to Him and others that resembles His characteristics.

To conclude, I encourage you all to not make a law of what to do out of the good news of what has been already been done. Indeed, the greatest thief of the gospel’s declaration of What Has Jesus Done? might be legalism’s emphasis of What Would Jesus Do?.

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