When the Apostle Paul begins talking about being “In Christ”, I wonder if he is extending the image of today’s text.  Jesus gives us a powerful run of images describing our relationship with both the Father and Himself.  We are “in Him” and He is “in The Father”.  Yet also He is “in us” and the Father is “in Him”.  And always, the Holy Spirit is “in us”.  But as is the case with many theological metaphors, it’s not the physics but the message that matters.

With God in us, we are empowered to act on His behalf and with His guidance.  One of the ideal images of scripture is the perfectly obedient Child of God doing exactly what God would do were He in complete control of the person.  With it’s “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” vibe, this image can be disturbing to our control-mandated culture, but it is what we strive for nonetheless.

The flip side, being “In Christ”, is far more comfortable and more prevalent in the New Testament.  When Paul says we are “In Christ” he is juxtaposing this with our natural state of being “In the World”.  This is a change in spiritual geography, Prof. Klyne Snodgrass says.  We move from the world, which is ruled by The Flesh, The Devil, and Sin, “into Christ” which is ruled by Him alone.  This is a world governed by grace, truth, and life as opposed to the world governed by judgement, lies, and death.

We understand the image of moving to a new land with different rules much better than being taken over by another being, and so Paul pushes the former image more than the later.  But either way, the truth is the same: as Christians, we live a different life, with different rules than the world around us.

When I ask God for things, I don’t always get what I ask for.  I ask, “In Jesus’ name” and everything, but still I don’t get what I want.  This can get confusing with such passages as today’s.

“Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.”  I love my 3 year old Isaac, and I would give him anything.  But at times, he asks for all kinds of things, from unhealthy food to risky adventures to downright dangerous toys.  I love him, so much in fact that I would never do anything or allow anything to seriously hurt him.  And so I have a conundrum – is love giving him what he asks or protecting him from what he asks for?

This is God’s conundrum as well.  Does He give us what we ask for when it’s dangerous, or does He protect us, even when that means saying no?  And that leads to the hardest part of that love.  Often when the things for which we ask are not going to lead to our best or are even dangerous for us, they still don’t seem like it.  And so we get confused because what we ask for “cannot be anything but good,” and yet God may still say no.

I guess it boils down, as does so much in our lives, to faith.  Do we trust God to have a better view of the future than we do?  Do we trust God to be seeking our best even better than we do?  If so, then the best prayer we can possibly give is, “Your will be done.”

Throughout my life, I’ve experienced periods of growth, periods of stability, and periods of pruning.  I like the growth the best.

None of these periods are bad, or wrong, or unimportant.  In fact, we so badly need them all that if we are missing any of the three in our lives, we will not flourish as God wants us to.  But though they might be the right things to do, and they may be crucial to our spiritual growth, they are not all fun.

My senior year of high school was a marked time of growth in my spiritual life.  I had just returned from CHIC, a triennial youth conference, and from the bus ride home through the next year, I read my bible, prayed, or pondered the truths of God for an hour every day without fail.  I missed times with friends, I postponed homework, and even missed meals once or twice to prioritize my time with God.  And through that year, I grew in my faith in noticeable and life-changing ways.

My first years of ministry were a time of stability in my spiritual life.  I wasn’t growing significantly but I was working with God.  I was reading my bible and praying, attending worship and part of a small group.  I was serving in the church and helping others to grow, but I was not growing myself.  That was what God intended for that season, and it was good.

Seminary proved to be a time of pruning for me.  Through the professors, the classes, the discussions, and even the homework, God trimmed away the parts of my life that were dead, or dying, or just overgrown.  This pruning was painful as my old frames of reference, theological assumptions, and childish (not child-like) beliefs were debated and ultimately destroyed.  It was a crisis of faith for me, but one that allowed new growth, richer growth, deeper growth to come.  This was the most painful time of the three, but also the most profitable spiritually.

By no means were these the only periods of growth, stability, and pruning I’ve faced.  But all three were God-driven, and all three led to a flourishing faith.  As one branch on the True Vine of Jesus Christ, I grow because of the work of our Gardener God.

Have you had noticeable times of growth in your life?  Have you had times of stability?  Have you faced times of pruning?  Which phase would you say you are facing right now?  Can you see God’s hand at work, whether He’s fertilizing, trimming, or simply tending you today?

In the first century, when a Jewish man decided to get married, his life was choreographed quite specifically for the next few years.

First, the young man would tell his father of the woman he wished to marry, and his father would arrange to pay the bride price and establish the New Covenant, a marriage covenant, between the man and the woman.  The man would accompany his father but would not stay with his bride-to-be very long.  Instead, the groom would return to his father’s house and begin construction on the new home he and his bride would share.  This construction would be the building of a room off of his father’s house and it was here that the new couple would live.  While the groom was building the room, he would not see his bride, and depending on the time, ability, and help the groom would spend on the project, this time period could be up to a year or more.

Once the building project was finished, the groom would clean himself up, gather his groomsmen, and go to get his bride.  This would traditionally happen at night, and the groom, it was said, would come “like a thief in the night” for his new bride. The bride, prepared for this moment along with her bridesmaids, would then accompany the groom back to the house where they would consummate the marriage and commence with a week-long feast, during which the bride would primarily remain closeted in her bridal chamber.  This meant that the bridesmaids would have to stand sentry for the bride every night once the coming of the groom was immanent.  If their lamps ran out of oil and the groom came while they were “off duty”, they were likely to miss the wedding ceremony.

“In my father’s house are many rooms… and I am going to prepare a place for you…. I will come back and take you to be with me.”

We have, at some point in our lives, denied Jesus.  Whether with our words or our actions, we have implied or even stated out loud that we don’t know this Nazarene.  We have acted just like the world or the worldly people around us.  We have joined them in their sinful behaviors.  We have not stood for Jesus when His name needed a champion.  In these and myriad other ways, we have, at some point in our lives, denied Jesus.

But what are we to do about it?  Today, we see the prediction that two of Jesus’ closest friends would deny Him, betray Him, turn their back on all that He stands for.  And we know that each of them reacted to this behavior in very different ways.  Which way will we choose?

Judas, after his betrayal, felt a surprising depth of remorse, and decided to fix it himself in the only way he knew how.  Rather than returning to Jesus and seeking redemption, he decided to take God’s role as judge on himself.  He found himself guilty and gave the maximum penalty for his sin: death.  And then he carried out the execution, hanging himself in a field.

Peter, after his betrayal, felt an expected depth of remorse, but rather than fixing it himself, he returned to Jesus.  He trusted Jesus to be just and fair, and was ready to face his punishment.  And so we find Jesus not just but merciful, not fair but unfair in His forgiveness.  He reinstates Peter to his leadership role, and Peter, now living because of the grace of Jesus, goes on to lead the church, to write 2 of our New Testament books, and ultimately to die not in shame but in glory.

When you realize your betrayal, whose example will you follow?  Will you, like Judas, seek to rectify it yourself?  Or will you like Peter return to Jesus, seek His forgiveness, and go on to serve even more closely?  The choice is yours.