“My relationship to God is not a variable one. The case is not that I am a child of God, and then again not a child of God. That is not the basis of my standing, that is not the position. When God had mercy upon me, He made me His child, and I remain his child. A very sinful, and a very unworthy one, perhaps, but still his child! And now, when I fall into sin, I have not sinned against the law, I have sinned against love. Like the prodigal, I will go back to my Father and I ill tell Him, “Father, I am not worthy to be called your son.” But He will embrace me, and He will say, “Do not talk nonsense, you are My child,” and He will shower his love upon me! That is the meaning of putting on the breastplate of righteousness! Never allow the devil to get you into a state of condemnation. Never allow a particular sin to cause again the whole question of your standing before God. That question has been settled.” ~Martyn Lloyd-Jones

(HT: My good friend George Koontz)

My fundamental identity is not found in the life I lived today, no matter how well I think I lived it. I have the privilege of working each day to bring justice to orphans, particularly the orphans of Ethiopia. There are approximately 10 million orphans in Ethiopia today, creating a huge need for physical support and for adoption. There are orphans as young as two years old who live on the street begging daily for food. James 1:27 says that one of the essential marks of true religion is caring for orphans in their affliction. I am committed both personally and vocationally to serving Ethiopia’s orphans through our adoption program and orphan care ministry. It is certainly a great cause that is close to the heart of God. But my fundamental identity must not be found in my little work to bring a small measure of drop-in-a-bucket justice to Ethiopia’s orphans.

My fundamental identity is found in the One who lived and died in my place, in the One whom God raised up from the place of the dead ones, in the One who is seated at the right hand of the Father. The One in whom the Father will unite all things, things in heaven and things on earth, is, amazingly, my fundamental identity. He is the One who savingly visited me in my affliction—affliction caused by my own sin and rebellion. Jesus frees me to do what little I can for the orphans of Ethiopia even when my efforts really amount to nothing when compared to the number of orphans who are in need. Fortunately, my identity is not found in what I do. It’s found in who Jesus is and what he’s done.

Timmy Brister announced his blog’s gospel-centered resources page. It contains lists of books, blogs, articles, and media to aid in enriching gospel-understanding. His plan is to update it regularly.

You can download Mike Bullmore’s “The Functional Centrality of the Gospel in the Life of the Local Church MP3″ for free now at Sovereign Grace Ministries Store. It’s excellent. Check it out.

One:22 blogs about a “preaching the gospel to yourself diagram.”

Download this free sermon from The Crowded House entitled “The priority of the gospel.” It’s the first sermon from their series on what The Crowded House values. I’ve been greatly challenged by them the last few weeks. Excellent stuff for sure.

:: click here for the previous post on gospel-centered talk around the blogosphere ::

This is part three in a series of posts on Christian identity (Part One; Part Two). In the comment section of part one a pastor of youth (who, BTW, has a great blog) remarked:

I find, more and more, in my youth and in numerous counseling situations w/ adults that we DO have an “identity crisis”…and we have this “crisis” precisely because we go to the wrong places to find the answers to our identity crisis. I know I need the Gospel EVERY DAY…or I quickly buy into what the marketers are selling me.

I have lived long enough to learn from experience that if I am not actively finding my identity in the gospel, I will find it somewhere else. There is never a moment where I am not locating my identity in something. If I’m not locating it in God’s gospel, I will seek to be defined by something that was never meant to define me. We were not created in the image of vocational success, sexual fulfillment, money, or any other good yet created thing. No, we were created in the image of God and God alone; and although the image of God in man was profoundly defaced by sin, it is renewed in us by the power of the gospel. Only in the gospel is our God-given identity renewed and restored. Without the gospel we leave ourselves no other alternative but to live as if we were created in the image of some finite thing—something that ultimately has no life-stabilizing weight (Romans 1:23-25). This is idolatry. Paul Tripp writes:

Our deepest problem is that we seek to find our identity outside the story of redemption…Only as we see our story enfolded in the larger story of redemption will we begin to live God-honoring lives. Lasting change begins when our identity, purpose, and sense of direction are defined by God’s story (Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands, 28-29).

It is my intention in this series entitled “An Identity with Weight” to bring the gospel—the transforming story of God’s redemptive activity in the Messiah—to bear upon this identity crisis.

If you recall from part one, Paul informs us in 2 Corinthians 1:8 that the affliction he experienced in Asia was so great, burdening him beyond his strength, that he despaired of life itself. Paul writes, “We were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.” Things were so bad that he, according to verse 9, felt as though he “had received the sentence of death.” In other words, his afflictions were of such weight and severity that he actually lost all hope of living. Yet three chapters later we read these apparently contradictory words of Paul, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair” (2 Corinthians 4:8). He despaired but does not despair. How are we to understand these two passages together?

Let me suggest that at the time when Paul “despaired of life itself” (2 Corinthians 1:8), he was, in some measure, locating his identity in the wrong place. This is what I think accounts for these apparently contradictory texts.

Why do I think this? One reason is due to Paul informing us of the divine-purpose behind the severe afflictions he endured. Paul tells us that he was brought to the point of despairing of life itself in order “to make [him] rely not on [himself] but on God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9). What might this purpose statement imply? Paul was like all of us in this way, namely, that in times of trial and temptation his default mode was to rely, in some measure, upon himself and not upon the God of the gospel. So what did God do with Paul? He ordained that while he was in Asia Paul would be “burdened beyond his strength” (2 Corinthians 1:8) in order to further refine the reliance activity of his heart .

So, what is happening in chapter 4 when Paul says that he was “perplexed, but not driven to despair” (v. 9)? The text seems to indicate that at some point in those moments when he despaired of life itself, he experienced afresh the resurrecting power of the God of the gospel. Paul was burdened beyond his strength so that he might learn to rely on the “God who raises the dead,” so that his functional identity might continue to be transformed as he received a deeper experience of the resurrection power of God in the Messiah (2 Corinthians 1:9). It seems to me that when we look at 2 Corinthians 1 and 4 together we learn that it was through the fresh application of the gospel that Paul was delivered from that particular identity crises in Asia, that is, that he was delivered from relying upon himself more than he relied upon God. Paul experienced what he experienced so that his sense of “identity, purpose, and sense of direction” would increasingly be defined by God’s story of redemption.

If we are to resist our culture’s marketed identities, we need our minds to be renewed by the identity-transforming power of the gospel.

How can Christians thrive (not just survive) as a counter-cultural community—as a culture that models what a true God-centered human community looks like (1 Peter 2:9)—within a society that has mastered the skill of marketing lightweight identities as heavyweight identities? Our society daily pressures us to locate our identity (and, therefore, our significance and meaning) in anything from our status within the culture’s current power structures to our physical appearance as it compares to the young and beautiful people that fill our culture’s magazines. When Christians buy into these marketed identities we cease to be a counter-cultural presence within our society. In other words, Christians who value good things (e.g. being a successful businessman) as ultimate things (e.g. “I’m a nobody unless I’m a successful businessman”) (see Romans 1:23-25) are not functioning as “a royal priesthood” or “a holy (i.e. distinct) nation” within secular culture (1 Peter 1:9-10). So I ask again, how can Christians thrive as a counter-cultural community that values good things as good things and ultimate things as ultimate things within a secular society that finds its significance and meaning in life in lightweight identities that are marketed as heavyweight identities?

The culture of Paul’s day, the culture of the Roman Empire, valued many of the same things our culture values. Rome was all about power. If you think about it, power was what was behind the Roman cross. Crucifixions were the way Rome graphically demonstrated power in the protection of its power and status as a world-dominating empire. Power and status were huge in the authority structure of Roman society from top to bottom. They represented everything that made Rome great. And at the very top of Rome’s authority structure was the man with all the power, Caesar. Therefore, it’s not difficult to imagine the trickle down effect that this had upon the various cultures spread out over the entire Empire. If you were to be considered a “somebody” within the Roman world, you had to possess a certain level of power and status or at least be meaningfully connected with those who did. If you wanted a life with meaning and significance, so the Roman culture said, you had to pursue what the culture pursued, namely, power and status.

I believe this brief historical snapshot of life in the Roman world helps us see more of the impact Paul’s words in Romans 1:15-16 had on the Roman believers who found themselves at the very bottom of the power and status food chain.

“I am eager to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes…”

Paul is not ashamed of the gospel because it is the power of the God who has marked out his Son as the true Lord of the earth by raising him from the dead (Romans 1:4). Caesar is not the center of power. He is not the world’s true Lord. No, God’s gospel, which Paul is eager to proclaim in Rome, announces that Israel’s despised Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, whom God raised from the realm of the dead, is the world’s rightful Lord. He is the locus of world-renewing, significance-providing, identity-creating power. What I find beautiful here is that it is clear that Paul finds his identity not in what Roman society markets but in God and his powerful Gospel. The only way we as Christians can thrive as a counter-cultural community within a society that, with great skill, markets lightweight identities as heavyweight identities is if we are firmly grounded in God and his gospel. Only the gospel provides an identity with weight, an identity that can withstand the stresses of being a Christian within a secular culture that values good things as ultimate things.

It is the gospel of Romans 1:15-16 that filled Paul with “good courage” and prevented him from losing heart (2 Corinthians 4:16). So what was it about the gospel in particular that infused Paul with hope when he was despairing of life itself? 2 Corinthians 4-5 answers this question for us. Stay tuned for post three.

(Part One)

We live in an identity-fixated society. Just ask our country’s marketing agencies. Their campaigns focus not upon what kind of people we ought to be—people of integrity who are committed to serving others rather than to being served—but upon a particular image that they want us to believe we must have in order to experience fulfilling lives. What, according to these agencies, do we need to get this “life-fulfilling” image for ourselves? Money, the more the better. Does our society buy into these marketing strategies? Why don’t we ask the credit card companies? VISA, MasterCard, and Discover will tell us that people are more than willing to spend money they don’t have in order to get an image that promises to provide for them what they most desperately want, namely, an identity with weight, an identity that will give them a sense of being somebody, that will infuse them with good courage enabling them to successfully endure the rollercoaster ride that we call life.

If our society cares about marketing a weighty identity that would sustain people in the ups and downs of life, it would do well to make people aware of 2 Corinthians 4:16-5:5. If we want an identity that will keep us from losing heart and will enable us to endure all the difficulties of life with courage (2 Corinthians 5:6), Paul tells us where to look in 2 Corinthians 4-5.

Earlier in this letter to the Corinthians Paul informs us that while he was in Asia he was “so utterly burdened beyond [his] strength that [he] despaired of life itself. Indeed, [he] felt that [he] had received the sentence of death” (2 Corinthians 1:8-9). Paul may be describing what our society would call a nervous breakdown of sorts. His affliction was so intense, so unmitigated, that he admits to despairing of life itself (1:8). Yet, just a couple chapters later Paul says, “We do not lose heart” (2 Corinthians 4:16). Something held Paul’s life in place even though he was despairing of it. What was it? The light weight promise of a shiny new vehicle? When you are despairing of life itself, hearing that all you need to keep your life from blowing away is a brand new “image-securing” Hummer would be like hearing that all you need to save your home from a hurricane like Katrina is an umbrella.

So, what is it the infused Paul’s despairing heart with weighty hope and needed courage? It was not the light weight identity that our society markets. It was the weighty identity announced in the gospel. This is what we will begin to consider in part two of “An Identity with Weight.”