(Note: This first published on September 23, 2021)
We can always find a reason to discount the things of God. Especially if there’s a call to action attached. We love the miraculous, to know that the God of creation loves, provides, and cares for us, so long as He comes on our terms.
And if not, we can find plenty of reasons to close our ears. We all have this tendency, and when we step out in faith, we’ll probably, on occasion, experience negative or dismissive reactions from others.
When that occurs, we can become offended, feel defeated, or remain focused on Christ.
When God first called me into writing and speaking, my “credentials” were far from impressive. Though I had earned my GED and taken nearly two years of college classes, I was a largely uneducated high school dropout, former homeless girl. My love for Scripture certainly didn’t qualify me as a theologian, nor would the hours I spent doing housework and homeschooling my second-grade daughter appear notable in an event brochure bio.
In fact, I can’t remember how I was introduced the night I delivered my first paid presentation. It was that unimpressive. And while God overwhelmed me with His presence, His Spirit, and perhaps most beautifully of all, His pleasure, once the event concluded, everyone left, I reflected on all that had occurred.
The positive…
The peace I felt once I began to speak.
The awe of knowing knowing, despite my lack of experience and education, Christ had chosen to use me.
The joy of experiencing His Spirit flowing first in me and then through me.
But I thought about the negative as well—the sting of shame I felt after one presumably successful and prestigious man, with a word and look of disdain, discounted everything I had to say.
Leaving me feeling discounted, like a fool who should have stayed home doing dishes.
“Why did that church choose me, Lord? Out of all the people they could have booked? Those with bachelor degrees, decades of ministry experience, and a string of titles behind their names? They probably had plenty others much more qualified in the audience while I spoke.”
God’s inaudible response swept through my soul. “You are their excuse.”
His statement, though undeniably clear, stung and left me confused. Like He’d given me a directive of some sort without any indication as to how to live it out. Scripture speaks of God choosing the foolish things of the world to confound the wise. Did that mean I was to remain untrained and inexperienced?
And yet, I knew in my soul that wasn’t the case.
Now, over a decade, a college degree, and years of ministry later, I now understand. God’s statement–and that man’s discounting behavior on the night I felt so insufficient–hadn’t been about me at all. God was helping me to see mankind with new eyes, with His vision.
Our eloquence and evidences won’t matter to the one who’s already determined to reject God’s truth.
As Jesus told His disciples, and therefore, us as well, “If the world hates you”––mocks or rejects you or disregards and minimizes what you have to say–– “keep in mind that it hated Me first” (John 15:18).
There were many who saw the miracles He performed. Who were there when He fed thousands from one boy’s lunch. People who had watched Him cast out demons, bring sight to the blind and mobility to the lame. Men and women who were amazed by His teaching, but ultimately, found ways to discredit the deepest and most transformative truth He shared:
That He was God’s Son, the long promised Messiah, who came to bridge the gap between God and man.
In John chapter 7, midway through one of the most joyous and reflective festivals on the Jewish calendar, Jesus stood up and began to teach. Verses 15-17 state, “The people were amazed and asked, ‘How did this man get such learning without having studied?’ Jesus answered, ‘My teaching is not Myown. It comes from Him who sent Me. If anyone chooses to do God’s will, he will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on My own” (NIV).
This was a powerful and telling invitation. The questions Christ evoked within His listeners would drive some to investigate further, ultimately leading them to life. But those same questions would cause others to turn away.
As a good number of them did, some vehemently speaking against Him while others chose to remain stuck in their ambiguity. They “began to ask, ‘Isn’t this the Man they are trying to kill? Here He is, speaking publicly, and they are not saying a word to Him. Have the authorities really concluded that He is the Messiah? But we know where this man is from; when the Messiah comes, no one will know where He is from.”
Here’s what I find sad. The people could’ve easily found answers to all their questions. Their doubts and uncertainty could’ve drawn them to unshakable, life-changing truth, to the One who is truth. Instead, they let what could’ve been an avenue to faith become a barrier between them and Christ.
Largely, out of fear. (v. 13)
Unfortunately, there are times when I act the same. While I’ve accepted God’s big truth regarding salvation, I can stumble on His leading in my day-to-day. When my fears rise up, I’m tempted to discount that nudge from God, that call to obedience, to sacrifice. Allowing myself to be held captive by the unknowns and uncertainty instead of accepting Christ’s invitation to step out in faith.
Lord, help us to see every question, every doubt, and every unknown as an invitation to greater understanding and deeper intimacy with You.
