Comparison and Competition

Over the past several months, I have found a tendency in my life to compare myself with other Christians. I’ve taken the picture of the Christian life as a race and run with it (excuse the cheesy pun). I’ve turned this life into a race where I’m competing with other Christians to finish the race first.

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win.” – I Corinthians 9:24 (NASB)

This verse has been the catchphrase for VBS as well as many a motivational sermon. I have to wonder if Paul is experiencing life at a different level than we have. What is he trying to win? Is it salvation? Is it favor? I know for years this verse has scared me into doing more so that I can maintain my salvation, or create good standing with God. Even though I know by standing with Him is safe, I don’t want to risk getting to the end and have Him turn to me with a look of disapproval and tell me I wasn’t fast enough. So I run faster, I preach louder, I pray harder… and I burn out.

How does Paul not burn out? His motivation has to be something other than fear as mine often is. All through I Corinthians 8 & 9, Paul describes the lengths he goes to to share the gospel. He describes the rights he gives up so as to not be a stumbling block to any. I don’t see fear in Paul’s writing as he describes the reward he receives. He isn’t fighting to maintain salvation or good standing. I believe he is living from a place of fully affirmed identity in Christ.

“What then is the [actual] reward that I get? Just this: that in my preaching the good news (the Gospel), I may offer it [absolutely] free of expense [to anybody], not taking advantage of my rights and privileges [as a preacher] of the Gospel. For although I am free in every way from anyone’s control, I have made myself a bond servant to everyone, so that I might gain the more [for Christ].” –I Corinthians 9:18,19 (AMP)

Paul has found his passion. Paul says that his reward is that he may present the Gospel free to everybody. When your reward is the very work that you do, you’ve found your passion. When I was wrestling through this picture of life as a marathon here is Jesus’ response to me:

“Stop living your life like it’s a race where you’re competing with other Christians to finish first. You’re not designed to hold back others. The ‘race’ is all about knowing me. Knowing I’ve finished everything. The end goal isn’t Heaven, it’s the cross. The goal of finish line is rest, not death.”

So operating under the idea that the prize is not salvation or heaven, we find that the appeal Paul is making is to grasp the fullness of the cross. The Amplified version puts the end of I Corinthians 9:24 like this: “…that you may lay hold [of the prize] and make it yours.”

Paul is urging his brothers and sisters, just as he still urges us today to lay hold of this gracious revelation of the cross so that in it we might find our passion. Paul isn’t urging competition in the church to motivate us to do better, he is calling us to be the God breathed intricate magnificent creations that we were made to be.

In Switzerland, I had the opportunity to take a week long bike trip across the country (no big deal). One of my favorite moments on the whole trip was when our trip leader Frans (who was an absolute biking stud) would come back from the top of a grueling hill and begin pushing (literally pushing) those that were in the back up the hill. For Frans, this trip wasn’t about flexing his muscles and proving he was able to finish first. Frans had done this before. Frans had the revelation of the finish line and his goal was now to get others to the finish line. May we receive the full revelation of the cross and be empowered to bike back down the hill to bring others into the truth and grace of Jesus Christ.

The Renovation is Complete

Those are the words I heard Him whisper to me as I was lying in bed the other night. “The renovation is complete.” After hearing that, I caught a glimpse of a house. I saw the huge living room with a two-story high ceiling and a wall of windows looking outside. To the right I could make out a loft area with a kitchen beneath it. It was an awesome house. So much of it is what I want in a house. Then I heard Him say, “It doesn’t matter what the house used to be like. The renovation is complete.”

So what do you do with a house that’s been completely paid off and completely renovated? Well, you enjoy it! You don’t look around for things to make it better. It’s finished. Everything you want in a house is there. So, you go plop down in your newly furnished living room and take a nap. That’s what I would do.

Then I heard Jesus say, “This isn’t just your house, this is you. Come rest in who you are.” There was nothing to be done. I was just free to lie down on the couch and take a nap. It feels so unproductive, yet isn’t it what we want? I’ve spent the past fifteen years of my life trying to do renovations on my house. Satan has been there putting in his two cents on the project too:

“Oh, Ryan, people won’t like that room, let’s lock that door. Oh, those windows let people see in too easily, lets pull the curtains. Those colors are too bold, let’s cover those up with this wallpaper. That fire is dangerous, you might burn your whole house down, let’s put that out.”

And I’ve listened. I’ve pulled the curtains, covered up the colorful walls, put out the fire, and locked the doors to the rooms I don’t think other people will like. And what I’ve come out with is a bunker instead of a home that is “safe” but also terribly boring. I’ve created a toned down version of myself that fits in. But the problem is I wasn’t made to look like everybody else. My relationship with God wasn’t designed to look like yours. My strengths aren’t the same as your strengths. My house looks different than yours.

Satan’s suggestions have been subtle, but directed attacks on my identity. They have been attempts to clip my wings and stamp out my passion. He has tried to rob me of my place as a son in the Kingdom. Try as he might though, my place in the Kingdom isn’t up for grabs. My identity isn’t hanging in the balance. I’ve been hidden in Christ and He’s been hidden in me. It’s a union that is spectacularly irreversible.

In the past several months, Jesus has been walking around taking down the blinds, relighting the fire in the fireplace, tearing down the wallpaper, and unlocking the doors to the places I’ve long held shut-up. And as He walks around, He looks at me with a smile that melts my shame and says, “Child, I love these windows. I chose those colors just for you. You love that fireplace. Oh, and that room that you’ve locked up, that’s one of my favorites.” There’s nothing for Him to fix in the house, just places to be uncovered.

So in this season Jesus has not been calling me forward to a place of newness; He’s been calling me backwards to the cross where newness was made complete. So wherever satan has told you to pull the curtains, I dare you to let the Son in. Your renovation is complete.