What we commit
That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day. - 2 Tim 1:12
The issue of commitment to cause is a pertinent issue in the world. We are often told to be committed in our relationships, in our work, in our studies, in our endeavours. But we are often found wanting in this area of life called committment for various reasons. It is difficult to be commit when a thousand things seem to be falling all over you and demand your priorities. At this stage, there is this layer of consideration called 'feelings'. Questions come in: 'I can't commit cos there is no feeling', 'I can't feel my faith calling me to commit', 'I dun feel like committing' etc etc etc.
But let's go back to another fundamental issue: the cross. When we come face to face with the truth of the crucification of Christ, we are presented with a choice to make: we either recognise its implications and bring ourselves, our passions, and all that we are, to be crucified with Christ so that we might live within the sound of His voice and the feel of His heart, or we walk away from the cross and live feeling alienated from God and believe that we can be close to God without dying to ourselves. The latter is an easier path to walk and indeed, it may be the case that a lot of believers are walking down this path. The former path requires us to die to our desires and allow the truth to triumph in our lives.
Now this is difficult. Very often, our emotions and feelings dictate what we decide. We cannot but ignore our feelings, when something happens in our lives. We say we 'cannot' feel God in the midst of pain and suffering. We 'cannot' feel our faith when we are presented with difficult situations and trials. Our prayers go unanswered and it doesn't seem as though it's making any difference in our lives. We are dry and we dun know why, we just 'cannot' feel Him. And sometimes, or rather, most of the time, truth hurts.
To illustrate the difficulty of the former path, let's use one illustration. Daniel Goleman tells the story of Gary and Mary Jane Chauncey’s eleven year old daughter Andrea, confined to a wheelchair by cerebral palsy. Passengers on a train that crashed in a river in Louisiana, the Chauncey’s first concern was for Andrea. As waters engulfed the train, they managed to push Andrea through a window to rescuers. They then perished. In this instance, both Gary and Mary Jane Chauncery died to their selves. They committed their lives to protect their child. Going by emotions and instincts, I think I would have done otherwise. But ask yourselves, are we able to do the same when it comes to our commitment with God?
In the midst of our struggle to commit, with the deeper layer of feelings and emotions, we ask then 'where is God?' But yet something has to die somewhere. Either we subject our feelings to lies, or we conform them in truth. Paul understood this clearly when he wrote to Timothy that he was convinced God can guard what he had entrusted to Him.
One last illustration. Suppose I am going down to Changi Village to run the Sundown Marathon. And I left my baggage at an obscure bench by the beach, only to find it missing when I finished the run, do I have the right to blame the organisers for letting someone took the bag? But on the contrary, if I had left my baggage with the deposit corner, and found that they had lost it, dun the organisers have the responsibility to trace it back or compensate, since I have left the stuff under their charge? Similarly, if one has not committed their lives and die to themselves, on what ground is God responsible for them 'not feeling' their faith and 'not feeling God is near'?
But God is faithful, and He will guard whatever we have entrusted to Him. What we commit to God, is what God will guard.
The issue of commitment to cause is a pertinent issue in the world. We are often told to be committed in our relationships, in our work, in our studies, in our endeavours. But we are often found wanting in this area of life called committment for various reasons. It is difficult to be commit when a thousand things seem to be falling all over you and demand your priorities. At this stage, there is this layer of consideration called 'feelings'. Questions come in: 'I can't commit cos there is no feeling', 'I can't feel my faith calling me to commit', 'I dun feel like committing' etc etc etc.
But let's go back to another fundamental issue: the cross. When we come face to face with the truth of the crucification of Christ, we are presented with a choice to make: we either recognise its implications and bring ourselves, our passions, and all that we are, to be crucified with Christ so that we might live within the sound of His voice and the feel of His heart, or we walk away from the cross and live feeling alienated from God and believe that we can be close to God without dying to ourselves. The latter is an easier path to walk and indeed, it may be the case that a lot of believers are walking down this path. The former path requires us to die to our desires and allow the truth to triumph in our lives.
Now this is difficult. Very often, our emotions and feelings dictate what we decide. We cannot but ignore our feelings, when something happens in our lives. We say we 'cannot' feel God in the midst of pain and suffering. We 'cannot' feel our faith when we are presented with difficult situations and trials. Our prayers go unanswered and it doesn't seem as though it's making any difference in our lives. We are dry and we dun know why, we just 'cannot' feel Him. And sometimes, or rather, most of the time, truth hurts.
To illustrate the difficulty of the former path, let's use one illustration. Daniel Goleman tells the story of Gary and Mary Jane Chauncey’s eleven year old daughter Andrea, confined to a wheelchair by cerebral palsy. Passengers on a train that crashed in a river in Louisiana, the Chauncey’s first concern was for Andrea. As waters engulfed the train, they managed to push Andrea through a window to rescuers. They then perished. In this instance, both Gary and Mary Jane Chauncery died to their selves. They committed their lives to protect their child. Going by emotions and instincts, I think I would have done otherwise. But ask yourselves, are we able to do the same when it comes to our commitment with God?
In the midst of our struggle to commit, with the deeper layer of feelings and emotions, we ask then 'where is God?' But yet something has to die somewhere. Either we subject our feelings to lies, or we conform them in truth. Paul understood this clearly when he wrote to Timothy that he was convinced God can guard what he had entrusted to Him.
One last illustration. Suppose I am going down to Changi Village to run the Sundown Marathon. And I left my baggage at an obscure bench by the beach, only to find it missing when I finished the run, do I have the right to blame the organisers for letting someone took the bag? But on the contrary, if I had left my baggage with the deposit corner, and found that they had lost it, dun the organisers have the responsibility to trace it back or compensate, since I have left the stuff under their charge? Similarly, if one has not committed their lives and die to themselves, on what ground is God responsible for them 'not feeling' their faith and 'not feeling God is near'?
But God is faithful, and He will guard whatever we have entrusted to Him. What we commit to God, is what God will guard.
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