Archive for year: 2019

Author: Thomas White | Editorial Staff, Living Church of God

If you’re reading this, you’re probably in the Church of God, so you’ve heard sermons before. You’ve probably heard quite a few Bible studies, too, like the one Mr. Mario Hernandez gave for the most recent Assembly, in which he powerfully emphasized the command and the need for us to read from God’s word every morning and every evening.

Messages like that, instructional ones that point out things required of us, are given for what should be an obvious reason: Not everybody knows about every requirement. Case in point, I don’t remember ever hearing a sermon about how we shouldn’t eat one another, because that’s common knowledge—the world at large pretty much agrees that if I’m hungry, you’re not an option. But messages about not hating one another, for example, will always be needed, because although that’s required of us too, not everyone knows it—it’s a bit easier to forget than the law against cannibalism.

All humans are ignorant. We’re not to try to be, but it doesn’t make much sense to deny the fact that every one of us simply doesn’t know a lot of stuff, including a lot that’s biblical. The Bible’s not exactly light beach reading, and we wouldn’t need ministers if we could all just go through it and internalize everything we’ll ever need to know.

Yet how many of us, after hearing an enlightening message of instruction, feel terrible about having not known something? Maybe we haven’t thought to read the Bible every morning and evening. Maybe it never occurred to us that we need to keep a third tithe. Maybe it never crossed our minds that a daily part of our vocabulary might be a word we really shouldn’t say.

Nineveh’s Response

We didn’t know. But now that we do, what should our reaction be? For some, the first reaction is shame, as though they’re somehow stupid for not having made these connections themselves. Certainly, a godly sorrow is appropriate, because a sin committed in ignorance is still a sin, but if we sincerely ask God for forgiveness and determine to change whatever it is we’ve been doing or not doing, what’s the use of guilt-tripping ourselves over what, until recently, we had no idea was a problem?

Nineveh’s a good example of the right reaction. When it was made abundantly clear that major change was essential, the king of Nineveh didn’t wallow in guilt and think, “Well, we’ve been seriously missing something, so, I guess we’re terrible people who deserve whatever we have coming to us.” His response was almost the opposite—“let every one turn from his evil way and from the violence that is in his hands. Who can tell if God will turn and relent, and turn away from His fierce anger, so that we may not perish?” (Jonah 3:8-9).

What Defines Us

Nineveh accepted that they’d been ignorant of something important, and they determined to change. No “I can’t believe I didn’t know, I’m so stupid and awful”—just a desire to make the most out of what they now knew, and even, in their own way, an understanding that God is a merciful rewarder of heartfelt repentance.

So, if we hear a message that makes us aware of something wrong we’ve been doing, or something right we haven’t been doing, Nineveh might be a good place for our thoughts to go. God’s a whole lot more interested in our future than He is in our past, so we’re not defined by our ignorant mistakes—we’re defined by what we do about them.

Thomas White was one of the onsite Living Education students for the 2018-2019 semesters. He also has a Bachelor’s Degree in English. Thomas currently works as an Editorial Assistant for the Living Church of God. According to his wife, he eats pizza in entirely the wrong way.

Author: Thomas White | Editorial Staff, Living Church of God

Dr. Douglas Winnail’s recent assembly addressed that Satan uses worldly persecution to lure away those who aren’t unshakably grounded in the truth.

Scripture confirms this, and we all need to constantly guard against the anti-Christian nature of Satan’s world. But those of us who struggle with occasional or even frequent feelings of insecurity—who are just as harsh to ourselves as anyone in the world could ever be to us—may need to guard against something else, too.

While such individuals generally don’t like to talk about them, there are moments when being in the Church can make us uncomfortable. We don’t regret our calling—we’re grateful for it, truly. We know this is the right way, but we feel unworthy of walking it.

For those with frequent insecurity, this state of mind is too often the norm—pervasive and crushing. They look at their fellow firstfruits, and because most of our sins are committed in the dark quiet of our own private lives, everyone around them looks better at being good than they “know” they are.

What Tempts Us

Then comes a shock. You get out there—into college, the workforce, wherever—and you discover that people don’t hate you. Your beliefs that you feared would come across as insane to everyone are viewed as interesting by some. What you thought would be seen as self-righteousness is taken as respectability. People don’t think you’re bigoted or foolish, they think you’re fascinating. Intriguing. Good.

That’s truly hard to resist. Satan knows each of us better than we know ourselves, and in the case of those who feel they’ll never be as good as God wants them to be, the devil knows that they don’t particularly like themselves—but that they long to. He knows that, because they’re used to persecuting themselves, persecution from others may not so easily tempt them into leaving the Church.

But praise might.

Eventually, those with such insecurities eating at them may be offered an opportunity for something that will compromise God’s Way—perhaps by the very people who were praising them before. Assured by their human nature that it will make them into someone they, themselves, will finally be able to accept, the immediate, fascinating option is to bite into that fruit, because it looks and—temporarily—is delicious.

The other option doesn’t look quite so promising: resist, struggle, and go back to a Church filled with people they feel unworthy to be among. Pass the fruit up, and walk back into the daunting, lonely garden.

Our Father’s Promise

But if we allow ourselves to think deeply about our calling, God can lead us to a conclusion that becomes incredibly freeing.

As Mr. Richard Ames has often reminded us, Christ points out that none of us are truly good: “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God” (Matthew 19:17). In this life, we never will be fully “good.” We are on this earth to learn what “good” really means, because frankly, we haven’t a clue. If we did, we’d never consider anyone in the Church “better” than we are.

Those of us who tend to be insecure are in training to become what we most long to be: Worthwhile. Valuable. That’s the point of all this—to do our best, which isn’t much, and be rewarded with His best, His perfection. In his world, Satan offers us something that isn’t one billionth as rewarding, but is, as Yoda might say, “quicker, easier, more seductive.”

Our Father and His Son are the only Beings in existence who actually know what it is to be truly good, because it started with Them. Incredibly, they want to share it with us. The praise and esteem we must refuse now “are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18). We simply have to finish the race without keeling over. As long as we do, no matter what we place, our Father will carry our gasping, aching remains to the reward. He’s promised to make us good, one day. Right now, we have to show Him that we trust Him to complete the good work He’s started in us.

Dr. Winnail’s assembly message was absolutely true. Being grounded in the truth can protect us from faltering under persecution—even when that persecution comes from ourselves.

Thomas White was one of the onsite Living Education students for the 2018-2019 semesters. He also has a Bachelor’s Degree in English. Thomas currently works as an Editorial Assistant for the Living Church of God. According to his wife, he eats pizza in entirely the wrong way.