But our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humble condition into the likeness of His glorious body, by the power that enables Him to subject everything to Himself (Philippians 3:20-21).

What is Jesus doing with all that power?  That is, the power that enables Him to subject everything to Himself?

This is the power that spoke the world into being.  That calmed raging storms with a simple command and handled diseases and demons as if they were roaches under his feet.

This is the power that bore all the evil the world can marshal and burst forth from the grave with the keys to death and hell firmly in his grasp.  What’s He doing with it now?Preparing.

Yes, preparing a place, but much more than that.  He’s preparing place holders.  He’s not just building mansions; He’s forming mansion dwellers.

He’s preparing to transform our humble, earthly bodies into conformity with the body of His glory.  He is changing the hardest thing of all to change (as if God needed to measure which was hardest):  fallen, broken humanity.

Have you had any reminders of brokenness lately?  Think about it.  Every evidence of physical or soul weakness – pain, sickness, failed vision, aging, failure, whatever – is a reminder of the glorious (literally) hope we have in a Savior who can subject even that to Himself.

He’s just that powerful.  And there is never a time when He isn’t.

Paul says the last enemy to be destroyed is death.  Our slow (or fast) march toward it is a declaration of this broken world’s last defense and defiance toward God.  But we can worship a Christ who is greater even than the power of death, disease, and aging.

Lazarus was just a warmup.  The widow’s son – an exhibition.  But the real event is coming soon.

Powerfully.

What is worship?  Your response to believing that all of God’s transforming power is ready for you – and that in His heart, you’re worth it.

For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death. For he “has put everything under his feet” (1 Corinthians 15:25-27).

How would it affect the way you react to things if you recognized everything as being under Jesus’ authority?  How would it change your attitude?  How would it liberate you to be a lifestyle worshipper, even in the most frustrating of circumstances?

This passage came alive to me a couple of days ago.  It contains a present-tense reality and a future anticipation.  The future anticipation is that one day Jesus Christ is going to present all things – including all enemies – under His authority to the Father.  And the last enemy, Paul says, that He will destroy is death.

So until then, what?

He reigns.  He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and all things are in subjection to Him.  And just as death appears to have the last word but doesn’t, so also the evil in this world may appear to have the last word and ultimate authority.  But that simply isn’t true.

This presents some interesting questions, such as how does Jesus reign?  What is our role as believers in that reign?  And since the last enemy to be destroyed is death, obviously His reign is not limited to tangible things or people or characters.  So what else does He have authority over?  In other words, what if ALL THINGS really means ALL THINGS?

Depression?  Yes.  Sickness?  Yes.  Poverty?  Yes.  Rejection?  Yes. (Fill in YOUR blank)?  Yes.

Now… if He reigns over these things, then why do they appear to have such power over us?  It’s either because:

1.  we have not exercised His authority,

2.  He sovereignly uses those things for a larger purpose in our lives, or

3.  we are not submitting our own authority to His.

What if we voluntarily aligned ourselves under His authority?  What if we chose to exercise our authority – really His authority – over the various situations we find ourselves in, knowing that the biggest enemies are not other people or the world, but those that can get inside our head and cause discouragement, despair, or deceit?

Making it Practical

The other day somebody made the mistake of driving their car in front of mine.  They didn’t do anything wrong, mind you – just drove their car and made me wait a bit when I was on a mission to get somewhere.  They made it through the red light.  I didn’t.

So I’m sitting at the light, and this verse pops into my head:  “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

“Yeah,” I replied to nobody-but-God.  “And just before that – traffic lights.”

“And,” the Spirit gently whispered, “aren’t traffic lights part of those ‘all things’ that are under My feet?”

It was the simplest of transactions.  A simple acknowledgement.

It.  Was.  Worship.

“Lord, I recognize that as being under your feet.  You reign over that.”

My attitude instantly changed.  I even felt it on a physiological level.

I got to the traffic light’s evil twin – Walmart (and the pharmacy at that).  More frustration.  Same spiritual transaction:  “Lord, I recognize that as being under your feet.  You reign over that.”

Again, a dramatic change – physically and emotionally felt instantly.

Did you know that the Bible says you and I are “seated with Christ in the heavenly places?”  Ever wonder what that means?  A whole lot more than traffic lights and Walmart, for sure.

But when I worship Jesus as the One who reigns over all things – including the frustrating things, the frightening things, the attacking things, the desperate things – all things – it is as if I am assuming my place with him there in the heavenly places.  And for a precious few seconds, I am reigning with Him, even while I drive the little blue truckster to the next stop.

What if that was God’s purpose all along – to teach us to reign by giving us on-the-job training?

So how are those lessons coming for you?

Lord, today I choose to remember…

How greatly I am forgiven because of how greatly I have sinned.  My life can show forth your handiwork because you have redeemed me from a pit too deep for me to climb out of it.  And you did so by getting into the pit with me.

How relentlessly you pursued me.  I ran and ran and ran, and you chased me still.

How patiently you have taught me.  Sometimes the same lessons over and over.  Sometimes sweet discoveries of beautiful truth for what seems to be the first time.  Sometimes re-awakenings of truth once learned, but somehow forgotten.

How completely you have loved me.  Your love is complete because YOU are complete, not because I have somehow earned it.

How painfully you endured the cross for me.  You despised the shame.  Your pain is my gain.

How powerfully you transform me.  I’m a tough case, but your grace is tougher still.

This is my communion.  This is my eucharist.  This is my worship.

Everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable (1 Corinthians 9:25).

On the medal stand, three world-class athletes receive a prize that pays homage to their natural abilities and even more so to the years of training they endured.  Every meal was eaten for the prize.  Every drink was for the prize.  Every step in the training regimen and a significant part of their lives off the field or court was also for the prize.

Nobody remembers who placed the wreath or hung the medal. All eyes are on the prize and the prize winners.  The one thing that had to be certain was that the “crowner” had the authority to certify the win.

But this isn’t about athletic wreaths and medals, or fatherly nods from commissioners or chairmen.  It’s about the Giver of imperishable crowns.

Today I celebrate my Crown-Giver, who, in showing off the splendor of his creation, crowns us with glory and majesty.

He adorns my life with covenant love and compassion.  Translation – He has the authority and power to make me feel completely understood and cause me to rest in His faithfulness to the love commitment He made to me.

My Crown-Giver places me on a stand of righteousness – the foundation of which is His grace and sacrifice, not anything of my own.

He breathes life – eternal and abundant life – into me during my times of testing so that as I endure, my Crown-Giver gives and gives and gives again.

He promises me a day – the Day of His Appearing – when He comes to impart to me His beautiful glory.  Not a glory that exalts my flesh or separates me from others, but a glory that we all share in His name and likeness.

Is there any wonder that the 24 elders cast their crowns before Him? Could it yet be a mystery why He is worthy of a life of utter abandon?  A life that prizes the prize?  And even more important… the Prize Giver?

I have a dog that worships me in the simplest of terms.

Make no mistake about it – she’s a dog and does dogly things.  She harasses the cat, chews on things, bargains for treats, and does a pretty good job delivering and nursing puppies.  But her one priority, above all else, is to follow me.

What’s funny is that she’s anything but sentimental about it.  Unlike Gabbi, her older counterpart, Gracie rarely looks devoted.  But wherever I go, there she wants to be.  In simplest terms, she has made me the center of her world.

This isn’t about dogs.  It’s about you.  About me.  About worship.  It’s about following Jesus – without a doubt the most common way He referred to a life discipleship, devotion, and worship.

You see it repeatedly in the gospels.  “Follow Me” with a promise attached.  “Follow Me” at the tail end of a stinging rebuke.  “Follow Me” as the solution to a perplexing question about life or theology.  “Follow Me” as an immediate, exclusive point of decision.

I have this crazy thought.  Maybe Jesus wants us to follow Him, too.  And maybe that’s a more significant expression of worship than a lot of the other forms we love to discuss or debate.  What could declare the worth of Jesus Christ more than steadily, simply going where He goes – of pursuing our sense of His presence and leadership?

Worshipping Jesus as a Follower

To follow Jesus means establishing Him as our highest calling or way of life.  Where He goes, we go.  Where others go, we only go if it’s in the context of following Jesus.  I worship Him when I forsake all other competing values.

Following Jesus means responding to His authority and obeying His directions.  Inevitably that means denying ourselves (Matthew 16:24-26) and embracing His agenda.  Worship in its purest form sometimes takes place in the grit of giving up my will for His.

Following Jesus means attending to Him – fixing our attention or meditating on Him.  It’s what the author of Hebrews had in mind when he referred to fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2).  To so adore Him that I keep Him central to all else that passes through my very distracting day is to worship Him.

Following Jesus means He goes first.  Sometimes Gracie tries to shortcut the following process by anticipating where I will go (actually sometimes I think she’s trying to lead me).  But she gets it right less than half the time.  Peter did that with Jesus on more than one occasion, and the results weren’t pretty.  Mine, of course, are no better.  Eager anticipation is one thing; presumption is another.  Worship means waiting for Him!

Following Jesus means imitating Him, in much the say way that little children follow the leader by imitating the leader.  “Follow God’s example in everything you do just as a much loved child imitates his father.  Be full of love for others, following the example of Christ who loved you and gave himself to God as a sacrifice to take away your sins. And God was pleased, for Christ’s love for you was like sweet perfume to him” (Ephesians 5:1-2, LB).  If imitation truly is the sincerest form of flattery, then doesn’t it make sense that loving like Jesus did is the sincerest form of worship?

Following Jesus means pursuing Him when we sense a distance – what A.W. Tozer called “following hard after God.”  Sometimes the most worshipful thing you can do is cling to Him, chase after Him, cry out in search of Him, or come home to Him, as the Prodigal Son did in Jesus’ parable.

I Have Decided

It’s not hip to refer to Christians as “Christians” anymore because the term has come to represent a lot of negative things or a lot of, well, nothing.  The most popular replacement these days is “Christ follower.”  Fair enough… if that’s what we’re actually doing.

But would you worship Jesus by following Him to the same kinds of places He went during His earthly sojourn?  To 40 days of loneliness, torture, and testing?  How about through the constant engagement with the needs of the neediest?  Or the nagging disapproval of the church power structure?  Or the teaching opportunities and speaking engagements?  Or pouring your life into 12 people who at times just didn’t seem to get it?  Or hours of agony in prayer?  Or a cross?

Any one of these points and many more requires a decision.  Either He’s worthy of following or He isn’t.  That’s the (less famous) decision Peter made when people had deserted Jesus by the hundreds and the Lord asked Simon and his companions, “Will you desert Me, too?”

“Lord, to whom shall we go?” Peter asked.  “You have the words of eternal life. Also we have come to believe and know that You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (John 6:68-69, NKJ).

That, friends, is moment-of-truth worship.

We love to talk about worship with words like “entering in.”  Following Jesus means never “exiting out.”  And the beauty of His sacrifice on the cross is that because of it, any believer, anytime, anywhere, can follow Christ, now.

What would that mean for you, now, in this moment?

The promise is so simple, so straightforward and true, it’s easy to dismiss it.  “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8).

What if He meant just what He said?  What if the circumstances and signals all around you were echoing the same refrain?  Maybe it’s time to take Him up on His promise…

When it seems as though you’re arguing with everybody in sight, it’s time to draw near.

When you’re lost in a war of wills, and it feels as though the whole world is pushing against you, it’s time to draw near.

When you life is a continuous array of unacceptable disappointments, it’s time to draw near.

When divorce or disowning is not an option, but murder is looking pretty good, it’s time to draw near.

When you’re jaded by jealousy, and others are enjoying the blessings you so desperately want for yourself, it’s time to draw near.

When you’re driven by desire, but frustrated by the wait, it’s time to draw near.

When you’ve prayed with no results, expected with no fulfillment, and believed with no reception, it’s time to draw near.

When you’ve partnered with the world and alienated yourself from God, it’s time to draw near.

When you’ve bowed up instead of bowing down, or exalted yourself instead of humbling yourself, it’s time to draw near.

When a glimmer of hope reminds you that His grace is greater than the worst of your sin, it’s time to draw near.

When the will of God is calling and the devil is resisting, it’s time to draw near.

When your hands are dirty and your heart is divided, it’s time to draw near.

When you find yourself laughing over what should make you weep, or sorrowful for what should bring you joy, it’s time to draw near.

When you’re highest ambitions have failed you and your pride has sabotaged your success, it’s time to draw near.

The beauty of His grace is that we are brought near by His blood, not by measures of human performance or the whims of circumstance.  All heaven stands ready for the ransomed soul who will simply say no to his pride… and draw near.

“In view of this, I also do my best to maintain always a blameless conscience both before God and before men” (Acts 24:16).

How is it possible to maintain a spirit of worship throughout your day?  Not just in the “religious spaces,” but in every space on your calendar?

As Paul defends himself from the charges against him, he almost in passing makes mention of a guiding principle that speaks to every area of his life.  “I do my best,” he says, “to maintain always a blameless conscience both before God and before men.”

Wow.  That’s about as clear an ovation as it gets.  And the key word is “always.”

Always blameless before God.  What does this require?  Listening to the Holy Spirit.  Prioritizing the Lord Jesus as our first love.  Practicing instant confession of sin, as soon as we are convicted by the Holy Spirit.  Enacting, by His power, real change (repentance) of those areas where we are convicted.

Always blameless before men.  Endeavoring, as Paul said elsewhere, to be at peace with all men (Romans 12:18).  Living with integrity, so that at no time can anybody point out a gap between what we profess and what we actually live. Satisfying the world’s standards of integrity and honesty, living free of closet sins and damning secrets.

The verse begins with the phrase, “in view of this.”  In view of what?  Verse 15 says that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked.  Translated, we have an appointment with God and an eternal destiny.  And our conscience is an internal compass that guides us in remaining sensitive and accountable now, before the fact.  It is an act of worship to maintain it.

My ovation today is to offer up to God a blameless conscience.  To the degree that my conscience accuses me, I will ask Him to cleanse it by His grace.  To the degree that my conscience guides me, I will respect and follow its guidance.  To whatever degree my conscience becomes desensitized, I will ask the Lord to create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.  This is my worship – my expression of love to Him this day.

Suppertime.  And it’s quite a little dinner party there in Bethany.  All twelve disciples of Jesus are there, as is Jesus Himself, for whom the dinner was made. 

Curiously enough, Lazarus – the friend of Jesus who never uttered a recorded word – is there, too.  And this is after his four-day journey to the pit.

Martha is there, of course, being Martha, and making things happen.

And in comes Mary.  She’s carrying an alabaster box.  With all the movement and conversation as people recline at a Middle Eastern dinner table, I doubt very many people notice her at first.  But that’s OK.  Mary wasn’t interested in being noticed.  She was interested in something – and Someone – much greater.

That said, no one could escape the fragrance that filled the room.  It penetrated everything, everyone, everywhere.

Is that nard?

Nard it is.

That’s expensive stuff.  To say nothing of the now-broken box that carried it.

Where is that coming from?

The feet of Jesus, and the one who is so lavishly anointing them with what is doubtless her most valuable possession.

Broken.  Spilled out.  All for the love of Jesus.

Cue the Critic

Human nature requires, it seems, for something so pure, so lavish, so passionate to invite a second opinion.

“What a waste,” Judas mutters.  “This could have been sold for 300 denarii and given to the poor.”

Oh, the poor.  Always the poor.  The political cue ball for anybody to make a self-righteous or self-serving point.  John makes sure everybody knows Judas didn’t give a hoot about the poor; he just wanted Mary’s money.

(Just for perspective, a denarius was the Roman version of a dime.  Doesn’t seem like much, until you consider that a denarius was a day’s wages for a Roman soldier.  Want to compare?  Take your annual income and figure what 82% of it would be.)

Stop the Crossfire

“Leave her alone.”

Whoa.  This is Jesus doing the talking, and He’s in no mood.  The same Jesus who wept at Mary’s grief.  The same Jesus who promised resurrection to Martha.  The same Jesus who called Lazarus from the grave with success.  The same Jesus who would soon accept the praises and rejection of throngs of people, die like a criminal, then rise from the dead.

This same Jesus – the friend of the poor, the sinners, the common man – is in no mood for muttering or murmuring.  “Back off!” He says.

Then he adds:  “For you always have the poor with you, but you do not always have Me” (John 12:8).

Translation:  You can do charity anytime.  But you don’t always have Me.

Jesus is saying at this point that there is a place for extravagance.  For ridiculously pouring out that which we treasure most – even if by human calculations it could do more good somewhere else.

The Heart of the Lavisher

Back to Mary for a minute.  What could prompt such a passionate expression?

Start with incredible gratitude.  Mary recognizes the surpassing value of what the Lord has done for her.  Do you?  Or has it been too long, you eyes dimmed by time and repetition of the story, or distracted by life?  Abundantly grateful people seem to look for abundantly extravagant ways to express the depths of their gratitude.

Mary also has some insight into the purpose of Jesus’ coming in the first place.  I think that’s why Jesus wept at the tomb of her brother.  He was brokenhearted that Mary was the only person on the planet that seemed to get it.  With Martha banging the pots and the disciples quibbling over who was the greatest, Mary sees the stunning depths to which Jesus descended to die for the bangers and the quibblers.  Such grace.  Such love.  And in Mary, such worship.  How long has it been since you fully grasped the cross and victorious resurrection of the Lord Jesus?

Mary has a love for Jesus that excels all material possessions or aspirations.  Crazy love.  After all, He was ridiculously precious to her.  To pour out such value to any other love would cheapen it.  But in offering it to Jesus, she only increased its value and influence.  Just as the fragrance filled the room, so Mary’s influence continues to this day to point people to a love worth giving our all to.

Add to that a sense of urgency.  Jesus wouldn’t be around forever; I think Mary knew that.  If ever there was a time to express, to take action, to declare in an act of worship who her faith was in, this was the night.  Something about the shortness of time called her out.  And it will do so for you as well.

Beyond Your Abundance

It’s one thing to worship Jesus in the poverty of your spirit or possessions.  It’s another to worship Him beyond the abundance of your possessions.

In a sense, the perfume “died” – its usefulness gone once the fragrance filled the room and the oil covered Jesus’ feet..  What can you do with my possessions – tangible and intangible – to offer them up in such a way that they “die” – even as their fragrance fills the room and they testify to the supreme worth and witness of the Lord Jesus?

What little we know of Mary, a scene like this is never repeated.  Your opportunities may not be, either.  But sometimes life presents us with those opportunities to offer Jesus the ovation of extravagant worship.

Ridiculous?  Yes.

But He is worth it, isn’t He?

An amazing “videovational”… enjoy!

The Lord’s  lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,

For His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22-23).

A day in the life of someone who applauds the Lord as a lifestyle begins and ends, not with my faithfulness, but with confidence in the faithfulness of God.

It means knowing that every day is a new expression of His covenant love,  regardless of my performance.

It means knowing He feels what I am feeling, and has new expressions of covenant love and compassion every morning waiting for me to experience.

He is faithful, and His faithfulness is great.

So on this day, to offer Him my Ovation, I begin it with the search for this day’s expression of covenant love, compassion, and faithfulness from the Lord.  The beauty of it all (and the sadness of it all) is that He is expressing it, whether I look for it or not.  That is the definition of faithfulness.

I invite you to join me.  Make today a day to celebrate the faithfulness, compassion, and covenant love of the Lord.

He has not stopped loving you (reminder:  this was written by someone who had seen an entire generation devastated by the judgment of God).  Yet even Jeremiah could declare that God’s covenant love never ceases.

He has not forgotten what it’s like for you to be you.  The fact that He’s compassionate means He feels your joy and my pain, and vice-versa, at the same time.

Let go of the hardness, the doubt, the fear.  Let Him love you with today’s fresh expression of His tender goodness.  Receive it, and believe in it, even before you see it with your eyes.

Let’s applaud Him together for His steadfast love and tender mercies, knowing that like the manna in the wilderness, there will be even more tomorrow.