Sanctification

Many are familiar with the passage out of the Gospel of John that says, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life" (3:16 NRSV). We have learned that it was God's unfailing love, the sacrificial love in Christ Jesus that justifies us---makes it 'just as if nothing has ever happened'---in the sight of God. It is an unmerited gift of grace that we can do nothing to attain, earn, or get on our own. That, however, is not the end of the story.

I have heard time and time again that God loves us so much that he accepts us right where we are at; warts and all. I have also heard that God's love is so abundant, that though he accepts us where we are at, he refuses to leave us that way. The forgiveness, mercy, and grace that we experience in justification is just a foretaste of the grace that God has in store for us.

God really desires for us to be radically altered. This ongoing outpouring of grace into our lives-the grace that continues to transform us from the inside out-can be referred to as sanctification. It is the way that we are being renewed in the image of our creator and becoming more Christ-like. It is the ongoing gift of God that moves us towards perfect love.

I read a story this week (written by Misty Mowry) that goes something like this: A man went during the winter time and bought a house. The house he bought had a tree in the back yard, but because of the time of year it was leafless and had no characteristics that would distinguish it from any of the other nearby trees. The spring came after the man moved in and he began to notice that along with the fleshy green leaves that this tree was putting on, there were tiny pink blossoms that were beginning to appear. The man was excited and began to think that he would enjoy the flowering tree throughout the spring and summer. But with the spring came winds and rains and the blossoms fell off of the tree and littered his yard with pink. He thought that the tree was certainly no good. Later that summer, the man began to notice that the tree was producing green fruit about the size of a walnut. He went out and picked some and ate it. He couldn't believe how nasty, how bitter, how inedible the fruit was. He was now thoroughly convinced that the tree was worthless and that he would have to cut it down in the coming winter. The tree took no notice of the man and continued to soak up water from deep sources and bathe itself in the light of the sun. As fall came into being, the man again turned to his tree (thinking about the task that he had ahead of him) and noticed something odd. Where there once were tiny pink flowers too frail to withstand the wind and green fruit too unbearable to eat, now resided the most beautiful, fully red and ripe apples that he had ever seen.

The author makes the following observations. How often do we see ourselves or other people that have come to Christ flower with joy and excitement and ask ourselves if they can really hang on to it? How often do we witness the bitterness that is present in the Christian's heart (even our own) and wonder if they (or we) will ever bear good fruit? How often do we forget that the best fruit ripens later?

I want to be the tree in the story. I want to be so connected to the stream of life-giving water that I fully grow into the place that God is calling me. I want to bathe in the light of the Son until I am a reflection of Him in all that I do. I want to stay the course, despite opposition, until I bear the fruit that God has for me to bear. I want to be so radically altered by God's sanctifying grace that it is no longer me that people see, but rather it is Christ that they see in me.