“I’ve given up everything for this. It means everything to me. It’s why I work hard. I got what I came here to do. I got a gold medal; I have what I want.”

Tears have a funny way of releasing things. Lindsey Vonn’s tears were no different. As she stood at the bottom of the mountain at Whistler, Olympic Gold as her prize, the Women’s Downhill Champion’s tears shone brightly in the sun.

She must have been thinking of all the years she spent training for this moment. She must have been thinking of all the expectations that were placed on her shoulders as the favorite for these Games. She must have been thinking of the pressure that mounted as she sustained a shin injury just two weeks before the Games began.

She had been single-minded in her goal of becoming the world’s best women’s downhill skier. She had disciplined her body and her emotions for years as she trained for these Games. And she had persevered through intense suffering and setback. And now she stood as Olympic Champion.

Simply put, Lindsey’s tears were tears of joy, and release, and satisfaction. She had every right to shed them, for this was her moment, one to be applauded and admired. Her tears were the sweet, crowning jewels of her Olympic glory.

Here’s a truth we all know, and one Lindsey either knows already or will soon discover: Olympic glory fades. So does the glory from being a successful preacher, or pastor, or writer, or musician, or businessman, or businesswoman, or student. We all strive for perishable wreaths at different times in our lives. And we strive for them in vain.

You know well the passage where Paul compares himself to an athlete. He writes:

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable (1 Cor 9:24-25).

This echoes another passage, perhaps penned by Paul as well:

Let us lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross (Heb 12:1-2).

So we gain an imperishable wreath when we are single-minded in our pursuit: to obtain the prize promised by the gospel. We gain an imperishable wreath when we lay aside the sin that clings to us, exercising self-control in all things. And we gain an imperishable crown when we persevere in our race, enduring suffering as it comes, following Jesus every step of the way.

We may imagine that the bottom of our mountains will bring tears as joy and relief as well. But the tears we shed are simply an expression of a deeper longing within us, a longing that will one day be satisfied. Our tears today are just like anything in this world:  shadows of a brighter reality, or echoes of a sweeter song.

Our prize is a place with a Person, and this Person will “wipe away every tear from their eyes … neither shall there be crying … for the former things have passed away” (Rev 21:4). It is in that day that we will wear our imperishable crowns of righteousness, because of Him and for His sake. And in that day we will be satisfied by our greatest joy: Jesus.

Congratulations to you, Lindsey. Your achievement is inspiring and well-deserved. And as the glory of your triumph begins to fade, may you find (or continue to find) Jesus as your imperishable wreath. And may we all see your inspiring example as a reflection of the higher call we have on our lives. May we run the race with single-mindedness, exercising self-control, disciplining our bodies for the sake of the gospel, and persevering through suffering, all so that we might obtain the prize we seek: eternity in the presence of the One whose glory never fades.

[Editor's Note: Pastor Colin Smith continues his Christmas season devotional to help you reflect on Jesus’ glory by taking a broad look at all that God has promised and accomplished in Him. The readings follow the pattern of his current sermon series, “The Plan: God’s Design For the Universe and Your Place In It.” You can read, hear or watch these sermons as they are posted at Unlocking the Bible.]

***

Christ confronted Satan and triumphed where Adam failed. The serpent tempted Adam and Eve three times, and here, Satan tempts Jesus three times. The parallels are obvious: Don’t miss the differences.

The environment was clearly different. Adam and Eve faced temptation in a garden with food supplied on the trees all around them. Christ faced temptation in a desert, where there was no food, and where He was hungry.

The initiative was different. Satan comes looking for the man and the woman in the Garden. But Christ goes after Satan in the desert. The Spirit led Him into confrontation with the devil. Christ stalked Satan out, drew him into the open and initiated the confrontation.

The greatest difference was the outcome. Where Adam failed, Christ triumphed. Having plied Christ with his most exquisite temptation, Satan was forced into retreat, “until an opportune time” (Luke 4:13). Satan knew that overcoming the Holy One by temptation was no longer an option.

Christ’s triumph over temptation has huge significance for us. Adam’s failure brought misery. He passed on the effects of His failure to all who derive their life from him. By nature, we belong to Adam who failed. We share in his failure. We are “under sin” (Romans 3:9).

But Christ’s triumph brings hope. As Adam passed on the effects of his failure to all who derive their life from him, so Christ passes on the effects of His triumph to all who draw new life from Him. By grace and through faith we belong to Christ who triumphed. We share in His triumph. We are “under grace” (Romans 6:14).

The weakness of Adam who failed is in you, so be on your guard against temptation today. But the strength of Christ who triumphed is also in you by the Holy Spirit, so when you are tempted today, stand firm.

O loving wisdom of our God, when all was sin and shame,
A second Adam to the fight, and to the rescue came.

Oh wisest love, that flesh and blood, which did in Adam fail,
Should fight again against the foe, should fight and should prevail.

John Henry Newman, “Praise to the Holiest in the Height.”

Are you SAD? from Puritan Reformed on Vimeo.

[Editor's Note: Pastor Colin Smith continues his Christmas season devotional to help you reflect on Jesus’ glory by taking a broad look at all that God has promised and accomplished in Him. The readings follow the pattern of his current sermon series, “The Plan: God’s Design For the Universe and Your Place In It.” You can read, hear or watch these sermons as they are posted at Unlocking the Bible.]

***

The New Testament affirms three central truths about our Lord Jesus Christ: That He is God, He is man, and He is holy.

The angel announced to Mary that Jesus would be “The Son of the Most High,” and “The Son of God” (Luke 1:32, 35). Matthew records that He is “God with us” (Matthew 1:23). John describes Him as the Speech of God who became flesh (John 1:14). Think about that: God spoke His promise in words, and when His Word became flesh, His promise was delivered.

Only God can fulfill what God has promised, so you can give thanks today that Jesus Christ is God.

And you can give thanks that He is man. The angel said to Mary, “The One to be born will be called the Son of God” (Luke 1:35). Christ was born as we are born, to live our life, and die our death. He came to us, and stands with us, to act for us.

Only as God can He deliver what God has promised. Only as man can He deliver what God has promised to us.

The angel also announced that He is Holy. “The Holy One to be born will be called the Son of God” (Luke 1:35).

Here is something that has not been seen before, or since: A man who is holy by nature. This man belongs in heaven by right and, because He is God, He has the capacity to bring others there with Him.

The union of God and man in Jesus Christ, the Holy One, opens the door of hope for us. Calvin states this beautifully:

In short, since neither as God alone could he feel death, nor as man alone could he overcome it, he coupled human nature with divine that to atone for sin he might submit the weakness of the one to death; and that, wrestling with death by the power of the other nature, he might win victory for us (Institutes 2:12.3).

Only the God-man could do that. Rejoice in His victory today!

David Garner is the Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. His blurb for Tim Keller’s newest book Counterfeit Gods helped me today:

Combining biblical theology with experienced surgery on the soul over the years in modern Manhattan, Pastor Tim Keller performs an M.R.I. of our hearts and graphically exposes its results… Read this volume, but only if you dare submit your heart to the surgical probe of the Gospel… And like any good surgeon, Keller doesn’t leave us merely exposed, but compellingly points us to the cure: the One exposed, ravaged, ruined and resurrected for us.

To think of Jesus as “the One exposed, ravaged, ruined, and resurrected for us” is the great gospel-soaked reminder I needed this morning.

“In my place condemned He stood and sealed my pardon with His blood, hallelujah what a Savior!”

I often get asked how I personally became acquainted with the pervasive influence of idolatry in the human heart. 

Like many younger ministers I worked far too many hours, never saying “no” to anyone’s request for my pastoral services. When salary increases were offered to me, I turned them down. When administrative help was offered to me, I declined. I was quite proud of being the kind of person who worked very hard, never complained, and never asked for any help. This regularly brought me into conflict with my wife, who rightly contended that I was neglecting my relationships to her and to my young sons. It also led to health problems, although I was only in my early thirties.

Nevertheless, I continued to feel that the way I was living was noble and good. I believed I was sacrificially committed to the ministry of the Word. I was especially delighted to make sacrifices that nobody saw — not my people or even my family. That made me feel most noble of all. If all this created some problems for me personally, wasn’t that just evidence of how truly devoted I was? It was a very dangerous situation. My future was bleak, though I didn’t know it. In the short run, this kind of ministry workaholism is often rewarded by admiring people all around.

Some well-meaning friends, however, saw the problem and literally “laid the law” on me, showing me that I was violating the commandments of taking Sabbath and of honoring my family. I usually responded with incremental changes that never endured. Others used the modern technique of self-esteem — “You need to think of yourself; you need to do things that make you happy.” I despised that advice as terribly selfish.  I valued self-sacrifice.

It wasn’t until I began to search my heart with the Biblical category of idolatry that I made the horrendous discovery that all my supposed sacrifices were just a series of selfish actions. I was using people in order to forge my own self-appreciation. I was looking to my sacrificial ministry to give me the sense of “righteousness before God” that should only come from Jesus Christ. People make idols out of money, power, accomplishment, or moral excellence. They look to these things to “save them” — to give them the sense of purity, value, and acceptability that only Jesus can give. In my case, I was using ministry (and my own people) in this way.

Without the category of idolatry — a good thing turned into a pseudo-salvation — I would never have been able to see myself. Nothing but the concept of counterfeit gods could have blasted me out of my illusion of virtue and superiority. I thank God for this life-saving insight — though I still struggle mightily with the implementation of what I’ve learned.

This past Saturday I took my three oldest sons to see the movie Where the Wild Things Are. Some Christians are all exercised about the fact that the movie might be too frightening for children. They’re wrong. The movie is not a great one, but that’s not the reason why. As a matter of fact, Where the Wild Things Are fails because it’s not scary enough for your kids.

And there’s something there Chrisians can learn about children, horror, and the gospel.

From the time my sons were babies I’ve read to them the Maurice Sendack classic picture book. They love it, and so do I. They’d sit attentively through Goodnight Moon, but they’d squeal “Let the wild rumpus start!” whenever we’d journey with Max to the place of the wild things.

Children, it turns out, aren’t as naive about evil as we assume they are. Children of every culture, and in every place, seem to have a built-in craving for monsters and dragons and “wild things.” The Maurice Sendak book appeals to kids because it tells them something about what they intuitively know is true. The world around them is scary. There’s a wildness out there. The Sendak book shows the terror of a little boy who is frightened by his own lack of self-control, and who conquers it through self-control, by becoming king of all the wild things.

The Sendak book, with its muted words but fantastic drawings, achieves this sense of wonder and wildness. The movie doesn’t. That’s because the movie tames the wild things too much. It’s not that they’re too scary for children. It’s that they’re not believable as scary. The dialogue sounds like it was lifted from an old episode of Thirtysomething, as the beasts talk through their psychodramas and jealousies and interpersonal offenses with one another. Kids will be entertained because the special effects are good. But they won’t “get it” deep inside like they do the book.

I’m amazed though by the way some Christians react to things like this. They furrow their brow because the Max character screams at this mother, and bites her, even though this is hardly glorified in the movie. They wag their heads at how “dark” the idea of this wild world is. Of course it is “dark.” The universe is dark; that’s why we need the Light of Galilee.

Where the Wild Things Are isn’t going to be a classic movie the way it is a classic book. But the Christian discomfort with wildness will be with us for a while. And it’s the reason too many of our children find Maurice Sendak more realistic than Sunday school.

Too many of our Bible study curricula for children declaw the Bible, excising all the snakes and dragons and wildness. We reduce the Bible to a set of ethical guidelines and a text on how gentle and kind Jesus is. The problem is, our kids know there are monsters out there. God put that awareness in them. They’re looking for a sheep-herding dragon-slayer, the One who can put all the wild things under His feet.

Your kids might be bored by the Wild Things movie. They won’t be bored by the Wild Things book. It’s their story, and mine. But read them the story of Max and his monsters, and then show them the Story they were knit together to love.

And let the wild rumpus start.

D.G. Hart offers some advice to American religious history scholars. And believe it or not, he’s actually defending the Religious Right in America (well, “defending” might be too strong a word).

Here’s an excerpt:

What this historical perspective means is that the Religious Right is simply in continuity with a swath of American Protestantism that many religious historians regard not as extremist but as mainstream, tolerant, and respectable. Granted, the Religious Right had the bad timing to show up after many Protestants had capitulated to some sort of secular America, and they did not always show an awareness of how America had changed not just religiously but demographically after the 1960s. (This was actually the point of the Religious Right’s complaints – they didn’t like what the nation was becoming. Since when is complaining so scary or unAmerican?) But to portray people who differ little from previous generations of Americans as those who nurture terrorist ideas and actions is to show a real ignorance of the field in which you are supposed to be an expert.

Read the whole thing at the Front Porch Republic.

Over at the Reformation21 blog Derek Thomas has a helpful, and sobering post on hell. Thomas writes in response to the important question of whether or not a loving God would ever condemn anyone to hell. He answers in the affirmative based on “three inviolable truths taught in Scripture” (italics his):

1. Hell exists.
2. Hell is certain for all who reject Jesus Christ.
3. Hell is a just punishment for sin.

Thomas concludes:

It would be nice to think that hell does not exist, or that men and women may avoid it even if they do not have faith in Jesus Christ. But such thoughts are a delusion and, as J. I. Packer writes: “It is really a mercy to mankind that God in Scripture is so explicit about hell.”

Read the whole thing.

“Many will say they are loyal friends, but who can find one who is truly reliable?” Proverbs 20:6, NLT

A spirit of self-assurance is a gospel-denying, self-deceiving, friendship-destroying mentality. It is natural to say to ourselves, “I’m doing my part. They should be grateful.” It is supernatural to say to ourselves, “I place myself under the judgment of the Word of God. I humble myself. Even if the other person is wrong, that gives me no right to assert myself. No matter what the other person does, no matter how much I am misunderstood and misjudged, I will remain in the fear of the Lord, I will entrust myself to God.” True friendship thrives when, before God, each one is more aware of his debts than his rights.

If God has given you reliable friends, and surely he has, hold them close to your heart. Each one is a rare treasure.