Morbid and marvelous

Trina and I started a new devotional last night. It's over the books of Ruth and Esther. It starts with Ruth. This was our second time reading the four chapters of Ruth straight through, switching translations to get different perspectives and what not. It was an incredible time last night. God revealed so much to us.

Something I kept thinking of after last night was Ruth 1:16-17:

"But Ruth replied, "Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely if anything but death separates you and me."

Most of us have heard that before. We've heard it in marriage vows, and maybe we've heard the story before, too. After reading it a few times though in different translations, it seemed to bold itself upon the flimsy pages of my Bible.

Trina and I shared our opinions of themes in this story of Ruth. One we talked about for a while was the difference between BEING faithful, and ACTING faithful. In our own words, Ruth actually was faithful. Faithfulness was not something she did, it was something she was.

We talked about applicable lessons from what we read, and how faithfulness is obviously something we should possess as Christians. Our faithfulness applies primarily to God. After that, it basically all falls into place.

So Ruth 1:16-17 was Ruth's response to her mother-in-law, Naomi, when she told Ruth she could leave and return to Moab because Ruth's husband had died. That was a huge thing. Naomi released Ruth of the burden to carry on her husband's name. That's unheard of. But Ruth denied herself the "freedom" Naomi charged her with. And she responded as the faithful woman she was. She didn't just act faithful like the other daughter-in-law of Naomi, Orpah.

Trina and I pondered Ruth's "vow" to Naomi. I felt like God was asking me if I would make that same vow to Him. If I would say, "God, where you go, I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people. Where you die, i will die, and there I will be buried."

In a sense, when I gave my life to God, I already said those things. But let's be real. It's something we have to do over and over again. We need to constantly come back to the altar, because we constantly go back to the "offerings" we set before Him and take 'em back home.

So, what about saying to God, "Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried"? That couldn't be applicable. God can't die.

But the fact is, Jesus died. Yes, He rose. But He died. So, if I say to God, "Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried." What am I saying?

Galations 2:20 says, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live..." There's more to it, but consider that. We're called to be "Crucified" with Christ. To die with Him.

Romans 6:1-14 goes on and on about how we are dead to sin, and made alive in Christ.

Romans 6:4 says, "We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life."

It's a theme in the New Testament to "die to sin." We are to bury our sin... we're made alive in Christ, and we died to our old lives. Our sinful nature. We're made new.

So I look at myself. And when I say to God, "Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried." I'm questioned with, "Will you? Will you die where I have died? Will you be buried there?" Will I really put to death every single part of my "old self"? Will I really bury the things that don't belong in my life as a daughter of the Lord, and leave them buried? I said before in a blog a few weeks ago, I used to want to be an archaeologist. Well, sometimes I love digging up things I buried myself. When I make this vow to God, these questions are set before me. Will I leave what is dead, beneath the dirt I bury with?

I feel increasingly challenged with this. I'm never done dying... because I'm never done living. I'm never able to live enough. Never able to gain enough Life of God. The more I die to myself, the more I live to Christ. And I just can't die enough. What a morbid and marvelous concept.