But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ.
~Philippians 3:7-8
I have always mentioned Philippians 3:7-8 as a theme verse of my life – that the overwhelming desire that has fueled and directed me in life is the singular passion to know Christ more intimately. I would listen to sermon after sermon in which the pastor or speaker would exhort from the Scriptures the importance of personal devotion to Christ – and how genuine worship to Christ is far more important than engaging in activity without knowing Him. Yet, as much as I had wanted to know Christ more intimately, I found it difficult to know how to do so. I’ve given myself to His work and committed myself to full-time ministry, and I’ve committed myself to knowing His will through the Scriptures and obeying His every word every time I encountered them. Yet, as much as I wanted to know His commandments, I wanted to know HIM. As much as I wanted to obey His will, there was a greater desire to delight in His person. I wanted to do all things for the glory of Christ, yet I was having trouble understanding what His glory really meant.
And so, during the tail-end of 2009, I set a resolution that I believed would help me get to that point: I resolved to, under the guidance and discipleship of the Holy Spirit, read the four gospels in their entirety…in the original Greek language. It was a daunting task, and some dismissed my desire to read the Bible in its original language consistently as being of “typically seminarian.” Yet, I didn’t set the task for the sake of sharpening my Greek (although it certainly did). I set the task for the sake of knowing Christ more intimately. So on December 15, 2009, while on a family retreat at Big Bear Lake, I opened my Greek Bible up to the gospel of Mark and began to read. First Mark, then John, then Luke, and finally Matthew. Each morning, I’d take a section of anywhere between five to fifteen verses and meditate upon the reading via journaling. Reading it in the Greek meant that I had to read a lot more slowly, and thus quiet times not only took much longer than they did before, but also took a much greater effort of concentration and intellectual interaction. Finally, on September 6, 2011, I finished reading the gospel of Matthew – and thus all four gospels in the language.
Quite frankly, it was the richest study through the Scriptures that I have yet to experience. As the Spirit would take me through each portion of reading, He would reveal to me more and more about the person of Christ. For the first time in my life, I found myself intently observing not only what Christ called me to do, but also His very ways. The more I observed what He said and what He did, the more I became aware of just exactly what my Savior is like. I’d see Him so moved with compassion towards those in need, yet so justly furious towards the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. I’d see Him so purposeful in completing His ministry tasks given by the Father, yet so accommodating to people. I’d observe His authority in His speaking alongside His humility in serving. I’d see Him show His hatred for sin, yet His love for sinners. I’d see Him so faithful to the Father’s task, and so sacrificial towards His Father’s sheep. I’d see Him in His humanity falling asleep through storms because of fatigue, yet also in His deity rebuking them. I’d observe Him preach with authority such that the crowds would hang onto to His very words, and yet also watch Him humbly was the filthy feet of His twelve disciples. I’d watch Him honor the government by paying taxes, and yet go against cultural protocol by conversing with a Samaritan woman. I’d listen to Him warn His disciples about the cost of following Him, yet also see Him gather them upon a mountain to give them rest from ministry. I’d notice His publicity in ministry, yet His privacy in prayer. I’d see how He would meet the needs of people, and yet not their expectations. I’d observe Him remain silent when mocked by His accusers, yet cry in anguish when forsaken by His Father. So holy He was, yet also so approachable. So resolved He was to finish His Father’s tasks, yet so interruptible He was by those who truly needed Him.
The more the Spirit led me through these accounts, the more and more my heart was convinced that there is none like Him. Throughout His life, He displayed authority, power, humility, discipline, integrity, courage, tenderness, resolution, faithfulness, conviction, wisdom, discernment, authority, and sacrificial service in a way that I have never witnessed. There was a combination of tenderness and toughness, grit and gentleness, faithfulness and flexibility, authority and abasement that made an impression on my heart that kept me both encouraged and off balance upon my observance. I’d see His absolute authority as God, and would be filled with both fear and joy. I’d see the perfection of His person, and would grow saddened upon realizing just how sinful I really am, yet so comforted by the fact that He lived the life that I never could. The more I read about Him, the more my heart was affected to truly love Him. I truly began to see, to a fuller extent, the true identity of my Savior. He truly is the Suffering Servant in whose steps I must walk, the Son of God in whom I must believe, the Son of Man before whom I must abase myself, and the Sovereign King whose kingdom I must live for.
