A blog by Cyril Nishimoto
So I try to preach the gospel to myself each day. I go over the relational gospel message and pray it in during my morning prayer time. I also listen to sermons that have the relational gospel message in it, in my car on my way to work. And for a few months last year I listened every day to songs and hymns with the gospel at their core, like “How Deep the Father’s Love For Us” and “Rock of Ages.” There are some verses I’ve meditated on, such as Romans 8:31-39, but it’s been hard to keep them in my daily routine. In any case, whether I do something regularly or add something temporarily for a season, I think it’s all making a difference.
One of the changes I’ve been noticing is that I actually respond to situations more with the idea that the only eyes that matter are my Father God’s. I have been in situations where in the past I may have done or not done something because I was afraid of what other people would think of me. Now, if I’m sure it’s something God wants me to do, I just do it even if I know I may catch some flak for it.
Last year, being sure that God wanted me to do it, I sent e-mails to a guy of Jewish background I’ve known for about 20 years to point him to God, as I’d done in the past. But this time, I got an extremely negative reaction I’d never gotten before, from anyone. In phone messages and e-mails, he lit into me, calling me such things as a “hypocrite,” “anti-Christian,” and “self-righteous,”and telling me never to bring God into our conversations again. It was quite a shock.
Angry and upset, I wanted to defend myself. So I thought of all kinds of ways to counter his allegations. But after calming down, I realized that I needed to focus on the gospel—that I am so loved and valued by my Father God that He would sacrifice His greatest treasure, His Son, for me despite all the things I’d said, done, or had inside me that were offensive to Him. And I am now a completely accepted and infinitely loved son of my Father God, like Christ, because of Christ’s sacrifice—living and dying for me.
So I didn’t need to defend myself or correct what I thought were outrageous distortions. In the view of the only eyes that mattered—my Father God’s—I was not an anti-Christian, self-righteous hypocrite (although I do realize that I have those tendencies in me). I was an incredibly loved, well-pleasing son of God. And if Christ could allow outrageous distortions about himself to go uncorrected—as he went through without protest the incredibly humiliating public shame of being crucified like a common criminal on a cross—I could do the same for him.
And if the Father and the Son could forgive me for my offensiveness to them, I could forgive this guy for his offensiveness to me.
So what did I do? I restrained myself from responding and just waited—something very unusual to do for the lawyer in me who usually feels compelled to put things right ASAP. The wisdom of that seems to have been borne out because after over a month of silence, he initiated contact because he needed my help. And he has since asked me to pray for him. And following that, he admitted I was right and he was wrong about one thing among others that had provoked his derogatory epithets. And to top it off, he recently told me he would let me counsel him on putting his faith, trust, love, and sense of safety and security in God because of a life-threatening condition he’s facing. I don’t know if his heart is really turning to God or if he just wants my attention and sympathy. But at least I can bring God back into our conversations.
So in this case, the gospel being worked into my heart brought about not only something good for me, but also something good for someone else. This may not always be the case, but I think that what it does, in any case, is it allows God to do the work that only He can do. And that is always something good. . . and often quite amazing and even miraculous.
I am experiencing other changes as well, as I work the gospel into my heart. With gospel-centered sensibility, I have been trying to get into the practice of getting past the things that ordinarily divide people—race and ethnicity, gender, class, economic status, social standing, culture, religion--and relating to people at the core—as spiritually flawed, broken, and corrupted, yet completely loved human creatures who have the potential of becoming glorious, beautiful, and awe-inspiring sons and daughters of the Creator-King of the Universe.
As the gospel helps me see myself and others as God does, I am learning to relate to people with more and more confidence and compassion, free from feelings of inferiority and superiority. It’s incredible how the gospel levels the playing field, putting us all on equal footing, no one “better” than another before God.
For example, I have been learning over the years how to relate at the core to a half-Japanese, half-white single mother originally from Japan but now living on welfare in New York who calls me on the phone periodically. She is a former client of mine from my days when I was the Director of Japanese American Social Services, Inc. (JASSI). She still calls to talk with me about her life and her five adult children whom I’ve known ever since they were young kids—all born out of wedlock with four different fathers. And I’ve been learning over the years to treat her with honor, love, and respect instead of with a feeling of superiority, of being “better” than her, as I see her as someone like me at the core—a spiritually fallen but completely loved human being.
In the same way, I have tried to relate at the core to famous people who cross my path every now and then, the latest being the white, mid-western former “Dateline NBC” broadcast journalist, Stone Phillips. He was in the same graduating class as I was in college, but I never had the pleasure of meeting him. I’m convinced that God orchestrated a perfect opportunity for me to meet him and talk with him over breakfast at our recent college class reunion. Without feelings of inferiority, I was able to initiate a fairly ordinary conversation with him about someone we both knew—my college roommate (who it turns out is someone he actually admired back in freshman year)--because I saw him as a fellow fallen-but-loved human being who was, at the core, no better than I.
It’s amazing how the gospel enables me to cut through barriers that usually divide people and to relate to people as the human beings God made us.
Gospel-centeredness is also transforming how I view and relate to money and possessions. I can see that the Creator-King owns everything in the universe, including the things I have on this earth. And because He did not spare His greatest treasure, His Son, but gave him up for me so that I could be adopted into His family as His son, I can trust my perfect Father to give me, along with His Son, whatever else I need (Romans 8:32). So it does me no good to worry about things my Father—the Creator-King—has committed Himself to take care of.
And as His son, I have the tremendous privilege of being a steward, not an owner, of what He gives me, to use for His purposes and mission in the world, not my own, but in dialogue and consultation with Him. So I can answer His call to work for an underfunded Christian ministry like Iwa, and live on a bare bones survival budget, and not worry, knowing that my Father is dedicated to supplying all I need. Twinges of panic may arise now and then when something goes wrong with the economy or when it looks like Iwa’s income isn’t going to cover its expenses for the month. But they go away when I center on the gospel.
And as a steward-son, I’ve been feeling more joy and satisfaction in giving away the money God has entrusted me with, to enrich other people’s lives, than in spending it on myself. And that’s because, as I’ve been working the gospel into my heart, I’ve been seeing how much God loves “the world” (and the people in it) (John 3:16) and I’ve been growing a heart like the heart of my Father. And as my Father abundantly supplies all that I need, I feel rich and generous like Him, and want to share my riches with others, as He does.
If I had to sum it all up, I’d say that the basic change that’s been taking place is a growing love for and trust in God—Father and Son—who gave up everything for me so that I could have everything I want and need in life. And what I’m finding I truly want and need in life ultimately is God. Nothing is truly more satisfying in life than a loving, intimate relationship with God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. And that’s something we can have for eternity, as Jesus himself pointed out in John 17:3: “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”
And what makes it all work—as something that’s not just an abstract idea that sits in my head but a concrete reality that moves into my heart and truly changes me—is “the kiss of God.”
To be continued. . . .
Please leave any comments you may have on this blog and feel free to share it with others.
If you'd like to read any of the other blogs in this series, please go to Iwa's Facebook page here.
So I try to preach the gospel to myself each day. I go over the relational gospel message and pray it in during my morning prayer time. I also listen to sermons that have the relational gospel message in it, in my car on my way to work. And for a few months last year I listened every day to songs and hymns with the gospel at their core, like “How Deep the Father’s Love For Us” and “Rock of Ages.” There are some verses I’ve meditated on, such as Romans 8:31-39, but it’s been hard to keep them in my daily routine. In any case, whether I do something regularly or add something temporarily for a season, I think it’s all making a difference.
One of the changes I’ve been noticing is that I actually respond to situations more with the idea that the only eyes that matter are my Father God’s. I have been in situations where in the past I may have done or not done something because I was afraid of what other people would think of me. Now, if I’m sure it’s something God wants me to do, I just do it even if I know I may catch some flak for it.
Last year, being sure that God wanted me to do it, I sent e-mails to a guy of Jewish background I’ve known for about 20 years to point him to God, as I’d done in the past. But this time, I got an extremely negative reaction I’d never gotten before, from anyone. In phone messages and e-mails, he lit into me, calling me such things as a “hypocrite,” “anti-Christian,” and “self-righteous,”and telling me never to bring God into our conversations again. It was quite a shock.
Angry and upset, I wanted to defend myself. So I thought of all kinds of ways to counter his allegations. But after calming down, I realized that I needed to focus on the gospel—that I am so loved and valued by my Father God that He would sacrifice His greatest treasure, His Son, for me despite all the things I’d said, done, or had inside me that were offensive to Him. And I am now a completely accepted and infinitely loved son of my Father God, like Christ, because of Christ’s sacrifice—living and dying for me.
So I didn’t need to defend myself or correct what I thought were outrageous distortions. In the view of the only eyes that mattered—my Father God’s—I was not an anti-Christian, self-righteous hypocrite (although I do realize that I have those tendencies in me). I was an incredibly loved, well-pleasing son of God. And if Christ could allow outrageous distortions about himself to go uncorrected—as he went through without protest the incredibly humiliating public shame of being crucified like a common criminal on a cross—I could do the same for him.
And if the Father and the Son could forgive me for my offensiveness to them, I could forgive this guy for his offensiveness to me.
So what did I do? I restrained myself from responding and just waited—something very unusual to do for the lawyer in me who usually feels compelled to put things right ASAP. The wisdom of that seems to have been borne out because after over a month of silence, he initiated contact because he needed my help. And he has since asked me to pray for him. And following that, he admitted I was right and he was wrong about one thing among others that had provoked his derogatory epithets. And to top it off, he recently told me he would let me counsel him on putting his faith, trust, love, and sense of safety and security in God because of a life-threatening condition he’s facing. I don’t know if his heart is really turning to God or if he just wants my attention and sympathy. But at least I can bring God back into our conversations.
So in this case, the gospel being worked into my heart brought about not only something good for me, but also something good for someone else. This may not always be the case, but I think that what it does, in any case, is it allows God to do the work that only He can do. And that is always something good. . . and often quite amazing and even miraculous.
I am experiencing other changes as well, as I work the gospel into my heart. With gospel-centered sensibility, I have been trying to get into the practice of getting past the things that ordinarily divide people—race and ethnicity, gender, class, economic status, social standing, culture, religion--and relating to people at the core—as spiritually flawed, broken, and corrupted, yet completely loved human creatures who have the potential of becoming glorious, beautiful, and awe-inspiring sons and daughters of the Creator-King of the Universe.
As the gospel helps me see myself and others as God does, I am learning to relate to people with more and more confidence and compassion, free from feelings of inferiority and superiority. It’s incredible how the gospel levels the playing field, putting us all on equal footing, no one “better” than another before God.
For example, I have been learning over the years how to relate at the core to a half-Japanese, half-white single mother originally from Japan but now living on welfare in New York who calls me on the phone periodically. She is a former client of mine from my days when I was the Director of Japanese American Social Services, Inc. (JASSI). She still calls to talk with me about her life and her five adult children whom I’ve known ever since they were young kids—all born out of wedlock with four different fathers. And I’ve been learning over the years to treat her with honor, love, and respect instead of with a feeling of superiority, of being “better” than her, as I see her as someone like me at the core—a spiritually fallen but completely loved human being.
In the same way, I have tried to relate at the core to famous people who cross my path every now and then, the latest being the white, mid-western former “Dateline NBC” broadcast journalist, Stone Phillips. He was in the same graduating class as I was in college, but I never had the pleasure of meeting him. I’m convinced that God orchestrated a perfect opportunity for me to meet him and talk with him over breakfast at our recent college class reunion. Without feelings of inferiority, I was able to initiate a fairly ordinary conversation with him about someone we both knew—my college roommate (who it turns out is someone he actually admired back in freshman year)--because I saw him as a fellow fallen-but-loved human being who was, at the core, no better than I.
It’s amazing how the gospel enables me to cut through barriers that usually divide people and to relate to people as the human beings God made us.
Gospel-centeredness is also transforming how I view and relate to money and possessions. I can see that the Creator-King owns everything in the universe, including the things I have on this earth. And because He did not spare His greatest treasure, His Son, but gave him up for me so that I could be adopted into His family as His son, I can trust my perfect Father to give me, along with His Son, whatever else I need (Romans 8:32). So it does me no good to worry about things my Father—the Creator-King—has committed Himself to take care of.
And as His son, I have the tremendous privilege of being a steward, not an owner, of what He gives me, to use for His purposes and mission in the world, not my own, but in dialogue and consultation with Him. So I can answer His call to work for an underfunded Christian ministry like Iwa, and live on a bare bones survival budget, and not worry, knowing that my Father is dedicated to supplying all I need. Twinges of panic may arise now and then when something goes wrong with the economy or when it looks like Iwa’s income isn’t going to cover its expenses for the month. But they go away when I center on the gospel.
And as a steward-son, I’ve been feeling more joy and satisfaction in giving away the money God has entrusted me with, to enrich other people’s lives, than in spending it on myself. And that’s because, as I’ve been working the gospel into my heart, I’ve been seeing how much God loves “the world” (and the people in it) (John 3:16) and I’ve been growing a heart like the heart of my Father. And as my Father abundantly supplies all that I need, I feel rich and generous like Him, and want to share my riches with others, as He does.
If I had to sum it all up, I’d say that the basic change that’s been taking place is a growing love for and trust in God—Father and Son—who gave up everything for me so that I could have everything I want and need in life. And what I’m finding I truly want and need in life ultimately is God. Nothing is truly more satisfying in life than a loving, intimate relationship with God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. And that’s something we can have for eternity, as Jesus himself pointed out in John 17:3: “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”
And what makes it all work—as something that’s not just an abstract idea that sits in my head but a concrete reality that moves into my heart and truly changes me—is “the kiss of God.”
To be continued. . . .
Please leave any comments you may have on this blog and feel free to share it with others.
If you'd like to read any of the other blogs in this series, please go to Iwa's Facebook page here.
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