Further, my brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord! It is no trouble for me to write the same things to you again, and it is a safeguard for you. Watch out for those dogs, those evildoers, those mutilators of the flesh. For it is we who are the circumcision, we who serve God by His Spirit, who boast in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh — though I myself have reasons for such confidence.
If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.
But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ — the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. Philippians 3:1-9
“In order to take a man into his wound, so that he can heal it and begin the release of the true self, God will thwart the false self. He will take away all that you’ve leaned upon to bring you life.
In the movie The Natural, Robert Redford is a baseball player named Roy Hobbs, perhaps the most gifted baseball player ever. He’s a high school wonder boy, a natural who gets a shot at the big leagues. But his dreams of a professional career are cut short when Hobbs is wrongly sentenced to prison for murder.
Years later, an aging Hobbs gets a second chance. He’s signed by the New York Knights – the worst team in the league. But through his incredible gift, untarnished by the years, Hobbs leads the Knights from ignominy to the play-off game for the National League pennant. He rallies the team, becomes the center of their hopes and dreams.
The climax of the film is the game for the championship. It’s the bottom of the ninth; the score is Pittsburgh 2, Knights 0. The Knights have 2 outs; there’s a man on first and third when Hobbs steps up to the plate. He’s their only chance; this is his moment.
Now, there’s something you must know, something absolutely crucial to the story. Ever since his high school days, Hobbs has played with a bat he made himself from the heart of a tree felled by lightning in his front yard. Burned into the bat is a lightning bolt and the words “wonder boy.” That bat is the symbol of his greatness, his giftedness. He has never, ever played with another.
Clutching “wonder boy,” Hobbs steps to the plate. His first swing is a miss; his second is a foul ball high and behind. His third is a solid hit along the first-base line; it looks like it’s a home run, but it also lands foul. As Hobbs returns to the plate, he sees his bat lying there … in pieces. It shattered on that last swing.
This is the critical moment in a man’s life, when all he has counted on comes crashing down, when his golden bat breaks into pieces. His investments fail; his company lets him go; the church fires him; he is leveled by an illness; his wife walks out; his daughter turns up pregnant. What is he to do? Will he stay in the game? Will he shrink back to the dugout? Will he scramble to try to put things back together, as so many men do?
The true test of a man, the beginning of his redemption, actually starts when he can no longer rely on what he’s used all his life. The real journey begins when the false self fails. A moment that seems like an eternity passes as Hobbs stands there, holding the broken pieces, surveying the damage. The bat is beyond repair.
Then he says to the bat boy, “Go pick me out a winner, Bobby.” He stays in the game and hits a home run to win the series. God will take away our “bat” as well. He will do something to thwart the false self.”
John Eldredge in Wild at Heart (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001) 66.
Much like Robert Redford in the movie, the apostle Paul could have gotten the label, “wonder boy” on his proverbial bat. He had credentials and opportunity to “put confidence in the flesh” but he would not do it.
Neither should we. In today’s post, we start the week realizing that sometimes the best thing our generous God does for us is take away our bat. He removes that thing (or things) that we put confidence in instead of Him.
As Eldredge writes, some people trust in investments. Others put confidence in a job, health, or human relationships. Trust placed anywhere but God is misplaced trust. Don’t wait for God to take away your bat.
Surrender it to Him. Then do what Roy Hobbs did in the movie. Go to God and say, “Go pick me out a winner.” He will. He has good plans for you. For me too. But we must put no confidence in the flesh.