"I Will Bear Your Dark Side" study guide

2

“I Will Bear Your Dark Side”

Nailing It Down

A. “Ever since the curse, we’ve been different. Beastly. Ugly. Defiant. Angry. We do things we know we shouldn’t do and wonder why we did them.”

1. To what event does Max refer when he refers to “the curse”? How did this event change everything?

2. In what kinds of situations is your own “fallen nature” most likely to surface?

3. If you feel comfortable doing so, describe the last time you did something you knew you shouldn’t do, only to wonder later why you did it.

B. “The soldiers felt big by making Christ look small. Ever done that? Maybe you’ve never spit on anyone, but have you gossiped? Slandered? Have you ever raised your hand in anger or rolled your eyes in arrogance?”

1. Describe a time when you saw someone trying to feel big by making someone else look small.

2. Answer Max’s questions. Why did you act in this way? What happened when you did so?

3. How did those experiences help you grow and change?

C. “It is not that we can’t do good. We do. It’s just that we can’t keep from doing bad. In theological terms, we are ‘totally depraved'. Though made in God’s image, we have fallen. We’re corrupt at the core. The very center of our being is selfish and perverse.

1. In your own terms, how would you define “total depravity”?

2. Do you believe it’s impossible for us to keep from doing bad? Explain.

3. Describe the first time you saw in yourself that “the very center of our being is selfish and perverse.”

D. “A pig might look at his trough partners and announce, ‘I’m just as clean as everyone else.’ Compared to humans, however, that pig needs help. Compared to God, we humans need the same. The standard for sinlessness isn’t found at the pig troughs of earth but at the throne of heaven. God, himself, is the standard.”

1. Why do we tend to compare ourselves with others around us? What’s wrong with this comparison?

2. In what way is God the standard for our behavior?

3. What kind of help for our propensity to sin can we expect to receive from the “throne of heaven”? Explain.

E. “In the Bible, the Beauty . . . becomes the beast so the beast can become the beauty. Jesus changes places with us.”

1. Who is “the Beauty”? Who is “the beast”?

2. What does Max mean by “Jesus changes places with us”?

3. What is “the beast” in you? (What beastly traits must God forgive in you?)

Glimpsing God’s Heart

A. Read Psalms 36:1; 51:5; Jeremiah 17:9; Romans 3:10, 23; Ephesians 2:3.

1. What claim do all these verses make about us?

2. How does this affect our relationship with God? With each other?

3. In what way do these verses paint us as “beastly”?

B. Read Jeremiah 13:23 and Romans 8:7.

1. What hope for change do any of us have by relying on our own resources? Explain.

2. What does it mean to have a mind “controlled by the sinful self”? What results from this condition?

C. Read Romans 6:23; Hebrews 12:14; Proverbs 10:16.

1. What are “the wages of sin” (NIV)?

2. What is promised to those who do not have a holy life?

3. With what does God pay “evil people”?

D. Read Galatians 3:13–14.

1. What did Jesus do for us?

2. Why did he do this?

3. What did he accomplish by doing this?

Making a Choice

A. Some people think that the label “totally depraved” sounds too harsh. To these folks, Max issues the following challenge: “For the next twenty-four hours lead a sinless life.” Do an experiment. One day this week take up Max’s challenge (and take along a notebook to record what happens).

B. Get by yourself in a quiet part of your house, sit down, close your eyes, and try to put yourself in Jesus’ place during the awful moments when the soldiers abused him. Imagine the hard slaps across your mouth, the cruel mocking and jeering, the spittle dripping down your cheeks. What do you feel? What are you thinking? Remember: Jesus did all this not only for the soldiers who beat him, but for you. Be sure to give him thanks for choosing to suffer such dreadful abuse for you.

Excerpt From: Lucado, Max. “He Chose the Nails.” Thomas Nelson, 2011-10-12. iBooks. 

This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/he-chose-the-nails/id607382479?mt=11

NOTE FROM THE BLOGGER: Hey y'all! Feel free to copy this study guide and take notes as you read. I will posting mine on here closer to the end of the week. Now... Like I said this is a judge free blog and I will be sharing my personal thoughts, and if anything said against me or any other who comments on here... I will take harsh measures... A warning will be given... I'm not that mean.

He chose the nails Chapter 2 "I will bear your dark side"

2

I WILL BEAR 

YOUR DARK SIDE

GOD’S PROMISE IN THE SOLDIERS’ SPIT”

“Sin lurks deep in the hearts of the wicked, forever urging them on to evil deeds.

Psalm 36:1 TLB

Vanity is so anchored in the heart of man that . . . those who write against it want to have the glory of having written well; and those who read it desire the glory of having read it.

Blaise Pascal

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.

Who can understand it?

Jeremiah 17:9 NIV

Sin, understood in the Christian sense, is the rent which cuts through the whole of existence.

Emil Brunner

Oh this propensity to evil, how did you creep in to cover the earth with treachery?

Ecclesiasticus 37:3 APOC”

What would have happened to the Beast if the Beauty hadn’t appeared?

You know the story. There was a time when his face was handsome and his palace pleasant. But that was before the curse, before the shadows fell on the castle of the prince, before the shadows fell on the heart of the prince. And when the darkness fell, he hid. Secluded in his castle, he was left with glistening snout and curly tusks and a bad mood.

But all that changed when the girl came. I wonder, what would have happened to the Beast if the Beauty hadn’t appeared?

Better yet, what would have happened if she hadn’t cared? Who would have blamed her if she hadn’t? He was such a . . . well, such a beast. Hairy. Drooling. Roaring. Defying. And she was such a beauty. Stunningly gorgeous. Contagiously kind. If ever two people lived up to their names, didn’t the Beauty and the Beast? Who would have blamed her if she hadn’t cared? But she did care.

And because the Beauty loved the Beast, the Beast became more beautiful himself.

The story’s familiar, not just because it’s a fairy tale. It’s familiar because it reminds us of ourselves. There is a beast within each of us.

It wasn’t always so. There was a time when humanity’s face was beautiful and the palace pleasant. But that was before the curse, before the shadow fell across the garden of Adam, before the shadow fell across the heart of Adam. And ever since the curse, we’ve been different. Beastly. Ugly. Defiant. Angry. We do things we know we shouldn’t do and wonder why we did them.

The ugly part of me sure showed his beastly face the other night. I was driving on a two-lane road that was about to become a single lane. A woman in a car beside me was in the lane that continued. I was in the one that stopped. I needed to be ahead of her. My schedule was, no doubt, more important than hers. After all, am I not a man of the cloth? Am I not a courier of compassion? An ambassador of peace?

So I floored it.

Guess what? She did too. When my lane ended, she was a fender ahead of me. I growled and slowed and let her go ahead. Over her shoulder she gave me a sweet little bye-bye wave. Grrrr.

I started to dim my headlights. Then I paused. The sinister part of me said, “Wait a minute.” Am I not called to shed light on dark places? Illuminate the shadows?

So I put a little high beam in her rearview mirror.

She retaliated by slowing down. To a crawl. This woman was mean. She couldn’t have cared less if the whole city of San Antonio was late; she wasn’t going to go beyond fifteen miles per hour. And I wasn’t going to take my lights out of her rearview mirror. Like two stubborn donkeys, she kept it slow and I kept it bright. After more unkind thoughts than I dare confess, the road widened, and I started to pass. Wouldn’t you know it? A red light left the two of us side by side at an intersection. What happened next contains both good news and bad. The good news is, she waved at me. The bad news is, her wave was not one you’d want to imitate.

Moments later, conviction surfaced. “Why did I do that?” I’m typically a calm guy, but for fifteen minutes I was a beast! Only two facts comforted me: one, I don’t have a fish symbol on my car, and two, the apostle Paul had similar struggles. “I do not do what I want to do, and I do the things I hate” (Rom. 7:15). Ever felt like saying those words?

If so, you’re in good company. Paul isn’t the only person in the Bible who wrestled the beast within. Hard to find a page in Scripture where the animal doesn’t bare his teeth. King Saul chasing young David with a spear. Shechem raping Dinah. Dinah’s brothers (the sons of Jacob) murdering Shechem and his friends. Lot selling out to Sodom and then getting out of Sodom. Herod murdering Bethlehem toddlers. Another Herod murdering Jesus’ cousin. If the Bible is called the Good Book, it’s not because its people are. Blood runs as freely through the stories as the ink through the quills that penned them. But the evil of the beast was never so raw as on the day Christ died.

The disciples were first fast asleep, then fast afoot.

Herod wanted a show.

Pilate wanted out.

And the soldiers? They wanted blood.

So they scourged Jesus. The legionnaire’s whip consisted of leather straps with lead balls on each end. His goal was singular: beat the accused within an inch of his death and then stop. Thirty-nine lashes were allowed but seldom needed. A centurion monitored the prisoner’s status. No doubt Jesus was near death when his hands were untied and he slumped to the ground.

The whipping was the first deed of the soldiers.

The crucifixion was the third. (No, I didn’t skip the second.

We’ll get to that in a moment.) Though his back was ribboned with wounds, the soldiers loaded the crossbeam on Jesus’ shoulders and marched him to the Place of a Skull and executed him.

We don’t fault the soldiers for these two actions. After all, they were just following orders. But what’s hard to understand is what they did in between. Here is Matthew’s description:

Jesus was beaten with whips and handed over to the soldiers to be crucified. The governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the governor’s palace, and they all gathered around him. They took off his clothes and put a red robe on him. Using thorny branches, they made a crown, put it on his head, and put a stick in his right hand. Then the soldiers bowed before Jesus and made fun of him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on Jesus. Then they took his stick and began to beat him on the head. After they finished, the soldiers took off the robe and put his own clothes on him again. Then they led him away to be crucified. (Matt. 27:26–31)

The soldiers’ assignment was simple: take the Nazarene to the hill and kill him. But they had another idea. They wanted to have some fun first. Strong, rested, armed soldiers encircled an exhausted, nearly dead, Galilean carpenter and beat up on him. The scourging was commanded. The crucifixion was ordered. But who would draw pleasure out of spitting on a half-dead man?

Spitting isn’t intended to hurt the body—it can’t. Spitting is intended to degrade the soul, and it does. What were the soldiers doing? Were they not elevating themselves at the expense of another? They felt big by making Christ look small.

Ever done that? Maybe you’ve never spit on anyone, but have you gossiped? Slandered? Have you ever raised your hand in anger or rolled your eyes in arrogance? Have you ever blasted your high beams in someone’s rearview mirror? Ever made someone feel bad so you would feel good?

That’s what the soldiers did to Jesus. When you and I do the same, we do it to Jesus too. “I assure you, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!” (Matt. 25:40 NLT). How we treat others is how we treat Jesus.

“Oh, Max, I don’t like to hear that,” you protest. Believe me, I don’t like to say it. But we must face the fact that there is something beastly within each and every one of us. Something beastly that makes us do things that surprise even us. Haven’t you surprised yourself? Haven’t you reflected on an act and wondered, “What got into me?”

The Bible has a three-letter answer for that question: S-I-N. There is something bad—beastly—within each of us. We are “by nature children of wrath” (Eph. 2:3 NASB). It is not that we can’t do good. We do. It’s just that we can’t keep from doing bad. In theological terms, we are “totally depraved.(morally corrupt)” Though made in God’s image, we have fallen. We’re corrupt at the core. The very center of our being is selfish and perverse. David said, “I was born a sinner— yes, from the moment my mother conceived me” (Ps. 51:5 NLT). Could any of us say any less? Each one of us was born with a tendency to sin. Depravity is a universal condition. Scripture says it plainly:

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned, every one, to his own way. (Isa. 53:6 NKJV) 

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? (Jer. 17:9 NIV) 

There is none righteous, no, not one. . . . All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. (Rom. 3:10, 23 NKJV)

Some would disagree with such strong words. They look around and say, “Compared to everyone else, I’m a decent person.” You know, a pig might say something similar. He might look at his trough partners and announce, “I’m just as clean as everyone else.” Compared to humans, however, that pig needs help. Compared to God, we humans need the same. The standard for sinlessness isn’t found at the pig troughs of earth but at the throne of heaven. God, himself, is the standard.

We are beasts. As French essayist Michel de Montaigne said, “There is no man so good, who, were he to submit all his thoughts and actions to the laws, would not deserve hanging ten times in his life.”1 Our deeds are ugly. Our actions are harsh. We don’t do what we want to do, we don’t like what we do, and what’s worse—yes, there is something worse—we can’t change.

We try, oh, how we try. But “Can a leopard change his spots? In the same way, Jerusalem, you cannot change and do good, because you are accustomed to doing evil” (Jer. 13:23). The apostle agreed with the prophet: “The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot” (Rom. 8:7 NRSV, italics mine).

Still disagree? Still think the assessment is too harsh? If so, accept this challenge. For the next twenty-four hours lead a sinless life. I’m not asking for a perfect decade or year or even a perfect month. Just one perfect day. Can you do it? Can you live without sin for one day?

No? How about one hour? Could you promise that for the next sixty minutes you will have only pure thoughts and actions?

Still hesitant? Then how about the next five minutes? Five minutes of worry-free, anger-free, unselfish living—can you do it?

No? Nor can I.

Then we have a problem: we are sinners, and “the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23 NIV).

We have a problem: we are not holy, and “anyone whose life is not holy will never see the Lord” (Heb. 12:14).

We have a problem: we are evil, and “evil people are paid with punishment” (Prov. 10:16).

What can we do?

Allow the spit of the soldiers to symbolize the filth in our hearts. And then observe what Jesus does with our filth. He carries it to the cross.

Through the prophet he said, “I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting” (Isa. 50:6 NIV). Mingled with his blood and sweat was the essence of our sin.

God could have deemed otherwise. In God’s plan, Jesus was offered wine for his throat, so why not a towel for his face? Simon carried the cross of Jesus, but he didn’t mop the cheek of Jesus. Angels were a prayer away. Couldn’t they have taken away the spittle?

They could have, but Jesus never commanded them to. For some reason, the One who chose the nails also chose the saliva. Along with the spear and the sponge of man, he bore the spit of man. Why? Could it be that he sees the beauty within the beast?

But here the correlation with Beauty and the Beast ends. In the fable, the beauty kisses the beast. In the Bible, the Beauty does much more. He becomes the beast so the beast can become the beauty. Jesus changes places with us. We, like Adam, were under a curse, but Jesus “changed places with us and put himself under that curse” (Gal. 3:13).

What if the Beauty had not come? What if the Beauty had not cared? Then we would have remained a beast. But the Beauty did come, and the Beauty did care.

The sinless One took on the face of a sinner so that we sinners could take on the face of a saint.

Excerpt From: Lucado, Max. “He Chose the Nails.” Thomas Nelson, 2011-10-12. iBooks. 

This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/he-chose-the-nails/id607382479? mt=11

NOTE TO READERS FROM THE BLOGGER: Everything that is underlined are things that I had highlighted in the book... Also, I will be posting the study guide in a little bit in another post. Thank you guys for reading!!