“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

CHAPTER ONE: The Ruins

You live in a broken, run-down house. You’ve been here as long as you can remember. You know nothing else. For a while you were able to at least keep it looking nice on the outside, but it’s always been falling apart. The landlord seemed like a great guy at first (2 Corinthians 11:24). He allowed you to skip rent. He let you host all the parties you wanted – he even helped fund more than one. Sure, your friends trashed the place, but you trashed theirs, so it all seemed fair in a messed up kind of way.

But you slowly realize that the landlord is a hard owner. You thought he was your friend. He isn’t. The landlord keeps promising that you will have a better house and a better life if you will just do one more thing: fix the roof, mend some pipes, hang new drywall, repaint, rebuild the foundation that keeps sinking further into the sandy soil. But all those things cost money that you don’t have, so you borrow money from the landlord. Nothing ever pans out. You end up spackling over holes in the wall and wrapping duct tape around leaking pipes, but you know your house is going down (Jeremiah 19:13).

It doesn’t help that you are really sick. You feel as run down as your house looks. Maybe it’s the asbestos in the walls, or the lead in the paint, or the leaky pipes in the stove, or the fact that it smells like sulfur. There’s something toxic about this house. It’s killing you. But as far as you know, this is all you have. This is the only place to live.

You hate the person you have become in the house you’ve allowed to fall apart. Your house is in ruin. Your life is in shambles. And to make things worse, you realize one day that somebody is following you. Literally. He’s one step behind you everywhere you go. When you are finally able to catch a glimpse in a mirror, you realize… it’s you. Not just like you, but a zombie version. You look like one of the Walking Dead. By the end of the day, he’s got a hand on your shoulder. The next morning, he drapes his arms around you and makes you carry him everywhere you go. He stinks. He’s dead weight. (Romans 7:24)

You call your landlord hoping he can do something, but he already knew. “Yeah, they always show up in my houses.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s you. It’s just the real you. The dead you.”

“Why did it show up just now?”

“Oh, it’s always been there. You’ve been dead for years. You just couldn’t see it. ”

There’s nothing you can do. The landlord doesn’t care. Most of your friends hang out somewhere else, and the ones that show up don’t know what you are talking about. They don’t see the dead you. They try to help do things like paint the siding that is falling off the side of the house. (Jeremiah 8:11) It’s tough for them to paint. They carry the dead with them too, and they don’t even know it.

CHAPTER TWO: Bring Out Your Dead!

The next day a man walks onto the porch. “Bring out your dead!” he calls cheerily. (John 11:25) You don’t watch Monty Python, so you don’t get the joke.

“Don’t I know you? I do! You’re Mary’s boy, right?” He nods cheerfully. “Why are you asking for the dead? Are you a mortician now? Haven’t you been helping your daddy build houses?”

“I have indeed been about my Father’s business,” he agrees cheerfully (Luke 2:49), “but there’s more than one kind of house, and more than one way to build them. Bottom line: I am here to help you with your housing situation.”

“What makes you think there are dead here?”

\ “I could see it from the road. I can smell it on your breath; I hear it in your words (Romans 3:13); I see it in your eyes. Oh – and it clings to you like a monstrous burden. This house has killed you. Your landlord cracked the gas lines and installed the asbestos. Your landlord made sure there are no detectors for smoke or gas. He made sure you owe him so much money that you feel like he owns you. Your landlord likes his tenants dead. But you were meant to be alive. (John 5:21) And I can get rid of that body of death and make this house livable.”

This sounds great, but… “Why should I trust you? Lots of other builders have claimed to be able to help, and none of them got the job done. Most of them made it worse, in fact.”

“Why do you think you even know that the dead lurk around you? You thought you were just tired and sick. But that day you first truly saw yourself in the mirror, I was the one who showed you what was real. I was the one who opened your eyes. You needed to know (2 Timothy 2:26). You can trust me because I bring you truth that will set you free.”

”I don't think you understand. It won’t be that easy. I’m drowning in debt; I’m dying in my sickness; I’m doomed to live here until it collapses or I do. I’m a captive here.”

“I do understand, actually. I’ve been in this neighborhood for a while. And I’ve got good news: I already paid your debt. The penalty is gone; the power of your landlord is broken” (Galatians 3:13-15).

“How did you do that?”

This time his gentle smile was also grave. ”It was…costly. But I took your captivity captive; I paid your debt. I am here to offer you freedom from your landlord and your dead self. All you have to do is accept it.”

“Why me? I’m nothing. Nobody. I’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

“Why not you? I care about you. I seek and save people and situations that seem hopeless (Luke 19:10). Plus, I would like to move into this house (1 Corinthians 6:19), and where I am, there is no room for death and ruin” (1 Corinthians 15:55).

“Where would I go if you move into this house?”

“Why would you want to go?” You sit quietly for a long time. Your father always said you got what you deserved, and he never helped with your house or your health. Your landlord pretended to be your friend while guiding you down a road to death. Your friends had trashed your house, then taken their dead selves to their dead parties on dead-end streets. You look around at the shambles all around you. You remember the landlord’s harsh, condemning voice (Revelation 12:10). You feel the dead weight of your sins, failures and inadequacies on your back (Isaiah 43:24). You’ve never known anyone who seemed to care about you and your life. He offers a new start. He offers a new identity. He offers to make all things new (Revelations 21:5).

Finally you whisper, “I have no future. I have no hope. Everyone offers me death. There is nowhere else to go. You are the only one who has ever offered me life (John 6:68). So…yes. Let’s do this. I and my house are yours.”

The Man stands up and lifts your dead self off your back and onto his. “Well done. You have asked for resurrection, and I will give it. I will get the deed to your house, and when I return, I will show you what life is supposed to look like.” (Hebrews 2:14-18)

You watch him until he is out of sight. It takes a while. He stops and knocks at every house. You wonder what he is going to do with all the dead he takes upon himself as he walks through the town. Then you rest. (Matthew 11:28) When you awake at dawn three days later, everything has changed.

CHAPTER THREE: ReOrientation

You have a hard time believing the changes. When creditors knock at your door, it’s Mary’s boy who answers. Now the rain stays outdoors and the plumbing stays in the pipes. Your front door actually latches. It’s…amazing. (2 Corinthians 5:17) But this man – you’ve started calling him the ReBuilder - has a bigger plan than you realized. He wasn’t going to just uncondemn the house and sweep up the garbage. He is planning to turn your shack into a mansion that looked suspiciously like a temple (1 Corinthians 3:16).

When he first tells you, you say, “Awesome! Go right ahead!”

But the ReBuilder smiles and says, “Not without you. It’s our house. We work together. You need to give yourself to this project” (Romans 12:1)

The first thing you do is take an honest assessment of the mess that your house has become. You forgot how many rooms you had added, locked rooms haunted by other ‘dead yous’ that you had forgotten were even there.

The ghost of Abused You huddles in one room, running out and clinging to you in unexpected moments. In the next room,
No Longer Innocent You sits among reminders of how and when childhood slipped away.
Addicted You sits in the middle of needles, bottles, food, and binge shopping purchases, eyes glued to a tiny screen.
Greedy You keeps trying to expand the room where you first learned to trample on and consume others.
Angry You still punches holes in the wall of his room and watches the fear grow in the eyes of the others.
In the room of Mouthy You, you first learned that words can manipulate, control, and wound – and you liked it.
The room of Never Good Enough You? That’s the largest, and the oldest, and the walls are covered with photos of family and friends.

It’s a shameful tour for you, but the Rebuilder doesn’t seemed shocked. He keeps an arm around you as you walk; he lifts your chin up when your shame overwhelms you. When you are done he says, “Has anyone ever killed a fatted calf for you? (Luke 15:11-32)”

“What? Um, no.”

“Well, then, it’s about time. This deserves a celebration.” “

What? This-” (you point at the hallway with so many Dead You rooms – “ this deserves a celebration?”

“No, not that. But you were lost; now you are found. You were dead, and now you are alive. This deserves a celebration. Something barbecued or maybe even deep fried, and with an onion blossom of some sort. And we’re going shopping. The living do not wear the clothes of the dead.”

You don’t argue. Despite your feelings of inadequacy, this is something you feel it is important to accept. No one had ever celebrated you before.

CHAPTER Four: ReBuilding

When it’s time to get to work, you’ve got nothing to offer once again, but the man is ready for that too. He gives you a blueprint and all the tools you need. He gives you a fund to draw from for building materials, expert advice and help, etc. Since he’s the architect, designer, builder and inspector, He will be available every day – leading, guiding, protecting, correcting (Romans 8:14). But you have to set your alarm, get out of bed, put on the tools, pick up the lumber, swing a hammer, get splinters, and break and rebuild a few things. You are going to invest some sweat equity into this house (1 Corinthians 9:27).

Some days are better than others. You notice other houses in the neighborhood that are also being transformed by this… ReBuilder… and it’s easy to be jealous of other houses that look nicer– or proud as you compare yours to the ones the look less advanced. The ReBuilder just shakes his head. “Build your own house with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12). I’ll worry about the others.”

You get hurt; you get tired; you put walls at the wrong place and shoot yourself with the nail gun. You question the ReBuilder’s blueprint. You argue when He shows you something that is not up to code. It turns out you had built your house on a terrible foundation – who chooses a lot full of shifting sand instead of bedrock? He takes care of that, too (Luke 6:46-49).

One hot day, as you are dumping water over your head and wringing out your sweat-soaked shirt, you ask a question you’ve been wondering about for a while. “What happened to your hands? Your side? And you’ve got a LOT of scarring on you back. Construction accident?”

“Construction, yes, Accident, no. It was all part of doing my Father’s business.”

“Oh.” I didn’t think construction was that rough. “What exactly was your business?”

He smiles. “You. You were my business. I have come to bring you life. To save you from death means another must die. That was your wages. That was your debt. And then it was mine. This” – he held up hands – “this is a sign. All my bruises? (Isaiah 53:5) The price for your sins. There will be others who will tell you they, too, rebuild lives. They are pretty good at temporary fixes – a good coat of paint can cover up a lot - but they did not pay your debt. They did not stop your foundation from sinking. They cannot free you from death. The only true ReBuilder will be known by his scars.”

“So… you died to pay for my debt? You’re standing right in front of me, clear as day.”

“The rotten embrace of death looks hopeless to you, but not to me. Death holds no power over me (Romans 6:9). I took the inevitable beating your landlord was going to give; I took all of the Dead Yous on my back and carried them to their place; I came back from death’s clutches to offer you this gift.”

We stand quietly for a while. “That’s quite a gift. Thank you.”

He winks and slings his tool belt around his waist. “It’s what I do.” And we continue building.

You occasionally find your old landlord crouching outside your door (Genesis 4:7), wondering if he can hang out for a while. “Take a break,” he says. “Don’t take life so seriously.” Some days you actually invite him in and you hang out. It sometimes fun for a while, but it never ends well. You feel worn down again, almost as if your dead self was back, hand on your shoulder, whispering emptiness and loneliness into your ear. Your landlord always ends up roaring through your house, punching holes in the drywall, unfastening pipes, taking a jackhammer to that new foundation - basically trying to demolish everything. (1 Peter 5:8) But the Rebuilder helps you resist, and the old landlord has to leave (James 4:7).

More than once he has caught one of your old Dead Selves trying to sneak back in; he picks him up by the collar and throws him to the curb. You apologize to the ReBuilder when this happens. He hugs you. He doesn't yell (1 John 1:9). His forgiveness is a gift too (Ephesians 1:7).

You spend days –weeks – months – it turns into years - cleaning up the mess. The Rebuilders faithfulness and patience is amazing, but he constantly reminds you of his promise: he will continue what he started (Philippians 1:6). You pick up all the stuff you can; the Rebuilder gets the places you can’t reach and corrects the damage beyond your ability. He helps you make a plan to resist and avoid this situation the next time (Ephesians 4:27; 2 Corinthians 2:11).

There are some days you wonder why the ReBuilder even puts up with you. But he never leaves you on your own. He remains true to his word. He holds you to the code but patiently helps you when you miss the mark. He teaches you how not to shoot anyone with the nail gun. You know you are in this together, that he is for you, that he will restore you and help you even when you are at your weakest (Psalm 51:10-12). So every day you arise and build, and you find increasing satisfaction in the affirmation of the ReBuilder and the pleasure of a job well done (Nehemiah 2:17-18; Matthew 25:23).

CHAPTER FIVE: ReBuilt and Alive

It’s not all work. He fishes with you on still waters. You both shoot hoops at the YMCA and join friends at Buffalo Wild Wings for March Madness and go to Jonny Lang concerts and Ohio State games, which he seems to really, really enjoy. Being around him restores your soul (Psalm 23) even while your callouses thicken. You realize that you are absorbing his ideas, his language, his priorities, his way of living life abundantly (2 Corinthians 3:18)

Others have been joining you at the restaurants and games. Some still bring their dead; some have been set free. Some still live in shacks; others are working with the ReBuilder on mansions. The Rebuilder welcomes them all. He didn’t come to condemn the dead to their bare, cold shacks. He came to save them and rebuild their lives (John 3:17). You invite even more to hang out with you (1 John 3:10). Some do; some don’t. You never stop inviting. The Rebuilder never stops offering his gifts of free inspections, free debt cancellation, and free rebuilding.

Slowly but surely, your house is becoming the kind of mansion that showcases the glorious power of the Rebuilder (Philippians 1:6). You find that you easily congratulate others whose houses are flourishing, and you compassionately help neighbors who are struggling.

You begin to notice that you have your own growing history of scars that you got from the hard work of helping your neighbors. Their houses take a toll on you; you often walk away with something broken, something the Rebuilder mends when you get home. Increasingly, when you share the occasional supper of bread and wine, you begin to think that when he says, “broken and spilled out,” as he passes a hand-torn hunk of bread to you, that this about more than food. “Do this in remembrance of me,” he always says, and one day, as you hobble yet again toward your neighbors, you realize that is exactly what’s happening (I Corinthians 11:24; Mark 14:22-25; Luke 22:18-20).

The blueprint for your own house and the houses of others makes more sense than it used to. You look forward to your alarm clock. The old landlord still comes around, but more than ever you see through his lies (John 8:44). He rarely makes it past the bottom step of the porch. Your Dead self sits on the curb, looking for ways to sneak in, but he fades a little more every day.

You notice a neighbor starting to work on his new house. He looks miserable. You take him some water one hot day (Mark 9:41) and find out that he found a blueprint. “Oh,” you say, “Did you meet the ReBuilder?”

“No,” says your neighbor. “Why would he want to help with my house? It’s horrible. I am going to fix it up enough so the ReBuilder will notice. Once I make it good enough, I’ll be ready for the ReBuilder.”

You say, “This isn’t Field of Dreams. This isn’t, ‘If you build it, he will come.’ It doesn't work that way. Put your handmade tools away. Stop trying to do it yourself (Isaiah 64:6). Unless the Rebuilder builds it and gives you his tools, your labor is useless (Psalm 127:1). It’s making you angry and annoying your neighbors, and your still sitting on a plot of sand. The next big storm is going to put you back at square one” (Matthew 7:24-27).

He turns his back and returns to his works. His Dead Self hugs him tighter, smirking at you as you walk away.

You find that the longer you work with the ReBuilder, more than a few note that you are starting to look more and more like Him (Ephesians 5:1). You are humbled and encouraged; your friends used to comment on the eerie similarity between you and your former landlord (John 8:44; 1 John 3:10). This is much better. “But,” they say, “what’s with all the ongoing work? You told us this was a gift.”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. He paid my debt, designed my new house, laid a new foundation, brought me all the tools, took my dead selves away, healed my wounds, and works with me at no cost to me (but at great cost to himself). Now, I have new gift: Working side by side with the ReBuilder (1 Corinthians 1:9). I don't deserve to be his apprentice. Who am I to swing His hammer on His house? Who am I to cut expensive trim, and build a strong chimney? I brought nothing to this project, but he gives me everything I need to build great things (Colossians 3:1-12). “He has given me far above what I could ask or think (Ephesians 3:20).

“ I just wanted to know Him and understand what kind of person gives grace to the failures and life to the dead (Philippians 3:10). I just wanted to be near him and be like him. And then all these things” - you wave your hand to show His house, His tools, the work of His hands, the campfire where He sits with his friends, the table where you break bread, the community where you get the privilege of introducing others to the Rebuilder – “were added unto me” (Matthew 6:33). This, my friends, is what happens when obedience responds to grace. This is life” (John 10:10; Romans 8:12-14).

___________________________________________________________________________

ENDNOTES CHAPTER ONE

Among other horrible things that happened during Bible times, captive soldiers were sometimes forced to carry a dead body until the rot of the corpse killed them. The Roman poet Virgil wrote: “What tongue can such barbarities record, Or count the slaughters of his ruthless sword? Twas not enough the good, the guiltless bled, Still worse, he bound the living to the dead: These, limb to limb, and face to face, he joined; O! monstrous crime, of unexampled kind! Till choked with stench, the lingering wretches lay, And, in the loathed embraces, died away!” About 100 years later, when Paul was looking for an analogy about how much he hated the part of him prone to sin, he wrote: “Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:24) Several commentators have noted that Paul was possibly referring to the same thing Virgil did.

CHAPTER TWO

Christ sets us free from that dead weight that’s been killing us. Why? Because He can, and he loves us. We just need to ask. Then we are set free from that body of death. Here’s how Paul explains it in Romans 6 (beginning in verse 2):

"We died to our old sinful lives, so how can we continue living with sin? Did you forget that all of us became part of Christ when we were baptized? We shared his death in our baptism. When we were baptized, we were buried with Christ and shared his death. So, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the wonderful power of the Father, we also can live a new life… We know that our old life died with Christ on the cross so that our sinful selves would have no power over us and we would not be slaves to sin...”

CHAPTER THREE

What we call “sanctification” is Spirit-driven obedience as an act of worship. “Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.” (Romans 12:1) But a living sacrifice wants to get off the altar sometimes. That old body of death is hanging around. “On the one hand, I serve the law of God in my mind; but on the other hand, the carnal side of me follows the law of sin.” (Romans 7:25)

This is an image for the process of sanctification. Initially, we are set apart (sanctified) when we are justified by Christ. It changes our identity. We are no longer spiritually dead, enslaved to sin. Now we are alive and renewed. In an ongoing manner, the justified person who submits to God's will is becoming conformed to the image of Christ. Colossians 3:1-12 gives a great description of how the process takes place:

“Since you were raised from the dead with Christ, aim at what is in heaven, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God. Think about the things in heaven, not the things on earth. Your old sinful self has died, and your new life is kept with Christ in God. Christ is your life, and when he comes again, you will share in his glory. So put all evil things out of your life: sexual sinning, doing evil, letting evil thoughts control you, wanting things that are evil, and greed. This is really serving a false god. These things make God angry. In your past, evil life you also did these things. But now also put these things out of your life: anger, bad temper, doing or saying things to hurt others, and using evil words when you talk. Do not lie to each other. You have left your old sinful life and the things you did before. You have begun to live the new life, in which you are being made new and are becoming like the One who made you. This new life brings you the true knowledge of God. In the new life there is no difference between Greeks and Jews, those who are circumcised and those who are not circumcised, or people who are foreigners, or Scythians. There is no difference between slaves and free people. But Christ is in all believers, and Christ is all that is important. God has chosen you and made you his holy people. He loves you. So you should always clothe yourselves with mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”

See this tension? Though we are freely justified, but fitting the mold of goodness doesn’t come naturally. God will continue to do a work in us through the Holy Spirit, but we invest sweat equity too. We see this tension other places in the Bible as well.

God works in us for his good pleasure (Philippians 2:13).
God helps us bear good fruit (John 15:4).
God equips Christians to do his will (Hebrews13:21).

At the same time the Bible also states:

We must work out their salvation (Philippians 2:12).
We work to supplement our faith with virtue and good works (2Peter 1:5-7).
We commit to abounding in the work of the Lord (1Corinthians 15:58).

CHAPTER FOUR

Baptize meant to "put into" or "immerse" so that the thing baptized takes on the properties of the thing into which it was baptized. Garments were "baptized" in dye so that the garments took on the color of the dye. Cucumbers were “baptized” so that they became pickles. Christians absorb the righteousness that comes from Jesus’ death and resurrection. But part of devotion is making a choice about to whom you will offer yourself.

“Surely you know that when you give yourselves like slaves to obey someone, then you are really slaves of that person. The person you obey is your master. You can follow sin, which brings spiritual death, or you can obey God, which makes you right with him. In the past you were slaves to sin—sin controlled you. But thank God, you fully imitated the pattern of our teaching. You were made free from sin, and now you are slaves to goodness.” (Romans 6:16-18)

This “pattern of our teaching” refers to melted metal cast into a mold and conforming to the impression that is sunk or cut in the mold. They used to pour themselves into sin, and they conformed to its pattern. Now they are choosing to pour themselves into the truth about Christ, and they conformed to it. They looked like goodness.

If we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him…You should see yourselves as being dead to the power of sin and alive with God through Christ Jesus. So, do not let sin control your life here on earth so that you do what your sinful self wants to do. Do not offer the parts of your body to serve sin, as things to be used in doing evil. Instead, offer yourselves to God as people who have died and now live. Offer the parts of your body to God to be used in doing good. Sin will not be your master, because you are not under law but under God’s grace. (Romans 6:1-8; 11-14)

“To live” in something was to be wholly given to it. An ancient writer, Aelian, wrote: “The Tapyrians are such lovers of wine, that they live in wine; and the principal part of their life is devoted to it.” Not only do we soak up righteousness (which is a passive word of transformation), we can be wholeheartedly devoted (an active verb).

Chapter Five

Sanctification is Holy Spirit-empowered obedience as an act of worship in response to grace. When we see our righteous works as responsive worship to a God who so deeply loves us, our obedience, our righteous acts, become a profoundly personal expression of trust in God. Conformity to the image of Christ follows commitment and obedience. We aren’t obedient in order to be justified; we are obedient so we can increasingly enjoy the life we have been given in and through Christ. Sanctification reminds us:

We need renewal and transformation all the time.
What we choose to do matters. Live well.
God does not coerce; God invites. We must invite others.
God’s Spirit and ongoing grace are vital. Be humble.
A sanctifying God loves unsanctified people. We should love them, too.