Tag: Jesus

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Dangerous

“Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” – Matthew 10:34

We live in a dangerous world. Terrorist threats, environmental disasters, fatal illnesses, financial ruin, hatred, violence, persecution, accusations, anger … one might be forgiven giving up hope with the headlines that scream at us from every quarter 24 hours a day.

Yet there is another danger living in our midst, a danger far deeper yet more profound: the danger of faith.

A Dangerous Man

Re-read the passage above. “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” These words in Matthew 10 are from an extended conversation Jesus had with his twelve disciples, instructing them on the meaning of following him.

How can Jesus be the Prince of Peace prophesied in Isaiah 9 yet bring a sword?

Passages such as Isaiah 9:6, Luke 2:14, and John 14:27 all clearly teach that Jesus came in peace. So what did Jesus mean? Did he truly come to incite discord, to “set a man against his father and a daughter against her mother?” Was Jesus advocating violence as the way to build God’s Kingdom?

“Jesus Cleanses the Temple” by Carl Bloch c. 1874

Consider Jesus’ response to the money changers – using whips to drive them from the temple. Or his endless taunting of the Pharisees and Sadducees, referring to them as snakes and calling them a “brood of vipers.” Or his cursing of the fig tree in Mark 11.

Hardly behavior of a peaceful man. Indeed, in the eyes of religious leaders and authorities of the day he was dangerous – so dangerous he had to be executed.

Still Dangerous Today

The Jesus of Scripture is complicated, often seemingly contradictory, and always compelling – but at a cost. Many of his immediate First Century followers discovered this in brutal ways: Peter and Paul were martyred in Rome. Andrew was crucified at Patras in Greece. Thomas was murdered by Hindu priests near Chennai in India. Philip was arrested and crucified upside down at Hierapolis in Turkey under the persecution of Roman emperor Domitian. Matthew was said to have been stabbed to death in the city of Nabadar, Ethiopia. Bartholomew was flayed alive, crucified, and beheaded in Southern Arabia. James (son of Alpheus) was either stoned to death in Jerusalem or crucified in the Egyptian town of Ostrakine. Simon the Zealot was killed in Persia for refusing to offer sacrifices to their Sun god.

And of course Jesus himself was arrested, mocked, beaten, tried, and executed in a joint conspiracy of Jewish leaders and their Roman occupiers.

The Jesus we see as meek and mild, the Jesus we try so hard to clothe in the highly-sanitized and politically correct mores of the 21st Century, the authentic Jesus known to his contemporaries, remains very much the most dangerous man – or human – to ever live.

Why?

At the very center of this danger is a very simple, stark truth: Jesus holds a flawless and uncompromising mirror up to each of us.

When we stare into the face of Jesus we stare into the face of our own imperfections, our own shortcomings, our own sins.

We see the face of failings so profound only the grace and forgiveness of an omniscient Creator can make right.

When we stare into the face of Jesus we see a love so impossibly deep and unconditional it is unimaginable compared to our own pale imitations.

We see the reflection of how the Enemy has worked his deceit into the very fabric of our lives.

Pilate saw this in his ultimate question “Quid est veritas?” (“What is truth?”).  Caiaphas saw it in his demand “Tell us if you are the Messiah, the Son of God.”

We see it every time we challenge God’s sovereignty over our lives. We see it any time we place Jesus anywhere except front and center.

When we allow our lives, our possessions, our positions, our wealth – when we allow anything to be more important to us than our love for Jesus, we step into the very center of the danger of Jesus’ anger at our hypocrisy. Conversely, when we place our love for Jesus above everything else we face the ridicule and hostility of a world bent on removing Jesus from all parts of our lives.

Jesus Calls Us Out and Sends Us

Jesus calls us out. He challenges us to confront the logs in our own eyes. And then he goes further. He sends us. He tells us in order to be his disciples we must brave the dangerous ridicule, scorn, and rejection of the world. He shows us God’s Kingdom is not some distant imaginary destination we will someday reach after our journey as human beings is complete, but is instead right here, right now, in the midst of us.

Jesus teaches us to live dangerously in his promise:

  • To boldly pray for God’s hand to guide our lives and to be prepared when God answers.
  • To forgive those who do us wrong – even when that wrong seems unforgivable. “Forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father who is in heaven will also forgive you your transgressions,” Jesus tells us in Mark 11:25.
  • To deny ourselves, take up our crosses daily, and follow him.
  • To live fully in the knowledge that while we may “be hated by all” because of his name, those who endure to the end will be saved.

The Safest Place of All

Following Jesus – truly following him with every fiber of who we are – may not feel safe in a culture trying desperately to deny him. In truth, by the standards of the world it’s not “safe” at all. Following Jesus is dangerous, because Jesus himself, the very incarnation of God, is dangerous.

He is dangerous when angered by our actions or lack of actions, or when we fail to bear fruit but expect our secure place in the garden, or when we feign worship with empty hypocrisy. He’s dangerous when he puts the limitless power of prayer into our frail hands. He’s dangerous when he demands we forgive unconditionally, even should it cost us our lives.

Why would anyone want to follow someone so dangerous? Why should we entrust our love or desire that love be returned by such a dangerous man? How could we possibly be safe?

Because ultimately, through his death and resurrection Jesus overcomes the world. Through his willing sacrifice, Jesus defeats the Enemy. Because by knowing Jesus, loving him above all else, and trusting in his Truth, we actually find ourselves in the safest place we will ever be.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #10 Prepare

“If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.”

John 14:3

How do you get ready for Christmas? A beautiful tree with ribbons and ornaments? Mantle decorations and table treatments? One too many trips to the mall or site visits to Amazon? In my case, guilty as charged.

We typically begin our Christmas planning right after October and start the set-up Thanksgiving week. Yes, we’re those people. We love Christmas and surrounding ourselves with physical reminders of the season.

We’re not alone. During the Christmas Season, everywhere you look there are signs of preparation: wreaths, store decorations, snowmen, plastic Santas and reindeer on the neighbors’ lawns … everyone has their own way of preparing for Christmas celebrations. Anticipation fills the air.

God prepares

God also prepares. In fact, since the beginning He’s been preparing. His preparation also includes decorations and ornaments, although of a different sort. At times, His preparations have taken an entire people into captivity and exile. At other times, He calls new leaders onto mountain tops or into deserts. He has prepared by dressing elaborate temples with gold and fine linen, as well as lowly barn stalls with straw and rough hewn wood.

And God’s preparations have required much longer than a few hours over the weekend to set up. Countless people and many centuries were needed to unfold His perfect plan that mankind’s Savior would be born at a specific place and time, to a specific woman He anointed, in a specific town according to His prophetic instruction, to fulfill a specific mission at a perfectly appointed date.

This event was foretold, rehearsed for centuries, and planned by God at the origination of creation. And it is the very reason we celebrate Advent.

As early as Genesis 3:15, following the fall of Man in the aftermath of Eve’s temptation, God revealed the beginnings of His plan warning the serpent “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed.” These earliest foreshadowings of God’s prophesied the eventual conquest of the serpent by God’s chosen offspring. The offspring descended from a fallen woman and eventually born to a Virgin. A perfect preparation for a perfect answer to our frailties and imperfections.

“The Fall and Expulsion from Garden of Eden” by Michelangelo, 1509

The journey from Eden to Calvary was long, just as our own plans are often long. Of course, God’s plans infinitely overshadow our own. Still, we are asked to prepare. Every Christmas we remember Son of Man’s coming with decorations and carols and cards and presents. We prepare for his return in the season of Advent by remembering the past while anticipating the future.

The most important preparation

Yet the most important preparation we can make every Advent Season – indeed, every day of the year – is to prepare our hearts and the hearts of those around us for what is to come. As Believers, we’re ordained to be God’s beacons in the here and now, offering a glimpse of eternity to those who will receive. Regardless of life’s distractions, no matter what we see or hear every day whispering to turn away from God, our charge is to prepare for the future.

God had the expanse of time to prepare us for the birth of His son. We aren’t given that luxury. Instead, our role is to share the miracle of Christmas every day to anyone and everyone we encounter. To those who have never experienced the joy of God’s love. To those who feel abandoned in the world. To those who have lost all hope.

We prepare for Christmas every year because God has prepared the way before us. As we remember this Advent Season, let us never forget the least of our brothers and sisters. Preparing our hearts means preparing theirs.

Today, tomorrow, or even right now – find someone you don’t know and wish them a Merry Christmas. Or tell a friend you love them, remembering with gratefulness what God’s love means to us all.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #7 Stormy Weather

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

James 1:2-4

A while back, I was at dinner with a few guy friends. Predictably, we talked about typical guy things. Because we’re all of a “certain age,” our “guy things” talk was relatively tame. Relatively.

Credit: www.wisebread.com

However … one member of our party broke an unspoken “guy” rule in my crowd: don’t complain about the weather. Not the real weather, of course. Rather, the weather of our relationships, the weather of lives. The weather we can’t control but we can certainly anticipate. “Don’t blame the weather for getting wet when you forgot to bring an umbrella,” one of my, um, “older” guy friends fondly says.

Life is tough

Look, life is tough. We live in a world where the deck appears to be stacked against most of us. In Christian terms we call this a “fallen world,” a world where a very real and present enemy works to stain every part of our lives with fear and doubt and uncertainty.

Glass breaks. We get old (yeah, I know that’s hard to hear). Marriages fall apart. Loved ones get addicted to Opiates. Parents forget our names. Sexual harassment becomes an accepted norm. Alcohol and drugs are so common our children need rehab at 14 years old. A gun becomes a more persuasive argument than reason.

Credit: New York Times

In 1944 Ella Fitzgerald and the Inkspots released a single called “Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.” They borrowed the title from the poem “Rainy Day” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Both Ella and Longfellow spoke truth. But I prefer the original truth from Ecclesiastes 3 “For everything this is a season.”

Storm clouds are always on the horizon. Life pushes back. This is especially hard to accept during seasons of anticipation. Seasons like Advent when God may seem silent and unreachable. Seasons where we are asked to wait and trust.

The war inside us

The stormy weather of our lives should not be surprising, especially for those of us actively attempting to reject the temptations of the material world, the seductions of a physical life. It’s not easy to resist.

Paul tells us of the “Conflict of Two Natures” in Romans 7, a war being waged inside each of us. He reflects that in Galatians 5:17, writing “For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.”

Credit: www.kingdomrice.wordpress.com

The temptations of the world, particularly in seasons of waiting, are like tornadoes in Kansas. We anticipate the storm clouds, we feel the wind, we eventually see the funnel hit the ground yet sometimes we don’t seek shelter.

While we live in a fallen world and bad things happen to us, we always have control over how we respond – whether we bring an umbrella or head underground or simply give in.

Yet in every instance of adversity or waiting, we have a choice. We can choose to look backward or we can move forward. Notice we can’t actually go backward, only look there. And we really can’t stay where we are as life moves on around us. Look back or move forward.

Storms strengthen us

James tells us in the verse I began with that the testing of our faith builds perseverance. Surviving storms makes us stronger to future storms. Meeting and defeating temptation and doubt tempers us, transforms us, like hardening steel with fire.

We see this transformation in our choices. We can feel joy or bitterness. We can forgive or hold onto anger. We can trust or be suspicious of everyone. We can be filled with faith or plagued with fear. We can love or we can hate. We can offer mercy or seek revenge.

We can fill our hearts with hope. Or we can sink into despair.

Stormy weather and hard seasons are not meant to weaken us, but rather to strengthen us. They offer us opportunities to reinforce our trust and faith in God by hearing His voice and rejoicing in His salvation. Especially when the clouds are darkest…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #5 What Breaks Your Heart?

“I have listened and heard, they have spoken what is not right; no man repented of his wickedness, saying, ‘What have I done?’ Everyone turned to his course, like a horse charging into the battle.” Jeremiah 8:6

What breaks your heart?

I’m not talking about a badly-ending relationship, or even the loss of a loved one to illness or tragedy although these certainly cause us to grieve. Nor do I mean family betrayals like Fredo in “Godfather II” – we saw how that ended for both Fredo and eventually for Michael!

The broken heart I’m referring to here is different. It’s that mourning of the soul, that gut-wrenching sorrow we feel at our very core when we’re connected to what breaks God’s heart.

Credit: www.chickensmoothie.com

The Bible offers many descriptions of how Holy heart is broken. Broken by those who are lost and refuse to come home. Broken because of those who are persecuted and have no one to share their distress. Broken from the cries of the poor who have no means of support. And broken by our disobedience.

Broken by rebellion

600 years before the birth of Christ, the Jewish people had once again become increasingly rebellious and obstinate. For generations, they had grown lax in following God’s commandments, eventually seduced by the attraction of Baal and other idols and squandering the promise and hope of the Torah.

Eventually, God removes His protection and Babylon conquers Judah, deposing their king Jehoiakim and sending much of the population into exile. By 587 BC, Judah was no longer a nation and the memories of greatness achieved by David and Solomon faded. It broke the hearts of a nation.

The prophet Jeremiah, seeing the wretched conditions of his fellow Jews, had just such a broken, aching heart. He saw the misery of his brothers and sisters, the children of Abraham, the Covenant People. And he knew what God had called him to do, the hard message he had to deliver to these same people: repent from their sins and return to God. Their rejection of his message the eventual exile of Judah ultimately led to his death by the very hands of those he tried to save.

What breaks your heart?

Many of us today simply don’t equate broken hearts with sin. The very word itself, “sin,” seems antiquated, unenlightened, uneducated to the modern ear. And when God asks us as he asked Jeremiah “Why have these people turned away? Why are they always turning away?” (Jeremiah 8:5) we simply … turn away.

What breaks your heart?

The answer to that question isn’t always obvious. So, perhaps we might start with a different question. What breaks God’s heart?

What breaks God’s heart?

There are many things we might find in scripture to answer this. In my own journey, a few come to mind. This is especially true for those who claim to know God’s heart yet still falter.

  • When we don’t turn from our shortcomings. Just like the people in Jeremiah’s day, God’s people today – you and me and those around us – have turned away from God, often refusing to hear Him. Jeremiah’s people, like us, should have known better. They knew, we know, when the path we’re on is wrong. Yet we continue down that path, oblivious to where it leads.

We may confess, we may have a moment of contrite remorse, but when the pain passes, we ignore Jesus’ admonition in John 8:11 to “Go and sin no more.”

  • When we don’t live God’s Word. Like the Scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ day, many professing Christians today talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. We have our Bibles, we may go to Bible studies, we may debate and argue Scripture – but do we live it? Do we spend time the poor? Do we take in orphans? Do we look after widows? If we the only Bible those around us ever see, what does that Bible look like? And yes, I’m writing these words to me.
Credit: www.modernsurvivalblog.com
  • When we don’t realize how short the time is. Jeremiah commented “Harvest has passed, summer has ended, but we have not been saved.” (Jeremiah 8:20). A farmer who misses harvest time will starve. He knows how short the time is.

There’s a similar urgency in our lives. According to a recent study there are 2.1 billion        people in the world who don’t know Christ. Every year, 16-20 million die ever without hearing the Gospel.  This is our harvest, yours and mine. And the harvest season is upon us, this season of Advent, this season of preparation.

  • When we self-destruct. In my mid 20’s, one of my closest high school friends spiraled out of control, eventually taking his own life. Many of us at the time asked ourselves what we might have done to change our friend’s course, to ease his burden. There was likely nothing we could have done, but the key pain was that we did nothing at all.

God holds this mirror up to us constantly, reminding us that we are surrounded by    self-destruction. Where are we in taking the hands of others to help them through their struggles? The addicts, the prisoners, the lost.  How often does our heart break for those we see right in front of us?

  • When we refuse to let God heal us. Jeremiah cries out in 8:22 “Is there no balm in Gilead?” In Jeremiah’s time Gilead was a place of hope, famous for balm from a local tree resin that cured illness. Jeremiah was equating God’s voice and commandments to a healing cure for our broken lives, a salve for spiritual illness. Yet, the people refused.

How many people have you known who refuse treatment for their own sicknesses?  Perhaps a friend whose marriage is in tatters but won’t seek counseling. Or a work  colleague who is unable to perform but too prideful to has for help. Or an acquaintance who is spiritually lost but will not follow God?

Prepare by acting

Advent is about many things including waiting, expectation, hope. And it’s also about recognizing how God has given us this season of preparation to discover where our hearts are not with His, where we’ve hardened ourselves to what breaks God’s heart. When we see people from every walk of life ignoring the warning signs, ignoring how time is running short, refusing to turn back from the wrong paths of their decisions, refusing help … our hearts should also break.

This Advent Season, take a look around. See your neighbors, your loved ones, your adversaries, yourself. Where can you bring hope and preparation and expectation to the broken hearts of others? Where can you bring healing to your own broken heart?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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After the Storm

“Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples. – Luke 8:25

With dawn approaching on Friday September 14, millions watched as cable and television reporters stood in rain gear, bracing themselves against gale-force winds and breathlessly reporting on the landfall of Hurricane Florence. In the aftermath, the stories were all too familiar: multiple fatalities, hundreds of thousands without power, families stranded in their homes.

Hurricanes are vicious, unrelenting, and terrifying. The wreckage they leave in their wake is indiscriminate. They can destroy lives.

And sometimes, they can restore hope and faith.

Luke 8 tells of an episode when during a terrible storm. Jesus had just directed his disciples to set out in a boat across the lake near Galilee where he had been preaching for several days. As they made their way across to the country of the Gerasenes, Jesus fell asleep, likely exhausted from his efforts.

Without warning, a “fierce gale of wind” overtook them, filling the boat with water and potentially sinking them. These were hardened sea-goers, accustomed to rain and wind while fishing or traveling. This “squall” (as one translation calls it) should have been nothing to them unless it was extraordinary and truly terrifying.

“Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Ludolph Bakhuizen, c. 1695”

Moreover, the journey from Galilee to the Gerasenes is not a leisurely trip across a small lake. The Sea of Galilee, separating the two, is Israel’s largest freshwater lake, some 13 miles long 8 miles wide. A ship sunk in the middle of this lake would mean certain death to the passengers.

The disciples felt doomed.

Waking Jesus from his sleep, they exclaimed the boat was sinking and they were fearful for their lives. Unfazed, Jesus stood up and rebuked the storm, immediately calming the winds and the raging water. Luke writes that the disciples were “amazed” and cried out “who is this man?”

This story combines everything I love about Jesus and his faith in God. Not only does he remain calm in the very midst of chaos knowing God has a plan to turn all things to his purpose, but reading past the verse 25, Jesus takes no time resting, repairing, or recounting the storm incident. Instead he immediately gets out of the boat and faces down a man with demons, casting them out into a herd of swine who themselves drown in the very same lake his disciples had feared they would die just a few hours earlier.

The lessons we can draw from this are profound and meaningful in the aftermath of Hurricane Florence.

God’s Intentions are Bigger Than Our Storms

God’s plans are bigger than any storm we face. While we fear the unknowns and potential tragedy of loss, God is busy calming the waters ahead of us.

Why? Because there is always another “side of the lake” to reach. God’s intention was for Jesus to encounter the demon-possessed man amidst the people of the Gerasenes, and getting through a storm was part of that plan.

Our personal storms may not be hurricanes. Instead, they may be the unexpected death of loved one. Or we may lose a job and not know how we will pay our bills. Or we may be betrayed by a friend or a spouse.

Our storm may happen when life has seemed to turn against us so much, we don’t know where to turn or what to do. We may even hear the Great Deceiver whispering in our ear, “It’s no use, it will never work. You may as well give up.”

Yet to those who trust in God, the waves and the rain, the despair and the pain – they have no power. His intention is greater than our desperation.

God Interprets Storms Differently

In Luke’s account, Jesus is sleeping through what his disciples believed was a deadly event. Clearly, Jesus was not concerned – he was sleeping soundly as the boat rolled.

How do we typically react in bad times? Do we sleep soundly? I know I don’t! I have sleepless nights, anxious that God needs my help in sorting out my world. I want to take action, jumping into the middle of things.

The disciples saw their storm as a horrifying event that needed to be stopped. In truth, there was absolutely nothing they could do to change the situation. They were powerless, and this feeling of powerlessness impacted their faith.

Credit: The American Conservative

God, however, was not powerless, and did not consider this storm a calamitous event – He saw it as a way to strengthen the disciples’ faith in His sovereignty.

This has ever been so. The prophet Isaiah wrote in Isaiah 55:8-9 “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

Even in the darkest of times, when trouble and hardship crash down on us, God asks us to trust in His Word, claiming His promise for us. We see a storm, God sees an opportunity to bring us closer to Him.

God’s Instruction Surpasses Our Assumptions

We often place enormous faith in our ingenuity and creations. We build houses to withstand the strength of hurricanes – until they don’t. We invent earthquake-resistant buildings which collapse when the Richter Scale is a tick too high. We trust in ourselves when God is patiently waiting for us to place our trust in Him.

“Where is your faith?” Jesus asked his disciples as the storm raged. I imagine it was in many things: the construction of the boat, their own seamanship and experience, perhaps in the strength of the sails to weather the winds.

One place their faith clearly wasn’t – with Jesus and God. In the midst of the storms in our lives, where is our faith? In people? In money? In short term pleasures? None of these can truly save us, and often they can’t show us how to get through the hardships facing us.

Yet God reminds us that He has the power to get us through, to bring us to the other side of the storm. His guiding hand is there, calming the winds and if we listen we can hear His instruction to trust and place our faith in Him.

The aftermath of Hurricane Florence is still unfolding. There will likely be additional fatalities and extreme hardship. God remains here, in our midst, reassuring us His plans are greater than ours, His wisdom infinitely more complete than our imagination.

By placing our faith and trust in Him, we can see the through the darkness and know the truth in Paul’s words from Romans 8:28 when he wrote “God works all things together for the good of those who love Him.”

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Door Checking

“I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.” John 8:11

I read a disturbing blog post a couple of days ago from a popular and (among certain circles) well-known blogger, a self-professed “20-year Ministry veteran trying to… live out the red letters of Jesus.”

The post begins with a boastful “I’m going to hell.” After a lot of judgmental-sounding opinion condemning fellow Christians, he concludes with “Hell seems like a much more beautiful place.”

Consider that: “I’m going to hell, and that seems like a much more beautiful place than Heaven.” This from a man many consider a “pastor.”

I was unprepared for this.

And then I recalled Genesis 3:1 “Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman, ‘Indeed, has God said, You shall not eat from any tree of the garden?’” Three verses later the serpent says “you will not certainly die.”

“Fall and Expulsion from the Garden of Eden,” Michelangelo, 1510

Thus began the massive lie. The same lie being retold by popular bloggers claiming Christian credentials based on 20 years of ministry veteran-ship.

Which reminds me of a music video released 33 years left. In March of 1985 an all-star group if musicians got together to record a song called “We Are The World.” The song became an instant classic. The relevance for this post was the sign producer Quincy Jones famously posted on the studio door : “Check your Egos at the door.”

How does an intentionally-provocative blog post from an equally intentionally-provocative societal commentator using “Ministry” as a credentials shield relate to a 33 year-old song about unity?

Without diving into the commonalities of “everyone is ok, no matter what they choose to do” found in both philosophies, I want to focus instead on the idea of “living out the red letters of Jesus” vs. “Check Your Egos at the door.

Follow me here. The “red letters” of Jesus were all about ego. They were all about personal desire and gratification. They were all about pushing down what we believe in order to embrace what God tells us is true. Even when it hurts.

And they were all about “checking” something at the entryway to the Kingdom.

Regardless of whether we call that ego, or desire, or “enlightened Progressive opinion,” Jesus was clear: what we must check at the door of the Kingdom is our sin. We may enter the Kingdom broken by sin, but we cannot bring the love and practice of that sin with us.

Credit: Rolling Stone

What does this mean?

It means that as true Christians reborn in Faith through the blood and sacrifice of God reconciling Himself to us at Calvary, those red letters of Jesus actually mean something. They mean what Jesus intended, not what our modern relativistic interpretations wish them to be.

And the most important red letters are those punctuating two encounters where Jesus heals or forgives: “Go, and sin no more.”

These words were most famously spoken to the adulterous woman following the encounter described in John 8:11: “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.”

Notice the lesson here for Christians: we are not to condemn others for their sins, even as we forgive them.  Yet they are also to give up those sins.

Check your sins at the door.

Contrast this with the Ministry Veteran Blogger’s implied conclusion: “If Heaven means I can’t be whatever I define myself to be, do whatever I feel is right for me, I’ll take Hell.”

I’m not checking anything at the door, and if you ask me to you’re just a close-minded (insert favorite insult here).

Credit: www.johnmartinborg.com/spiritual-art

God’s forgiveness is freely-given, but it is not without cost.

Forgiveness requires a changed heart and a changed life. Ask any betrayed spouse who stays in a marriage what this means.

Forgiveness does not free us to repeat our past mistakes. It frees us from the condemnation of those mistakes.

Forgiveness only comes when we ask for it. Returning to past sins, or falling into new ones, requires returning to our knees and asking God once more to wash away our transgressions.

Forgiveness requires obedience and subservience to God’s Word. The writer of Hebrews 2:1 states: “Therefore we must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away.” Believing we can rewrite God’s law to suit our lifestyles in the name of “inclusiveness” is a direct act of disobedience.

In today’s increasingly secularized world, Christians are too-often confused about the role God’s law and living a life of Christian love as defined by Jesus. We’re told the Jesus of modern worship invited everyone to the table, with no expectations or requirements. That God loves and forgives us in our sin rather than in spite of it. We seem to buy the massive lie that God does not mean what He has written on our hearts.

I don’t know what is truly in the heart of the blogger I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I do know this: his love for his own ego and self-defined version of Christian life is infinitely too big to check at any door, even the door of the Kingdom.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Love, It’s That Simple

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

A moment ago, the world was ordered. Plans were in place. Victory was at hand. Three years of constant travel to endless towns, encountering people at every turn craving the promise of hope they had waited generations to hear was about to pay off. Adoring crowds had hailed their entrance into the city with an extravagant parade.

The Kingdom … had finally … arrived.

Earlier, the group of brothers had assembled in an upper room away from throngs crowding the city streets below, watching with odd curiosity as their leader stripped off his outer garments, grabbed a nearby basin of water and a towel, and proceeded moving from man to man, gently washing their feet in an astonishing display of humility and service. “Women and slaves do this,” they whispered to one another, “not the Messiah!”

“The Last Supper,” Leonardo da Vinci, 1498

During the ceremonial meal, celebrated each Passover in remembrance of God’s Deliverance of His people from bondage, the man for whom these men had left behind everything and followed shocked them into momentary silence.

“Betrayal?” “Leaving us?” “What about the Kingdom?”

This simply couldn’t be. It was just … wrong.

An Act of Love

Every Christian knows this story from the Last Supper. My high school friend and extraordinary Christian artist, songwriter, and teacher Michael Card penned an amazing song memorializing the moment (“The Basin and the Towel”). The Supreme Savior of the World assumes the lowliest of positions to demonstrate the power of a servant’s heart to his disciples.

Today is known around the Christian world as “Maundy Thursday.” The term comes from the Latin word mandatum in John 13:34 meaning “command.” Jesus instructed his disciples in a new commandment following this episode to “Love one another.” Foot washing, while an ancient custom of hospitality in the Middle East, was redefined by Jesus as an amazing act of service and love.

But it was not the ultimate act of service. That would come later in the evening, foretold during the Passover meal by Jesus. He revealed to his disciples how he would demonstrate an infinitely more meaningful act of love and sacrifice in willingly walking into the hands of the Jewish and Roman authorities to suffer their sham trial, conviction, and execution in atonement for sins of the world.

The last meal Jesus shared with his disciples is described in all four canonical Gospels (Matthew 26:17-30, Mark 14:12-26, Luke 22:7-39 and John 13:1-17:26). In addition to the foot washing episode uniquely depicted in John, the key events in the meal included preparing the apostles for Jesus’ imminent departure, predictions about Judas betraying Jesus, and the foretelling of the upcoming denial of Jesus by Peter. As the evening unfolds, the scales eventually drop from the eyes of the apostles as Jesus calmly, lovingly explains the meaning of all they had seen and heard the prior three years.

He Didn’t Run

He wasn’t running. He wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t raising an army to storm the Roman garrison housed at the Fortress of Antonia overlooking the Temple. He wasn’t ushering in a sweeping movement of retaliation, or vengeance, or eye-for-eye justice.

Instead, Jesus offered his incredulous apostles an entirely different message. Away from the thousands that followed him wherever he went, Jesus looked into the eyes of his twelve closest friends and brothers and taught them a new meaning of Messiahship: love.

Jesus was blameless. His ministry was built on non-violence, healing, raising the dead, and freeing those held hostage to sin. He brought hope to the hopeless and life to those dying in darkness.

But on this evening, he told his followers the shattering truth: no one would thank him. No one would celebrate his acts of mercy and kindness. In less than 300 minutes, he would be arrested. Within 21 hours he would be dead.

Wrong. Just, wrong!

The smoldering ember Jesus planted in the hearts of his apostles that night in a tiny room a few feet above the streets of Jerusalem was resisted by every man sharing the meal with him. Yet within a few weeks it would erupt in a blazing wildfire that would spread the to the length and breadth of the known world.

The Ultimate Weapon

Because ultimately, Jesus demonstrated how goodness, kindness, and compassion could overpower the oppression and authority of the world more than any weapon or army. He revealed the most overwhelming and radical insurgency movement the world had ever known: a kingdom built on love, not vengeance.

In today’s world filled with sensationalized violence, hatred raised to an art form by endless media and wall-to-wall news coverage, celebrity-inspired self-aggrandizement pouring out of Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook, this simple story of love wouldn’t “go viral.” It wouldn’t last an entire news cycle, shouted down by voices more interested in self-promotion and personal agendas than lasting, profound changes of the human heart.

Muslim protestors, credit Walid Shoebat

But ultimately, Jesus’ story of love transcends all of those things. Because this simple story of love is not about one man but is about all of us. It’s the story of what happens when a world gone mad does everything it can to extinguish hope through violence, and hatred, and fear, and yet is overcome by the triumph of sacrificial love. In the words of Reverend Dr. Emily C. Heath, “It’s a story of love that was rejected and buried, and yet was still too strong to stay in the ground.”

What If?

What if the world knew us as Christians not by the Bible we carry, the cross hanging from our neck or the church we attend? What if Christianity was not defined by size of our amphitheaters or the production value of our music-filled services? What if our faith wasn’t identified by what we say we believe about Jesus, or how self-righteously we portray ourselves in blog posts?

What if, instead, we were known as Christians by our love?  What if we could show the world what Jesus showed his disciples that night, a world where we are united in spirit, walking beside each other, working together to build Kingdom-filled communities founded in love rather than dividing lines?

Tonight, as you reflect on what a simple act of feet washing memorializes, as we pause to join in the solemnity of a Passover dinner shared by a condemned Savior and his weary followers 2,000 years ago, take a moment to remember. Take a moment to remember not just what this night or even the coming weekend of Easter means, but what it means to be a Christian in the world of the Fourth Day, the day after the Resurrection, the day when light emerged from darkness.

Remember what it means to be a truly Christ-centered Believer. Remember Christ’s commandment from John 13 – to love each other as he loved us.

Love, it’s really that simple.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Safe Places and Other Modern Myths

“You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day; of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, or of the destruction that lays waste at noon.” Psalm 91:5-6

The news hit midmorning on, of all days, the start of Advent and Valentine’s Day: “Active shooter in Florida school.” Every day since, cable news and social media have been wall to wall with saturation coverage, shrill screams of “enough is enough,” student walkouts, and lockstep cries for yet more manmade faux solutions to manmade real problems.

Yet every proposed “fix” seems, in the grand scheme of things, hollow and sadly lacking any real core curative ingredient. Appeals for “safe places” in a world of unsafe reality.

How did we get here? Why do our daily lives seem and feel so much less secure than 10, 20, or 30 years ago? Are there really any safe places anymore?

In times of hardship or tragedy there is a natural desire to seek instant answers, immediate solutions ensuring we can step safely outside our door. We build houses with safe rooms. We pass laws to eliminate every perceivable type of danger. We legislate, regulate, and adjudicate every conceivable facet of life to make ourselves “safer.”

No Safe Places

The truth is no place on earth is safe enough to protect us from the inescapable certainties of life. No amount of money can shield us from the ravages of aging, disease, and death. No one we know, no where we go can ultimately protect us this truth: human life has a 100% mortality rate.

To be sure, we try.

We seek safety in more government oversight from our elected officials. Perhaps we seek safety in our churches and pastors. We seek safety online and on social media, with like-minded people saying like-minded things. Some even seek safety in barricading themselves behind walls and storing entire arsenals for protection.

Is there really safety in numbers?

In each of these, a common thread emerges: we seek safety in ourselves, in human devices. And almost always, we are disappointed and even heartbroken.

Jeremiah spoke of the dangers we face in placing our trust in each other (or even, as seems to be wildly en vogue the last few days, our children) rather than in God:

“Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind and makes flesh his strength, and whose heart turns away from the Lord. For he will be like a bush in the desert and … live in stony wastes in the wilderness, a land of salt without inhabitant.” (Jeremiah 17:5-6)

There is no safe place in surrender to fear. There is no safe place in blaming politicians or organizations for doing exactly what their constituents allow them to do, abdicating the responsibility of citizenship for creature comforts and diversions. There is no safe place in trusting our own so-called wisdom.

Yes, Evil is Real

Here is truth: evil is real. Since the first lie planted in the hearts of man turned us away from God’s perfection in the garden, we – mankind – have chosen to do evil things. It’s hardwired into our collective psyche.

Paul writes in Romans 5:12 “just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned— for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given.” Insert “evil” for “sin” and the picture gets clearer.

Credit: NBC News

Which brings us back to the events in Florida last week. A nineteen-year old broken soul, barely an adult, chose to live out the evil infesting his heart. He meticulously planned the slaughter, executing his deed with cold precision. He succeeded in shattering the illusions of safe places for those who simply expected another school day. 

No Easy Answers

Should we ask how? Dare we ask why? Of course.

Yet before we look for easy answers from the hearts of broken men and women grasping at something, anything, to prove they are not impotent in the face of evil, perhaps we should look at other things.

No doubt we can question the relatively frictionless accessibility to firearms guaranteed by our Constitution, and whether the time has come to reconsider its intended wisdom.

Or we can study the impact of a disconnected culture addicted to devices in the palms of its hands or at the other end of violent video game consoles.

Perhaps we should look at homes with single parents or no parents at all where boundaries and expectations and love for our children are absent.

Maybe we should explore the impact of ubiquitous psychotropic drugs and untreated mental illness all in the name of nonjudgmental tolerance.

Or even dig into the rise of bullying and the coarseness of society where social media allows anyone to say anything at any time with no consequence.

We should look at all these things and more.  And once we’ve analyzed and scrutinized and examined how man has turned creation into what we read in the headlines every day, we should remember that the influence all these things is not the same as the root cause for human suffering.

Wishes Don’t Work

Evil cannot be wished away, it cannot be legislated into extinction. Like water, it will seep through the cracks of even the most civilized and orderly society. Believing in manmade safe places is, simply, an illusion, a myth perpetrated by an enemy wishing delighted as we shake our fists at the sky saying “Enough! We are in control!”

Simply put, there is only one truly safe place: the will of the living God. As surely evil hides and walks amongst us, this is also goodness in our midst – vastly more than the media or our news feeds will ever tell us.

God has a design for each of us, and while we may not understand, He has a plan for any evil we create or endure. “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose,” Paul tells us in Romans 8:28.

God’s Purpose Can Never Be Defeated

No one – regardless of how deranged or evil – can succeed in blocking God’s purposes. Yet, when we remove the light of God’s Truth and replace it with the world’s standards, we are left to wander blind on our own paths of disobedience.

And sadly, sometimes that disobedience hurts even the innocents, the bystanders. Such is the consequence for a world in denial searching for safety where none exists.

There are no adequate words of comfort we can ever give to the parent of a child lost so senselessly, just as there is no easy consolation to someone suffering from a terminal disease or a spouse suffering betrayal.

Brothers and sisters, safety is found in the shelter of God’s love. “I the Lord do no not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed,” God speaks through His prophet in Malachi 3:6.

Take comfort in knowing His love never diminishes, His Light is always right there with us.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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A Bad Day

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Romans 5:3-5

I recently had a call from a friend who needed to vent. He was having a bad day. His wife was nagging about how he didn’t help out around the house, one of his kids was having problems in school, his boss was on his back about performance, and his beloved football team hadn’t made it into the playoffs. To top it off, his golf game was suffering. It was truly an apocalypse.

Every day we’re bombarded with stories of hardship. Some of these tug at our heartstrings: mothers losing their children needlessly to senseless crime; cancer ravishing the lives of families who must face unplanned catastrophes; the unimaginably impoverished barely surviving in far-flung places where even food and water are rare.

“Honest, officer, I just needed a quick place to park.”

And then, there are the fabricated stories of hardship. Tales of illegal immigrants who have been deported multiple times but are still being “persecuted” when they return to this country and break the law. Christians who claim they are being unfairly judged because of their scriptural interpretations. Culturally-sensitive types who reject any commentary they find specifically offensive to their delicate psyches.

A Tame World

The world today is, in many ways, tame. Creature comforts we deem as “bare minimums” would have been seen as impossibly extravagant luxuries a mere 100 years ago: large screen televisions in multiple rooms, smart phones permanently attached to our hands, churches wide open on every street corner offering whatever flavor of Christianity a consumer-oriented seeker desires, regardless of how authentically it follows scripture.

Perhaps I’m being harsh. No doubt some might find my framing of this topic already tainted with bias. Yet as I reflect on the unique 21st Century sentiments of those who feel life is treating them unfairly, I’m reminded of the struggles of 14 very real and very specific individuals who pledged their lives to proclaim Truth into the world nearly 2,000 years ago.

When Jesus ascended 40 days after his resurrection around 33 AD, there were exactly 11 Apostles and approximately 500 total followers in the entire world. 511 people who heard the ministry of Jesus and believed his Gospel. Almost immediately, Jesus’ followers were subject to the most horrific forms of persecution. They were hunted, beaten, sometimes stoned, almost unanimously ostracized. They had every reason to run from the call God placed on their hearts for an easier life, but they did not.

Persecuted for Faith

And what of Jesus’ Apostles? Consider what happened to each of those who were closest to Jesus life and ministry in the short 30 years following his resurrection:

  • James, older brother of John, is run through with a sword by Herod Agrippa in Jerusalem
  • Philip is crucified upside down in Asia
  • Bartholomew is skinned alive and beheaded in Armenia
  • Thomas (who doubted the resurrection) is stabbed to death by Hindu priests in Punjab, India
  • Matthew is martyred in Ethiopia
  • Simon and Jude are martyred in modern day Beirut
  • Mathias is stoned to death in Jerusalem after evangelizing in Armenia
  • James the Just (brother of Jesus) is thrown from the walls of the temple in Jerusalem by an angry mob and stoned to death
  • Andrew, brother of Peter, is crucified on an x-shaped cross in Patras, Greece
  • Simon Peter is crucified in Rome upside down
  • John the Evangelist is thrown into a boiling vat of oil, emerging unharmed but then exiled to Patmos
  • Mark is martyred in Alexandria after becoming its first Pope
  • Paul is beheaded in Rome

Credot: www.catholiccompany.com

These men and hundreds of thousands of followers since pledged and gave their lives defending a Truth so many today take for granted. They didn’t look for comfortable lives, easy faith. They didn’t water down Scripture to meet the sensitive ears of the people around them.

John’s Gospel describes the final night Jesus spent with his Apostles during the last supper. Afterwards, he encourages his followers by telling them not to let the coming trials of the world stop them from their mission. “Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, also believe in me,” he begins in John 14. “If the world hates you, you know that it has hated me before it hated you,” he continues in Chapter 15. He closes Chapter 16 with “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

Life in Context

Friends, my message today is very simple. In the scheme of things, how difficult is your life? An IRS audit? Bills to pay? Your political candidate lost? Grumbling spouses? Someone’s Twitter feed makes you angry? Your preacher said something you found insensitive? These kinds of things are what stand between you and an unclouded relationship with God?

“For our present troubles are quite small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever,” Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians. Every hardship we suffer today, even in the worst of times, prepares us for a future in eternity if we remember Christ overcame the world on our behalf.

When we put our lives in context, our “bad days” might be seen as “best days” for others. Instead of looking for reasons why our lives are not perfect, perhaps we should consider how filled we are by the Grace of God’s love and the sacrifice Jesus made at Calvary.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

 

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Reset

“Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called.” – Ephesians 4:1

This time of year, I have three annual rituals to close out one season and begin another: I get into my closet and do my version of a clothing purge; set personal and professional goals for the coming year; and select one book of the Bible to read as an anchor for the coming 12 months. I call it my “reset.”

“Dive right in!”

Actually, it’s more like a “recalibration.” I’m not sure how desirable it would be to start completely over every year!

These rituals aren’t simply boxes checked to start a new year – they truly set the tone and pace of how that new season will unfold. And packing up unworn clothing items for donating both symbolizes the discarding of excess baggage as well as the sharing of things others may need.

Yet the ritual I most cherish is the selection of a book from the Bible to ground me for what comes next. Actually, in some years it’s been a single passage or verse, but this year my choice was Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

God’s Reset Message

I’ve often considered Ephesians a kind of “reset button” God offers Believers. In six short but exceptionally rich chapters, Paul (writing to the church in Ephesus some 1,200 miles away from his Roman prison cell around 62 A.D.) lays out the framework for what God has done in guiding humanity back from the long wilderness we’ve strayed into since the Fall.

Explore the depth of Paul’s words yourself, first reminding the Ephesians how God has given us all new life through Christ (Chapters 1-3), and then how God wants us to live in the grace of that new life (Chapters 4-6).

It’s the second half of Ephesians, the application of love and renewal in resetting our lives, I find most compelling as the new year approaches.

Fresh Starts

Many of us start each year with fresh thinking, lofty goals, resolutions to change. We’re going to stop this, start that, go here but not go there, spend more time with some people and less time with others, lose weight, make new friends, save more money, do more to help the poor or less fortunate, call our parents (or our kids) more often, treat our significant others better … the lists can be endless.

By January 31, however, life seems to push back. Old habits return, nagging at us to forget about resets and focus instead on the tried and true, the clutter and yokes of yesterday. What we aspire to become gets entangled in those things to which we still stubbornly cling.

Credit: www.whatwillmatter.com

For some, it’s as though we fear letting go of the past, holding close those feelings and emotions that both helped and hindered us in the past. Like hoarders of things hiding in the corners of our closets, gradually crowding out room for anything new. We hoard heartbreak, broken relationships, disappointments, anger, past glories, addictions, suspicions and doubts … it often seems we hold onto anything preventing us from experiencing the new heart God gives all Believers.

Paul encourages the Ephesians to “walk worthy of the calling you have received.” He could be speaking to us today.

In accepting Christ into our lives, we become “new creations,” with old things passing away, replaced by fresh and new possibilities. And not just on January 1st but each and every day of the year. Because we’re united in faith, God charts a new course for us, a path made straight and clear, free of the emotional clutter and baggage of this world.

Put on a New Self

Yes, new courses are scary. They challenge us to rethink who we are, where we’ve been, where we’re going. A new job, moving from the comforting familiarity of home, leaving a toxic relationship to begin a new, uplifting one, forgiving someone who wronged us and allowing them to re-enter our life – all of these remind us of what God asks when we accept His call to turn our lives away from wrong choices and bad decisions. “Think about who you were,” He asks. “Did that really fulfill you?”

Paul echoes this, calling us to examine our old values, attitudes, and actions when we were at odds with God’s plan and compare that to who we are now, “renewed in the spirit” (Ephesians 4:23).

Before we can put on our “new self” we must discard our old self; stop following the ways we loved before we were saved. We must hit reset on our lives, making new choices in accordance with Christ’s character living in our hearts. Rather than submitting to fear and doubt, submit to God and each other in faith and hope.

This New Year’s Eve, as we celebrate with family and friends sharing hopes and dreams of the coming year, let’s not forget to get deep into the closets of our lives, cleaning out the old ways, the clutter and negative emotions chaining us to behaviors and thoughts we no longer need.

Try something new. Forgive someone. Take a chance on something that scares you.  And don’t forget to bag up those old clothes, that “old self,” and give it away. It’s no longer you.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #10 Prepare

“If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:3)

How do you get ready for Christmas? A beautiful tree with ribbons and ornaments? Mantle decorations and table treatments? One too many trips to the mall or site visits to Amazon? In my case, guilty as charged.

We typically begin our Christmas planning right after October and start the set-up Thanksgiving week. Yes, we’re those people. We love Christmas and surrounding ourselves with physical reminders of the season.

We’re not alone. During the Christmas Season, everywhere we look there are signs of preparation: wreaths, store decorations, snowmen, plastic Santas and reindeer on the neighbors’ lawns … everyone has their own way of preparing for Christmas celebrations. Anticipation fills the air.

God Prepares

God also prepares. In fact, since the beginning He’s been preparing. His preparation also includes decorations and ornaments, although of a different sort. At times, His preparations have taken an entire people into captivity and exile. At other times, He leads new leaders onto mountain tops or into deserts. He has prepared by dressing elaborate temples with gold and fine linen, as well as lowly barn stalls with straw and rough hewn wood.

And God’s preparations have required much longer than a few hours over the weekend to set up. Countless people and many centuries were needed to unfold His perfect plan that mankind’s Savior would be born at a specific place and time, to a specific woman He anointed, in a specific town according to His prophetic instruction, to fulfill a specific mission at a perfectly appointed date.

This event was foretold, rehearsed for centuries, and planned by God at the origination of creation. And it is the very reason we celebrate Advent.

As early as Genesis 3:15, following the fall of Man in the aftermath of Eve’s temptation, God revealed the beginnings of His plan warning the serpent “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed.” These earliest foreshadowings of God’s prophesied the eventual conquest of the serpent by God’s chosen offspring. The offspring descended from a fallen woman and eventually born to a Virgin. A perfect preparation for a perfect answer to our frailties and imperfections.

“The Fall and Expulsion from Garden of Eden” by Michelangelo, 1509

The journey from Eden to Calvary was long, just as our own plans are often long. Of course, God’s plans infinitely overshadow our own. Still, we are asked to prepare. Every Christmas we remember Son of Man’s coming with decorations and carols and cards and presents. We prepare for his return in the season of Advent by remembering the past while anticipating the future.

The Most Important Preparation

Yet the most important preparation we can make every Advent Season – indeed, every day of the year – is to prepare our hearts and the hearts of those around us for what is to come. As Believers, we’re ordained to be God’s beacons in the here and now, offering a glimpse of eternity to those who will receive. Regardless of life’s distractions, no matter what we see or hear every day whispering to turn away from God, our charge is to prepare for the future.

God had the expanse of time to prepare us for the birth of His son. We aren’t given that luxury. Instead, our role is to share the miracle of Christmas every day to anyone and everyone we encounter. To those who have never experienced the joy of God’s love. To those who feel abandoned in the world. To those who have lost all hope.

We prepare for Christmas every year because God has prepared the way before us. As we remember this Advent Season, let us never forget the least of our brothers and sisters. Preparing our hearts means preparing theirs.

Today, tomorrow find someone you don’t know and wish them a Merry Christmas. Or tell a friend you love them, remembering with gratefulness what God’s love means to us all.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #5 What Breaks Your Heart?

“I have listened and heard, they have spoken what is not right; no man repented of his wickedness, saying, ‘What have I done?’ Everyone turned to his course, like a horse charging into the battle.” Jeremiah 8:6 

What breaks your heart?

I’m not talking about a badly-ending relationship, or even the loss of a loved one to illness or tragedy although these certainly cause us to grieve. Nor do I mean family betrayals like Fredo in “Godfather II” – we saw how that ended for both Fredo and eventually for Michael!

The broken heart I’m referring to here is different. It’s that mourning of the soul, that gut-wrenching sorrow we feel at our very core when we’re connected to what breaks God’s heart.

Credit: www.chickensmoothie.com

The Bible offers many descriptions of how Holy heart is broken. Broken by those who are lost and refuse to come home. Broken because of those who are persecuted and have no one to share their distress. Broken from the cries of the poor who have no means of support. And broken by our disobedience.

Broken by Rebellion

600 years before the birth of Christ, the Jewish people had once again become increasingly rebellious and obstinate. For generations, they had grown lax in following God’s commandments, eventually seduced by the attraction of Baal and other idols and squandering the promise and hope of the Torah.

Eventually, God removes His protection and Babylon conquers Judah, deposing their king Jehoiakim and sending much of the population into exile. By 587 BC, Judah was no longer a nation and the memories of greatness achieved by David and Solomon faded. It broke the hearts of a nation.

The prophet Jeremiah, seeing the wretched conditions of his fellow Jews, had just such a broken, aching heart. He saw the misery of his brothers and sisters, the children of Abraham, the Covenant People. And he knew what God had called him to do, the hard message he had to deliver to these same people: repent from their sins and return to God. Their rejection of his message the eventual exile of Judah ultimately led to his death by the very hands of those he tried to save.

What breaks your heart?

Many of us today simply don’t equate broken hearts with sin. The very word itself, “sin,” seems antiquated, unenlightened, uneducated to the modern ear. And when God asks us as he asked Jeremiah “Why have these people turned away? Why are they always turning away?” (Jeremiah 8:5) we simply … turn away.

What breaks your heart?

The answer to that question isn’t always obvious. So, perhaps we might start with a different question. What breaks God’s heart?

There are many things we might find in scripture to answer this. In my own journey, a few come to mind. This is especially true for those who claim to know God’s heart yet still falter.

  • When we don’t turn from our shortcomings. Just like the people in Jeremiah’s day, God’s people today – you and me and those around us – have turned away from God, often refusing to hear Him. Jeremiah’s people, like us, should have known better. They knew, we know, when the path we’re on is wrong. Yet we continue down that path, oblivious to where it leads.

We may confess, we may have a moment of contrite remorse, but when the pain passes, we ignore Jesus’ admonition in John 8:11 to “Go and sin no more.”

  • When we don’t live God’s Word. Like the Scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ day, many professing Christians today talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. We have our Bibles, we may go to Bible studies, we may debate and argue Scripture – but do we live it? Do we spend time the poor? Do we take in orphans? Do we look after widows? If we the only Bible those around us ever see, what does that Bible look like? And yes, I’m writing these words to me.

Credit: www.modernsurvivalblog.com

  • When we don’t realize how short the time is. Jeremiah commented “Harvest has passed, summer has ended, but we have not been saved.” (Jeremiah 8:20). A farmer who misses harvest time will starve. He knows how short the time is.

There’s a similar urgency in our lives. According to a recent study there are 2.1 billion people in the world who don’t know Christ. Based on annualized death rates, 16-20 million die every year without hearing the Gospel.  This is our harvest, yours and mine. And the harvest season is upon us, this season of Advent, this season of preparation.

  • When we self-destruct. In my late 20’s, one of my closest high school friends spiraled out of control, eventually taking his own life. Many of us at the time asked ourselves what we might have done to change our friend’s course, to ease his burden. There was likely nothing we could have done, but the key pain was that we did nothing at all.

God holds this mirror up to us constantly, reminding us that we are surrounded by self-destruction. Where are we in taking the hands of others to help them through their struggles? The addicts, the prisoners, the lost.  How often does our heart break for those we see right in front of us?

  • When we refuse to let God heal us. Jeremiah cries out in 8:22 “Is there no balm in Gilead?” In Jeremiah’s time Gilead was a place of hope, famous for balm from a local tree resin that cured illness. Jeremiah was equating God’s voice and commandments to a healing cure for our broken lives, a salve for spiritual illness. Yet, the people refused.

How many people have you known who refuse treatment for their own sicknesses? Perhaps a friend whose marriage is in tatters but won’t seek counseling. Or a work colleague who is unable to perform but too prideful to has for help. Or an acquaintance who is spiritually lost but will not follow God?

Prepare by Acting

Advent is about many things including waiting, expectation, hope. And it’s also about recognizing how God has given us this season of preparation to discover where our hearts are not with His, where we’ve hardened ourselves to what breaks God’s heart. When we see people from every walk of life ignoring the warning signs, ignoring how time is running short, refusing to turn back from the wrong paths of their decisions, refusing help … our hearts should also break.

This Advent Season, take a look around. See your neighbors, your loved ones, your adversaries, yourself. Where can you bring hope and preparation and expectation to the broken hearts of others? Where can you bring healing to your own broken heart?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #4 Hope

“When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, ‘Do you wish to get well?’” John 5:6 

James Cameron is an accomplished inventor, engineer, philanthropist, and deep-sea explorer. He’s also directed a couple of movies you may have seen – do The Terminator, Titanic, or Avatar ring any bells? Cameron is famous for many things, but one of his traits I find most inspiring from a secular business perspective is his drive and focus. He once famously said “Hope is not a strategy. Luck is not a factor. Fear is not an option.”

Credit: Peter Woolston

As a business guy, I embrace this statement completely. As a Christian, I take issue with its initial sentence. “Hope,” as it turns out, is a key pillar of faith.

Reflecting on the vanity of life and how short his days were in the face of his personal weaknesses, David writes in Psalm 39: “And now, Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You.” Confronting his own frailty, David turns to the only source of strength he knows will not fail him – hope in God.

Hope, as it turns out, is a common trait in our faith. Paul refers to “hope” at least five times in his letter to the Romans. Hope is all over the book of Psalms. Hope punctuates Jesus’ ministry at every turn. Hope saved Job from despair.

Hope helps us change the way we view the world, offering us light in the midst of darkness. Lack of hope has the exact opposite effect.

Hope Works

A friend I’ve recently met is struggling in his marriage. When we talk about where the difficulties lie, the common theme is that he has given up hope of any resolution, resigned to endless struggle. His life is filled with depression and despair.

Another acquaintance of mine was just told his wife’s breast cancer thought to be in remission has re-emerged, metastasized in her liver and spine. His reaction? Absolute hope and faith in God’s power to heal her once again.

Credit: http://www.2911church.com/

Two scenarios, two different responses. The common thread? Given choices in life, we can respond with fear and gloom, or with hope and faith. In either instance, how we respond can shape how God works in our lives.

Now, before anyone labels me a Christian Scientist or Jehovah’s Witness, let me assure you – I believe in science, in medicine, and in the skill of physicians. When a medication or procedure can relieve or cure an ailment, I whole-heartedly support it. That said, it’s established that a patient’s mental condition impacts their response to treatment.

Translation? Hope works.

What Do You Want?

We read a beautiful story in John 5 about the power of hope. After spending time in Galilee where he met the woman Samaritan by the well and healing a nobleman’s son, Jesus travels to Jerusalem, encountering a man who had laid beside the waters of the Bethesda Pools for 38 years, crippled.

This man came to the waters every day waiting for his chance to be cured, only to watch others take his place. At some point, he simply lost hope, telling himself this was his life, this was all it would ever be.

Can you relate to this? Has there been a time in your life when you simply lost hope? Maybe a dream you had, a relationship you cherished, a job you needed … gone or beyond reach. When we lose our hope, we lose our belief in ourselves. We stop caring.

“Christ Healing the Sick at Bethesda” by Carl Heinrich Bloch, 1883

When Jesus encountered the man by the pool, he saw something different than the man saw in himself he saw a human being who had given up hope, given up on his dream of walking.

Rather than judge him, Jesus asked: “Do you wish to get well?” A simple, straight-forward question. Like many others Jesus asked throughout his earthly ministry such as “What are you looking for?” in John 1:38, or “Why are you looking for me?” in Luke 2:49, or “What do you want me to do for you?” in Mark 10:36.

Jesus is not so much interested in the man’s affliction as he is the man’s state of mind. Did this man truly want to cured or was he comfortable in his hopelessness? Jesus realizes if he cures the man’s mind, his body will follow. And that is precisely what happened.

Anyone Can Lose Hope

Believers – even the most devout – can lose hope. Perhaps we’re surrounded by others who themselves are hopeless, draining us with their own lack of belief. Maybe having hope in the face of adversity is simply too hard, too much work. Or sometimes, finding hope can simply be too painful, leaving us exposed to heartbreak and disappointment.

Paul reminds us in Romans 12:12 to “rejoice in hope, persevere in tribulation, stay devoted to prayer.” When we lose hope, when we stop caring and stop praying, we create our own self-fulfilling prophecies.

Hope may not be much of a strategy for James Cameron. But during this Advent Season, I see hope shining like a beacon through the darkness and fog of a hopeless world. Hope shows us how God doesn’t just offer the promise of an afterlife in eternity, but can and will meet our needs right here, right now, in this moment, forgiving us of our shortcomings and changing our lives forever.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #1 The Waiting …

“For from days of old they have not heard or perceived by ear, nor has the eye seen a God besides You, who acts in behalf of the one who waits for Him.”  Isaiah 64:4

I’ve always loved music – any kind of music (well, I draw the line at Polka, but that’s a different post). Earlier this year, Tom Petty, a musical hero of my 20’s, passed away. In 1981, he released a song called “The Waiting.”

There’s a line in the song that says “You take it on faith, you take it to the heart, the waiting is the hardest part.” Many of us can identify with that sentiment, especially when we’re younger – I know I did. Waiting is, well, hard.

Stretching the analogy a bit farther, “the waiting is the hardest part” also describes much of what the season leading up to Christmas – and, ultimately, the season all Believers have been in since Christ’s ascension nearly 2,000 years ago – feels like.

“Pssst … Santa, you up there?”

As kids, we “wait” for Santa and his magical sleigh. As adults, we “wait” for gift-giving and Holiday parties. For Christians, Advent is a season of expectation, a time of preparation. Advent reminds us to wait and prepare for the inevitable return of Christ just as he came during that first Christmas season so long ago.

Yet, I’m also reminded this time of year of a different kind of waiting; a waiting more immediate, more real, and perhaps more painful for many – both during Christmas and throughout the year.

Prayers of Waiting

This kind of waiting relates directly to prayers and the cries of our hearts. Prayers for intercession, prayers for healing, prayers for miracles we so desperately need. Prayers that the divorce our spouse just asked for doesn’t happen. Prayers that the doctor’s diagnosis of cancer isn’t real. Prayers that “what is” might become “what if?”

The same prayers of anticipation the nation of Israel cried out during the 400 years between the prophetic writings of Malachi and the miraculous events in Bethlehem. Prayers of waiting …

Credit: www.iprayer.com

Sometimes God answers prayers immediately. We feel the imminence and power of His hand in our lives and reach out to tell everyone about the amazing goodness of His love.

But other times – perhaps too often for many of us – prayers seem to be answered with deafening silence, miracles hovering forever just over the horizon. As time passes and God doesn’t appear genie-like in response to our plea-filled conjuring, our faith can falter.

Why does this happen? If God truly is the God of Salvation, a Savior who actually saves, why do we often feel so alone, so empty, so … forsaken?  Where is this God of Jacob and Abraham who sent His son to take our place on a Roman cross of humiliation?

Two Occasions

On two occasions leading up to and in the midst of his Crucifixion Jesus himself speaks for those of us facing times of despair. The first occurred in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus prayed with such earnestness his sweat became like “great drops of blood, falling down the ground” (Luke 22:44). In this seminal moment of temptation, he asks God to take away the sacrificial cup, to spare him the trial and suffering to come.

We don’t read if God answers, because Jesus answers for Him, saying “yet not my will, but Yours be done.” Jesus knew God saw his heart, and knew his deepest desire was to follow God’s will.

“The Importance of Prayer,” Sebastiano Ricci c. 1701

How many times have we been able to ask and answer our own questions of God in confidence? Too often, our prayers seem like one-way streets, shouting to God to repair our lives yet stopping short of asking what God wants from us.

The second instance occurred on the cross. As described in Matthew 27:46, “About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?’” Imagine the anguish of one who has been with God from before the beginning of time suddenly left alone, his prayers unanswered, his cries met with absolute silence. Yet still Jesus trusted.

Mother Teresa, writing in a letter to spiritual confident Rev. Michael van der Peet about the separation she experienced from Jesus, said “the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear, the tongue moves (in prayer) but does not speak … I want you to pray for me–that I let Him have (a) free hand.”

Hear the reflection of Jesus’ approach to God in her words. In the face of unanswered prayers, she acknowledges His sovereignty in all things.

As we grow in our relationship with God, more deeply understanding His purposes for us, our attitudes change. We come to realize how much God loves us and already knows the desires of hearts. Even when we’ve been waiting. Even when we think He isn’t listening.

The true meaning of Advent is this: Pray and Trust. Ask God for a need, show our faith in His Will, Trust in His provenance, and wait with expectancy and hope.

“My God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus,” Paul wrote in Philippians 4:19. His miracles are still here – Emmanuel still means “God is with us.”

During this Advent season, don’t fall victim to the belief hope is gone. Don’t build walls around your heart so you can’t feel God’s touch. Don’t deafen your ears to His call.

Trust in God’s promises. Lift Him up in praise and worship daily. Thank Him for the blessings and protections He provides and will yet provide.

Tom Petty passed away as all humans do.  God’s Word and His promises will never die.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Inconvenient Truth Is Uncomfortable

I wasn’t going to write this. Actually, I tried not to. Several times. But enough is enough. There’s an imposter in our midst, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A shill wrapped in the cloak of ecumenical authenticity. Someone like Simon the Sorcerer mentioned in Acts 8.
Who is this pretender? John Pavolitz, blogger extraordinaire and author of “Stuff That Needs To Be Said” and the invitational-sounding “A Bigger Table.”
Self-acclaimed “pastor” John Pavlovitz gets a free ride from thousands who read his cleverly appealing posts, sharing them on Facebook and Twitter to demonstrate some vague notion of progressive compassion. Inconveniently for the Truth, his followers rarely actually question his commentary. Because … politics.
Pavlovitz first gained notoriety after being fired from his church (for, well, not exactly specified reasons) and then posting a commentary on how parents should face the possibility of having gay children. The post went viral. Later, he published a “day-after” diatribe following the 2016 Presidential election immediately making him a darling of the Left who breathlessly proclaimed “at last! A Christian we can agree with!”
In the months since, Pavolitz has found another church to pastor and become something of a Johnny-One-Note, his posts dripping insults, ridicule, hatred (he seems to particularly love the word “hate”), and general disdain for anyone who actually reads and believes Scripture as they written. One of his favorite topics (more on this in a moment): the current President of the United States.
Perhaps at one point in his life Pavolvitz actually believed in the Word of God. Maybe he felt called to proclaim the full Gospel of repentance and salvation. In more recent times, John has traded whatever pedigree he may once have had as a true pastor and minister of the Gospel for the worldly applause of internet fame, cable news celebrity, and book sales.
Pavlovitz passes off his unique brand of Christian-bashing as “enlightened,” hiding blatantly partisan commentary behind the twin shields of faux religiosity and modern social justice bumper stickers. A recent post even attempts to strike an awkwardly fake self-deprecating tone with ham-fisted satire. Rather than humorous, it comes off as, well, desperately seeking.
I generally ignore writers like Pavlovitz and the mirth-filled followers they attract. Everyone is entitled to their opinions and their beliefs, regardless of how they may stray from reality or common decency. But out of sheer morbid curiosity I visited his site recently and saw the post entitled “Trump’s America Would be a Living Hell for Jesus.”
Let the richness of Pavlovitz’s arrogance hover there for a moment. He has apparently tapped into a direct line with the Jesus of the same Bible he rarely, if ever quotes! He’s seemingly found the secret thread into the mind of the Savior of Creation and discovered that this mind would be as focused on hating an elected civil servant of a 21st Century nation state as Pavolvitz himself appears to be.
This type of mindless claptrap could easily be shrugged off, relegating it to the endless chatter of modern online wind-shouting it has become. However, this post crossed a line for me. Mostly because those slavishly following his every pressing of the “send” key might actually believe his baseless assertions.
So, for the record, here are three of his comments from that post, each followed by a dose of reality.
First, he tries aligning the Jesus of the Bible with three popular victim identities in current culture: “A dark-skinned, itinerant, refugee Jesus wouldn’t be allowed in Donald Trump’s America.”
In truth, we have no idea what color Jesus’ skin might have been. Any suggestion would be speculation (yes, even idealized portraits of Jesus as a fair-skinned blue-eyed Caucasian). He was Jewish, born in 1st Century Palestine. Perhaps he looked like current Egyptians. Perhaps he resembled other Northern Africans or Palestinians. Or maybe he was as fair-skinned as Golda Meir, David Ben-Gurion, Moshe Sharett, Yitzak Shamir, or Shimon Peres (all Jews and all Prime Ministers of Israel). Throwing the “dark-skinned” reference is pure pandering and offers nothing at all in the way of informing us on the identity of Jesus.
“Itineracy” seems to be a badge of impoverished honor for Pavolvitz in attempting to prove his point. As though Jesus’ synagogue and teaching missions were somehow the same as modern day itinerant workers moving from farm to farm harvesting crops for domineering overlords.
In actuality, many synagogues in 1st Century Galilee (the home of the most religious and well-educated Jews in the world at the time of Jesus), were not large enough to support a full-time rabbi and so traveling, teaching, “itinerant” rabbis were common. These rabbis typically supported themselves with a trade (such as, say, carpentry), and while they were prohibited by the Talmud from charging fees for services, they were free to accept gifts. If John would like a brief lesson on this topic, I recommend this.
And as for refugee? Tugs at the heart strings, doesn’t it? Sadly, it’s simply false scriptural interpretation.
The only time Jesus even closely fit this description was as an infant when his parents fled to Egypt to avoid religious extermination because Herod believed Jesus threatened his right to the throne of David. Once they returned to Israel after the death of Herod, Jesus was a known member of the Jewish community, his family openly traveling to Jerusalem every year to worship.
It would be enlightening for Pavlovitz to cite examples of any refugees being turned away from the United States (even under proposed changes to current immigration law) when faced with the certain threat of death of their children because of religious affiliation. Take your time, John. We’ll grab some popcorn.
Next is this gem: “He’d be denied healthcare, detained at the airport, separated from his family, trolled relentlessly on Twitter by his followers, accosted by torch-bearing marchers, vilified by pulpit-pounding preachers, and branded a terrorist by the President himself in incendiary fake videos and fear-baiting Tweets.”
Where to start. Jesus never asked for a single shekel of government support, including healthcare. His “family” was mankind, as he himself declared in Mark 3:32-34. He was, in fact, “trolled relentlessly” by the Twitter equivalent of the day – the Scribes and Pharisees. He was ultimately branded a terrorist by the Temple itself and rather than parodied in fake videos was arrested, brutalized, and executed.
Then this: “A subversive, homeless rabbi who lived with the street people and publicly condemned and challenged every move by the political power-holders perverting religion to line their pockets.”
Subversive? Yes, to the Pharisaical and Saduceean regimes that had corrupted the true faith of the Covenant – not of Rome. Jesus had no commentary whatsoever about the governments of men other than his single response regarding paying Imperial taxes to Caesar. Perhaps Jesus was the original author of our highly-cherished “separation of Church and State” doctrine.
Here’s the truth, the “stuff that really needs to be said.” Whatever happened in John Pavolvitz’s past to create the caricature of the blogger we read today, his current claim to a progressive interpretation of God’s Word is, bluntly, misguided at best. He neither accurately interprets nor discerningly communicates the scripture he falsely proclaims. He’s simply a clever online wordsmith tapping into a despondent secular audience behind the label of “20-year ministry veteran.”
John’s followers “like” and “share” his posts because they, just as he, are focused on imputing Jesus’ message onto secular institutions and culture rather than what Jesus actually says. For John, the Word of God and the truth of the Kingdom is not sufficient – the mind of man is ascendant. John’s interpretation of social justice, tolerance, and morality are inventions of modern secular society. Perhaps compassionate for cable news, but untethered to God’s word. The Kingdom of God stands apart from governments of men.
A final comment John, if you’re reading this. Please know I have no personal animus toward you. Being in the business of digital marketing technology, I enjoy a good online success story. And no doubt you probably believe your mission is to speak to the “woke” folks among us. So you do you, brother.
That said, your definition of Jesus’ message is, in my view, self-serving and has little to do with the real faith of authentic Christianity and grace-filled salvation. I guess I just have this involuntary reflex against what I see as hypocrisy and blatant consumerism.
Believe what you may, but while I do respect the office of the Presidency and support many of the policies of its current incumbent, I’m not stupid, uneducated, bigoted, “ist-is,” phobic in any way, or uninformed. I don’t stand on soap boxes touting my personal moral virtue to sell books but I’ll match my private efforts to “live out the red-letters of Jesus” with you anywhere, anytime.
You can find me at www.miafede.com or @rdgreen on Twitter.
Oh, and I counted ten links to your website in this post. Do I get a referral bonus? I already bought your book so we’re set there (oh wait – that’s eleven).
Peace.
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Not “My” Sin

“I acknowledged my sin to You, and my iniquity I did not hide; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord;’ and You forgave the guilt of my sin.” – Psalm 32:5

“Look – it’s not like I don’t know it’s probably wrong, but God understands me and He knows I’m gonna sin anyway. So I’m ok.” The words hung thickly in a  noisy coffee shop as I listened to my companion unpack his story of infidelity, hoping I might offer the equivalent of a spiritual high-five.

It took a moment and another sip of coffee for me to absorb the depth of the comment from this friend I’ve known for a number of years.

“I’m ok.” Two simple words that, used in the wrong context, plunge countless souls over the cliff of false security. You may have heard this sentiment under different phrases: “God loves me just the way I am,” is a popular claim. “Why would a loving God send anyone to hell? As long as I accept Christ I don’t have to change,” argues another. And “Jesus never actually said that,” is the current rage with the Progressive Christian crowd.

How can self-professing followers of Christ hold such seemingly contrarian views to clear and unambiguous guidance from scripture? A couple of answers come to mind.

Confess and Carry On

For centuries, the role of confession has played a prominent role in both Protestant and Catholic denominations. Canons 12 and 13 of the First Council of Nicaea in 325 hint at the necessity of confession. In 459 Pope Saint Leo the Great (the very same Pope who turned back Attila the Hun’s attack on Italy) wrote “It is sufficient … to have first offered one’s confession to God, and then also to the priest, who acts as an intercessor for the transgressions of the penitents.”

Credit: www.epicpew.com

The argument for confession is that when someone unburdens themselves through sharing their deepest, most desperate secrets they form a private and intimate trust with God’s intermediary, thus opening the door for God to restore their relationship.

Unfortunately, in the case of my friend – like so many others – confession often replaces repentance, becoming a substitute for a truly changed heart. Substitutionary confession proclaims “There, I said it. I’m good now until it happens again. See ya next week.”  In these instances, words replace transformation and the “saved” soul is just a “guilty conscience.”

We see a lot of this in today’s culture. Politicians discovered taking bribes, only to admit their sorrow at how they disappointed constituents. Celebrities caught in years of sexual harassment, explaining away their behavior as a “generational” thing. High school teachers accused of having inappropriate relationships with students, apologizing for any pain experienced by colleagues or parents.

What’s missing? Actual repentance. No real change of heart, just regret at being exposed. Their actions aren’t the problem, the consequences of those actions are.

Paul cautions against this belief in Romans 6:1-4: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase? May it never be! How shall we who died in sin still live in it?”

God’s grace and forgiveness isn’t offered as a reprieve from the “all you can eat” sin buffet, continually filling our plates and indulging our appetites while having our weekly spiritual purge. Rather, He offers grace to entirely change the menu.

Scripture is Misunderstood

This argument is a bit more difficult, mostly because it’s so charged with identity politics. The approach typically follows the path of “Jesus never really said that,” or “the Old Testament was written before science understood XYZ,” or one of my favorites: “words don’t really mean what they seem to mean.”

Underlying this belief is a passage found near the very beginning of scripture, in Genesis 3: “The serpent said to the woman, ‘You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’”

“God doesn’t really mean what He says,” Satan whispers to Eve. Why? Because if God is serious and humans understood that sin creates eternal separation from Him, the power of temptation would evaporate.

Since mankind’s Fall, we’ve tried to re-interpret and “refine” God’s explicit instructions. The Old Testament is essentially the chronicle of our repeated failure to obey God’s commandments through the unfolding story of the nation of Israel, while the New Testament records the ultimate rejection of God’s law in the Crucifixion of Christ.

Yeah, it’s in there…

We’ve not really evolved much as 20th and 21st Century believers. Falling into sin remains, at its core, the rejection of God’s sovereignty. Instead of finding our identities in God’s design, we define God through our identities. Rather than adhering to God’s will, we demand our will.

In creating our own identities, we open the door to any and all interpretations of God’s plan, based solely on what we feel and believe about ourselves. Thus, we self-label as “true” Christians regardless of how many fundamental tenets we reject simply because we don’t believe they apply to us.

This philosophy claims my sin is not really sin if I believe it defines who I see myself to be – for as we read in Psalm 139:14 “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Therefore, God must love me because He made me this way.

Credit: 412teens.org

Any call to change who I am – regardless of what may be found in “outdated” scriptures – would imply God made a mistake with me. Being perfectly unblemished and perfectly tolerant, God would never make that mistake. So what you call sin, I (and my God) call self-realization. In the words of celebrity pastors such as Hillsong’s Carl Lentz, “People just have to live out their own convictions.”

There’s so much to unpack there it would take volumes explore. Yet God, in His infinite and mysterious mastery of grace, allows us our freedom to fall or to soar, to enter or reject His Kingdom saying “ok then, not My will but your will be done.”

The clearest mission

As Christians, we’re charged with a clear and unambiguous mission – love each other and those around us while focusing every ounce of our faith and belief on God’s ultimate sovereignty over our lives. Then, share the Good News of Salvation through Christ, confronting errant or false teachings with candor and honesty.

This can be terribly difficult when what we believe about ourselves conflicts with what God has revealed to us as His Truth.

After my friend shared his story I paused, not sure how real he wanted me to be. I could see his desire for approval, but I also felt called to hold up a mirror.

I reminded him that God never smiles on sin, that infidelity is called out directly as an affront to His desire for us. I shared the words of Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias: “When a man says ‘I do’ to his wife, he is simultaneously saying ‘I don’t’ to everyone else.”

True confession results in what Paul refers to as “Godly sorrow,” bringing repentance “that leads to salvation” (2 Corinthians 7:10). Without repentance, there is no changed heart. An unchanged heart is simply our way of going through the motions, asking God’s permission to continue in our sin without being accountable for the results.

Sin is not what we choose it to be. The world’s definition of the Good News is what A.W. Pink described as “Salvation by character.” Once we give up our belief in our own sovereignty and choose God, Salvation reveals itself as something entirely different: a character built by, and because of Salvation.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Shibboleths and Bigger Tables

“Then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: for he could not frame to pronounce it right. Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan: and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand.” – Judges 12:6

 Polish-born American rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the leading Jewish theologians and Jewish philosophers of the 20th century, wrote: “Speech has power. Words do not fade. What starts out as a sound, ends in a deed.” Rabbi Heschel knew the impact words have on the world.

Those closest to me know my love of words, and their power to create, shape, hurt, divide, and even destroy. Shibboleth – a term originating from the Hebrew word shibbólet (שִׁבֹּלֶת‎) and referenced in the passage from Judges 12 above – has long been a word used to divide and separate. In today’s language, shibboleth has also taken on a wider meaning, referring to any “in-group” word or phrase distinguishes members of a group from outsiders.

Credit: Faithandleadership.com

I was reminded of shibboleths this week while discovering a new website recently launched to “score” churches on how affirming they are of the current en vogue shibboleth: gender/sexual orientation. This site, whose leadership team is composed entirely of individuals rejecting anyone not speaking into their view of truth on the subject of unqualified acceptance and advocacy, is similar to other outspoken proponents on this topic ranging from pastors hoping to demonstrate enlightened cultural sensitivity to outright opportunists with impressive sounding credentials like “20-year ministry veteran trying to love people well and to live out-out the red letters of Jesus” who seize on cultural events to advance their personal need for adoration. As if those truly called to ministry ever exit as veterans (see 2 Timothy 4:7 on an authentic view of ministry).

I’ve referenced neither the site nor the pastor(s) in question – they don’t need additional promoting here and some of you may already know (or even follow) their teachings. My issue is not their belief structure, but rather a seemingly myopic and unrelenting insistence that Scripture is inherently wrong or misunderstood on this subject. And a demand that Christians clarify where they stand or be labeled as intolerant and “phobic.”

Their basic reasoning goes something like this. Scripture, while divinely inspired, has been “misinterpreted” by man. The writers of the 66 books in the current Protestant Canonical Bible wrote with a limited understanding of biology and science, with no way to fully appreciate the fluidity of gender identity and sexual expression afforded by 2,000 years of scientific advancement. To ascribe “truth” to the teaching of Biblical writers is, well, simply unintelligent and backward.

Good old-fashioned fundamentalism

One could spend an entire 3-years of seminary dissecting the intellectual flaws in this argument. Perhaps I’ll tackle that in another post. For now, I’ll make a different case. Proponents of single-issue Bible errancy is nothing new. Pick your pet doctrine and throughout history there have been those who will argue that the Bible is wrong because their belief is different.

In many ways, this is no different than good, old-fashioned fundamentalism. Endless versions of fundamentalism exist across Christian belief but one of my favorites to highlight is the King James Only movement. Essentially, these folks believe the King James Version of the Bible is the sole authentic and accurate English translation from the most reliable Greek New Testament manuscripts (the Textus Receptus or Majority Text). According the KJV-only advocates, all other translations have been corrupted either through negligence or intent.

Codex Vaticanus 354 S (028), an uncial codex with a Byzantine text

Fundamentalism of all stripes (but especially these two types) suffer from a number of strikingly similar problems, especially for Christians searching for a true and faithful walk. Here are a couple.

Rejecting historical truth for culturally-acceptable litmus tests

Those who believe a single translation from 1611 (or 1769) is the only legitimate English translation of the Bible ignore common sense and the rigor of sound scholarship born out over hundreds of years. Those advocating Biblical neutrality on gender relations simply misread or misinterpret the literal writing of scripture. Either way, in both cases advocates begin with a point of view and then search for justification rather than starting with the source text and reading for discernment. And often the “experts” they bring to their arguments are either self-taught, have qualifications unrelated to Biblical scholarship or determine they can play arm-chair psychoanalysts on scripture writers.

 Grounded in Gnosticism

Flourishing throughout the Mediterranean world in the second century AD, the Gnostics believed they alone possessed “secret” knowledge that made them somehow more enlightened. Modern stepchildren of Gnostic beliefs are convinced they are purveyors of the single truth and those disagreeing with them are unenlightened, uneducated, or heretics. KJV-onlyists believe they’re in on a conspiracy to corrupt the original intent of Bible writers driven by a diabolical agenda. Gender-neutralists argue they alone have determined the true, enlightened meaning of the Bible on this subject and those who disagree are morally inferior or simply unenlightened.

Single issue dividing lines

In both cases, their chosen issue is the “single greatest question” facing the Christian faith – a modern shibboleth, as it were. To the KSV-onlyist, a fellow Believer reading from a translation such as New International Version, Revised Standard Version, New English Translation, etc. is receiving heretical teaching from contaminated Bibles created by liberals bent on perverting the Word. To gender neutralists, the modern church is anti-God if it doesn’t embrace with unquestioned acceptance their definition love.

To be clear, I assume no evil intent from either of these camps. Unlike some strains of fundamentalism that maliciously twist religious dogma to fit a worldview of domination or enslavement, these folks aren’t executing a veiled, hidden agenda to challenge God’s Word or authority.

They instead claim a special interpretation of scripture which fits their view of the world rather than the divinely inspired will of God. They then use that interpretation to determine who can be inside their group, and who is excluded because of their moral or religious shortcomings.

A recent book by one of these advocates with a title evoking expanding the table of grace (again, I’ve decided not promote either of these camps here) makes the argument that God’s Love is not the “limited view” described in scripture but is rather something larger, a place where no one is rejected, no one is asked to change who they believe themselves to be, a place where sin has no clear definition.

What struck me when I read the book (which I did), was how the very thesis of the work itself was negated in the Introduction, where the implication was given that anyone not subscribing to the author’s worldview was somehow “outside.” The author went further in a blog post from a few days ago suggesting anyone who questioned his vehemence was unwelcome at his Bigger Table.

The true bigger table

We read in Luke 5 that after calling the tax collector Levi to follow him, Jesus joined Levi’s friends (fellow tax collectors and other identified sinners) for dinner. When confronted by fundamentalist Pharisees and scribes to explain why he was socializing with sinners, Jesus offered an answer that beautifully reconciles the notions of invitation, grace, repentance, and redemption: “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.”

God’s invitation and His table are, indeed, open to all – regardless of where we stand on this or that social issue, no matter how far from grace we may have strayed. The choice to “pull up a chair” is, indeed, ours.

Yet unlike the no-consequences theology of many in the modern “acceptance” movement, or the narrow single-issue theology of fundamentalism, God’s invitation has a single explicit price – repentance. We can come as we are, but to stay we must change, turning away from the life of denial and rebellion where He met us.

“Go and sin no more,” Jesus told the adulteress in John 8. Notice that he didn’t say “Welcome to the party, woman – now go and sin some more.”

Accepting a seat at God’s Bigger Table implies changing our hearts. It means leaving behind our insistence on pursuing the transgressions always whispering to us, the erection of walls to separate us from each other, or the belief that anything we do must be from God and is therefore acceptable in His eyes.

Shibboleths protected the Gileadites in their battle against the Ephramites at the fords of Jordon. Today, they simply serve as obstacles to a fully-realized Kingdom.  Jesus’ invitation is simple:

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Fearless

“The Lord is for me; I will not fear; What can man do to me?” – Psalm 118:6

The first draft of this post was written during the devastating aftermath of Hurricanes Harvey and Irma. At the time, I was reflecting on how helpless we often feel over things we can’t control, like natural disasters and illness. My theme was power and powerlessness. Recent events have changed my focus.

Instead, I want to shift to a different emotion: fear.

We live in a world of fear. Fear of tomorrow, fear of the unknown, fear of each other, fear of what might change us. We fear things in the dark, we fear strangers and people with different skin color or sexual orientation or religious beliefs. We fear our own mortality.

Credit: Reuters

The late hours of October 1 were erupted with the sound of gunfire as shots rained down on a large crowd of concert goers at the Route 91 Harvest music festival in Las Vegas. As of this writing (one week later), 58 men and women are dead – as well as the shooter whose name I won’t sensationalize by repeating here – and over 500 wounded. A stunned world cried out in dumbfounded shock, expressing an urgent plea to do something, to bring sense to the madness. And underlying that urge is an ancient, primal instinct: fear that we can never be safe.

Fear surrounds us

I recently revisited Luke’s Gospel and was reminded of this passage: “There will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth dismay among nations, in perplexity at the roaring of the sea and the waves, men fainting from fear and the expectation of the things which are coming upon the world; for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” Luke 21:25-26

While the focus of this post is not end-times prophecy, doesn’t it often feel like we live in a period very similar to what Jesus described? Fear surrounds us, gripping our hearts and paralyzing our emotions. Many of us seem consumed by a sense of dread.

Why should fear be so deeply ingrained in us? If as professing Christians we believe in salvation why are we afraid of harm or death? Why can we not find the calm of David in Psalm 23, walking “in the valley of the shadow of death” yet fearing no evil?

As children, we’re taught to fear the first time we hear the word “NO!” When we mature, fear plants deep roots and grows, for many becoming a dark shadow controlling their lives. The writer of Hebrews tells us Jesus became flesh and endured death on the cross that he “might free those who through fear … were subject to slavery all their lives.” Hebrews 2:15

Physical fear, the fear of pain or death, is natural. When it doesn’t control us, fear can protect us from harm and danger, helping us make prudent decisions and avoid miscalculated risks. Yet when uncontrolled, fear can replace our trust in God, substituting belief in a personality ability to deliver ourselves from adversity through actions. We often begin to believe in our own invulnerability.

In the news coverage following the events in Las Vegas, I was struck by the image of a lone concert goer standing in the midst of the carnage facing the lone gunman while everyone around him crouched in fear. Granted, he had been enjoying adult beverages and his unique demonstration of fearlessness is not one I might recommend, but his defiance represented bravery to many. It reminded me of another story.

2,600 years ago, a young prophet named Daniel was thrown into in a lions’ den by Darius the Mede (known in scripture as “Darius the King”)  for disobeying an edict not to pray to YAHWEY.  Undeterred, Daniel defied the edict and continued to pray, showing no fear.

“Daniel in the Lions’ Den,” Sir Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1614/1616

I don’t know where the defiant concert goer in Las Vegas found his fearlessness, but I’m positive where Daniel found his. Trusting in God, Daniel faced down wild animals that would have devoured him, knowing the outcome would be God’s will.

Be anxious for nothing

Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians “Be anxious for nothing” (Philippians 4:6). David tells us in Psalm 55:22 “Cast your burden upon the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.”

God provides deliverance from fear. He tells us not to let worry and anxiety grip us. In Jesus’ own words, “who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?” (Matthew 6:27).

Does this mean we will never suffer tragedy or hardship? No. Does it mean we won’t be a victim in a tragedy like the one that took so many lives in Las Vegas, or Nice, or London, or New York? No. But it does mean that as Believers our salvation is secure and God will guide us on the path He has set for us. Equally important, we know the destination awaiting us.

This was the fearlessness that drove the Apostles, virtually all of which were persecuted and executed for their beliefs. The same fearlessness comforted Stephen as he was stoned to death for speaking the truth of Jesus. It fueled William Tyndale, a key reformer who was strangled and burned at the stake in 1536.

Fearlessness empowered Dietrich Bonhoeffer to stand against Hitler’s treatment of Jews, resulting in his 1945 hanging. It burned in the hearts of seven Egyptian Christians murdered in January 2010 as they left their church in Nag Hammadi, Egypt.

And unwavering fearlessness based on trust in God surrounded the nine victims at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina murdered as they stood to pray in June 2015.

Credit: NY Daily News

Each of these and thousands of other similar instances around the world speak to the power of defeating fear. And they share another common bond: enduring love. In his first epistle, John writes “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear,” 1 John 4:18.

Love drives out fear

Ultimately, fear is self-focused. When we’re afraid, we’re almost always focused on something about ourselves – what we might lose, what might be taken away from us, pain or hardship we might endure. Fear drives us to distrust those we love, look skeptically at our neighbors and colleagues, hate those around us who have more than we do.

On the other hand, love is always about someone else, and perfect love is solely about God. When we allow the perfect love of God to penetrate our hearts, there’s simply no room for self-centeredness or conceit. And where there is no self-focus, there is no fear.

There will always be loss and pain and even death for as long as we draw breath. But the promise of the Gospel is that God’s salvation through the sacrifice of Christ strengthens our spirits and souls and bodies, giving us triumph over our weaknesses and victory in the face of adversity.

Faith in God’s love emboldens Believers. As Paul wrote to Timothy concerning the nature of suffering and faith: “God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

Perfect love derives from the acceptance of Christ as our soul source of comfort and salvation. God’s perfect love for us, believed by us, replaces fear with love. And where loves lives, hate and fear can never take hold.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Comfortable Church, Comfortable Christians

“These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33

I recently reconnected with a high school friend whom I hadn’t seen in years. He missed our last two reunions but we’re connected on social media and after reading several of my recent posts on Miafede he reached out for an opinion, one I candidly felt a bit unqualified to answer. Still, he asked so I wasn’t shy in responding.

My friend and his wife were struggling to find a church where they could both “fit in” and feel “comfortable.” He mentioned how “boring and stodgy” some churches were, or how “loud and edgy” others seemed. They tried the Unitarian route but that felt a bit too “new age.” He also shared how his wife had grown increasingly sensitive to the questions of politically correct tolerance and how “uncomfortable” she was in any church she felt was too judgmental.

A few months ago, they visited another church on the recommendation of a friend. It was perfect! Great music, beautiful campus setting, a super cool, not-quite-sure-how-old-he-is Senior Pastor who wore hip v-neck t-shirts, had a great haircut, and shied away from any touchy subjects like same-sex marriage, abortion and deep scriptural introspection.

“Who, me? Naw, this is just my normal hairdo…”

Instead, this Senior Pastor masterfully interwove the Bible, the Quran, Buddhism, Hinduism, Confucianism, Zoroastrianism (don’t you love how the Zoroasters combine cosmogonic dualism and eschatological monotheism like the metaphysical bosses they are?), this-ism and that-ism (quoting the inimitable John Lennon) to create a beautiful tapestry of feel-good theology where every sermon somehow led to the inevitable conclusion that our old-fashioned Biblical notions of God are just too small and limited. And above it all, this church was just so … comfortable. My friend gave me his new church’s website and was curious what I thought.

Scripture doesn’t teach a comfortable Gospel

Honestly, I was surprised. I’d seen many comments from this Senior Pastor in recent months, outspoken and provocative opinions on what “real” Christians should be in this inclusive, post-modern age. His theology, while novel, was hardly scriptural. It felt like more of a “build my audience” social media strategy. But that’s just the industry I’m in coming out.

Repentance? What’s that? Change our behavior? Why would God want us to change? Narrow gates? Don’t you know all roads lead to Heaven? Treating others as we want to be treated? Yesterday’s news. Isn’t love for each other just as they are the only thing that matters? After all, enlightened 21st Century spiritual beings have rid themselves of judgmental attitudes and treat others as they want to be treated, not as we wanted to be treated. Apparently, this last bit is a real thing known as the Platinum Rule (click the link and look it up).

Comfortable church. I somehow missed that phrase the last time I searched scripture. But then, my Bibles – I have several – aren’t redacted with all conceivably-offensive passages removed or softened.

So yummy!

A growing trend in recent years has been for churches to design “worship experiences” and “conversations” to attract “Christians” and “Seekers” who reject traditional Christianity yet profess their spirituality. And yes, I overused air quotes for a reason. An increasing number of self-labeled post-modern Christians want a comfortable church, conforming to their personal beliefs about life. Just not the church Jesus built on the rock of Peter’s faith (Matthew 16:17-18).

Religious comfort for many is often about social classification – wealth, education, race, politics, gender, social justice, and race. We prefer to worship with people who look like us, share our views, demonstrate our values. We want to be comfortable in our moments of worship. Is this what Scripture actually teaches us?

True Believers surrender their slavery to the world 

Let’s start with Jesus’ own words: “If anyone comes to Me, and does not hate … even his own life, he cannot be My disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. So then, none of you can be My disciple who does not give up all his own possessions.” (Luke 14:26-27, 33)

Ouch. If I’m playing word association, those aren’t my first thoughts when someone says “Christian comfort.” Many contemporary preachers teach “peace and prosperity” theology or “revisionist” understandings of the Bible. “God is Love,” they exhort us, He doesn’t want His followers to suffer or be uncomfortable. God loves us just the way we are. One popular self-described “20-year ministry veteran” blogger went so far as to publish an article entitled 10 Things This Christian Doesn’t Believe About the Bible. Basically, the writer could simply have left out the first two and the seventh words in that title.

When tempted by Satan’s promise of a comfortable life, Jesus responded with: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God” (Luke 4:4). Predicting his role as God in the flesh he proclaimed that “just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea monster, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:40). When asked about the path to the Kingdom he replied “Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (Luke 13:24).

Jesus promised many things, but a “comfortable faith” wasn’t on the list. The Gospel Jesus preached and lived was anything but comfortable. Even with the adulating crowds of his first two years and the thunderous reception he received entering Jerusalem during his final week, Jesus’ ministry was under constant attack and ridicule by the authorities and doubters. Ultimately, his reward wasn’t a mega seaside villa in Caesarea. He didn’t graduate from the synagogue to a lucrative career headlining 1st Century Talmudic  conferences delivering lofty how-to lectures on living your best life now.

Rather, Jesus’ ministry taught the sober, uncomfortable truth that God’s way is different from ours. To follow Jesus likely meant persecution (John 15:20) and hatred from the world (John 15:18-19). There would be no inviting homes and get-away vacations (Matthew 8:18-22). Life would be buffeted by trial and storms (Luke 8:22-25). Ultimately, following Jesus might end in betrayal and death (Mark 13:12-13), just as Jesus’ own earthly life ended.

True followers of Christ don’t focus on comfortable sermons and vague spirituality. They don’t throw out inconvenient scriptural truth. They don’t shop for pastors or preachers who “tickle their ears,” hoarding “teachers in accordance to their own desires” (2 Timothy 4:3). True Believers surrender their slavery to the world and are simply in the world.

A True Church doesn’t conform to comfort or personal desires. It doesn’t sample and poll to determine the next sermon series. A True Church teaches that we have been “crucified with Christ” and no longer live our lives but experience Christ who lives within us as we “live by faith in the Son of God” (Galatians 2:20). A True Church is made up of people living by the teachings of the Word, not by repackaged, watered-down socially-acceptable facsimiles.

“Seriously, can’t I just hear some great music and a rockin’ sermon?” (Photo courtesy Daily Mail)

Pastor John MacArthur puts it this way: “Only if the church hides its message and ceases to be what God designed can it make an unbeliever comfortable.”

I told my friend I was happy he and his wife had found a church. I also cautioned him to heed what the Bible actually says. To study and read for himself. To write down what he hears in a sermon and test it against scripture. Not simply trust the words of a well-spoken Senior Pastor promising an interpretive Gospel that doesn’t exist.

There is a True Church here on earth. That Church has one role: to call Believers and prepare them for eternal life. The True Church is doing God’s genuine work, inviting His chosen to repentance and the Kingdom. With or without the skinny jeans, fitted v-neck T’s, revised theology for a modern ear, or pithy blogs.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Fantasies of Obedience

 “Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools.”- Romans 1:22

Take 10 seconds and answer this question: what was your most lasting fantasy from childhood – the one you held onto longest (perhaps secretly still do) or the one that most vividly sparked your imagination?

True confession – here’s mine for the first time anywhere: when I was twelve I fantasized about joining the Jackson 5 as their bass player and 6th vocalist. The year was 1970, and the J5 had just released “I’ll Be there” in August. By September, I knew my life plan – I’d somehow be discovered by Berry Gordy and whisked away to the magical land of afros and bellbottoms.

Looking back, there were so many things wrong with this fantasy I don’t know when to start! To begin with, the only song I could play on bass at that time was a bad version of In a Gadda da Vida, but that’s another story.

We all have fantasies, things we wistfully cling to. As we grow up, most of us put away our fantasies (or so we tell ourselves), replacing them with grown-up concerns of daily life: landing that “real” job, getting married, picking up a mortgage, having a kid or two … you know – the whole “responsibility” thing.

Faith is no longer something we live, but rather something we squeeze in on Sunday mornings

For many of us, letting go of childhood fantasies gradually transitions into also replacing other so-called “fantasies” in our lives. We give up believing in Santa and Easter Bunny, and soon enough lose the belief in a sovereign God who guides our lives. We lose our fear of monsters in the closet only to find we no longer fear an Enemy looking to deceive us from a path to righteous living. Faith is no longer something we live, but rather something we squeeze in on Sunday mornings between pancakes and football (or Saturday nights for the sleep-in crowd).

And sometimes we not only give up fantasies, we replace them with new, “improved,” more comfortable and convenient fantasies: “someone else will provide for my needs;” “I’m not to blame for my own poor life choices;” “I’m the maker of my own salvation;” and one of my favorites – “I’ll be fine if I just play by Man’s rules.”

I call this last one a “Fantasy of Obedience” and it finds its roots at the very beginning of Man’s history … the Garden. Not satisfied with the perfect order created by God, Man listened to the whispers of the Enemy, believing obedience to his own flawed human will was superior to obeying God’s perfect design.

Comfortable theology is designed to obey our desires

How often do we fall victim to this?  “I don’t want to offend anyone so I’ll just agree,” one person says. “Well, the experts say the writers of the Bible didn’t know today’s science so …” says another. “Everyone says society has evolved and the Bible needs to catch up,” still others argue. And “I don’t need fairy tales to live a good life,” say those who reject the Word altogether.

Go ahead … take a bite!

Convenient and comfortable theology designed to obey our desires – theology eerily reminiscent of Paul’s warning in 2 Timothy 4:3: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires.”

Paul was not the only voice cautioning against Man’s obedience to Man. Peter wrote in his 2nd Epistle: “There will also be false teachers among you, who will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the Master who brought them.”  John wrote in his first letter: “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.” Jeremiah warned that false teachers filled their followers with false hopes, leading them “into futility.”  Ezekiel proclaimed in his prophesy that God’s hand “will be against the prophets who see false visions and utter lying divinations.”

And Jesus himself warned his followers of the same in Matthew 24 when he taught about false teachers during the last days: “For false Christs and false prophets will arise and will show great signs and wonders, so as to mislead, if possible, even the elect.”

Sound familiar? Visit the Religion section of any bookstore and you’ll find book after book from “Christian” authors justifying any and every interpretation of desire-based belief.

Humans are hard-wired to obey … and rebel

Humans are hard-wired to obey … and rebel. We obey when it’s comfortable or convenient and rebel when it’s not. The Pharisees and Herodians tried to trap Jesus in this very question as reported in Mark 12: “Teacher, we know that You are truthful and defer to no one; for You are not partial to any, but teach the way of God in truth. Is it lawful to pay a poll-tax to Caesar, or not?”  Jesus, avoiding the trap replies: “’Whose likeness and inscription is this’ And they said to Him, ‘Caesar’s.’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ And they were amazed at Him”.

Joachim Wtewael – The Tribute Money (1616)

We increasingly seem to render our obedience to man-made rules but fail to render our obedience to God. Man’s rules, filtered through polls and focus groups and public opinion and social media, are designed to manage our obedience rather than guide our righteousness – just enough to keep us paying our taxes and enabling those in power to maintain their positions, but not enough to offend our personal desires.

We render to Man’s rules because “out there” in the world we desire an earthly reward – the best looking, the most gifted athletes, the richest business icons, the most talented performers … if we just obey the rules society sets up we can become one of these privileged few. The world becomes our prize.

Ultimately these are little more than misguided fantasies. We gain adulation through obeying the world but lose something immeasurably more valuable – our souls.  We become like those described by Paul in  Romans 1, our hearts darkened, exchanging truths for lies, obedient to our own desires and “Professing to be wise, (becoming) fools.”

My childhood fantasies of singing “ABC” with the Jackson 5 may have been amusing. Our fantasies of defying Righteous Truth are, in the end, sadly ruinous.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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little faith – Big God

Let’s talk about faith. During my first year of college, I had the unshakeable faith I could daydream through an entire semester of differential equations, do a four-hour cram for the final and still breeze through the course (thinking, of course, that all 18-year old college freshmen with absolutely no interest in math but with great calculus test scores should naturally consider taking differential equations – as an elective). FAITH FAIL. A Summer School course erased both the failing grade and my misplaced faith. And cured me of any long-suppressed fantasies of a career in Quantum Physics.

We all have faith in something: faith that when we turn a light switch on in a darkened room we can see (assuming we’ve paid the light bill); faith that when we’re running late for that important meeting, our car will start; faith that politicians we vote for will actually do what they promise (ok – even I laughed out loud at that one).  The point is this – everyone has faith, it’s just a matter of where we place that faith.

Christian faith is no different. And it’s often complicated by its nagging companion: doubt.

Wait – is it even possible for a real Christian to be filled with faith and filled with doubt at the same time? What about that whole “omniscient and omnipotent” thing with God? According to Scripture, absolutely. In fact, it’s the hallmark of faith’s power. Let’s explore this.

Faith is not the absence of fear or anxiousness

First, faith is not the absence of fear or anxiousness. Rather, it’s the certainty that God will deliver on His promises, even, as David writes, we may be walking through “the Valley of the Shadow of Death.” Jesus himself knew anxiousness, as evidenced during his final prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane with these words: “Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14:36)

We can have faith that God wants us to do something and still be terrified. The courage of true faith isn’t found in not fearing our calling. Rather, it is found in placing our trust in God   and plunging into our calling in spite of our fear.

Faith doesn’t have to be Super Human to be super powerful

“I am in-VINCE-able!”

Second, faith doesn’t need to be Super Human to be powerful. We start with the faith we have: it may be miniscule, even microscopic, but that’s where we start.

Jesus demonstrates this in an encounter from story Mark 9 where a man from a nearby crowd brought his demon-possessed son to his disciples who were unable to heal the boy. The man, in a telling moment of little faith says to Jesus “If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

Testing the man, Jesus exclaims, “Everything is possible for one who believes.” Notice how Jesus doesn’t say “certain” things or “some” things – he proclaims everything can be achieved through belief.

In a clarifying moment, the father exclaims: “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” The spirt is gone and the boy healed. Everything is possible for one who believes.

Jesus’ disciples lacked the belief they could heal the boy, the father doubted Jesus could heal the boy. It was after Jesus encouraged to father to show a little belief, a little faith that the miracle happens.

Even weak faith is enough

How much faith is enough? When is faith too small for God to work in our lives? Scripture offers an answer. In Matthew’s account of this same encounter, the disciples ask Jesus why they were unable to heal the boy. Jesus’ response gives us an answer as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago: “Because you have so little faith … If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

“Wait … this thing gets HOW big??”

To my skeptic friends – yes, Jesus is speaking metaphorically, using a figure of speech (he’s allowed, and believe it or not first century Judeans actually spoke in colloquialisms just like we do today). And he’s not telling us we need mountain-sized strength to move mustard seeds.

The truth is even the smallest amount of faith reaches God. He asks us to start with the faith we have, trust in His promise, and He will do the rest in accordance with His will. Recall the story of Peter leaping onto the water to meet Jesus in Matthew 14. At first, his faith appears strong enough to have him cross the water to Jesus – until he is confronted by strong winds and in his fear begins to sink. Jesus reaches out his hand (meeting Peter where he is) and caught him (God doing His part with our limited faith), saying “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” The account in Luke 8:25 puts a finer point to it: “Where is your faith?” (emphasis mine)

Peter’s faith was small, but not so small as to be ignored by God. It wasn’t until he realized he couldn’t cross the water alone – much as the father of the possessed boy realized he couldn’t heal his son alone – that Peter’s faith was placed in God and his miracle delivered.

In the today’s world with seemingly infinite data and information on any subject at our fingertips, it’s hard to place faith in things we can’t touch, or see with our own eyes, or hold in our hands. To be one of those who Jesus referred to in John 20:29 as “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” This may be especially true when we pray for something God doesn’t grant. Our faith dwindles, even to the size of a mustard seed.

Yet when we let go of ourselves and take God’s hand we find something amazing: God’s greatest works often happen in our most obedient moments. Our faith by itself has no power at all. Our “words of power” are meaningless. Without complete trust in God, our prayers are merely recitations.

I believed in my own ability to ace a semester of math in four hours – FAIL. The grieving father believed in the ability of physicians and men to heal his son – FAIL. Peter had faith in his own power to step out on the water – FAIL.

God’s formula for faith working in our lives is simple: Pray, Trust, Believe. Even if that faith is small. Even if that faith is weak. Even if that faith is tested by adversity. Faith is the simply empty hand that receives God’s power.

The smallest faith will be answered if we put it in the right place. Where is yours?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Hypocrite!

“You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” – Matthew 7:5

Did you ever wear masks as kid? Playing make believe or on Halloween? This may be an alien concept to post-Modern, Uber-hip Homo Contemporaneous humanoids too concerned with the “social message” sent by their children donning masks which may have some hint of misogyny, inadvertent cultural appropriation, veiled gender identification intolerance, embedded racism, or pigmentation privilege. Clearly, their social antennae are more acutely attuned than those of us who simply like a good laugh.

Society seems to place a premium on being socially and politically correct in public

The “enlightened” enjoy a more refined sense of socially acceptable public visage than true matters of the heart. They know what their friends/followers/fans need to make sense of their own personality oddities and cater to those gaps or shortcomings daily.

Society seems to place a premium on being socially and politically correct in public. Say the right things, and the people will approve. Don’t question someone’s private behavior, mind you – what matters is what they say and do in front of an audience or a camera.  The “mask” they wear matters more than the face they bare in private.

Courtesy: Exceptional Sales Performance

I was reminded of this recently when considering Jesus’ final public sermon. Parts of this sermon can be found in Mark and Luke, but to get the full impact we must turn to Matthew 23.

First, a bit of context. The time is Tuesday or Wednesday during the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry. A couple of days earlier, Jesus entered Jerusalem hailed as the prophesied Jewish Messiah by thousands who had made their way to the city for Passover.

Map courtesy CL Francisco

For three years Jesus had taken his message across the Judean landscape, tirelessly healing and teaching and preaching in synagogues from Bethsaida, Banias and Caesaria Philippi, to Bethany, Jericho and Jerusalem.  By day he taught and at night would find rest with friends and acquaintances. (As a side note, I found one interesting commentary that during his ministry alone Jesus walked over 4,000 miles.)

So now Jesus is in Jerusalem for his last fateful visit. As a prelude to his final public message his first act was to enter the Temple courts where he would teach and share the next three days. He immediately noticed several things: the money changers who converted non-Jewish coins into temple-acceptable tribute-paying shekels (and always at a premium to turn a profit); the dove and pigeon sellers who sold “acceptable sacrifices” at exorbitant prices; the sellers of cattle and sheep who offered these animals as Temple sacrifices, again at crushingly inflated rates.

Infuriated, Jesus overturns the merchants’ tables, temporarily interrupting the revenue flow of the Temple priesthood. Most scholars believe this was the final straw that set the Jewish authorities on a course to organize his arrest. Follow the money. An interesting debate has existing since the New Testament accounts first appeared on whether Jesus did this at the end of his ministry (as told in Matthew, Mark, and Luke), at the beginning of his ministry (as told in John), or both at the beginning and end. An well-reasoned explanation can be found here.

Next, Jesus begins addressing the gathering crowds in either the Court of the Gentiles or perhaps more likely the Court of Israel. An astonishing series of lessons follows, beginning with a direct challenge by the Temple rulers to his theological authority and continuing as he tells three parables (the Two Sons, the Tenants, and the Wedding Banquet), refutes Pharisees trying trap him on over a question of Roman Imperial Loyalty vs. Loyalty to God (paying taxes), defeats an attempt by the Sadducees to ensnare his understanding of scripture in a question of marriage after resurrection (of course, the Sadducees didn’t actually believe in the Resurrection), answered the question of which is the greatest commandment and then to the delight of the crowds stunned the Pharisees into embarrassed silence by proclaiming the Messiah was greater than David.

It’s likely these teachings and public rebukes of Jewish authority took place over a couple of days.  Yet while Jesus was probably drained and physically/mentally exhausted at the end of every day, the words, the challenges, the debates, all served to set the stage for what came next.

Jesus dismantles the moral authority of the Jewish order

On that Tuesday or Wednesday before he left the Temple for a final time to return to Bethany to rest and prepare for Thursday’s climatic arrest, Jesus turned his attention away from the Pharisees and focused again on the crowd. Yet his words were aimed like a heat-seeking blistering spear directly at the heart of the malignancy he knew the Priesthood had become.

Jesus’ open comments were devastatingly effective: “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat. So you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach.” (Emphasis mine).

*BOOM* In three sentences and 38 words (well, in the English translation at least), Jesus utterly dismantles the entire moral authority of the formal Jewish order declaring the whole priesthood corrupt and false. And he’s just getting started.

“Everything they do is done for people to see,” he says. Does this sound oddly familiar to what we see today in both the Church and secular worlds? “They love the place of honor at the banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues.”

Jesus then proclaims seven “woes” on the Pharisees and teachers – accusing them of shutting the doors of the Kingdom against the people, of turning their so-called “saved” into children of Hell, of being blind guides, of tithing from abundance but ignoring the matters of justice and mercy, of caring more for appearances than for substance, of murdering prophets, and finally foretelling with ominous prophetic vision that God Himself had left the Temple would not return to their presence until they accepted Jesus as the anointed Messiah.

“Really, that Jesus was such nice boy…”

So much for Charles Wesley’s “Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild.”

The point is this. For three years Jesus preached and taught a message of salvation, a message of redemption through repentance and acceptance of Jesus as fulfillment of prophecy.  In encounter after encounter Jesus healed, forgave sins, and invited the lost home to God’s loving Grace. Yet in his final public appearance he laid out the brutal truth that hierarchy inevitably leads to brazen hypocrisy, false teaching and death.

Where do we see this today? The halls of Congress? Media moguls and their sycophant followers? The lofty modern cathedrals of megachurch celebrity pastors with their mansions and private jets and overflowing bank accounts? The holier-than-thou congregationalists demanding their self-assigned pews but never speaking a single word to the homeless and broken?

Brothers and sisters, hypocrisy lies at the very center of societal decay. Jesus saw that in the Temple and in the heart of man. 2,000 years later very little has changed.  To purge sin from our lives we can start with the masks we each wear every day – you and me.

Love God. Love your neighbor as yourself, regardless of who they might be.  Sin no more. Ask for mercy. Simple words of Truth, powerful words of Life.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Tempus Sugit?

Key West: July 4th week, 1990: fireworks over the water, deep sea fishing for Mahi-Mahi (tourist note: it was not an exactly inspired idea to boat out over choppy pre-dawn open ocean the day-after-the-night-before which may have included one or two extra shots of a smooth libation from what was then a relatively new player in the tequila market called Patron Spirits Company), touring through the charms of Hemingway’s adopted home town.

What I remember most about that Summer week (well, apart from spending time with an incredible woman who would become my wife) was … how time sort of stood still. I later learned there was a popular technique in bars and restaurants of Key West during those days to intentionally slow down service, purportedly enhancing the experience of “laid back cool” made famous by another Key West transplant, Jimmy Buffet.

Apparently the notion here was to encourage visitors to throw away their Daytimers (for the nostalgic folks, this was obviously during a day and age before the rise of the ubiquitous mobile device that these days so often substitutes for a social life), pack their watches in a suitcase (again, these were the days of long ago when watches simply told us what time of day and what day of the month we happened to be stumbling through) adopt an island state of mind and r-e-l-a-x. Oh, and whilst relaxing spend a lot of money. Such is the nature of commerce in the Conch Republic.

Witticisms aside, there was something incredibly freeing about the experience. After the first 24 hours of withdrawal it became serene, almost meditative to sit down in a restaurant or bar, wait at least 20 minutes for the server (casually standing in the corner with two other servers, biding their time and letting you settle in), and learn the art of unhurried conversation all over again.

Learn the art of unhurried conversation all over again.

I remembered this recently when considering how busy our lives have become. Calendars, schedules, meetings, “quick” coffees, calls, to-do lists, kids’ activities, date nights with partners or spouses, drinks with friends … so much to do, so little time.

I get it.

My own online calendar looks like a patchwork quilt on any given day. I even know folks who write their time with God in on their agendas: Wake up 5 am, Catch up on News 5:15 am, Workout 5:30 – 6:15 am, Bible Reading and God 6:30 – 6:45 am, Breakfast 6:45 am. Pencil God right in there between Pilates and Scrambled Eggs.

 

Personally, I blame Robert Hooke and Christiaan Huygens. Who? It turns out in 1657 these two guys argued over which one invented a little device called a balance spring which, when attached to the balance wheel in mechanical timepieces, caused the balance wheel to oscillate with a predictable frequency when the timepiece was running, thus allowing for a consistent “tick” in the spring. Voilà, the accurate pocket watch was born.

From there it’s a straight shot to 21st Century time management gurus who have us managing our days down to the 5 minute increments so popular with über-efficient productivity experts.

What does all of this have to do with God? More than you might imagine. As time awareness became more culturally ingrained, it found its way into organized church service structure and eventually into our time spent with private study of the Word.

We make time for God, but it has to be convenient: for most Protestant denominations, that means just about an hour, usually scheduled between 9:00 am and 11:00 am. Not too long to interfere with Sunday brunch (or, God

Yo, bra – is that song in the Hymnal?

forbid, game time – especially if you’re a Cowboys fan in Texas) but long enough to get in a few favorite hymns, a sermon that doesn’t put us to sleep, and some social time. Or if you’re more concerned with having serious Sunday morning pillow time, there’s always the Saturday evening service, just before heading to dinner. In and out, like the California burger chain.

In some cases, we take things even further to accommodate busy, scheduled, clock-driven lives. Our fellow worshipers in Catholicism have refined service scheduling to a high art. For instance, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, one of my favorite churches in the country, has (count ‘em) eight services each and every Sunday! Surely busy New Yorkers can squeeze in God time during one for those!

Yes, I’m being a bit tongue-in-cheek. But here’s the point. How many times did Jesus advertise his sermon times, making them convenient for the time conscious? I don’t recall seeing anything like this in scripture “This Sunday: The Beatitudes at 9, 11, 1 and a special evening service at 5:30. We’ll have plenty fish and bread, so BYOB.” 

Credit: Radio Free Babylon

Rather, scripture tells us Jesus simply created gatherings with no regard to time: “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down.” (Matthew 5:1) Or he would spontaneously teach a lifetime’s worth of sermons in a single lesson on prayer: “One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’” (Luke 11:1) Or, he would simply climb into a boat on the water and begin preaching: “Once again Jesus began teaching by the lakeshore. A very large crowd soon gathered around him, so he got into a boat. Then he sat in the boat while all the people remained on the shore. He taught them by telling many stories in the form of parables.” (Mark 4:1-2)

God isn’t impressed with our productivity, nor our busy lives.

Jesus didn’t carve out time for God. There was no “sandwiching” in his ministry; God simply was – 24/7/365.

God isn’t impressed with our productivity, nor our busy lives. He doesn’t care how many meetings we cram into a day, how many people pass through our sanctuary doors on any given Sunday, how many books we sell as well-known authors, or how large our bank accounts grow. Instead, His only interest is our willing hearts offered to Him in authentic worship, and to each other in love and friendship. There is nothing more important than this.

Pastor Rick Warren of Saddleback Church puts it this way: “If you’re too busy for God, you’re too busy … because you’re putting everything else in front of the number one commandment — love God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength.”

I began this post with a twist on the well-known Latin phrase “Tempus Fugit,” which loosely translated means “time flies.” I chose to rename it “Tempus Sugit,” or “Time Sucks.” Because time, and our preoccupation with it, doesn’t just fly, it can suck the life out of us, and our worship of God. It takes precedence over keeping our eyes on Jesus and instead keeps them on our calendars and to-do lists.

“Penciling God in” when it’s convenient, when our minds wander in His direction, when our calendars are open, when we’re concerned or out of control, when there are no looming deadlines, in those moments when life brings us crashing to our knees or we’ve just we score a huge success – none of these approaches help us cross the gulf to Grace.

I’m certainly not saying we don’t live in a different age that those who first heeded God’s call, nor that organizing our lives to ensure we attend church or spend time in the Word.  But no amount of scheduling or calendar management or momentary life intercession can ever truly bring us closer to God – in worship or at home. Only a willing heart and a broken watch.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Lost

“If anyone, regardless of reputation or credentials, preaches something other than what you received originally, let him be cursed.” – Galatians 1:9

So, yeah – I’m a “guy” (apologies to the sensitive crowd who might consider that term unseemly in this age of identification correctness).

Let me explain.

  • I love football (the American kind – especially the Dallas Cowboys; don’t hate).
  • I consider well-made (vs. well-done, aka “burnt” in Texas vernacular) burgers a “Capital F” Food Group.

    Downlow Burger from Love & Salt (Los Angeles)
    Photo credit: la.eater.com
  • For me, a meaningful conversation with another “guy” can go like this: “Hey dude – what’s up?” “Not much, bro, you doin’ ok?” “Yeah, man, I’m great – wanna beer?”
  • It’s not a crime to wear the same gym clothes twice (ok, maybe more) without washing them.
  • And I have a genetic predisposition against asking directions.

See, it also turns out I have a love of all things technology. With fingertip access to what was once military-grade GPS systems on that little black appendage semi-permanently attached to the end of my arm, I feel no need to get help from passing pedestrians or especially my ever-faithful-passenger-seat companion (aka my wife) on where I took that last wrong turn. But then, I seem to take wrong turns … a lot. Another story for another post.

It is, however, a great segue to this post. Because it seems to me most of us make wrongs turns … a lot. And this is nowhere truer than in that messy family we call the Church.

It might be easy to support this statement by citing works from writers like Palmer Theological Seminary Professor Ron Sider in his book The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience where he details how evangelical Christians are just sort of like the rest of society: same divorce rate, same indifference to the poor, nearly the same rate of unmarried cohabitation, etc.

If Christians are just as flawed as everyone else, what makes the Church so special?

So if Christians are just as flawed as everyone else, what makes the Church so special? This seems to be a favorite theme these days of en vogue “New Christian” bloggers, pointing to the flawed nature of humanity as Exhibit 1 in their argument that sin is our common bond and thus should be our commonly accepted bondage, freeing us from judgment of any kind.

Yet such easy arguments miss a vastly larger issue: over the last several decades the Church itself has lost its way. Consider what many churches look like today: vast amphitheaters catering to a “here I am, entertain me” mindset craving worship services more akin to rock concerts; in-house coffee shops with central casting baristas complete with just the right combination of tats and piercings; senior pastors delivering sermons tailor made for TED Talk cult status; painless sermons about the great things God has in store for us; empty rhetoric more concerned with talking about change than actually being change.

In many ways, the modern church has fallen victim to “cult-of-movement” worship. Where in the past the Church adapted to a culture and then worked to change it for the better, it seems that today’s church too often adapts to culture in order to be accepted by it as-is. Individualism and consumerism have replaced community and Kingdom. More “me” and less “He.”

Photo credit: theodysseyonline.com

This kind of worship promises fulfillment and purpose found in devout spiritual practice without awkward things like doctrine, teaching, commandments, sacrifice, obedience, or discipline. Jesus is preached more like a hip celeb with 2.2 billion Twitter followers than the Word in the Beginning. Personal relationships are promised with God, comforting and loving, just not sacrificial ones.

Today’s church too often adapts to culture in order to be accepted by it as-is

Credit: Gallup

For many, this type of “worship experience” fulfills their needs. Show up on Sunday (or Saturday night for the contemporary types), get a familiarly caffeinated dose of community, sing a few anthem songs, hear a killer sermon (a poll released by Gallup from April of this year indicated that 75% of worshippers say the sermon is their primary reason for attending church). All done till next week.

Don’t think I’m ridiculing these church-goers – this is where they are and God meets them right there, and their needs. It’s just that elevating the individual experience comes at the expense of God’s desire for real community (Ephesians 4:16). And opens the door for an errant Gospel.

For millions more, these attempts by the church to be more culturally relevant – through activities and missions nearly indistinguishable from secular social activism, to outspoken celebrity pastors taking positions more appropriate in a political campaign rally, to scripture-light series resembling Tony Robbins seminars – ring empty and hollow.

Credit: Business Insider

Which may help explain why less than 36% of the U.S. population now attends church yet when asked nearly 60% claim to be spiritual and to even pray regularly. Something seems missing from much of organized Christianity today for a vast number of believers.

There are, perhaps, a number of reasons for this drifting away from an Acts 2 or Galatians 1 vision of how Church and Community were designed to heed the Gospel. The need for cultural relevance might be a major contributor. As social activists grow louder in their demands for sloganeered “Social Justice,” accepting any and all points of view as equal, the appeal of a church doctrine which appears judgmental gets lost in the noise, relegated to the trash heap of “yesterday’s” religion. “All good paths lead to God and the Church just needs to get over itself,” claim the prophets of New Faith.

And as churches attempt to self-correct, adopting missions and messages deemed more “tolerant” irrespective of true Biblical inspiration, traditional conservative worshipers who feel these churches are straying from the Word may leave in search of something else – or even abandon church altogether; often transforming their faith from a light for the whole world into a lamp hidden under their nightstands (Matthew 5:14-15).

No easy answers exist for those who, to paraphrase Indian philosopher Bara Dada, “like Christ but reject Christians” (as represented by the Church). Perhaps the perceived hypocrisy of some modern Christians is too strong to overcome. Or perhaps folks have simply become inoculated from the real message of the Gospel, as Pastor Doug Ponder recently suggested in this post.

Regardless, if the Church is to emulate Jesus’ example of ministering to the lost, it must first find its way back. That means returning to the real meaning of Salvation, to the Truth that modern cries for Social Justice based on good intentions and actions often ignore the fundamental role of Faith in Christ alone.

Salvation, freely offered, comes at a cost

We can’t simply “feel” our way to God, nor purchase our way into Grace through good deeds or euphemisms. Nor do we earn Salvation by accepting God’s will; rather, we accept Salvation by following the commands and direction given to us by God.

Salvation, freely offered, does come at a cost, requiring that we turn away from actions and behaviors that may seem acceptable to the world but from which God hides face (Isaiah 59:2). This was the heart of Paul’s message to the Galatians in verse 1:10 “Am I trying to win the approval of human beings or of God?”

Scripture and Biblical instruction are not tired relics from an irrelevant past. They are, as Jesus tells us in John 15, what we must do to receive the gift God offers through the price of the Cross. And when we follow God’s will rather than what the world expects, we may be hated and rejected, criticized and ridiculed and accused, for we offer no safe harbor for sin.

Yes, to some this path seems rigid, even scary. No wonder there’s such temptation to dilute the Gospel message, to soften scripture’s message into one more palatable to modern tastes where no one is told what is right or wrong.

And it’s no mystery churches have lost their way trying to respond. Fortunately there’s a GPS (and even a few Apps) for that. It’s called the Bible. And within its pages are all the directions we will ever need to follow God’s call home.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Brussels Sprouts, Minding Medicine, and Good Friday: Four Reflections

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” – Matthew 16:21-25

Growing up there were two things I absolutely detested: Brussels Sprouts and a certain type of medicine for a certain type of embarrassing infection for which the treatment was – from my 6-year old perspective – worse than the symptoms! Fortunately, my mother was a saint and taught me to eventually savor the Sprouts and mind the medicine. Gotta love moms.

For some Christians, Good Friday is a bit like that. Or, as another pastor once put it, asking followers to embrace Good Friday is little bit like asking them embrace torture – or nails on a chalkboard!

Truth is, Good Friday is perhaps the most curiously circumspect day in Christendom’s Liturgical Year (fancy term meaning “calendar”). It doesn’t have an entire season of shopping, “bracket” holidays, and mangers with wise men surrounding it like Christmas; it doesn’t have the Joy and Celebration of its big brother Easter just two days later; nor does it have the sacrificial appeal of Lent, where we get to give up something for 40 days (but nothing too hard, of course).

To be sure, nowhere in Scripture are we instructed to build sacraments around the Friday before Easter. Early Christians remembered it as a day of sorrow, penance, and fasting, which is represented in the modern German tradition of Karfreitag (“Sorrowful Friday”). But Jesus never said as he was being led off to trial “Remember this day whenever you gather.”

Still, from my perspective Good Friday is a profound day of revelation, of contemplation, and while dreadful in how it ends, portentous in what it foretells.

This Good Friday, here are four things that come to mind when I reflect on this day and what it represents.

1.  Good Friday is the narrow gateway to Easter Sunday.

For most of us, Good Friday is about the crucifixion of Jesus – pure and simple: black-draped crosses, somber faces of mourning, even Good Friday services with sound effects recreating the hammering of nails into the wrists and feet of Eternal God incarnate.

As followers, we are called not to the tomb, but to the Cross.

Yet it strikes me that we often focus too much on the end of the scene rather than the backstory, the full narrative.

As followers, we are called not to the tomb, but to the Cross. Remember, Mary is asked by the messengers at the empty tomb: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he is risen!”

We rush to the tomb, to Easter morning, to the Resurrection without fully embracing that without Good Friday there is no Easter Sunday. The pathway to redemption runs straight through the one-way road of what happens on that fateful Friday.

Consider how much of the story of God and man occurs on that single day. The second-guessing of God’s sovereignty and kingdom plans, the interplay of temptation vs. submission, the secularized mocking of Jesus as the Living Word, the rejection of salvation in favor of personal gain … the list is virtually endless.

Simply put, the entire Biblical story is replayed in the hours before the main event (the Crucifixion), and the most compelling and redeeming aspect of Good Friday is how faithful Jesus stayed to his calling, even in the hours of praying in Gethsemane, even as he was paraded before the Sanhedrin for a sham trial, even as Herod goaded him to provide a single miracle for entertainment value, even as Pilate debated him on the nature of Truth, even as he hung on the Cross.

The story of Easter is the story of perseverance and trust. There can be no Easter Sunday without Good Friday and overcoming the spiritual warfare of that pivotal moment. Without the Cross, and the devotion to walking through the narrow gateway leading there, there is no resurrection. Good Friday is our only path to Easter Sunday.

 2. The Cross is still a problem.

How must Jesus’ arrest and execution have been seen through the eyes of his followers? In less than 12 hours, his entire 42 months of ministry, perhaps even the whole of Messianic prophecy appeared to collapse, to be proven false. Where was the Kingdom? Where was the triumphal Messiah? The power he used to help others completely failed him during these dire hours. He was, it seemed, outwitted, outplayed. How could that happen?

Yet both Jesus’ followers and his accusers completely missed the real message of his life, as Jesus himself told Andrew and Philip in John 12:24: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone, but if it dies, it produces many.” In deed as well as word, Jesus lived out the very parables he taught.

Even today, some Christians have a problem with the Cross. To have meaning, the Cross must show us miracles and power. It must demonstrate right now the ability of God to take away our pain and suffering. It must reveal wisdom and truth.

Ultimately, God first offers us the Cross through Jesus, the road of surrender, then salvation. In writing to the Corinthians, Paul calls this “the power of and the wisdom of God.” (I Corinthians 1:24). It is the power and wisdom of Jesus in surrendering his will to God that leads him directly to the Cross.

Many Christians today prefer not to think about suffering. In fact, entire ministries are built on the concept of God as a force of comfort, with no sacrifice or suffering required. According to this view, the Cross was not actually necessary, just a prop used to wake up the knuckleheads too dim-witted to see the God in all of us.

The real meaning of the Cross is that our own power or reason or abilities are never enough to earn our way to salvation. Jesus relinquished his will, and so, too, must we.

3. Good Friday is the beginning, not the end.

It’s been said that all change happens in an instant – only our agonizing over the decision takes time. This is no truer than the events taking place on Good Friday and culminating at the Cross.

From the moment of man’s fall in the first garden, our history unfolded as a long, slow, tortuous dialogue with our own consciences, with each other, and with God over how we should respond. We warred, we railed against God’s plea to turn from iniquity, we excused and rationalized our brokenness.

On Good Friday, God stepped into His creation and offered the “instant” change we could not find in ourselves. The Cross is that change. God allows us to put His sovereignty over our lives on trial. He allows us to mock Him. He allows us to beat and debase Him. And yes, He even allows us to hang Him from the Cross of our own imperfections.

Yet, through all of this He remains faithful, inviting us to join Him at the very Cross we created, the very Cross to which He was nailed that we might be free. He compels us to see the broken and bloodied body of His Son. And to see our own broken and bloodied lives hanging with him.

Good Friday is the moment of that change. It is the Beginning of a Redeemed Life. This is the meaning of Jesus’ death, and of the rending of the Temple veil described in Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, and Luke 23:44. God is no longer separated from Man, the price of our falling away has been paid.

In our rush to celebrate the empty tomb of Easter, we cannot overlook our own complicity in the agony and cost of the Cross. Good Friday is the beginning of the change within each of us. 

4. Faith always prevails, even when we doubt.

Finally, there is a moment – a crucial moment – at the Cross; a moment unlike any other in Scripture. Throughout his ministry, Jesus had been tempted and tested. Obstacles and roadblocks had been thrown in his path. In Gethsemane he asked God if there was another way. Yet through all of that his faith never wavered.

Then came these four words: “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” meaning “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” – the one and only time in the New Testament where Jesus does not refer to God as his father. Yes, he was quoting Psalm 22:1, perhaps reminding those gathered at his feet of the foretelling of this very moment. But deeper than that, it was the one moment in his entire earthly existence where he truly become just like us – separated from God, alone in the sea of a sinful world, filled with the desolation of being unconscious of His Father’s presence.

And yet, a few mere breaths and heartbeats later the isolation passes and just as the Psalm 22 ends with hope and praise, Jesus utters these words “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Even in death, Jesus shows us how faith triumphs. What his disciples failed to grasp time and again about his ultimate destiny, Jesus finally demonstrated – literally – in the flesh. And all through faith.

Jesus knew what lay before him. The comfort of a promised resurrection did not calm the fear of a painful, humiliating death. Yet in his death as in his life, Jesus models for us what faith and trust in God’s plan really means.

On this Good Friday, pause and consider what God is asking you to surrender so that His love might heal you. Perhaps you’ll find your own way to “savor the Sprouts and mind the medicine!”

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Easter Thoughts: They Were No Heroes

“And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.” – Luke 22:61-62

Note: This post was originally published in 2016.  I’ve condensed it here in honor of Easter week. It may take a strange turn or two, but stay with me.

David Bowie.  Whoa – that’s not a name one normally associates with Easter.  But follow me here and we’ll make the connection.  I grew up loving Bowie’s work – from Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders of Mars to 1983’s Let’s Dance his music shaped my own formative love of creating and playing music.

Later, I would appreciate how influential Bowie has been on musicians across the spectrum.  Artists as varied as The Killers, Jay Z (that’s right, Mr. Beyoncé),Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta known professionally as Lady Gaga, Radiohead, Lorde, Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump, Arctic Monkeys, and countless others attribute much of their direction and style to one phase or another of Bowie’s career. 

(Parenthetical sidenote: for an entertaining read, check out this tongue-in-cheek story from the UK’s Mirror on how Bowie eerily predicted the Rise of Kanye West and the Destruction of the World. But I digress.)

Every year at this time, Christians remember their most sacred and Holy week: an ecstatic, triumphal entrance into Jerusalem laden with prophetic symbolism; the crescendo of confrontations with authorities; the somber and mysterious Thursday night dinner where Passover’s traditional ritual meal was replaced by a New Covenant; the poignant retreat to the Garden of Gethsemane symbolizing a fallen Garden of Eden for a final plea resulting in betrayal, arrest, and further betrayal; a sham middle-of-the-night trial before the self-important Sanhedrin and ending before a pompous Roman magistrate cowered into accommodating the mob; the humiliation of public flogging; a mocking, agonizing procession through the very streets so victoriously entered six days before; nailed and hung from a cross reserved for the most vile of offenders while guards laughed, drank and gambled over the very clothes worn during the ordeal; a final gasp and then … death, burial and sorrow.  Three days later, the impossibility of a promise fulfilled – resurrection and the defeat of death.

This is the story we share each Easter.  Filled with more excitement, intrigue, politics, violence, and redemption than the best Hollywood film.  Our focus is usually the same with each telling – Jesus’ destiny with his accusers and his overcoming their most heinous intentions and conquering sin.

Credit: Masayoshi Sukita

So what, then, is the connection between Bowie and Easter?  This is where we go on a bit of a journey.  In 1977, Bowie released his twelfth studio album, “Heroes.” The album and its title track “Heroes” remain among my favorite pieces by Bowie.  The original version, an up-tempo rocker, became an anthem of sorts, even though the lyrics have always been a bit murky.

In the 2013 feature film Lone Survivor I developed an entirely new appreciation for the song.  The final credits rolled over Peter Gabriel’s updated version and I began considering how the lyrics, with a bit of rewriting, could poignantly describe the experience of the first Apostles during the last hours of Jesus’ life.  And here we begin the connection.

How might that week have looked through the eyes of those closest to Jesus? We certainly get a glimpse in the Gospel stories, yet these retellings are always in the third person.  What must it have felt like to be Judas in the moments after he realizes the great tragedy his betrayal would hold; or Peter in the very moment of his denials; or Mary heading to the tomb Sunday morning not filled with hope but instead openly weeping and mourning?

The Calling of Peter and Andrew – Bernardo Strozzi

These were not extraordinary men and women – a few fishermen, a tax collector, a thief and liar, a Zealot or two with delusions of defeating Rome, a tent maker and Pharisee, a probable prostitute, a possible outcast from an ancient royal bloodline, various tradesmen, hangers-on from the lowest rungs of first century Palestinian life.  Broken sinners all – like each of us.

In the eyes of the Jewish Levitical Priesthood and their Roman overlords, a laughable, motley rabble of would-be revolutionaries; hardly the stuff of regime change.  Pontius Pilate thought Jesus was simply misguided saying “I find no basis for a charge in this man.”  Herod Antipas, the puppet ruler of Galilee and Perea, ridiculed Jesus and draped him in an ornate robe before sending him back to Pilate.

Yet the men and women making up Jesus’ inner circle each shared a common and ultimately unbreakable bond – they followed a leader whose unstoppable presence and force-of-will would topple empires.

During the weeks and months leading up to Jesus’ final week, their enthusiasm and confidence – perhaps even arrogance – emboldened them.  They were in the presence of the Messiah and the overthrow of earthly oppression was surely imminent.  It’s easy to understand how they would be emboldened. Jesus had calmed the storm, healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, raised the dead, fed the multitudes, rebuked the hypocrites … why should Jerusalem be any different?

Albert Einstein is credited with many sayings.  Two of my favorites are “Adversity introduces a man to himself” and “The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.”

I’m reminded of these in reflecting on the aftermath of the Jesus’ trial and execution.  Those same men and women buoyed with faux confidence saw their true characters revealed, and knew fear and shame and humiliation.  Not the traits of heroes, but more like the actions of frail, flawed, imperfect humans – just like each of us.

Jesus’ followers were not heroes from their actions before the Resurrection – they became heroes as a result of their surrender to the grace and salvation evidenced by the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus.

To believers, the miracle of the Resurrection is manifest and 2,000 years after the event a foregone conclusion.  Of course Jesus triumphed; what other outcome could there have been when the Spirit of God Himself takes on human form? But to the men and women of Jesus’ time, and to Paul, Timothy, Silas, Titus and hundreds and then thousands of disciples who followed them, their strength was anything but inevitable.  They were not heroes from their actions before the Resurrection – they became heroes as a result of their surrender to the grace and salvation evidenced by the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus.

Nearly all of the original Apostles and early disciples of Jesus followed him into death or exile.  They did so not with preordained knowledge of Cosmic Supremacy but through that uniquely, divinely-gifted human trait of Faith.  They believed and then were empowered to spread the Kingdom of God. They found the heroes within themselves when faced with the greatest tragedy they could ever have imagined.

If I were to rewrite Bowie’s “Heroes” I wouldn’t change that much.  I might alter
the 3nd verse to reflect Judas or Peter in the Garden.  Or perhaps the 2nd verse to reflect how the Kingship of Jesus redeems the Lost.  And maybe change the line “We could be heroes, just for one day” to read “Now we can be heroes, every day.”

The power of God’s grace can make heroes in faith of us all.  If we simply believe, accept, listen, and act.

One coincidental footnote – Bowie played a cameo role as Pontius Pilate in Martin Scorsese’s 1988 film “The Last Temptation of Christ.” I doubt he connected the dots…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Men and the Messy Business of Relationship

“I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go.” – Genesis 28:15

“Boys” (*dad-shudder*). As the undeserving father of two beautiful, vibrant daughters I can say with confidence that for fathers the “B” word may well be the second scariest plural noun in the English language. Beginning sometime around the second month of fifth grade and continuing non-stop until an unbearably long, tear-filled walk down an inevitably too-short aisle when “boys” becomes “husband,” we dads struggle continuously with the Barbarians at the Gate we once worked so hard ourselves to be.

Which brings me to what may arguably be the scariest word in the English language for dads everywhere (and men in general). The “R” word – Relationship. Yes, it’s true. Even the strongest men, backyard bruisers who can grill for 20 with perfect temperature control while swilling a cooler full of iced Heineken and reciting every line from Braveheart and Gladiator, even these guys can become wobbly puddles of man-goo at the thought of the R word.

We guys dread R things. Like meeting “the boyfriend” – the one with the bad hair and the entirely too shifty eyes (you’ve met him – you may have been him). We draw blanks when our spouses or partners want to sit down over a glass of wine and have the “R” conversation. And when do guys ever talk about our “relationship” with Bob or Jim or Pete?

“I don’t care if I’m Toby Maguire – no shoulder rubs!”

Most guys simply don’t “do” relationship (the verb, not the noun). We have our poker night buddies, the guys we hang out with during each Season  (Sports, not Fashion or the latest binge-watching series), the dudes we see at the gym, the significant others we tolerate at parties, heck – we’re even on first names with our hairstylists (we used to call them barbers). We “know” guys, we just don’t always have “relationships” with them.

Relationships are messy businesses. They’re hard. Done right, they require advanced socialization skills like listening, considering, actual discourse. They take empathy and understanding. They take, well, they take love. Another word that sends shivers down many of our steely spines. It’s just so much easier to assume than to act.

Relationships don’t “complete” us, they refine us.

Yet relationships are the essence of human interaction. With apologies to Jerry Maguire, relationships don’t “complete” us, they refine us. Relationships allow us safe refuge to cycle out the psychological toxins pumped into our psyches by 21st century living. We get to wrestle with someone else’s view of who we are, try it on for size, checking out the view in a virtual 3-side mirror of love and trust and respect, only to realize the sleeves are too long or too short, or the color just doesn’t suit us, or there aren’t enough pockets. Relationships give us the freedom to grow or not. They can bring us together, or drive us apart.

Turns out God has more than a few things to say on this subject. In fact, one might argue that God is entirely about relationship. Relationship with Him. Relationship with each other. Relationship with our own fractured selves.

The passage from Genesis I opened with was not accidental. From the very beginning of His narrative defining the human experience, God set the tone: “I am with you. I will watch over you wherever you go.” Unqualified. Unbound. Unending.

Imagine for a moment if our relationships with each other were this pure, this transparent. Imagine if we honestly said to one another “I’m right here, right beside you. I’ll be here when you need me.”  Not in some touchy-feely Facebook way, and not just with those closest to us.  But with everyone we meet, every living, breathing soul with whom we share this experience of life.

God is very direct on the subject of relationship. Throughout man’s unfolding story of awareness in God and His plan of Salvation, one theme has reverberated again and again. We are the vessels of grace bestowed by God. It’s our interaction with and relationship to one another that breathes life into the promise of the Kingdom. “The kingdom is among you,” Jesus tells us.

Men – and women – can learn endless lessons from how Jesus demonstrated the art and practice of relationships. We can all follow his example, even those of us who struggle with the enormity and, yes, messiness of the religion that has evolved over the centuries in his name. And it’s really quite simple if we get our heads and self-focus out of the way. Try the following exercise with me sometime in the next week.

1) Think of three people you know, three people you care for, but whom you’ve not connected with in a while. Perhaps they are close friends, perhaps they are people you just met.

2) Write down their names and something meaningful about them. Study that a moment, feel it. Imagine seeing the world from their eyes and from their lives, rather than your perception of it.

3) Reach out. Email, phone, handwritten note, maybe even get in the car and pay a decidedly pre-21st century actual visit. Tell them you were thinking of them. Tell them you care. Invite them into your life.

4) Encourage them to do the same, paying it forward to three of their friends and acquaintances.

God tells us He will always be with us, watching over us wherever we go. He does that for all of us, freely. How much less it is for us to do the same for each other.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Five Things You Think You Know (But Really Don’t) – #1 SELF-RELIANCE

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” – John 8:32 

Ever play the telephone game? You know, where a group of people whisper a phrase to the each other around the room and it changes over the chain from something like “These are a few of my favorite things” into something like “Doorknobs and doorjambs with hasps and strange hinges?” Along the way, each person is absolutely certain they’re passing along what they heard to the next person.

It turns out this also happens in the sharing of our faith.

Admit it – just like me, at one point or another you’ve said something to yourself or to a friend you thought was ripped right from the pages of the Bible when, in fact, it only sounds that way. Maybe to console, maybe to encourage, maybe just to have something to say, but still it isn’t quite the same.

We think these were truths handed down directly from God, like our own mini-versions of Moses’ trip to the mountaintop. After all, everyone just knows certain things are true, right?

There are many phrases, clichés, platitudes, and otherwise “common sense” sayings used by Christians every day, which have in fact, no biblical basis whatsoever! Rather, they’re subtle distortions of God’s message that serve only to steal from us the full joy of experiencing God and authentically sharing that experience with others.

When we replace the original message of God’s Word with the commonplace beliefs of today we’ll never truly experience God.

Living in God’s truth leads us from the bleak landscapes of despair and into the brilliant light of life. Sometimes that truth takes us through dark places and barren valleys before we reach the place God intends for us. And sometimes that truth is difficult to hear, running counter to our deepest desires. It’s natural to seek solace in faith that’s easier to digest, easier to incorporate into our worldview, easier to reconcile with how we believe the world should be.

This is the basic failing of false gospels that detour us from the Word and into more comfortable, indigestion-free diets of frictionless lives where any path (or all paths) lead to God. We see it in popular mega-church pastors who tell us all the “good things” God has in store for us without ever really explaining the commitment required. We see it in popular faith blogs that tell us how traditional Christianity is out of touch with the modern world, filled with antiquated notions and unenlightened artifacts from yesterday. We see it in each other when we profess but do not practice.

The “Capital T” TRUTH is that when we replace the original message of God’s Word with the commonplace beliefs of today, treating second-hand messages as first-hand truth, we’ll never truly experience God.

Over the next five posts we’ll look at a few of the most common and (sadly) popular misconceptions about what’s actually in – and NOT in – the Bible.

Starting with: 

#1  GOD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES

I love this one – partially due to its blatant and utter lack of biblical grounding, but mostly because I can show off the benefits of my liberal arts education (that would be sarcasm, in case there was any confusion).

A recent study by Christian demographer and pollster George Barna of The Barna Group indicated that 68% of “born again” Christians agreed with this statement. However even the most basic reading of the Bible proves it to be quintessentially anti-Gospel. Clearly God gives each of us gifts and talents to develop and enjoy. Yet the entire concept of pure self-reliance (or self-righteousness) and the idea that we should just try a little harder to earn our salvation actually conflicts with the work of God.

Thou dost have great hair, dude …

The phrase actually originates in ancient Greece and may initially have been proverbial. It’s illustrated by two of Aesop’s Fables and a similar sentiment is found in ancient Greek drama. Benjamin Franklin is often credited with bringing it to America, but the modern English wording appears earlier in Algernon Sidney‘s work.

The phrase has also found its way into popular culture. In a “Jaywalking” sketch on The Tonight Show, comedian host Jay Leno asked random people on the street to name one of the Ten Commandments. The most popular response given was “God helps those who help themselves.” Fox News commentator Bill O’Reilly used it in responding to Jim McDermott who argued, “This is Christmas time. We talk about Good Samaritans, the poor, the little baby Jesus in the cradle and all this stuff. And then we say to the unemployed we won’t give you a check to feed your family. That’s simply wrong.” O’Reilly argued for a more selective approach to unemployment benefits, and the importance of individual responsibility, concluding “while Jesus promoted charity at the highest level, he was not self-destructive. The Lord helps those who help themselves. Does he not?” Stephen Colbert parodied O’Reilly in response, concluding in character, “if this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we’ve got to pretend Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition; and then admit that we just don’t want to do it.”

Time and again, scripture points out that the lives of those who chase the myth of self-reliance end up, to quote James Bond in Casino Royale, “not well.” Spiritual self-reliance is inconsistence with God’s message. Simply look at Adam, Moses, Samson, Saul, Judas and 10 million unnamed souls since to find clear evidence.

While self-reliance on its own is never directly punished, God clearly favors helping those who cannot help themselves, which is what the entire concept of grace is all about (see the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, Ephesians 2:4–5, Romans 4:4–5).

The bottom line is that God helps those who help themselves to the extent their motives aligns with His divine Will. When Jesus faced his most traumatic moment of temptation while in the Garden of Gethsemane the knee-jerk reaction of those around him was to take action. Peter reportedly sliced off the ear of an assailant. Jesus replies: “Put your sword away! Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?” (John 18:11). Peter took action to protect his teacher, regardless of God’s plan. Jesus took action but only in alignment with God’s will.

Better stated, God saves those who die to themselves: “Then Jesus told His disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me’” (Matthew 16:24).

Words really do matter…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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The Self-Delusion of Self-Absorption

“But mark this:  People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God — having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with such people.” –  2 Timothy 3:1-5

Navel-gazing – it’s a common occurrence.  No, I’m not talking about the lustful look I often have when browsing the produce section of H-E-B (that’s Texan for “grocery store,” y’all) while passing by the overly-genetically-enhanced navel oranges that look oh-so-good but actually taste kind of like extra pulpy Sunkist without the cardboard container.

Nor do I mean the vacant stares so many people have when practicing annoying Yoga postures while they really are gazing down at the their navels.

And I’m certainly not referring to the shifty eyes some of my guy friends have when a young lady (or not-so-young, these days) walks past in a bare-midriff top sporting one of those sparkly piercings winking out from the stub of what was originally an umbilical cord.

Rather, I’m thinking of an entirely different kind of navel-gazing; the type usually accompanying self-preoccupation, self-obsession, self-absorption. For instance, the buffed and coiffed crowd from the recent Oscars kerfuffle who seem to believe their voices are somehow more poignant than the masses.

I read a lot.  Some of my reading turns to online blogs, a veritable cornucopia when it comes to the self-absorbed.  Any given day yields post after post of exhausting self-analysis and historical references to lost childhoods and failed marriages and abusive bosses and generally all the bad things that have kept the reader from being who they really should be, if only XYZ wouldn’t keep popping up in unexpected (although in reality perhaps completely predictable) ways.

The self-absorbed individual perpetually turns the focus of every conversation back to their own trials and worries.  In fact, some people have developed it into a high art form often even seem witty in their hand-wringing.

There are many types of self-absorption.  There’s the pity seeker who wants the world to know how challenging their lives are; the attention lover who talks incessantly about how attractive or intelligent or desirable others seem to find them; the reverse psychologist who rejects any form of flattery only to seek and expect more (also known as the “passive aggressive reverse maneuver”).

Is it any wonder we’re dealing with the most conceited, dysfunctional, narcissistic, selfish, and rebellious generation in the history of the world?

And then there are the professionals – self-help gurus feeding off the popularization of self-love, self-esteem and the other obsessions of self so en vogue today with modern psychiatrists and psychologists.  With such role models bombarding society from every corner, is it any wonder we’re dealing with the most conceited, dysfunctional, narcissistic, selfish, and rebellious generation in the history of the world?

Scripture gives us a generous amount of guidance in the perils of self-absorption and self-love.  Paul admonished in his letter to the Philippians “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.”

From my perspective, we see so much self-absorption in those around us because in truth the world can sometimes be a pretty sucky place to live. And while some folks do display genuine love and concern for others, in truth, most of us (I embarrassingly include myself in this category) are usually wrapped up in ourselves.

Our central failing is a lack of understanding that when we put love of ourselves over the love for those around us, the  results are inevitably a focus on how unlovable we are.  Ironic, no?  The more we look inward, the more we crave  external validation.

Scripture is clear that the way of the Believer is vastly different from the way of the world. We’re taught that genuine love for our brothers and sisters rather than ourselves is our calling card. John 13:35 quotes Jesus telling us “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

How can we avoid the trap of self-absorption?  How do we look outward rather than inward?

Reflecting on this question, I’m reminded of the 3rd Chapter of 1 John. John reveals in verse 11 that as Believers we are to love not ourselves, but those around us: “For this is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another.”  He then goes further, reminding us that our love one for another is one of the strongest proofs that we are saved, (verses 14-15).

Many people, especially those with a high degree of self-preoccupation, appear to love others.  They lavish those around them with praise and compliments and gifts and attention, making a point to remind everyone how loving they are.

Sadly, the motivation for this type of outward display is often more about the giver rather than genuine love for the person receiving.  And when their “love” is not reciprocated in a manner meeting their expectations, the giver can feel betrayed and abandoned.

Yet when we step outside of self-reflection and self-love, when we turn our gaze from within and look instead at the world around us, if we allow our love to be God-like and all it should be, three very clear characteristics emerge.

First, God-like love is extensive.  As early as Genesis 4:8, we read about the perils of self-love in the actions of Cain against his brother Abel.  Cain did this out of jealousy and self-absorption.  Contrast this with Jesus, who loved so much that even as we were his enemies, he laid his life down for us (John 15:13; Romans 5:8).

This type of genuine, God-like love knows no boundaries and sets no limits. It is unconditional in the truest sense of the word. It expects no reciprocity, nothing in return.

The second characteristic of God-like love is that it’s expensive – there is a true cost to genuine love.  No better example of this cost

can be imagined than the sacrifice of Jesus at the cross of Calvary.  Jesus held nothing back.  He saw our need and met that need with every resource he had.

That’s what real love for others is about. What we have, what we can give – whether it be our time or money or material possessions – these things we should offer freely to those around us regardless of the cost.

Finally, God-like love is expressive.  Genuine love doesn’t simply talk, it doesn’t build a world of words, it takes action. Without the cross, the promise of John 3:16 is meaningless.

How many of us know people who talk but don’t really do? You’ve seen this person, maybe you’ve even been them at times in your life (I know I have).  Promises to help, best intentions, commitments to follow-through for someone in need of our time or attention – yet we don’t deliver.

I have a friend, an acquaintance I’ve actually never met in person.  We share thoughts and ideas occasionally online but really don’t have any deeper relationship.  Not long ago my friend told me he learned that another of our online acquaintances was experiencing a crushing run of bad luck and was at a crisis point.  He asked me if we might pool our resources with one or two other friends and help this individual out.  There would be nothing in return for this help, no tax-deductible receipt, no repayment of the money. It was simply people with genuine love helping a brother.  Without hesitation I said yes.  My friend reminded me that love, real love, is about action, not about faux concern or empty words of “empathy.”

Over the next few days, have a conversation with yourself.  How is your “love” life?  Are you truly caring for others in a selfless and genuine manner?  Do you give freely with no expectation of a return?  Can you forgive and love even when someone repeatedly disappoints you?

Honest answers to these simple questions will be far more profound than all the self-help books ever written.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Too Much is Never Enough

 

“I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.  My heart took delight in all my work, and this was the reward for all my labor. Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun.”  Ecclesiastes 2:10-11

 One of my favorite movies every year is the Frank Capra classic “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  I suspect we’ve all seen this film many times, maybe with at Christmas time with friends or family.  One of the key early scenes is a confrontation between the hero, George Bailey – a man whose future lies in front of him – and the evil millionaire Henry Potter, a man seemingly with everything yet has no redeeming qualities.

In this scene, George is preparing to leave on his long awaited trip to Europe, but is stopped by Potter’s desire to take over the Building and Loan built by George’s father.  Of course, we know how the story ends.  George stays, loses the $8,000 meant for his European trip which he decided to use to save the Building and Loan, and learns the true meaning of life and “having it all” along the way.

What if we could really have it all?  Money. Power. Love. Sex. Respect. Popularity. Absolutely anything we wanted. Many of us spend our lives wishing for that very scenario—or at least imagining what it would be like. But not many of us get there.

Mel Gibson, who has recently re-emerged to Hollywood accolades, got there.

Once an obscure Australian actor, Gibson’s first big break came at 23 in the cult classic Mad Max. More big roles followed in blockbusters such as the Lethal Weapon series, Maverick, Ransom, Conspiracy Theory, Payback, What Women Want and Signs. As his international stardom grew, so did his bank account. At one point Gibson was one of the top-paid actors in the world getting $25 million for every movie he starred in.

But acting wasn’t enough for him. In 1993 he stepped behind the camera to direct The Man Without a Face. Two years later he earned two Academy Awards for directing and producing Braveheart. He earned over half a billion dollars for his production of Passion of the Christ. He seemed unstoppable.

Gibson’s success didn’t stop with his career. He was married to the same woman for 25 years, and they had seven kids together. People magazine named him the Sexiest Man Alive. Premiere magazine listed him as one of the most powerful people in Hollywood.

Worldwide fame. Unlimited riches. True love. Fatherhood. Widespread respect for his talent. International renown for his sexual appeal. Virtually limitless power in his career. Rarely does one man get so much in one lifetime.

Mel Gibson had it all. So he must have been the happiest man on the planet, right? He had the power to do almost anything he wanted. The money to buy almost anything he could imagine. Almost nothing was out of reach for him.

Yet Gibson felt something was missing. All he had wasn’t enough. So he added some new experiences to the mix: addiction. Drugs, alcohol, women, anything. His addictions very nearly ruined his life, if not his career.

Eventually Gibson sought treatment for his addictions. But after getting clean and sober, he found himself right back where he had started: with an emptiness in his life.  He was in the celebrity wilderness for over 10 years.

Gibson wasn’t the first guy to reach that depressing conclusion. In fact the viewpoint is as ancient as the Old Testament.  King Solomon, sometimes referred to as the wisest man in antiquity, was such a man.  Solomon reached the same conclusion about life on earth over 3,000 years ago.  In the Book of Ecclesiastes, he spells out everything he tried in his quest for meaning in this life—and how all of it left him feeling empty.

What happened to Solomon in his quest for meaning?  How did a man who began with so much promise end with such despair and hopelessness?  And more importantly, could this happen to you and me?

Early in his reign, Solomon was described as a king who could do no wrong.  The first 10 chapters of I Kings offer numerous instances of Solomon’s remarkable fitness as King of Israel:

  • In 1 Kings 2 Solomon consolidates his rule.
  • In Chapter 3 God grants him wisdom, wealth, and honor.
  • In Chapter 4, we see Solomon coming into the fullness of his wealth and fame.  Verse 26 reads “Solomon had four thousand stalls for chariot horses and, and twelve thousand horses.”
  • Chapters 5 – 7 describe the building of the Temple and Solomon’s palace, where over 180,000 men were conscripted to provide the labor.
  • Chapter 8 details the dedication of the Temple and the placing of the Ark into inner sanctuary.
  • In Chapter 9 God appears to Solomon for a second time, saying He had heard Solomon’s appeal and promising to put his Name and eyes and heart on the Temple forever and to establish Solomon’s royal throne over Israel forever, so long as Solomon walks before Him “faithfully with integrity of heart and uprightness.”

But then God says something else, something foreshadowing not only Solomon’s later years but the very future of Israel itself.  Listen to the God’s admonition from verses 6-9: “But if you or your descendants turn away from me and do not observe the commands and decrees I have given you and go off to serve other gods and worship them, then I will cut off Israel from the land I have given them and will reject this temple I have consecrated for my Name.’”

This is a remarkable warning from God, directly aimed at Solomon’s one significant character flaw – indeed, the central character flaw in so many of us – pride and the belief that he could discern a better path than the one God has directed.

What I find most interesting here is God’s consistency.  Throughout scripture, God compels us to stay on a path to righteousness.  He doesn’t lurk in the dark corners, waiting for us to make mistakes and raining down punishment when we do.  He tells us plainly, simply, how to lead a life of fulfillment.  He also tells us the consequences when we don’t.

Solomon seemed to have his reign secured.  He had followed God Faithfully and used his wisdom and wealth judiciously.  Yet lying in Solomon’s heart was the seed of his downfall.

What caused that downfall?  In a word, COMPROMISE.  Solomon

“The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon” – Edward Poynter, 1890

compromised his wisdom to gain earthly possessions and fame.  Ultimately, these compromises emptied Solomon’s heart of his love for God.

Solomon’s compromise is our compromise.  Solomon’s downfall is our downfall.  Solomon’s problem was not ignorance but outright rebellion – just as we rebel in our own ways.

Late in life, reflecting on his past, Solomon would realize the mistakes he made in writing Ecclesiastes.  His conclusion in Ecclesiastes 12:13 is telling: “Now all has been heard; here is the heart of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is duty if all mankind.”

No prosperity in the world matters more than this, even today.  As Jesus admonished the crowd in Luke 12:15: “Watch out! Be on guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possession.”  Rather, Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:33 “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness,” just as Solomon had done early in his life.

So many of us know the legacy of Solomon all too well. Over the course of our lives we fall victim to the pursuit of position, of money, and yes, the lure of adoration.  Every achievement – a promotion, a large bonus check, flattery from someone – feeds this sense that we are somehow responsible for our own destinies, that we need no one but myself.

The truth is we are in control of our own destinies.  God grants us that choice.  He calls us to righteousness and we have the choice on how we respond.  We can choose God’s path or we can choose a different path.  When we select a path different from the one God has put before us, He warns us of the consequences.

Like Solomon, most of us have chosen wrongly in the past.  Those choices may have taken large tolls on our relationships, our health, even our walk with God.  All for the pursuit of wealth or recognition or popularity or acceptance.  And all for, as Solomon discovered, nothing.

Yet the story of redemption is, ultimately, the story of return: returning to the path God has set before us, returning to our true selves rather than the selves we have created, returning to the unconditional love given to us by our heavenly Father.  At the moments of our own turning points, perhaps times in when nothing seems to really matter, we find redemption and acceptance and are welcomed back into the arms of a loving God.

Solomon had choices.  We have choices.  God awaits our response.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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The Grace of Silence

 

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” Psalm 131:2

I was having drinks with a friend recently, a self-proclaimed “agnostic.” As an aside, my definition of agnosticism is someone who lacks the intellectual curiosity to learn what Faith entails yet also lacks the (fill in your descriptive term of choice) to outright deny the the existence of a Creator. And yes, I said this person was a friend and yes, we were having a drink.

Actually, I don’t determine friendships based on someone’s political, religious, social, or financial viewpoints even if they differ from mine. Many of my friends hold beliefs diametrically opposed to mine. In fact, I can easily befriend anyone as long as we can share a laugh, a vigorous debate, and a handshake (or hug if they have no personal space issues) over a meal or drink. Well, except Philadelphia Eagles fans and anyone who still has a pair of JNCOs lurking in the back of their closet (you folks know who you are). Sorry, but a guy’s gotta have his standards.

Back to the story. My friend had read a recent post of mine that contained a bit of a faith overtone. He chortled and said “wait – you don’t really believe God actually speaks directly to you or anyone else, do you?” I thought a moment and remembered advice I’d been given a long time ago. I told my friend “The way I see it, life is a school. There are many teachers and God comes to different people in different ways.”

He laughed off my answer and we changed the topic to football. Because, you know, Super Bowl LI.  (Editor’s note: can we TALK about that come back?”)

The truth is, God doesn’t have to speak to us through state-of-the-art sound systems, or even through disembodied booming voices from the heavens. The book of Job tells us “For God speaks in one way, and in two, though man does not perceive it.” (Job 33:14).

Rather, I believe God speaks to us in the silence of our hearts. In her book In the Heart of the World, Mother Teresa considers this subject. “In the silence of the heart God speaks,” she writes. “If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”

Perhaps all of us need a bit more silence in our lives these days…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17