kirkallanlewis@yahoo.com

No Longer Bent

Background Passages: Luke 13:10-17 and I John 1:8-9

I like to think I’m related to him. After all, we all would like to be related to someone famous.

C.S. Lewis, one of the 20th century’s most dynamic apologists of the Christian faith, is best known in the modern world as the author of The Chronicles of Narnia, a story rich in Christian symbolism. I first encountered his writings when I read The Screwtape Letters and Mere Christianity in college. The former an intriguing look at how Satan manipulates us; the latter a deep presentation of the validity of Christianity and what the life of a Christian is like.

He penned a lesser known book called Out of the Silent Planet. Similar to Narnia, it is a science fiction book written in the 1930s in which his protagonist journeys to another world. Like Narnia, he weaves Christian symbolism through the pages of Silent Planet. I admit I’ve only read snippets of this book, but within its pages Lewis uses his space traveler to explain sin to a people who never heard the concept.

After searching for a definition that would make sense to these aliens, the hero settled on the words “bent” and “bound.” Lewis defined sin as “misshapen.” “Not the way we were made to be.” “Not fit for our intended purpose.”

It is as good a definition as any. When a nail is bent, it cannot be hammered unless it is straightened. When an arrow is bent, it cannot fly straight. When we are bent, we are not shaped in the way God intended us to be. Lewis speaks of the sinner as one bound. Tied up. Unable to shake free. Trapped.

To paraphrase Romans, “For all are bent, and fall short of God’s glory.”

I’m writing today, recognizing my “bentness.” Okay, I made up that word, but you get the point. Sin makes us uncomfortable. We don’t like to think about our failings. While we know we sin, we also know that we don’t sin constantly. That we do some things right. We want to focus on that to make ourselves feel a bit better.

Here’s the truth about sin, however. When we break our arm, the rest of our body still functions as designed. We are not capable of doing everything we want to do until the arm is healed. Sin works the same way. While we can still do some good things, as long as sin is in our lives, we aren’t everything God needs us to be. We are not fit for our intended purpose.

Thank God his forgiveness is not just a heavenly thing that comes at the end of our time. Forgiveness is a daily gift for those who seek it.

Luke may not have written this story with that in mind, but it made me think again that God doesn’t wish for us to live bent and bound by sin. Look at Luke 13.

Jesus sat among the people in a local synagogue on the Sabbath, likely at the invitation of the local church officials who were somewhat excited to have this popular rabbi passing through their village. Chances are Jesus had never taught in this synagogue. He probably didn’t know too many people in the crowd. Teaching in the synagogue was simply his practice during his earthly ministry. Something he wanted to do. Something he enjoyed.

In the middle of his dialogue with the people about some passage of scripture, a woman captured Jesus’ attention, stopping him in mid-sentence. In those seconds of silence, you can hear the rustle of robes as the crowd turns to follow Jesus’ gaze.

What Jesus saw broke his heart. He swallowed a wave of overwhelming, God-inspired empathy. A lump of emotion filled his throat and the tears well up in his eyes.

“…a woman was there, crippled by a spirit for 18 years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all.” (Luke 13:11)

When you picture this woman, you have to picture a posture more than stooped. The curvature of her spine forced her shoulders forward and downward. Bent at the waist, hobbling on unsteady legs and a knobby walking stick. Unable to lift her head above her horizon. The woman lived with a stark debilitation that left her crippled and unable to function.

As Jesus’ voice trailed off, he watched as the woman shuffled for her seat along the wall. She didn’t approach Jesus. Made no request of him. She didn’t proclaim her faith in him as a miracle worker. She just wanted to sit to take the burden off her feet and her back.

The rustle of robes returns as the crowd turns back to Jesus, as if to say, “It’s just Miriam. She’s been like that forever.” They know her. They have seen her around the village. Some of them probably even checked on her from time to time.

“Miriam,” my name for her, does today what she has probably done every Sabbath for the past 18 years. There is no indication in scripture that this was an unusual event. No indication that today the spirit moved her to get out of bed and make the difficult journey to the synagogue.

She came, as she always did, to be taught. To worship and learn. Today was no different. She probably didn’t even now there would be a guest teacher in the pulpit. This was just her place on the Sabbath. Jesus called her a “daughter of Abraham” in verse 16, possibly recognizing that this was her faithful pattern on the Sabbath, the place she needed and wanted to be on any Lord’s day.

In the midst of the ordinary, something extraordinary happened in this synagogue on this day.

Jesus swallowed the lump in his throat, choking back his emotion. He stood and called to her before she sat down, asking her to come forward. With difficulty she tilted her head to see who called out to her. As she looked sidelong at Jesus, she sidled slowly, and probably a bit suspiciously, his direction until she stood, hunched over in front of him.

Jesus dropped to a knee with his hand lightly on her shoulder, the tilt of his head matching hers until he looks her in the eyes.

His word is simple. His intent clear.

“Woman, you are set free from you infirmity. He put his hands upon her; and immediately she straightened up and praised God.”

The woman came to God’s house bent and broken, bound by her affliction. Jesus set her free. The root word in Greek for “set free” is to “loosen” or “untie.” She was no longer bent by or bound to her ailment. She had been released from almost two decades of physical torment.

Jesus set her free, released her from her bonds, not because she begged him to, but because he wanted to. He set her free because he wanted her to be free. To be what God intended her to be. It was, after all, the reason he came.

I find that an excellent illustration of our sin and God’s forgiveness. C. S. Lewis says sin misshapes us. Leaves us bent and broken. Paul talks about being bound in sin. Tied up and shackled by it. A slave to it.

I think when Jesus sees us bound in our sin, he still gets that same lump in his throat. That same overwhelming sense of empathy that he learned while hanging on a cross. It is what compelled him to die for us…an empathic love that says, “I can’t stand to see you this way.”

It is what keeps him reminding us, through his spirit, that God stands ready to forgive our sins.

God does not wait for us to come to grips with our bent and misshapen selves. Through Jesus Christ, he called us to himself, looked us in the eye, and took the full burden of our “bentness” all the way to Calvary. In doing so, he said to us, “Straighten up. You are set free.”

Once set free, we can respond as this woman did and praise God who loves us.

But, there is another character in this story. The administrator of the synagogue, the one responsible for proper protocol, objected indignantly to the healing. He quieted the crowd with a stern, “holier-than-thou” stare and a thunderous exclamation.

Rather than challenge this upstart rabbi directly, he turned his back to Jesus and admonished the astonished crowd for getting excited about a breach in protocol, putting Jesus in his place and indirectly chastising the woman whom Jesus healed.

In the arrogant tone of the righteously misguided, he said, “There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath.”

Protocol over people. Ritual over right.

Jesus would have none of it.

“You hypocrites! Doesn’t each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or donkey from the stall and lead it out to give it water?” (Luke 13:15)

There’s that word again. The word Jesus used when he told the woman she had been “set free” from her disability, is the same word translated “untie” in this passage. He’s saying, “You willing set your donkey free on the Sabbath to give him a drink. Yet, you balk at setting this woman free from an 18-year trauma.”

Jesus said it better than I did. He said,

“Then should not this woman, this daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has kept bound for 18 long years, be set free (untied, released) on the Sabbath day from what bound her?” (Luke 13:16)

Here’s the kicker in this part of the story. We see clearly that the woman was set free, but what of the church official. His strict adherence to a distorted interpretation of scripture and church tradition, left him criticizing when he ought to be celebrating. His objection revealed just how bent out of shape he was. Revealed the sin in his life.

You have to wonder about the administrator. I wonder how many times this poor woman sought his prayers for healing over 18 years. I wonder if seeing her every Sabbath and now seeing her healed shamed him for his failure to invoke God’s healing.

This poor church official fell victim to a distorted spiritual view that at times inflicts all of us. C. S. Lewis said, “Those of us who do not think about our own sins make up for it by thinking incessantly about the sins of others.” It was and is a myopic view.

This church official, like me at times, got so busy “doing church” that he “did no good.” He could not recognize that his reliance on ritual blinded him to his own “bentness.” Bound to sin he didn’t know he had. Thinking that his body was functioning at 100 percent efficiency without acknowledging that his arm was broken.

When faced with our own sin, we have two choices.

We can fail to recognize that we are as bent spiritually as this woman was physically. Without recognizing our hypocrisy and seeking God’s forgiveness, we remain tied and bound to the sin.

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us…” (I John 1:8)

Or…

We can recognize our misshapen selves. That we are living in a way that is not what God intended. A burdened, but repentant heart that stands hunched over before God seeking his forgiveness and willing to accept the grace gift of his forgiveness.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (I John 1:9)

The attitude of the contrite gives God the chance to put his hand lightly on our shoulder and tell us to straighten up. It is a moment for praising God and celebrating our new freedom in him.

When we have been untied from the sin in our lives, Jesus gives us the opportunity to be “surprised by joy,” to use again the words of C. S. Lewis. The woman in our story praised the one who set her free.

I’m grateful for my God who is relentless in his desire to forgive.

The Still, Small Voice

Background: I Kings 19:11-12

Back in 2003, Natalie Gilbert, a 13-year-old girl, was scheduled to perform the National Anthem at an NBA basketball game. She had a beautiful voice and frequently sang the anthem at other public events. This time was different, though. As she began to sing, her memory failed her. The familiar words to The Star-Spangled Banner would not come.

Gilbert stood in front of the packed arena crowd and a live television audience in silence, shocked and humiliated…in front of God and everybody.

As the music played unaccompanied by words, Maurice Cheeks, then coach of the Portland Trailblazers walked up and stood beside Gilbert with his arm around her shoulders. He bent over and began to whisper the words in her ear. As she picked up the song, he stood and sang with her, a little off-key, waving to the 20,000 in attendance to join in.

Cheeks, in his compassion, cared so much for a scared girl he did not know so he whispered the words she needed to hear. “I just didn’t want her to feel alone,” he later said.

That whisper reminded me of another quiet voice directed toward a scared individual who felt all alone. I’ve written about it before.

Back on July 28, 2018, I wrote a devotional entitled, “What Are You Doing Here,” using the biblical text found in I Kings 19. Elijah, the great prophet of God called down the thunder and lightning on the false priests of Baal, demonstrating the reality of the God of creation that he served.

His little show brought out the wrath of Queen Jezebel who put a bounty on Elijah’s head. The mighty prophet lost his nerve and ran as far away as his feet would take him.

Troubled and despondent, Elijah huddled in a cave on Mount Horeb wishing for death to come when God drew him out of his despair by asking a simple question. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” God reminded the prophet that he was not finished with him yet. There was still work to do.

It was a reminder I needed at the time. (If you’re interested, you can find it in the archives of my website. http://wordpress.drkirklewis.com/2018/07/

I found myself again in I Kings this week reading the same story. As he often does, God chose to teach me a new thing. A different lesson from the same set of verses.

Elijah huddled in the corner of his cave wrapped in a blanket of self-pity, determined to make the cave his crypt. God, in his understanding of the human soul, urged Elijah to get up.

“Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” (I Kings 19:11)

Whether he climbed this mountain on purpose or by providence, God’s prophet found himself on Mount Horeb…Mount Sinai. The same mountain where God revealed himself to Moses in the lightning, smoke and thunder as he was leading the Hebrew people from captivity in Egypt.

God would again use this place to open the eyes of his servant.

Before Elijah could rise from his hiding place to do as God asked, a raging wind tore boulders from the cliff, threatening to trap him inside. An earthquake rattled the ground beneath and above him, showering him in dust and fragments of stone. An inferno scoured the landscape below him, consuming everything in its path.

Though Moses experienced God’s presence in the storm, Elijah would not find God in the terrifying display of nature’s power. But…

“…after the fire came a gentle whisper” (I Kings 19:12)

At the sound of a still, small voice, Elijah gathered himself and walked out of the cave onto the ledge of the mountain. God opened his eyes to the possibility that there was still work to be done.

It is in that whisper that God had another lesson to teach me this week. Have you ever wondered how God speaks to us today…or even if he speaks?

God brought the consuming lightning to the altar on Mount Carmel, giving Elijah the victory over the pagan prophets. He spoke in the power of that moment.

Bold.

Brash.

Brilliant.

We want God’s word to us to be equally clear. We want the bold and the dramatic so we can’t possibly miss what God wants us to do…what he’s trying to say to us.

Give us a burning bush.

Manna from Heaven.

A whirlwind.

But God is not always into the bold and dramatic. He’s not always making the big splash that we want him to make. The voice does not call out to us from the clouds, “This thou shalt do…,” though that would be infinitely easier on us.

God’s word is not always dramatic. Sometimes, its a whisper.

Silent.

Soft.

Subtle.

The contrast of the tumult outside the cave and gentle murmur tickling the ear reminds me that God speaks most often in his way. If we only wait for God to speak to us in the extraordinary and uncommon, we will rarely hear his voice in the ordinary and common moments of life.

If we’re waiting for the king’s proclamation following the blast of trumpets and the shout of angels, we will miss the stifled cry of a baby, wrapped in ragged clothes and laying in a manger of smelly hay.

If we’re waiting for the battle cry of rebellion against the forces of evil, will will miss the soft voice from the cross, “It is finished.”

If we’re waiting for God to stand outside the tomb and shout, “I’m back!” we’ll miss him quietly asking us, “Whom do you seek?”

How does God speak to his people today? With every tool at his disposal from the miraculous to the mundane, I know he has many ways. This story of Elijah tells us just one. But, this one way, I believe, is his most prominent way, of speaking to me. I’ve found it to be true in my life.

God speaks to me in the still, small voice inside my heart and head. It is the voice that tells me that person at the table with the sad eyes needs to hear a word of encouragement. The man with the angry face needs my presence today. That homeless man on the corner could really use that $20 in my wallet. That child sitting alone at lunch needs me to sit with them for a while. MY wife needs a hug today.

God speaks through the unseen actions of his people. The random and intentional acts of kindness that provide meals for the family of the one with cancer. With every tree cleared from a stranger’s driveway in the aftermath of a devastating storm. With every step of progress made toward social justice that makes a nation better than it was before. God speaks through his people in the every day, nitty-gritty reality of life.

God speaks to me through the quiet voice of his spirit that guides me down a path I would not otherwise choose because he knows that place is the best place for me to be.

It is less important how God speaks to us than what we do with what he says.

The voice that whispered to Elijah is the same voice that whispers to me and you. We have an opportunity Elijah didn’t have. Elijah could not look upon the Lord. He was not permitted.

Because God became flesh and dwelt among us, because he lived, died and was resurrected, because Jesus words were written in scripture and made available to all of us, we can see and hear the one who speaks to us by reading his word, hearing his voice pour out of the printed page and into our hearts.

I think back on the times of my life when I stood frozen at center court, unable to speak or move. Amid the awkwardness, God’s voice whispers in my ear a word of purpose and encouragement, giving me the words to sing. As my faltering voice catches in my throat, I hearing him sing the words beside me.

God could speak to me in the thunder and lightning, but I find comfort and peace in the whispered words of a God whose compassion runs too deep to leave me standing there alone.

So, when you can hear nothing else, listen. Listen for the still, small voice of God.

He Went About Doing Good

Background Passage: Acts 10:28; Galatians 6:9-10; Galatians 5:22-23, 25

I no longer watch much news. And in this era of rampant social media, I carefully pick and choose the type of post I read. I find myself listening less and blocking more and more posts, not because I disagree with them, but for their tone.

Both mainstream and social media fill the air and their column inches with bad news, hateful rhetoric and intolerance. Ending each newscast with a snippet of “good news,” does little to offset the divisiveness previously portrayed.

Don’t get me wrong. I truly believe there is far more good in this world than bad. Our urgency to celebrate the good and correct the bad needs to be foremost in our hearts and minds. Yet, when you listen to the voices of the world, it seems as though no one is trying to make a positive difference. No one is doing anything good.

The offhand comment spoken by Peter to Cornelius, an inquisitive, God-fearing Roman centurion, gets buried in a lengthy narrative about the work of God through Jesus Christ. I find it crucially important, especially in today’s world. Peter said of Jesus:

“…he went about doing good…” (Acts 10:28)

Peter encapsulated the entire ministry of Jesus in those five simple words. “He went about doing good.”

He healed. He fed. He comforted. He touched. He taught. He led. He encouraged. He restored. He challenged. Along his path and in his time, lives changed.

If we are to use Jesus as our role model, then we, too, must go about “doing good.”

In his letter to the churches in Galatia…modern day Turkey…, Paul spent time encouraging their behavior toward one another. Using tender words that speak of a doctor setting a broken bone so it would heal properly, Peter talked about restoring the sinner…healing the broken. He told these early Christians that a man will reap what he sows. That one who plants the seeds of sinfulness will reap the consequences of those actions and that one who lives by the spirit of God will find eternal life.

Then, his words encouraged the believers to “do good.”

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people…” (Galatians 6:9-10)

What is this “doing good” that Paul addresses?

For Paul, doing good had everything to do with living by the spirit of God. He addressed what it means to live by the spirit in the fifth chapter of his Galatian letter.

“So I say, live by the spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature.” (Galatians 5:16)

For all practical purposes in our doctrine of the Trinity, there is no spiritual difference in God, the Father, Jesus, the Son, or the Holy Spirit. They are one and the same. Therefore, living by the spirit is to live as Jesus lived. To live as God desires us to live.

After running a long list describing our sinful natures, Paul added this:

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

In other words, “doing good.” These are the attitudes of the heart that prompt our doing good. The condition of our hearts compels us to heal, feed, comfort, touch, teach, lead, encourage, restore, challenge and change lives…just as Jesus did.

Paul told the believers that these acts were not one time deeds. You cannot spend just one day loving. We must love every day. We cannot do one kind thing. We must be kind continuously. If lives are to be changed, we must make the effort always. We must keep on doing good each day we live. Paul ended this part of the discussion by saying:

“Since we live by the spirit, let us keep in step with the spirit.” (Galatians 5:25)

Walking in relationship with the Father, through our trust in the Son and the influence of his Spirit. Every step of the way.

Paul said, “Do not grow weary of doing good.” If living in step with the spirit and doing good is such a high calling why would we ever grow weary of doing good?

We may find ourselves alone in the work. Criticized by those who do not understand. We may see our good deeds rebuffed, our efforts ignored. We may lose our own enthusiasm and start going through the motions. We may be doing the work in our own strength or for our own glory. We may lose faith that God is at work. We may grow discouraged because we cannot see the results of our labor.

What it boils down to is this. We grow weary of doing good because we lose sight of the ultimate goal of our work…to draw all to Christ. It is the reason for every act of goodness and its purpose is has eternal consequences for all we encounter.

Paul’s words pull us back to what matters most in our desire to do good.

When we explore the life of Jesus, we see it at every turn. Every action had a purpose. An intent. Everything Jesus did was meant to draw someone to accept the grace gift of salvation. He healed to remedy an affliction, but he did so hoping that the healed might believe.

He comforted to ease the suffering, but he did so hoping that the comforted might believe. He fed to erase the hunger pangs of the starving, but he did so hoping that the satisfied might believe. His deeds were an extension of who he was…an extension of his faith and trust in the Father.

Our doing good, modeled after Jesus, should have the same intent and purpose. Our actions ought to reflect our faith and trust in him. Every good we do ought to meet a need, hoping that those we helped will be drawn to God. That’s the aim of doing good. And it requires us to keep our eyes on that goal.

Florence Chaddick waded into the sea off Catalina Island 21 miles off the coast of California on July 4, 1951 with every intention of being the first woman to swim to the mainland. Swimming long distances was not new to her. She was the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions just a few years earlier.

The challenge before her was less the distance than the chilly waters of the Pacific. On the morning of her swim, a dense, thick fog descended upon the ocean reducing visibility to a mere feet. Two boats accompanied her to keep her on track and to protect her from sharks. Her mother stood in the lead boat while her trainer followed behind.

She swam for hours never seeing beyond the lead boat. After a time, Florence began to complain about the water and the cold. She was ready to quit. Her mother provided encouragement and cheered her on. Florence continued to swim. When she would lag behind, her trainer in the back boat pushed her. Soon, she said she was done, unable to swim any longer. Her mother and trainer would not let her quit.

She struggled for a time more. After 15 bone chilling hours in the sea, Florence gave up. She climbed into the boat only to realize she had quit within a quarter of a mile of the coast. Later, she told a reporter, “If I could have seen land, I might have made it.”

Chadwick returned to Catalina Island the next year to try again. Though greeted by another foggy day, she dove in. She achieved her goal this time, remarkably besting the men’s record by more than two hours. On this occasion she made it by telling herself over and over again that the land was there. She just had to keep swimming.

Here’s my take away. Do not grow weary of doing good. Keep swimming. Trust that as you live by the spirit…on the course you’ve taken…that land is not that far away. In God’s appointed time, we will “reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Our work is not for naught. God is at work in our doing good.

I’ll simply end by echoing Paul’s final encouragement to look for every chance we have to do what is good and right.

“Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people.” (Galatians 6:10)

Seasons of Our Lives

Background Passage: Ecclesiastes 3:1-14; Ecclesiastes 1:9

It’s one of the few commercials I enjoy. Veteran actor J. K Simmons in his persona as an agent for a national insurance company, leads a client through their Hall of Claims. He describes a bizarre and unlikely happening once covered under their policy…like the Three-Ringed Fender Bender, an accident caused by a clown car rear-ending another vehicle.

He typically ends the tour with the tagline, “We know a thing or two because we’ve seen a thing or two.”

The writer of Ecclesiastes, in his infinite wisdom, had a similar thought. He had seen it all.

“What has been will be again. What has been done will be done again. There is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

Solomon, the last king of a united Israel and the youngest son of David, is generally credited with writing some of the Psalms, the Song of Solomon and most of Ecclesiastes. In the beginning of Ecclesiastes, the writer is called “The Preacher” in some translations or “The Teacher” in others. His words are always instructive.

“What has been will be again.” This statement sounds pessimistic, resigned to the inevitable. “There is nothing new under the sun.”

I think it’s wisdom that comes with age where one begins to recognize how often history and life repeat. It is a wisdom that knows that nothing, and I mean nothing, surprises our God.

Shortly after the start of the riots in Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland and other major urban centers, one of my sons expressed how unsettled he felt as he watched what was happening. He recognized the validity of the protests and the need for progress in civil rights, but struggled with the violence associated with it.

I told him I felt the same way as I watched all that transpired in the 60s and 70s. The need for change was real. The destruction was a tragic waste and did more harm than good. We got through those years by taking some tough steps forward. We can and must do the same this time. There is nothing new in the unsettled feelings we’re feeling.

Pandemics come and go throughout history. Depression and joblessness recur in a cyclical nature. Periods of civil unrest lead to important social change. Hotly contested elections play out in front of us with lies, half-truths and innuendo. Whatever we are experiencing, we’ve been there before. There really is nothing new under the sun.

As life unfolds around us we learn that there is a season for all things in God’s created world. Chaos exists in our world. Resolution comes. The pattern repeats, not because God has lost control, but because that is life.

The teacher of Ecclesiastes would tell us that every thing happens in its time and that the God of the universe works within the chaos and the calm for a purpose, even when we don’t know what he’s doing or why.

Listen to the Preacher’s poetry (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).

There is a time for everything—
and a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to uproot.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build.
A time to weep and a time to laugh.
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.

See in the phrasing…his choice of words…the order and balance of God’s creation. The contrasting couplets give evidence that life has its seasons, its time, for all things. Yet, the couplets are not sequential. They fall randomly in the poem as they fall randomly in life. They represent the broad spectrum of life as we live it from birth to death. Not all roses and lemonade. Not all darkness and doom.

It is all we experience in the dash between the day of our birth and the day of our death. It is life. In life God grants us the time to do what he needs us to do. To experience the living…the good and the bad of it…to make memories and to have experiences that draw us closer to the God who loves us.

God wants us to spend our time wisely in that to which he calls us. Time is his gift to us. How we use it during the seasons of our life ought to matter to us because it matters to God.

Most of the time when we read or hear these verses we stop at the end of the poem. Yet, to stop at the end of the poem is accepting the vagaries of life as if the Creator set the world in motion and let it run unattended since the dawn of time.

In such a world we exist as flotsam, adrift in a placid ocean that turns stormy with each wisp of wind. To stop at the end of the poem is defeatist. Little more than life left to the arbitrary whim of a callous and uncaring god.

The wise writer of Ecclesiastes refused to believe that. He had more to say. And, to me, it is the heart of the matter.

“What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:9-11)

Life is a series of contrasting events…the inevitable good and bad times. It is what we do with it and the attitude we carry that makes a difference. Here’s a tremendous take away.

This verse is written by a man who has seen the hurricane hide the sunset. A man who suffered the storm and watched the dawning of a bright, new day. The older I get and the more hardships I encounter, I know that “this, too, shall pass.”

Solomon recognized that through the good and the bad of life, God “makes everything beautiful in its time.” These are words written by a man who knows that even in the darkest of nights and the deepest of despair, God is at work.

And, it’s not just an Old Testament construct. Paul said, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

The ugly becomes beautiful in the hands of a loving God and that is a mystifying process beyond our comprehension…a God-worked mystery “no one can fathom…from beginning to end.” I can know God is at work without ever seeing his hand until the storm passes. That’s why we must find time in our busy days to reflect on where we’ve been and what has transpired. Hindsight is 20/20. (Aren’t we all ready to see 2020 in our hindsight.)

To Solomon, the teacher, the king, life boiled down to this. It is not complicated. It is not abstract. It is profound in its simplicity.

“I know there is nothing better than for people to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them shall eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil—that is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing can be taken from it.” (Ecclesiastes 3:14)

Ecclesiastes teaches us to enjoy God’s gifts today. Being content with life regardless of circumstance is a gift of God to those who make “doing good” a priority. Focusing our attention on doing good and enjoying life can help us accept the balance between the seasons of mourning and the seasons of dance. Between the good days and the bad.

Paul echoed the sentiment to the church at Philippi, declaring that God continually grants him the strength to find peace in every season.

“I am not saying this because I am in need for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty…I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)

In what season do you find yourself today? The answer will be different for each of us. Some will be at war and others at peace. Some will be keeping and others throwing away. Some will be searching and others will give up. Some will gather stones while others are scattering them to the wind.

I don’t know in what season you find yourself, but I know this. God knows a thing or two because he’s seen a thing or two. He is at work in your season and you are not alone.

When we live for him, God’s way is both manageable and meaningful. Rather than complaining about our circumstances, about the things we don’t have or the bad times we’re going through; rather than crawling in our foxholes in the vain hope that the difficulties will pass over our heads; let’s enjoy the time he has granted us to live. Let us find that which God is teaching us and celebrate it.

“There is a time for everything and a season, a purpose, for every activity under heaven.”

The Unexamined Life

Background Passages: 2 Timothy 4:3-4, 2 Timothy 2:15, 2 Corinthians 13:5, and Psalm 139:23-24

I’ve taught Sunday School to one age group or another since I was 18 years old. To keep you from doing the math in your head, that’s 48 years.

I always felt that those who taught Sunday School carried an extra burden to prepare a lesson that was meaningful and applicable to those who would hear it. I wish I could tell you I diligently prepared every lesson I’ve taught, but I really can’t. There were too many times when the distractions of life got in the way. Shame on me.

As a child I can remember laying on the floor of our den watching television or playing a game while my Mom and Dad sat in their recliners studying the lesson they were going to teach that Sunday. To hear them dissect and discuss what they were reading made an impression on me. Faith requires a lot of self-examination; questioning what we believe and why we believe it.

Paul offered a word of encouragement to Timothy, a young pastor in Ephesus, that I want to extend to you. It serves as a good reminder to me every time I prepare a lesson or when I sit down to write a Bible study like this one. Paul wrote:

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, and who correctly handles the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15

Whether we teach or not, we have an obligation to study God’s word so we can interpret and apply it correctly in our daily lives. Paul wanted Timothy to put in the good work. To serve in such a way that when judgment came, he could hold his head up knowing that he did what God asked of him.

To be able to do so requires us to know the word of God well enough that we can apply it effectively and correctly in every life circumstance.

I know my natural tendency would be to filter scripture through my preconceived ideas of how the world should be. There is even a temptation to bend the scripture to fit those preconceptions and biases. Truthfully, that’s spiritual laziness at its best.

Socrates, I think, would have understood this. The ancient Greek philosopher was sentenced to death in 399 BC for his controversial teachings on the nature of politics and religion. His accusers felt as though he was corrupting the young people of Greece. He was just trying to get them to think on their own rather than take all of life for granted.

At his sentencing, the tribunal gave him an ultimatum…spend the remainder of his life in exile or die. Knowing that his students needed to challenge their thinking in order to grow and learn, he could not simply leave. Facing death, Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

This famed teacher of Plato believed the ability to ask, examine and understand yourself and the world around you would make you a better person. To Socrates, self-examination was critical. I suspect this is what he meant when he taught his pupils to “know thyself.”

Life is confusing in the best of times. These are not the best of times.

Bombarded each hour by formal and informal news and social media outlets, each with an apparent internal bias, our ability to separate fact from fiction grows severely compromised with each passing day. We end up grasping for the easy and comfortable tidbits that conform to our personal biases without searching our own hearts and minds for truth. We just accept or reject it what we read or hear depending on how it fits with our personal views, giving no credence to the thought that we might be wrong.

What’s true in life is true in faith. When we live content to rest upon our preconceived notions without serious and constant examination, taking everything at face value depending on how it connects to those preconceptions, we sit on a perilous perch.

It is awfully easy to accept Christ as savior and do little with it. We learn the rudiments of faith and stop learning what it really means in the nitty-gritty of life to be a follower of Christ.

The truth is that living an unexamined spiritual life will produce mediocrity almost every time. Paul encouraged Timothy to “correctly handle the word of God because…

“The time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” 2 Timothy 4:3-4

Isn’t that our way? Our personal biases filter God’s word, rejecting any message that “corrects or rebukes” our limited understanding of what it means to live for Christ.

I am a work in progress when it comes to understanding who God is and what he requires of me as a Christian in today’s world…and I’ve been at this a very long time.

Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. As I study, as I question, as I examine my own beliefs and understanding, God shapes, clarifies, expands, changes and challenges my definition and application of faith. I realize I don’t know one-half of what I thought I knew.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. When I write these Bible studies, they are personal. I’m writing what I’ve learned and what’s on my heart. What I write is my attempt to show what I think God is teaching me as a life-long learner in God’s kingdom. Please read them through the inquisitive mind of self-reflection and self-examination.

To be effective in one’s Christian walk one must examine one’s thinking. That is, indeed, a treacherous journey into our hearts…into the deep inside of us that only we and God know.

We hear many sermons and Sunday School lessons on how to live a Christlike life, sharing God’s love with others, showing compassion and mercy to the world around us. These things emphasize service as the hallmark of our obedience to God.

Sustaining that work to any great degree is impossible without growing our inner self. Reflective examination of all we believe.

God can be the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. We cannot. A life lived on spiritual autopilot, following the easy path, takes this amazing gift and grace of God for granted. It is a life without reflection and, consequently, without much understanding.

The unexamined life reduces our existence to a set of tasks that we think we must do to earn God’s love. God’s grace doesn’t work that way.

The Corinthian church had faltered, surrendering the moral high ground to the world around them. Paul exhorted them to stay on the right path. He urged them to constantly looking inward…check the heart and mind…set aside their personal assumptions. It’s written as a critical imperative.

“Examine yourselves to see if you are in the faith; test yourselves.” 2 Corinthians 13:5

The author of a blog on the Toward Conservative Christianity website wrote it this way. “As reflection and contemplation wither, inevitably wonder, awe and worship suffer as well. It comes down to our willingness to ask ourselves, ‘Why do I believe that?’, and then searching for the answers in God’s word.”

God, through his spirit, is more than willing to help with that process. As the Psalmist said,

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24

It seems to me that God’s spirit reveals those answers to us based on our ability to understand in this moment, giving us the time and insight we need to reach the next level of spiritual growth…then the next…then the next. I know it has worked that way for me.

He’ll do this for us as long as we keep searching. For as long as we keep searching, he’ll keep opening our eyes to the wonder of who he is and what he requires of us.

At least that’s the way it appears to this one who is still learning.

Somewhere in Your Silent Night

Background Passages: Psalm 69; Luke 15:1-6; Ephesians 3:14-19

On the one hand…

You can see the anxiety in the eyes behind the masks. You can sense the anguished emotions in social media posts announcing the hospitalization or death of a loved one or friend from the coronavirus.

You can feel the desperation as you drive past empty businesses, stores and restaurants representing the livelihood of people who own the establishment or work within the organization.

There is palpable unease among educators and parents at the prospects of in person school or another semester of online learning.

On the other hand…

A foreboding sense of frustration exists among those who struggle with the restrictions imposed during this time of pandemic. Their hearts, not personally touched by the tragedies caused by the virus, long for a return to normal. A cacophony of mixed messages create distrust of any word that runs counter to their hopes. They find it hard to believe in anything.

It doesn’t take a long look at social media to see that a great many people are at their breaking point. Two sides of the same coin. Both struggling for answers.

The Psalmist would understand these feelings of distress.

“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths where there is no foothold…I am worn out calling for help. My throat is parched. My eyes fail looking for my God…Answer me, Lord, out of the goodness of your love. In your mercy turn to me. Do not turn your face from your servant; answer me quickly, for I am in trouble. Come near and rescue me…I looked for sympathy but there was none, for comforters, but I found none.” (Psalm 69:1-3; 16-18, 30)

In a world experiencing such uncertainty, a roiling tension simmers just beneath the surface threatening to consume us. In such a place it is easy to feel out of sorts. Isolated. Lonely. Agitated. Anxious.

His undying hope in the Lord was his answer.

“I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving…you who seek God, may your hearts live!” (Psalm 69:30,32)

Have you noticed that we tend to revive our hope during Christmas? Despite the issues we’ve faced during the year, the celebration of that day when hope came to live among us, changes our perspective. Sadly, for far too many, the feeling dissipates with the aging of the new year. It seems to be the case in 2020.

Maybe we need a little Christmas this July.

I’m trying to exercise more amid the weirdness going on around me. I listen to music as I walk or swim as a way of breaking up the repetitive nature of my workouts. I usually set my player on “shuffle” to get a variety of tunes. This week, for the first time, one of the songs that popped up was from a Christmas album by Casting Crowns.

When the music began playing during a recent walk, I started to click past it. It’s way too early for Christmas, I thought. For whatever reason, I let it play. I heard a song with a message too beautiful for one season.

Listen to Somewhere in Your Silent Night.

It is not hard to imagine a great many of us laboring with our thoughts as we lie in bed in the middle of the night. Minds racing. Unable to sleep. Amid the stillness and quiet, our hearts are troubled by the circumstances in which we find ourselves. A country that feels like it’s tearing itself apart. All authority questioned. People at odds with one another. A deadly and debilitating illness threatening every family. Our lives turned upside down.

In the escalating tension of our lives, it’s hard to find life’s joy and peace. As the song says, “you feel too far gone and too far out of reach.” Like the Psalmist, our broken hearts cry out for relief. We long for comfort.

The lyrics remind us that in the middle of the silence, heaven hears our broken hearts. Hope is here. Love comes to find us in the form of the baby in a manger who grew to be the man on the cross.

Here are the words that spoke so clearly during my walk.

“From heaven’s height to manger low,
There is no distance the Prince of Peace won’t go.
From manger low to Calvary’s hill
When your pain runs deep his love runs deeper still.

“Lift your head. Lift your heart.
Emmanuel will meet you where you are.
He knows your hurt.
He knows your name.
You’re the very reason that he came.”

The Bible tells it in a beautiful story in Luke of the shepherd tending his flock. As he frequently did, the shepherd counted them all to make sure none were lost. This time he found one sheep missing. Immediately, he scoured the hillside. Crawled through the gullies and crevices. Tore through the thicket of thorns. Braved the lion’s den.

He searched through the night until he found the one who was lost. Tending to its needs, he carried the animal in his arms, ensuring that no harm would come. When he placed the lamb back into the fold, he rejoiced.

God is there for his flock, but he will go to great lengths to find the lost and broken.

This is an unusual time, but none of this weirdness caught God by surprise. No matter how deep your hurt, God’s love is deeper still. No matter how lost you feel in the moment, he will never stop calling your name. In the middle of your anxiousness, his love will find you.

No. It’s not Christmas. If, however, Christmas is a time to remember our hope in the God who is ever-present in this hurting world, then now is as good a time as any to put out the Nativity and sing a few carols of joy and peace.

Now is as good a time as any to celebrate that he came and that he remains with us. Now is as good as time as any to allow God to find you where you are because you are the reason he came.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Just call on his name and…

Love will find you.

Paul’s prayer for the church in Ephesus seems appropriate today. It is my closing prayer for you.

“For this reason I kneel before the Father…I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how long and wide and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:14-19)

Amen and again, Amen.

Finding Hope Amid the Hopelessness

Background Passages: Psalm 31:24, Psalm 33:18, Romans 5:3, Isaiah 40:31, Romans 12:12, Jeremiah 29:11

If our coronavirus, racial-tense, economically stricken world has taught us anything, it’s that the things of this world will confound and confuse us, rust away and lose their luster, or fizzle out and fade away.

Maybe we can handled one or two of those things happening at the same time. When we are hit with a tsunami of negative news and issues seemingly without solution, the feeling of hopelessness can overwhelm us.

I’m a generally optimistic person and I admit I’ve felt it at times during the past five months. We wonder: “Will we survive this?” Or “When will this ever end?”

Two verses provide a message for our worrisome day.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” (Psalm 31:24) “The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him; on those who hope in his unfailing love.” (Psalm 33:18)

The verses beg the question. What is our source of hope?

Several years ago, psychologist Dr. Shane Lopez began to ask those he encountered what they meant when they talked about hope. To get the conversation started, he asked his friends and clients to take the Head-Heart-Holy test. It starts, he said, by asking the question, “Given your background and all life experiences, where does hope originate?”

The analysis determines whether one’s hope comes from one’s head (That which you believe and think you can control), heart (The emotions that respond to events and guide your actions) or whatever one finds sacred (the belief in God or some higher power at work). Lopez says that most people ascribe hope to the heart…a feeling that comes and goes depending on life events and circumstances.

It seems to me if you’re dependent upon life circumstances as a basis of hope, much of your life will be spent in a frenzied foxhole, hoping to avoid what feels inevitable. For those of us who put our faith and trust in Christ, the origin of hope is found in a leap of faith, especially in the darkest times.

Growing up on a farm 22 miles from the nearest decent sized city, I took for granted the stars in the night sky. I remember looking up late at night and seeing the clear band of the Milky Way spreading across the night sky amid a universe of galactic pinpoints of light. After living almost all my adult life in the suburbs of Houston, it’s a rare night outside when I can see more than a handful of the brightest planets or star clusters.

Stars are amazing and beautiful, but you can only see them at night. The deeper the darkness, the brighter, and more plentiful, the stars.

The stars prove to be an interesting metaphor for Christian hope. We rarely call upon it in the light of prosperity and peace. We hold onto it, but don’t draw upon it. No, we discover hope in the dark night of adversity. Famed pastor C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “Hope is like a star. Often, we only see it when we are facing suffering.”

The point he was trying to make, I think, is that difficult times cause us to call upon our hope in Christ. Paul told the Roman church that the persecution they faced would eventually lead to hope.

“…We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3)

If we truly believe that God can find a way to bring about good even in the most difficult circumstance as he tells us in Romans 8:28, then the dark days of pandemic, turmoil and financial stress should elicit the hope within us. It is a trust that God is at work in our lives and in the world and that the final outcome, the final victory is his…and by extension…ours.

If suffering is a part of life, which our experience tells us it is, we get to choose whether or not it will overwhelm us. Our security comes from the one in whom we believe, not from our own feelings or emotions which tend to weaken our knees. The difference between the Christian’s response to trouble and that of one without Christ is hope.

This verse in Isaiah stands to me as one of the most uplifting and poetic passages in all scripture. It speaks to the natural outgrowth of Christian hope.

“…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

When fear and worry begin to gnaw at my soul, that verse echoes off the walls that seem to surround and trap me. I hear it and the difficult steps I have to take get easier, less heavy-footed. My whole demeanor and attitude change.

Troubled times have a season. They will come and go. Ebb and flow. My approach to the trauma of the day becomes one of joyous hope as I try to wait upon God to answer prayers. Yet, this is what is required of me.

“Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)

For most of those Dr. Lopez surveyed, hope was conditional, framed by the circumstances in which they found themselves or the people with whom they were surrounded. Our hope as Christians is not grounded on circumstance, people or our own personal choices. Hope is found in Christ alone. It is a refrain pronounced by Edward Mote, a 19th century London cabinetmaker turned minister. In 1863, he penned the words of one of the great hymns of all time.

“My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

“When darkness veils his lovely face,
I rest on his unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil.

“On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Hope shines brightest in the darkest storms. If your experiences in this messed up world give you a sense of foreboding, helplessness and hopelessness, know that God’s hope shines brightest in the darkest storm. He is the only solid rock in a quicksand world.

The hope we have is not based on circumstances, people, or even our own choices – hope is found in Christ alone. What a comfort this is to our lonely and hurting hearts! God is faithful and will not disappoint.

Rest your heart upon this word.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Somehow, that makes me feel better. May we all test positive for hope this week.

Painting a Masterpiece

Background Passage: 2 Peter 1:3-10

I decided a year ago to explore my artistic side by learning to paint using watercolors. It’s not an easy medium to master. However, over the past few months I have sold three watercolor paintings. I’m now officially a struggling artist.

Though I took weekly lessons for two months last summer, most of what I’ve learned has been through videos and trial and error. For every painting I like, there are one or two more that get crumpled and tossed into the trash.

Recently, I’ve tried painting portraits of my four grandchildren, Eli, Josiah, Lena and Amelia. To paint in watercolor, I choose a photograph I like, trace the image I want as my foundation. Then, I start with a faded wash, brushing in the background colors.

As I work through the painting, I lay down layer after layer of progressively darker color. The joy of the work is seeing the image slowly emerge as each layer is established. The traced outline that serves as my foundation comes to life as each layer is added. The end result is a more complete image of someone I love.

I think Peter would have understood the illustration. He wrote his second letter to the early Christian church near the end of his ministry as an impassioned plea for them to grow in spiritual maturity. He did not want them to forget the virtues that stand upon the foundation of faith.

Accepting Christ as savior on faith provides the perfect outline for the image we wish to become. Once faith becomes a part of who we are, however, we should continue to grow. To add more layers upon that foundation of faith so a more complete image of the person God created us to be can emerge.

Peter’s world grew complicated with a number of false teachers trying to usurp the message of the early church. These young congregations were in danger of falling victim to a warped gospel. Peter desired to jog their memories and make them think, hoping that they would recall the words he and the other disciples preached and taught. His words are wonderful reminders for today’s Christian who longs to live like Christ.

God’s power, Peter says, gives us all we need for a godly life. His “great and precious” promises, his covenant with us in Jesus Christ, ensures we have the ability to live according to his divine nature. Our task is to meditate on those promises. To make them a part of who we are. Thinking upon the promises of God is often the prelude to finding them fulfilled.

Peter then makes a presumption that the faith of all believers is the basic and fundamental constant…part and parcel to us all. Faith is our foundation. Then, he reminds us to build upon that faith with a set of virtues added to our lives. Each building upon the other.

“For this reason, add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love.“ (2 Peter 1:5-7)

Peter reminds the people of God that we should not pick and choose from among these seven virtues, but we should add them to the song of our lives. His phrase “add to your faith” speaks to gathering a chorus to sing all parts of a melody. The idea is that if all of these virtues are added to our lives, it will bring our lives into harmony with God and with each other.

Our spiritual journey begins with faith in Jesus. We enter into relationship with God through faith in him and his promises. As we grow toward spiritual maturity we add certain virtues or traits to our faith, each building upon the other. Peter first calls us to demonstrate goodness.

Goodness is an aspect of moral character. Excellent character. It is the idea of our faith being morally sincere and genuine in our relationship with others. It is to model Christ in the things we say and do.

Goodness, Peter says, leads to knowledge. Evil will pursue knowledge of ungodly things. In today’s world, we can easily clutter our minds with things that are not of God. Peter may have placed goodness before knowledge on his list for a reason. As we grow in the spirit, we are to fill our minds with the knowledge of God and his will and way. Paul shares a similar thought with the church in Philippi.

“Finally brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable…if anything is admirable or praiseworthy, think about these things.” (Philippians 4:8)

To be filled with knowledge is important, but it is not enough. Add to your goodness and knowledge of God, the self-control and discipline to practice what you know to be true. Self-control is what keeps us from misusing the knowledge we gain; from deciding we know better than God how our lives should be lived.

For a Christian, self-control ought to be best expressed as Spirit-controlled. Only when the Spirit rules our lives can we truly be self-controlled.

The fourth element in Peter’s list of virtues is perseverance. Peter speaks here about staying power…our ability to “hang in there” through our times of struggle or doubt. It is endurance and patience rolled into one.

Peter could see the coming persecution of the early church. He knew that a life lived in faith did not protect one from the struggles of life. His challenge was for God’s people to build upon their faith, using their goodness, their knowledge of God and his will and their self-discipline to outlast all that life would throw at them. It is no different today. Life in a sinful world will have its difficult times. Hang in there.

Paul adds his voice.

“Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have laid hold of it…” (Philippians 3:13a)

He knew he had not reached the pinnacle of spiritual maturity. He still had things to learn and things to do as we all do.

“…Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature (or my words, “trying to mature”) should embrace this point of view.” (Philippians 3:13b-14)

Press on. Persevere. Be patient.

To perseverance we are to add the virtue of godliness. There is an expression of deep sincerity in this word. We can’t fake godliness. People will see right through us if we try. The quality comes as we allow God to rule as the boss and Lord of our lives. It is living as the image of Christ so that all who look at us and our lives will see Christ in and through us.

Godliness is not a “holier than thou” kind of thing, it is a “get down in the ditch” kind of thing…like the Good Samaritan meeting the needs of the beaten down and abandoned. It’s seeing the hungry and feeding them. The naked and clothing them. The prisoners and visiting them. It is being Christ’s voice, ears, hands, and feet each and every day you live.

Part of the Christian distinctive is found in the way we treat each other within the body of Christ. Peter calls it “mutual affection.”

Jesus said it this way.

“…As I have loved you, you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35)

This ought to be a distinguishing characteristic of the church. That there is genuine affection and love among God’s people. A kind deed. A hug when it is needed. A welcoming word expressed upon entering God’s church. It is the fervent desire for a Christ-centered relationship with other believers in Christ. Yet, it is sometimes the one thing that drives people away from the church. The way we treat each other ought to be the thing that draws non-believers into the fellowship. Let us love one another.

Once we love one another in the church, we can begin to love the lost as much as God loves them. It is the seventh virtue on Peter’s list. God loved the world so much that he sent his son as a substitute for my sin and yours. Using that act of sacrifice to bridge the distance between God and man. To open the door for a personal, and eternal, relationship between the Creator and his creation.

The love of which Peter speaks is the cornerstone of our Christian faith. Our obligation doesn’t stop with the mutual affection for those who share our beliefs. Our obligation is to light a path to God by loving the world around us. You can’t do that when you judge. You can’t do that when you harbor resentment. You can’t do that when you look down upon others. You can only do that when you see others through God’s eyes and open your heart to love.

The list of seven virtues outlined by Peter build upon each other, layer upon layer, firmly grounded on the bedrock of our faith. They are marks of our spiritual growth and maturity. The apostle promises a benefit for our quest to be more Christ-like.

“For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord, Jesus Christ. But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed of their past sins…” (2 Peter 8-9)

I like the phrase “increasing measure.” It tells me that our desire for spiritual growth and maturity has no finish line. Even as we add a new layer to the person God called us to be, we can add richness and depth to the color of our lives. Doing so keeps us from becoming unfruitful, ineffective and unproductive to the kingdom of God.

Positively stated, Peter tells us to work on these virtues every day. To add that new layer of paint to the paper. In doing so, you can never go wrong. There will be no room in your life for bitterness, hatred, envy, or prejudice.

“For if you do these things, you will never stumble…” (2 Peter 1:10)

From the basic outline traced on a piece of paper and each successive layer of watercolor added, the portraits I paint begin to emerge. What I end up with is a reasonable likeness of my grandchildren.

God is a far more accomplished artist. If you let him, he will help you add layer upon layer of Christian virtue that will create in you a great masterpiece.

What Does the Lord Require?

Background Passages: Deuteronomy 10:12; Micah 6:8; Matthew 22:37-39

I find myself saddened and distraught by the events of the past week. The senseless death of George Floyd at the hands of a police officer who forgot what it means to “protect and serve” is unnerving on so many levels. The understandable protests demand desperately needed changes in our sense of justice for all people.

Of all the words spoken in the past week, this, it seems, is the core of my distress in these tumultuous times.

Every parent…every grandparent worries about the health and safety of their children and grandchildren. The worries never really end no matter how old those children or grandchildren might be. As a white man in American, one thing I’ve never really worried about is losing a son, daughter, grandson or granddaughter at the hands of a police officer. Never. It is, however, a burden too many of my African-American friends experience every day.

Positive change must come. Of that I’m certain. It must. However, the solutions are not easy. Nothing of magnitude ever is. The root causes run deep in a complicated and almost overwhelming flood of political, social, psychological, emotional and spiritual issues that won’t go away by burying our heads in the sand. Complicated and overwhelming as these issues may be, God’s world will never reflect his will for his people until we find the answers.

During the last 10 years of my professional life as superintendent in a public school system, I felt an enormous sense of responsibility. I taped on my desk in a spot visible only to me a card with one of my favorite Bible verses to remind me that every decision I made impacted a life somewhere. The card, from Micah 6:8 read,

“He has shown you, o mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Whether I was fully obedient to that challenge during my 10-year tenure is best left to God and to those I tried to serve, but I read that verse often as I struggled to make fair and equitable decisions.

In days like those in which we live today, I think this verse is a good starting point for all of us. It is the core passage of this study. It is a common theme of the Bible for a life lived by faith.

Freed from the oppression and slavery of the Egyptians, the Hebrew people followed Moses on a long march toward the promised land in Canaan. They experienced the parting of the Red Sea to escape an army intent on killing them. Water from a rock to quench their thirst. Manna from heaven to quell their hunger. A whirlwind to guide them by day and a fire to direct them by night. Miracles in the desert.

Despite all they had seen, despite all God had done for them, they grumbled. Then, on the threshold of the promised land, they blinked again, turning away from the one who brought them there.

Moses climbed the mountain to hear from God who provided for his people a code by which they could live. Ten commandments to govern their relationships with the Creator and with their fellow man. While he was gone, the Hebrew people took matters into their own hands and cobbled together enough gold to fashion an idol they could worship.

That act of rebellion led to another 40 years wandering and wondering in the wilderness.

At the end of that time, Moses again climbed the mountain to receive the word from God. God handed down the same commandments again. God’s will for all of us written on two stone tablets. Moses returned and stood before his people. He knew how hardhearted his people could be. He had seen them at their worst. Before reading to them the commandments of God, he tried to help them understand their responsibility under their covenant with the Father.

“And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to observe the Lord’s commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good.” (Deuteronomy 10:12)

We see those words for the first time. “…What does the Lord require of you?”

Hundreds of years later, the prophet Micah stood before the people of Israel who had once again charted their own course, living a life of rebellion and disobedience. They worship just about anything and anyone but God. Micah called upon them to repent. To turn back to God and their covenant with him. His instruction was clear and plain.

“…what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

The passages in Deuteronomy and Micah are remarkably similar. However, Bible scholars the English word “require” used in both passages are different words in the Hebrew language with different meanings. In Deuteronomy, the Hebrew word carries the idea of inquiring. It seems to say, “What does the Lord ask of you?” In Micah the word speaks to a mandate, a command. “What does the Lord demand of you.”

When I ask you for something, you have a choice. You can do what I ask or walk away. I look at the passage in Deuteronomy and I see God’s gift of free will at play. God asks that I fear him…hold him and his power in awestruck reverence, knowing that he is worthy of my praise.

God asks that I be obedient to his will. That I follow his lead throughout my life. To do what is right in his eyes, He asks that I love him and serve him with my total being. A complete commitment to his will and way that penetrates my heart and soul and guides my every action.

He asks those things of every one of us, but we have a choice to put our faith and trust in him or to walk away. He asks us to follow him, but he will never force us to do so. We have that free will choice.

The passage in Deuteronomy speaks to our relationship to God. It speaks to the internal change that occurs in our heart and soul when we open ourselves up to a relationship with God, the Father. We are to be transformed in heart and soul and deed.

Things change for us when we make that commitment. Once we place our faith and trust in him, God demands a certain standard of behavior toward others. This is not an option for a believer. If we call ourselves one of his children, he insists that our interactions with others reflect his character. He demands us to live a godly life. The word Micah speaks tells us how we are to embrace the world around us. It tells us how we are to act in relationship with one another regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, social level or life situation.

As a child of God we are required to act justly. In a general sense to be just is to be righteous. To do what is right in all things so that everything is as it should be…as God intended. To act justly then is to recognize our duty toward God with respect to our relationship to all others. That God calls us to “act justly” means we must see our fellow man as God sees him, according him the respect for his rights…his life, property and reputation.

I Peter 2:17 says we are to “honor all men.” In our relationship to others, we are to reflect the justice and righteousness of God. In every decision we make. In all that we do. We are to apply fairness and equality as the basis of our actions toward others.

It is not enough to talk about justice for all. It is not enough to call for the end of injustice. We can’t just give it lip service. God demands we act justly.

Similarly, it is not enough just to be merciful. To talk about mercy and forgiveness. We must love mercy. That’s taking our relationships to a whole, new level.

Mercy is the forgiveness and grace of God extended to us and then through us to those who have wronged us. Other passages in the Bible reinforce the thought.

“Be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ sake has forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)

“Forgive us our trespasses even as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (Matthew 6:12)

It is mercy, that Christian grace, that allows us to look at each other in love regardless of the circumstances between us. It is the recognition that each of us has been breathed to life by a God who loves us equally and without reservation. Mercy is an act of godly love expressed to all others through the words and deeds. Mercy is the compelling force of God’s love that enables us to act justly.

Finally, God demands that we walk humbly with God. To walk with God is to stay by his side throughout this life journey. To never stray from the path down which he is leading. To be obedient in all things.

To walk humbly recognizes our place. No one who encountered God in scripture walked away with an inflated sense of personal pride or power. All were humbled.

Moses took off his sandals and buried his face in the sand to avoid looking at the burning bush. Isaiah saw God and cried, “Woe is me!” Daniel had a vision of God and declared, “My beauty has turned to corruption.”

Humility is the Christian grace that makes one think of himself no more highly than he should. An attitude that does not allow one to consider himself better than another. We cannot simply declare ourselves humble. We must walk it. Live it. Be it. Sincerely and without guile.

It is the indwelling presence of the spirit of God that humbles us and gives us the servant heart and the loving eyes of Christ that made no distinction between Jew or Gentile, black or white, rich or poor. Humility is washing the feet of another. Feeding the hungry. Clothing the naked. Visiting the prisoner. Standing up for the oppressed. And it is essential to faithful discipleship.

Jesus sat with a questioning Pharisee who asked him to identify the greatest commandments. Jesus didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to analyze the pros and cons of each of God’s commands. His answer was immediate for these two governed all others.

“The most important,” Jesus answered, “is this one, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ And, the second is this, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Matthew 22:37-39)

The trauma of the past few days is real, especially for our African American friends who live it every day. Steps have been made over the years toward social justice, but it is an unfinished work. More must be done.

There are political and social answers to the issues that face our country. They are complex and difficult. Substantive changes in our country will not occur until we, as believers in Christ , comply with the demands of God to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with him.

The necessary changes will come only when we learn to love our neighbors as ourselves, regardless of their color.

It will not be easy because we are flawed people. The apostle Paul understood his nature and the nature of man.

“For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” Romans 7:18b-19

Paul also understood that despite his shortcomings he could not quit trying to live the life he knew God demanded of him. After 30 years in God’s service he wrote an encouraging word to the Philippian church. It is a word that resonates as I think of my responsibilities as a work in progress toward a more just world for all people.

“Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining for what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize to which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14

I press on to live a Christ-like, spirit-filled life. If enough of us do that, we change the face of justice in our country. Our desire to have our country be a place of social justice and equity is an unfinished and important work. We all have a role to play to make this the country God desires it to be.

Justice. Mercy. Humility. Let’s press on.

Seven Times Seventy

Background: Matthew 18:21-35, I Corinthians 13:5, Ephesians 4:31-32; Luke 6:27-28; Isaiah 43:25

The story may be apocryphal, which means regardless of how much I want it to be true, it probably isn’t. Still, no one wants to let a good story interfere with a great illustration of spiritual truth.

Renaissance man, Leonardo da Vinci painted The Last Supper as a fresco for the Dominican monastery Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan between 1495 and 1498. It depicts that intriguing moment during that last meal in the upper room when Jesus tells the disciples that one of them will betray him.

Da Vinci felt that “notions of the mind” could be seen in a man’s posture, mannerisms and expressions. Therefore, the expressions on each face of the disciples reveal da Vinci’s interpretation of how each disciple might have reacted based upon their personalities.

The story goes that at the time the artist painted The Last Supper, a bitter feud erupted between da Vinci and a fellow painter. Da Vinci despised the man.

When da Vinci painted the face of Judas Iscariot at the table with Jesus, he used the face of this enemy so that it would be present for ages as the man who betrayed Jesus.

As he worked on the faces of the other disciples, he tried time and time again to paint the face of Jesus, but nothing he depicted felt right.

Over time he realized that his hatred for the other painter kept him from finishing the face of Jesus. Da Vinci sought out and made peace with this fellow painter, erasing his features from the fresco and repainting the face of Judas. Only then was he able to paint the face of Jesus and complete his masterpiece.

Whether the story is true or false, it begs the question. Is our hatred for another, for what they have done to hurt us, keeping us from seeing clearly the face of Jesus? Are our ill feelings for another obstructing our relationship with Christ?

To their credit, the disciples who followed Jesus listened. They had difficulty at times understanding, but they heard what he said. They asked questions. They learned…sometimes the hard way.

In the days immediately following the transfiguration experience, Jesus continued teaching the disciples things they would need to know after his death and resurrection. Given the hostility he knew they would face when he was gone, Jesus spent a lot of time talking about forgiveness.

The Pharisees wrote it down, buried in the numerous laws they added to Jewish life. Their laws told them that one must extend forgiveness to another person three times. Beyond that, if the person offended you a fourth time, your personal grace obligation disappeared. You could simply wipe the dust off his sandals and cut that person out of your life. You had done your part.

At one point, Peter, in an effort to impress Jesus with his gracious spirit, asked and answered the question he was sure would bring him praise.

“Lord, how often should I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Peter’s thought seemed to be, “If I just double what the law requires and add one for good measure, I’ll be seen as magnanimous and gracious.”

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seven times seventy.”

Jesus’ thought seemed to be, “How can you not extend forgiveness to anyone who offends you no matter how many times they hurt you since God forgives your every sin?”

Thus began another great parable about kingdom living which taught that forgiveness ought to be a reflection of the mercy God extends to us each and every day.

The story Jesus tells Peter and the other disciples talks about the man who owed his master an enormous debt he could not repay. Touched by the man’s appeal for mercy, the master forgave the debt and sent him on his way.

Later, that forgiven man demanded payment from a poor man who could not repay his debt to him, though the amount he owed was small. Despite the poor man’s plea for mercy, the man to whom the debt was owed, the same man whom the master had forgiven so much, cast the poor man and his family in prison.

The message to the disciples was clear. The well of God’s forgiveness never runs dry for those who truly repent. He asks the same from us. Forgiveness ought to be a part of who we are…infinitely extended as a natural part of our relationship with a loving and merciful father.

Let’s talk about what that means. When someone hurts me, my first reaction is to check my contract with God to find a loophole, any loophole, that allows me to withhold my forgiveness. That’s kind of what Peter was asking. “Surely, there are things I don’t have to forgive. Surely, there is a limit.”

As humans, we can do some despicable things to one another, making the resentment we feel run deep. We might say the words of forgiveness. We might act the part. But we let the bitterness fester and burn. It takes time to process the hurt.

Forgiveness is too easy to say. Much harder to do. Bitterness keeps us from being able to forgive. It is a tap root that burrows deeply into the fertile soil of anger that we’ve trapped inside. We justify our bitterness with frightening ease. “Since I’ve been hurt, I have a right to feel this way. I have a right to retaliate. I have a right to push this person aside, unworthy of my grace and love.”

That beautiful passage in I Corinthians 13:5 tells us that “love keeps no record of wrongs.” Our experience tells us that bitterness keeps a ledger and conceals it in a combination safe behind the haloed painting of Jesus hanging on our wall in our bedroom. We just don’t want to give up our anger.

While the world might agree with us that the hurt we’ve endured entitles us to a certain amount of anger, rage, resentment, and bitterness, we know in our hearts that the longer we harbor resentment, the more it hurts us.

This is not the way of Christ. Love and forgiveness are the only ways to get rid of bitterness that has taken root in our hearts. If we are to live as Christ lived, forgiveness must be our way as well. Paul laid it out there for the church at Ephesus.

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Ephesians 4:31-32

Only God’s power and the work of his spirit within us can bring us to a place of being ready and willing to forgive.

Jesus was skilled at forgiveness…It was a God thing. Second nature. A part of who he was. Hanging from a brutal cross and bearing our sins, he cried, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.”

I always thought this prayer was for the Jews who convicted him and the soldiers to crucified him. I’m convinced now that it was his appeal on my behalf…for my future sins. His willingness to forgive my sins from the cross compels me to forgive others.

So how do we get rid of the bitterness that stands as an obstacle that keeps us from forgiving those who hurt us?

Jesus told his disciples, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Luke 6:27-28

There it is — love and pray for your enemies! Love them as God loves them. Pray for those who persecute you. Hurt you. Disrespect you. Disagree with you. Irritate you. Offend you.

Here’s what I’ve learned through the years. My prayers for others may or may not change them, but they always change me…which may be the whole point of prayer in the first place.

There’s one more thing. Several passages in the Bible indicate that God forgives and forgets our sins.

“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” Isaiah 43:25

God’s “not remembering” is not what we usually think of as forgetting. God is omniscient. He knows everything. He forgets nothing. “Not remembering” is the equivalent of not acting upon them. He chooses to overlook our sin because the price of that sin has already been paid.

You see, forgiveness is a choice. We may never actually forget the action. We can, through the grace of God, choose to put the painful memories aside. To choose to overlook it. Forgiving as God forgives keeps us from dwelling on the past.

I’ve erased my painting of Judas so many times the plaster is worn out. I don’t know who’s face you’re painting on your forgiveness fresco. I do know that you’ll never clearly see the face of Jesus until you set the bitterness aside and forgive the one who hurt you.

“Seven times seventy.”