Kirk Lewis

Slowing Things Down

Background Passage: Psalm 46:10

There never seems to be enough hours in the day to do all that needs to be done. It is a common lament, particularly in our culture and society. Sadly, we are often our own worst enemy when it comes to making the most of our time each day. We pile one responsibility onto another until we feel as though we are in a frenetic footrace to the sundown.

Nothing we do gets done without the pressure of the next thing that must be done. We seldom have time to slow down to assess what we are doing and why we are doing it. The pervasive god of technology drives us at a frantic pace beyond our escape or control, fueled by our addiction to wave upon wave of contradictory information. The flood of information makes it difficult to discern fact from opinion.

Even when we want to get away, to take back some of the time we have surrendered, we cannot fully disconnect from the world we left behind. Cellphones, internet, global connectivity, make it far too easy for the world to inject itself again into our seclusion.

Pressed from all sides and pounded daily by those trying to tell us how to feel, we lose the opportunity to think clearly and critically about the direction of our lives. The complexity of our activities, relationships and commitments result in knee-jerk reactions to difficult circumstances. Writer Arthur Rosenfeld said we are living a life “high in stress and light on substance,” devoid of spiritual meaning.

The Psalmist faced his own battles with time and circumstance. When the obstacle he faced loomed on the horizon, he reminded himself that there is value in slowing down enough to listen to the voice of God, to hear his words of comfort and feel his sense of peace.

“Be still and know that I am God. “

The words came not as a suggestion, but an imperative. If you want the peace God offers, be still. Amid the chaos and confusion, be still. Amid the tumult and turmoil, be still.

Stop fighting. Let go. Surrender to the possibilities of what God has in store for us. The pace of life that tends to overwhelm us is often self-inflicted noise that overpowers God’s still, small voice of guidance and direction. We fight to control our lives, for some ability to manipulate the world swirling around us. Like being mired in quicksand, our struggle only makes it worse. Be still. Silence the chatter in our souls. Clear our hearts of every distraction. Sit still for once and listen. Really listen.

Know that He is God. The omniscient. The omnipotent. The omnipresent. God knows about everything. Extends his power over everything. Dwells with us in everything. God is…Holy. Sovereign. Faithful. Lord. He knows where we’ve been, where we’re going and what we are trying to do. He knows when we are lost. He understands our fear. He lives with us in the middle of the struggle and will not abandon us along the way.

The psalmist reminds us to surrender our will to God’s will because we can trust who he is and what he is capable of doing in our lives. Knowing he is God allows us to make sense of the clutter and slow the frenzied pace of life that threatens to engulf us.

There never seems to be enough time to do all that needs to be done. I spoke those words myself this week. This I know. If we allow it to do so, modern life will move faster than the speed of thoughtfulness, sweeping us downstream with it. The words of the Father fell upon listening ears today.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Now, I just have to do it.

In Search of Contentment

Background Passage: Philippians 4:4-13

We live in a world of simmering discontent fueled by politicians and talk show hosts and fanned by the extremist opinions expressed in an all-too pervasive social media. Many among us look at our life circumstances… longing for a past veiled in a mist of greatness that never was as great as we remember. Angry about a present that seems stuck in a downward spiral. Jaded about a future we anticipate with overwhelming pessimism.

We pursue what we think will bring happiness only to discover emptiness. We buy more things…incur more debt…only to suffering the anxiety of paying for it all. We move from place to place…seeking a better house, better neighborhood, better schools…rarely staying in one place long enough to develop cherished friendships. When we let circumstances define us, when life unfolds as a series of unfulfilled dreams based on unrealistic expectations, contentment remains elusive.

Such a world view is distinctly anti-Christian. That’s not to say there aren’t some real problems we must address. It is saying, however, that as Christians, our world view needs to reflect a different attitude.
Contentment, as the world defines it, finds its root in a Greek word meaning “self-sufficient” or “independence.” It is derived from an ancient Stoic philosophy that calls one to detach oneself from ones emotions, to become indifferent to the ups and downs of life.

Contentment is not complacency. We should work to better ourselves and our circumstances as God grants us the opportunity to do so. God praises hard work that is not driven by greed and selfishness. We can prepare ourselves through education and training and work to better our circumstances as long as we are submissive to God’s will. Contentment is not settling for less. It is submitting your circumstances to God and trusting in his sufficiency.

The preacher languished in a foreign prison on trumped up charges. Punished and persecuted for sharing his faith that ran counter to the government-sanctioned philosophy and religion. Far from home. Isolated from most of his friends. Facing an almost certain death sentence.

The missionary could have shaken his fist at God, angry at the situation in which he found himself, wallowing in discontent and feeling abandoned by God and friends. Yet, the preacher continued to share the gospel of Christ to the prison guards, fellow prisoners and those he could reach by letter. In the darkness of his imprisonment, he received an unexpected gift from church friends trying to relieve the burden of his circumstances.

While he certainly appreciated the support during a difficult time, the Apostle Paul used the gift as an opportunity to teach the church at Philippi about his victory over discontent.

Paul took the definition of contentment in a different direction. For the apostle, contentment was the peace one finds when living within the will and strength of God. He said, “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”

Reading the letter today you can imagine the people holding their breath waiting for Paul to reveal the answer. The secret of contentment, Paul said, is knowing…“that I can do all things through him that gives me strength.”

That seems to me to be the key. Our ability to do anything, to overcome everything life throws our way, is predicated on our understanding that God is sufficient in all things; that within his strength, all things are possible. Contentment is that inner sense of peace that stems from our personal relationship with the Father and dependent upon our willingness to embrace his lordship. To yield control of our lives to him.

Easy words to write, but difficult to do…unless we live a focused and purposeful life. Look at Philippians 4:8-9.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”

It’s a simple formula and I’m content with that.

Do Not Lose Heart

Background Passage: Hebrews 12:1-3

Has there ever been a time in history when the world watched as closely the actions and reactions of Christians to world events? Certainly, the new, polarized media and the prevalence of social media contribute to the intense scrutiny of the verbal and living testimony shared with those we encounter. The intolerance directed at Christians who stand for their faith is counterbalanced at times with our own intolerant and unloving attacks on those who oppose our views.

The mistakes we make in our relationship with the world casts a dark shadow over those who attempt to live right and well. Like Sisyphus continually pushing the boulder up the hill only to lose his grip and let it roll back to the valley, one trying to build a bridge to those in need of Christ’s love, can easily grow so tired of the effort that giving up feels like a sensible option. In a world that fails to listen to the call of God, it is easy to grow discouraged.

The writer of Hebrews speaks a word for the weary that theologian William Barclay called “one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament.” The unknown author of Hebrews calls upon us to remember the heroes of our faith, to recall the difficult circumstances they encountered and the faith that sustained them. So the first clear message of this passage is that we are surrounded by those men and women who stood firm in faith despite setbacks and hardship. This “cloud of witnesses” ought to inspire us with their life testimony to persevere in our own effort to live as Christ commands.

With the memory of those bastions of faith behind us, we are urged to toss away every hindrance to running the race along the “course that is marked out before us.” The will of God for our lives. The path he desires us to walk. We are neither an unconcerned bystander, nor spectator, nor tourist along for the ride. We are called to run the race that God set out for us to run…regardless of where it takes us, how long or rugged the path. God has set the goal before us. Our task is to rid ourselves of the beastly burdens and bad attitudes that make the race feel impossible. To run with dogged dedication the gauntlet of a life lived for Christ.

The task is easier said than done when it feels as though the whole world is rooting against us. We feel the sting of ridicule from an unbelieving world each time we fail to live up to God’s standards, making it more difficult to accept his forgiveness and start anew. We feel the pressure of other believers who wrap themselves so tightly in the cloak of politics that faith becomes a social movement rather than a matter of the heart.

How then does the writer of Hebrews suggest we stay steadfast on the course God laid out before us? Simply this: “Fix your eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” In a moment of personal insanity many years ago, I once ran a half-marathon. I am not physically built to run a half-marathon. With no hope of winning, all I wanted to do is finish sometime before supper. In the last quarter of the race, my breath grew labored. My legs tired. My head telling me to stop the madness. Instead, I ran five miles staring at a runner about 100 yards in front of me. I told myself “If I lose sight of him, I’ll quit.“ Keeping my eyes focused on that man and with the help and encouragement of a friend over the last mile, I managed to finish what I started. We invariably quit the course laid out for us when we lose sight of Jesus. This we cannot do.

Hebrews tells us to think of all that Christ endured…the difficult journey, the constant opposition, the unhearing hearts, the agony of the cross…for despite the suffering, he endured it all because he could anticipate the joy that his gift of salvation would bring to the world. What God started in our lives, intending it all for good, must not be cast aside when the going gets tough. Think instead of the joy we will know when the task is done.

It is a strange world in which we find ourselves today, filled with frustration and heart break. You may feel, as I do at times, that you are not making a difference…that for every one step forward, the world pushes you two steps back. Know that it is not so. Acts of faith never return unrewarded.

At the end of the day, we must fix our eyes on Jesus and consider his enduring faith so that we “will not grow weary and lose heart.” Barclay called it one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament. I call it a message I needed to hear.

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

Background Passages: Matthew 10:29-31; Matthew 6:26-27, 34; Philippians 4:6-7

In an age of contemporary worship music, there must remain a place in worship for the old hymns of faith. The messages of these songs, which stand the test of time and testimony, resonate within the depths of life’s most trying circumstances, grounded us again in the rich history of faith.

In the midst of trying times in our country and difficult days in the life of my family, I found myself thinking this week of one of those old standards, His Eye Is On The Sparrow.

The words to the song, penned in 1905 by Civilla Martin, became one of the most influential gospel hymns of the 20th century. The words were based on the inescapable optimism and faith of a woman known only as Mrs. Doolittle of Elmira, NY. The elderly woman, bedridden for more than 20 years, lived with her permanently disabled husband. Her husband continued to work each day despite having to propel himself to work each day in a wheelchair. During the initial encounter, an abiding friendship developed between the two families.

As they visited one day, Martin asked Mrs. Doolittle the secret of their happiness and hopefulness. As she beamed from her bed, Mrs. Doolittle responded, “His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.” The enduring and endearing faith inspired Martin to write the cherished hymn.

The song still touches God’s people, helping us find solace despite sorrow. Allow us to be lifted by steady conviction that God’s eye never wanders from us or our plight. The marrow of the song comes from a moment of reassurance found in Matthew as Jesus offered comfort to his disciples as he sent them in pairs into the countryside to share the gospel of Christ.

To ease their anxious hearts, he said, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet, not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the hairs on your head are numbered. So, don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Matt. 10:29-31)

Another time, Jesus encouraged his disciples to set aside their fears about the future. “Look to the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? …Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. ..” (Matt. 6:26-27, 34)

These verses serve to remind me that worry is an enemy of faith; that we must lay the concerns of this world and this time at his feet. The words of reassurance never promise an end to the bad times, but they do promise that we will not walk alone. For despite the turmoil in the world and in our lives, we God’s eye is upon us always.

That promise alone moves us from peril to peace. As Paul wrote to the church in Philippi, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:6-7)

So the words of the old hymn linger in my thoughts…

Why should I feel discouraged?
Why should the shadows come?
Why should my heart be lonely,
and long for heaven and home?

When Jesus is my portion,
my constant friend is he.
His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

I sing because I’m happy.
I sing because I’m free.
His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

Amen, and again, amen.

The Pit and the Promise

Background Passages: Genesis 37:12-28; 50:20; Isaiah 43:2

How does one rebound from betrayal?

How does one refocus after a dreaded diagnosis?

How does one recover from the loss of a loved one?

In one form or another, I heard those questions asked by three different people…friends and former colleagues…each in their own way trying to put one foot in front of the other in the aftermath of broken hearts, horrible news and sudden death.

Words fall short sometimes. Sympathy and comfort offer little more than a brief respite. At the end of the day, I go on with my life, but my friends face the difficult task of reconciling each today with a new reality. As one of them told me, “It’s the pits.”

I think of them often and watch their faith sustain them during difficult days. I am reminded of another young man in the Bible who experienced “the pits” both literally and figuratively.

A teenage boy.
Distressed.
Desperate.
Filled with
Dread.

Struggled to suppress the panic
settling around him as thick as the desert dust.
Breath ragged and labored.
Strangled by terror and exhaustion.

He sat against the rough-hewn wall,
knees tucked to his chin,
Scratched.
Scraped.
Bleeding from failed efforts to
climb the rocky walls of the cistern
in which his brothers left him to die.

Joseph.
Yelled again and again.
Begged for rescue.
Throat dry.
Caked with dust.
His hoarse and anguished voice
falling on deaf ears and
hardened hearts.

Betrayed by brothers.
Abandoned by those he loved.
Left to die then
sold to slavery in a distant land.

Joseph found his life
tortured and twisted
beyond reason.
His day gone horribly wrong in an
unexpected, unplanned
turn of events.

It’s a familiar story. One most of us heard as children. The story resonates because somehow we can all relate to waking up one morning with expectations of another wonderful day only to have our world shatter into a million pieces in the blink of an eye.

The innocent part of me wants my people of faith, like Joseph, to stand strong in the face of adversity. To sit patiently in the pit, knowing without doubt that God would miraculously send a caravan of traders to whisk him to Egypt where he knew with certainty he would find favor with Pharaoh and settle into a royal life of luxury.

Despite the dreams of personal power and prestige that David often lorded over his brothers, I suspect he was scared to death while he languished in the pit, overwhelmed by all that happened. His brothers later acknowledged his distress; that Joseph “pleaded with us for his life.” (Gen. 42:21) When, he was dragged from the well and sold to the traders, how could he not dread the turn that life had taken.

Yet, Joseph did what each of us must do when scarred by circumstance and scared by what the future holds. He put one foot in front of the other and lived another day, clinging to a promise of God’s presence, hanging on to faith and allowing God to work in His way and His time. Through his life in Egypt, Joseph’s fortunes rose and fell, landing from time to time again in the pit. Scripture tells us more than once that, “the Lord was with Joseph” in Egypt.

That simple phrase holds the lesson of first life in the pits. The Lord is with us. Others may betray us. God never will. We may face the devastation of incurable disease or the death of one we love, but the Lord will never abandon us to grapple with uncertainty on our own. He is with us…always. We draw strength from his presence.

The second lesson of the pits comes as the story unfolds. Famine hits and Jacob’s family must buy grain from Pharaoh. The elder brothers unknowingly come face to face with Joseph at the storehouse door. Imagine the feelings that washed over Joseph when he saw his brothers for the first time since they brutalized and betrayed him. Thoughts of vindication and payback surely crossed his mind.

I wonder if Joseph could ever foresee repairing the fractured relationship with his brothers when he sat so desolate in the bottom of the pit. When he walked in chains with the traders. When he served an Egyptian master or suffered in an Egyptian dungeon.

We see Joseph near the end of his story, recognizing that God made the most of a bad situation to save Joseph’s family and his people. He told his brothers, “What you intended for harm, God intended for good.” You see, somewhere in the unfolding of time God repaired Joseph’s broken and troubled heart. Allowed him to reconcile his life to his new reality.

Rebounding is never quick. Refocusing never easy. Recovery never without its bumps. Trusting his presence in our lives, we hold on to the truth that what others intend for harm or when life deals us a wicked turn, God will work for good.

What comfort might that provide to my friends who must rebound, refocus and recover from the trials and difficulties they continue to face? I find encouragement for them, and all who are struggling, in this story of an abandoned teenager who found himself in the pits. “The Lord was with Joseph” and he is with you and…he will work to bring good out of any situation.

It is a message echoed by Isaiah 43:2…

“When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned.”

Bless the Teacher Who Blesses the Child

Background Passage: Mark 10:13-16

It is to me one of the most endearing passages of scripture recorded about Jesus. God’s son journeys from Galilee toward Jerusalem in his final days on earth, bearing the burden of the cross and all it means both physically and spiritually. The cross and all its meaning rests as a dark shadow in his heart and mind. Nevertheless, as he goes, he teaches any who would listen about the kingdom of God and the faith required to experience its grace.

On this day, he sits in the courtyard of a home, speaking to a group of Pharisees who relentlessly question him, hoping he might somehow incriminate himself. The area is jam packed with people listening to the developing debate on divorce.

As the conversation intensified, a group of parents walked up to the house carrying babies and walking hand in hand with toddlers. More than anything in the world, these parents wanted Jesus to bless their children. These were parents who recognized the strength and power of his preaching and teaching. Parents who cared for the future of their little ones. Parents who wanted their children to know God and to be blessed by God.

Yet, they were blocked from entering, not by the Pharisees, but by Jesus’ own disciples. Rebuked in a forceful and misguided way for wasting the time of the teacher on such trivial matters. Children in the first century, you see, were deemed insignificant in spiritual matters. Conventional religious teaching centered on the need to earn your way into God’s grace by the things you did or did not do. The philosophy ran counter to what Jesus taught.

Jesus heard the commotion, recognized what was happening and became indignant and irritated with his disciples. He called to the parents, waving them inside with a cheerful voice and a welcoming smile.

Ignoring the crowd of onlookers and Pharisees, Jesus spent precious moments with each baby and child. Cradled the littlest of them lovingly to his chest, peeking through the swaddling clothes, letting them grasp his calloused fingers. He wrapped the toddlers in his arms, hugging them tightly. Tickled them. Made them giggle with silly faces. Then, with each child, he drew the parents into a small circle, prayed quietly and purposely for the cherished ones among them. Offering God’s protection and blessing upon their lives. Praying that they one day would come to understand in a personal way what it means to be a child of God.

As the parents left, he used this “interruption” to explain to the disciples and Pharisees that the key to God’s kingdom required childlike faith, not legalistic adherence to rules and law. It is a valuable lesson to all who would believe.

I find another truth in this familiar, but lightly regarded passage. This story popped into my mind about this time every year for the past 30 years. Despite my recent retirement from public school work, I thought again of this passage with the start of this new school year.

Without delving into separation of church and state issues or the frequent plea for a return of prayer into our schools, I believe no law has ever or will ever remove God from our public school systems. There are simply too many Christian educators calling upon God’s presence in their lives as they work with our children and young people. I know how much they care, how much they love, how much they do beyond teaching to meet the needs of children.

I watched for three decades as dedicated public school teachers, counselors, principals, and support staff, each committed to a personal faith in Christ, became the voice, the hands, the heart of Christ for the children and young people they encountered during the day. I know these amazing people prayed intently in the moment for those who were struggling in the classroom or hurting in their personal lives.

During the course of a day, they are heard as the voice of instruction to those who must be taught. A voice of encouragement to those who need strengthening. A voice of discipline to those who need correction. A voice of counsel to those who need guidance. A voice of praise to those who succeed.

They offer a hand to those who must be lifted up. A shoulder to those who need comfort. They offer their heart to those who need to be loved.

If you take the time to visit with them, they will tell you they look upon their work in public schools as God’s calling in their lives…their place of ministry and service in his kingdom. By living their faith each day they proclaim Christ’s love and blessing upon the children through the relationships they build with them.

In quiet and hectic times, Christian educators and Christian students pray. As a result, lives are blessed and changed. Lives are won to Christ through the daily witness of these amazing educators.

These Christian educators pray for Godly wisdom and discernment as they teach and interact with their students. They pray for our children and grandchildren as they learn and as they grow and mature into the people God wants them to be.

So, in turn, please pray each day for Christian men and women in our schools…whether they are public, private and home school teachers. Pray for strength, energy, compassion, insight and opportunity to bless the lives of the children and young people they encounter during the year.

Just as Jesus paused from his teaching to bless the children, pray for our Christian educators to find time to do the same with the students they teach.

“Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”

Author’s note: If the message speaks to you, share it with a friend who teaches. They will be encouraged to know you are praying for them.

A Tribute to Kingdom Builders

Background Passages: Matthew 20:26; Matthew 25:14-30

I belong to a church that began its ministry in 1954. Since its doors opened, South Main Baptist Church, Pasadena, TX, two pastors have served the congregation. The late Dr. B.J. Martin pastored the church for 27 years before giving way to Dr. Ron Lyles in 1981. In a few days, Dr. Lyles celebrates his 35th anniversary with our church. Six decades. Two pastors.

This stability of pastoral leadership is certainly not a record for service at the same church. Other pastors served their congregations for longer periods. Yet, I think it says something about these two men of God.

What is the measure of a great pastor?

People look at a number of metrics to determine the vitality of pastoral ministry. We are, after all, a performance-driven culture. Some might look at church membership, Sunday School attendance, outreach totals, the number of baptisms, or the amount of congregational giving. Those should be important inputs. They are not, however, the important impacts.

Rick Warren, the pastor of Saddleback Church in southern California, said you measure the impact of a pastor, not on metrics as those above, but on his ability to be a “kingdom builder.”

A kingdom builder, according to Warren, is someone who…

lives for his great purpose,
lives by great principles,
lives on great power and
lives with great people.

Warren says our purpose for living as Christians is two-fold. First, our purpose is to spread the gospel of Christ to a lost world, bringing others into a saving relationship with God. Great pastors internalize that purpose and lead a church in a mission-minded focus, not just within the walls of the home church, but by establishing and supporting mission work at home and abroad.

Secondly, that great purpose calls us to move beyond evangelism to make disciples of those who place their trust in Christ. Making a commitment to Christ is a simple matter of faith. Living the purpose-driven life he requires daily is difficult unless someone teaches us how to live and relate to the world as God’s people.

In B.J. and Ron, I found men with equal zeal and commitment for spreading the gospel of Christ and for growing those wish to walk with the Father. Their passion proved in what they proclaimed from the pulpit and what they practiced as the daily pattern of life. The ministries they established in our church and our community shared the love of Christ in word and deed, touching not just the soul, but also meeting the physical, social and emotional needs of life.

Great pastors draw strength and wisdom from the foundational principles set forth by God in his scripture, according to Warren. A great pastor lives by these principles, letting them guide his every word and action. Both of my pastors made deep theological study an essential part of their preparation for ministry. You sensed their fidelity to scripture when they preached and taught. Yet, they made sure they grounded their heavenly theology with an earthly purpose…always rooted in the practical matters of life.

These gifts of teaching and preaching would have made limited impact if they are not wrapped in a cloak of love. For 35 years, Ron has lead our church to make to promises to all who join our congregation…to love them and let them love us in return. It is not a trite slogan, but a real promise of congregational fellowship designed to ensure that we care of each other in every way.

Warren said the power by which a pastor moves and serves rests in the presence of God’s spirit in his life. It is this Spirit who provides the discernment needed to guide, lead and counsel a congregation. Both men who have served as my pastor allowed the Holy Spirit to speak and work through them. Their ability to understand the needs of our congregation testified to the way the Spirit moved in their lives. They spoke the right word at just the right time. Provided new ministry outreach to fill a void. Comforted the hurting when they needed it most. It seemed God always put them exactly where they needed to be with the right word and touch.

Finally, Warren believes a pastor is a kingdom builder and a great pastor when he worships beside and with his people, holding himself and others accountability for the work of God in the church and in the community. He provides spiritual encouragement, building up the body to face a world that more often than not turns its back on God.

I have been encouraged by the studied approach taken by my pastors over the years as we dealt with contemporary social issues. Our church, under the leadership of our pastors, always tackled thorny issues of the day, but it was done after much prayer and acted upon with thought, compassion and grace.

Powerful sermons delivered in the past by both men resonated as a gospel of conviction and not the gospel of convenience often proclaimed from other pulpits. God’s people need to hear spiritual truth that makes us squirm a little in our pews. Both men spoke the Word of God with such passion that it dared their listeners to pick up the cross and carry it further down the road toward Christian maturity. I have been challenged, confronted, forgiven and encouraged. I have been allowed to serve and find my place of service both in my church and my community. I have been given opportunities to participate in mission outreach activities at home and abroad, allowing God to use me in whatever way he sees fit.

Yes. Without a doubt. My pastors, Dr. B. J. Martin and Dr. Ron Lyles were and are kingdom builders. Physically, they could not be more different. Spiritually, they could not be more alike. Both could preach. Both could teach. Both could take God’s word and translate it into a practical pattern for living in ways that even I could understand.

What is the measure of a great pastor?

If your measure is kingdom building, toss out the statistics and look to the heart. I can point you to two men made a difference in my life. Two men who encouraged me and countless others to think and live as kingdom builders.

My kingdom builders.

My pastors.

My friends.

“Well done, good and faithful servants. You have been faithful in a few things. I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.” Matthew 25:21

Wonderfully Made…For a Purpose

Background Passage: Psalm 139

The brightest minds in Greek and Roman worlds for centuries before and after the time of Christ believed human wisdom, emotion, memory and thought centered in the heart, not the brain. Ancient ideas of physiology and psychology told them that God spoke through the heart; that within the heart lived the essence of man’s soul. They believed the brain was an internal radiator that simply cooled the blood as it circulated through the body.

Influenced by these cultures, the ancient Hebrews understood that the core of who and what they were was centered in the heart. In other words, like the ancient Greeks, they believed the heart was the focus of all rational thought and emotion. So unimportant was the brain in Hebrew thinking that the word is never recorded in scripture…not once.

Scientifically, we know the ancients were wrong. We continue to learn more about the brain as the depth of scientific research grows into the complex role it plays in our how we think, feel and learn. Though we know better, we still speak of “feeling” and “thinking” with our hearts, a metaphorical echo of scientific error relegated to the pages of history.

The human brain functions as one of God’s most marvelous creations, yet only in the past 150 years have scientists and physicians made serious efforts to understand how it works. In 1861, French physician Pierre Paul Broca discovered that small region of the left frontal lobe of the brain controls our ability to speak. In subsequent studies since that time, scientists have identified 83 specific areas of the brain that activate when we recognize a face, read a book, think about a specific memory or do certain types of physical work.

Neuroscientists at the University of Washington recently published a new map of the brain, revealing more than 97 previously unknown regions of the brain to add to the 83 areas already familiar to today’s scientists.

A Stanford University study recently used a new imaging technique called array tomography to look more closely at the brain’s neurons and synapses. The data collected produced a three-dimensional picture of these tiny cell connections. The images indicate that the number of synapses in the brain exceed the number of estimated stars in 1,500 Milky Way galaxies combined, making the brain far more complex that previously understood.

These new discoveries caused a few of my own synapses to make a few new connections. I thought of Psalms 139. The Psalmist, in his praise of God, wrote beautiful lyrics about his creative work.

“For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.”

We are God’s creation. Whether we developed through an evolutionary process or appeared in a molding of clay and bone is really immaterial to me. Neither view changes my understanding of God as Creator. To focus on that debate misses the point of my personal relationship to him. That he gave me this marvelous brain that thinks, acts, reasons, chooses, understands and loves is an amazing gift that governs my relationships to my God and to others. That he gave me the ability to grasp the concept of faith in him is grace in full measure.

That thought led to another. My son and his wife, Melissa, are expecting their second child in December. They have named her Amelia Diane. We saw another ultrasound of her yesterday. Even now as her body is developing inside the womb, God knows her and all she will become. The Psalmist explored that idea, also.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.”

I think of these things not to get into a debate on abortion and the definition of when life starts. Rather, I stand amazed that God already knows my granddaughter. That a God-ordained, perfect plan already exists for her life. That the only things standing in the way of that life are the choices she makes and the positive influence brought to bear through the unconditional love of her Christian parents and all of those who enter her life.

Her intricate and incomparable brain will be imprinted with her God-given uniqueness etched throughout its gray matter. The life he plans for her will unfold as it is imparted by her parents, instructed by gifted teachers at church and at school, and inspired by the love of family and friends that desire only the best for her.

One final thought occurred to me as I read again this familiar scripture. Intellectually, I know our brains, not our hearts, make us who we are. Yet, we must continue to lean upon the understanding of the ancients, like the Psalmist, to express our desire to be all that God wants us to be.

He planted a seed in all of us that longs for a Father. As we allow that seed to grow, God guides our lives through every trial, test and temptation. The seed, that free-will choice of heart and head–creates purpose. We uncover our purpose in God when we honestly seek him and genuinely desire to walk the path he sets out for us. As the Psalmist sang,

“Search me, God and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me.
Lead me in the way everlasting.”

You Matter to God; You Matter to Me

Background Passages: Genesis 1:26-27; Galatians 3:8; Mark 12:26-27

The Broadway musical Waitress tells a story about a young woman whose life turns out vastly different than she imagined it would. When life leaves her struggling as a waitress in a small diner, eking out a day to day existence with little to show for her effort, she feels invisible and unworthy of love and respect. She encounters a man who takes notice of her, sees her for who she really is. He spends time trying to convince her that she, and her life, are important.

Sara Bareilles, a talented singer and songwriter, penned the lyrics to You Matter to Me. The song speaks poignantly to the need in all of us to matter to someone. She wrote,

“I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes.
They’ve seen things that you never quite say, but I hear.
Come out of hiding I’m right here beside you.
And I’ll stay there as long as you let me.

“Because you matter to me.
Simple and plain, and not much to ask from somebody.
You matter to me.
I promise you do, you, you matter, too.
I promise you do, you see?
You matter to me.”

In explaining the lyrics to the song, Bareilles said, “It was something so simple that I think is at the heart of what we really look for when we want someone who really sees us. It’s just a feeling that what you do and who you are matters to someone.”

I’ve listened a great deal to that song in the past two weeks. Within the lyrics lies an answer, I think, to the many issues that tend to divide us today, including “Black Lives Matter.” “Police Lives Matter.” These are such sensitive issues and I’ll probably fumble through it. Please bear with me as I try to express my thoughts.

First, it matters to me that an African American man or woman is shot and killed by a police officer, whether that act was willful and deliberate, a terrible misunderstanding or an absolute accident. Black lives matter. Secondly, it matters that an individual, acting in unmitigated anger, willfully and deliberately targets and kills any police officer. Police lives matter.

The personal and national tragedies occurring across our country today sadden me. The division among us which these tragedies create saddens me. That the tragedies get exploited by individuals, media and groups with political agendas, saddens me. The social wedge it drives between us creates a deep, personal and public fracture that will take time and selfless understanding to heal.

I believe fundamentally that your life, regardless of who you are or what you do, matters. First and foremost, you matter to God. Genesis declares that people…all of us…are made in the “image of God.”

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Gen. 1:26-27.

Every human being, regardless of race, ethnicity, background or profession, in some way mirrors God…something of God can be seen and felt in each of us. As a result of our created connection to God, all people are important to God. All people matter to God.

There ought to be a God-inspired corollary to that truth, especially to those who call ourselves Christian. Because God matters to me–as His child, His creation–you also matter to me. Neither race, nor ethnicity, nor social status, nor profession, ought to change that belief.

Paul tells us in Galatians 3:8, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

The apostle need not spell out every category of human being for us to understand that in the eyes of our Father in heaven we stand the same. In every way that matters to Him and to us, we stand the same.

I was taught never to judge another unless I had walked in their shoes. My actions and the actions of others, are typically predicated on our personal experiences. How I respond to situations depends on what I have experienced, seen, heard and perceived…circumstances that impact my life. I cannot, therefore, fully understand the real and perceived discrimination African Americans feel. I have never walked in their shoes.

Nor can I fully understand the anxiety and trepidation a police officer must feel every time he or she answers a radio call for a domestic disturbance, a break-in, traffic stop or at any social protest. I have never walked in their shoes.

The plain and simple truth is we don’t need to walk in another’s shoes to sense their anguish over life circumstances. We just need to act on our faith principles and react in the love of Christ to each and every person we encounter.

Consider this. Jesus had been involved in one of those intense debates with the Jewish leadership who questioned so many of his teachings. Near the end, one of the teachers of the law came to Jesus and asked, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” Our Savior responded with a clear message about our relationship to God and to one another.

“The most important one is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12: 28-31

We have an abundance of issues that would divide us today…gay and transgender rights, immigration, terrorism, “Black Lives Matter,” “Police Lives Matter.” “All Lives Matter.” All I know is that my political and social perspectives…all aspects of my life…must match my faith perspective.

Those groups and individuals at the center of every one of these issues matter to God. Therefore, they and their feelings must matter to me. I matter to God. Therefore, I and my feelings, must matter to you. Until we start listening with intent to love as God loves, we will never find the common ground we need. We will never truly matter to each other.

You matter to God. You matter to me. As Bareilles says, “It’s not much to ask from somebody.”

The Gilded Cathedral

Background Passages: Matthew 23:25-28; James 2:14-18

My wife and spent the last two weeks celebrating our 40th anniversary on a Baltic Sea cruise. We started with a side trip to Spain before boarding a ship in London for Norway, Denmark, Estonia, Russia, Finland and Belgium. As with most of these European vacations, every stop featured palaces, castles and cathedrals.

I stood before each church and cathedral awestruck by the size and scope of the construction, thinking about how the architects of old created inspiring buildings worthy of God’s presence. Today, these massive facades still rise high above the surrounding neighborhoods, dominating city skylines with ornate spires and mammoth domes that reach toward heaven. Intricate carvings covering the face of each cathedral serve as silent and lasting testimony to the skill of the collection of artisans who spent centuries, in some cases, creating these magnificent houses of worship.

As I stepped inside and allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within, I marveled at the invaluable artwork that filled each sanctuary, drawing my attention always forward toward the marbled and gilded altars. I find it difficult to wrap my arms around the wealth represented in the gold-plated structures filling these halls.

A thought dawned on me as I stood in the back of the nave of St. Peter and Paul’s Cathedral in St. Petersburg, Russia, staring at the gilded altar rising to the ceiling. Inching my way through the milling throng of tourists snapping pictures, jabbering nosily, jockeying for position to catch a glimpse of whatever the tour guide highlighted, I felt a profound sense of loss. I stood in a magnificent house of worship, yet nothing about the chaotic atmosphere within resembled worship.

I sincerely appreciate the beauty and boldness of these magnificent churches, even though the opulent style challenges my simpler tastes. The beauty is wasted when you realize that few of the cathedrals offered more than the occasional worship service. Most served only a secular function, reflecting the history of time gone by. Museums to extravagance. Mausoleums for a faith dying of apathy.

Statistics tell us that the Christian faith in Europe has been on a steady decline for decades. Fewer than 10 percent of the populations in Norway, Denmark and Finland attend church regularly. Those who profess a faith in Christ stand in absolute minority among the citizens of Scandinavia and northern Europe. Did the extravagance of the buildings contribute in any way to the decline in faith, or was it something more personal?

As I sorted through my distress over the decline of faith and the emptiness of these sanctuaries of worship, I recalled an encounter Jesus had with the Pharisees late in his ministry. The conversation was one of Jesus’ most direct and confrontational messages to the religious leaders of his day.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence…You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” –Matthew 23:25-28

With those words Jesus reminds me that the decline of faith evident in Europe and in our own country has far less to do with the physical appearance of our buildings than it does the spiritual application of my heart. Jesus reminds me that I can play the part, speak the words, construct a beautiful façade as I proclaim myself a Christian, and still my heart beats as empty and devoid of worship as those amazing cathedrals. I can gild myself in gold, putting up a grand façade, but never demonstrate God’s love to a lost and dying world.

Cathedrals and churches echo with emptiness across the world because our deeds do not match our faith. James spoke to this.

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such a faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But some will say, ‘You have faith; I have deeds.’ Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds.” –James 2:14-18

Sadly, I’m sure there are times when those men and women searching for answers to faith’s questions see me as a gilded cathedral. An empty shell hiding behind a gilded face. Christ-like in outside appearance, but without the deeds to back it up. Such is the height of hypocrisy.

A cathedral without worship is a museum. Faith without works a mausoleum. How much better would it be for us to be plain an unattractive to the world, but open to God’s presence as we serve and minister to his people?

At the end of the day, these beautiful cathedrals sit idle because the people forgot what it meant to serve. Forgot what it meant to invest themselves in the lives of those they encountered. Our modern churches run the risk of becoming silent witnesses to our dying faith unless those of us who profess Christ act faithfully on his behalf in service and ministry to those we encounter today and tomorrow.

For the sake of our country and our faith, I pray we’re up to the task.