Author: kirkallanlewis@yahoo.com

In Spirit and Truth

Background Passage: John 4:4-30; 39-42

He never called her name, but he knew her.

She held no position of prominence or power. In fact, her actions tell us she is a woman with a sullied past and sinful present.

Think of all the conversations Jesus had with his disciples. Think about all the discussions he held with the Pharisees. Jesus’ shared his longest dialogue with a Samaritan woman who was an outcast in her own community, a woman no other Jewish man would even dare to address.

Jesus encountered the Samaritan woman at the well just outside the village of Sychar as he rested from his travels in the heat of the day.

What was it about the conversation that made it so valuable to you and me that made the Holy Spirit impress upon John the need to share it in such vivid detail?

The Chosen is a dramatic television series released in 2020 about the life of Jesus. The series, the largest crowd-funded series in television history, was created and co-written by American film producer Dallas Jenkins. The series looks at Jesus’ life through the eyes of those who met him. One of the episodes is about the Samaritan woman at the well.

Take a look at this eight minute clip from The Chosen about the woman at the well. I think it will be worth your time.

These are the words of Jesus I remember hearing in the episode with such clarity.

“A time is coming when you will worship the Father on neither this mountain nor in Jerusalem…A time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the father in the spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the father seeks.” (John 4:21-23)

John provided such rich detail of this encounter because at its heart, he reminds us that God desires authentic worship…real…genuine worship…from all who would believe in him.

The historical bitterness between the Jews and Samaritans erected a social barrier between the people. Despite both sides longing for the Messiah, they debated the form of worship. The Jews believing one must worship God only in the temple in Jerusalem. The Samaritans, excluded from that opportunity, choosing to worship on Mount Gerizim. When challenged, the woman fell back on tradition, valuing the place of worship rather than the object of her worship.

Jesus urged her to a deeper understanding. Trapped in the religious traditions of her people, she didn’t get to that point easily. Her self-loathing evident because of past transgressions, she hid behind the rigid wall of cultural animosity. She argued. She challenged. She pushed back.

Jesus looked into her heart and saw the woman through the eyes of a loving and forgiving God and that changes her. When she understood it was no longer about “mountains and temples,” she became what he saw within her…the person she was meant to be. A worshiper in spirit and truth.

In that realization, is our first lesson. What does it mean to worship in spirit and truth?

To worship in spirit can mean that we must worship God from the heart. Sincere and motivated by our love for God and our thankfulness for all he has done for us.

Caught up in our own issues or distracted by the pressures of life, we can make worship mechanical and ritualistic. When worship becomes rote or routine, it is not “in spirit.” Worshiping in spirit requires us to infuse the act of worship with genuine praise and adoration, with heartfelt commitment and faith and with deep love that recognizes the grace gift of the one to whom we worship.

While most biblical scholars say there is a difference in this passage between the “in spirit” (lower case), and the Holy Spirit (upper case), we can recognize the role of the Holy Spirit in our worship. It is the Holy Spirit who opens our heats to God’s love and power. It is the Holy Spirit who gives voice to our rejoicing and our gratitude. It is the Holy Spirit who helps us see all that God offers through our relationship with Jesus. It is the Holy Spirit who joins us in meaningful and purposeful corporate worship.

To worship in spirit is to approach the throne of God knowing that we are loved and loving in return. It is to open our hearts to the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives so that the worship we experience allows us to see what Jesus sees in us. To set aside our failures. To become the person we were meant to be.

Jesus also told the woman at the well that she must worship “in truth.” He cautioned her not to place too much stock on the where of worship, but rather on the who. He called her to ensure that her worship did not stray from God’s teaching, God’s word. Our worship must be anchored to the rock of Jesus’ teachings, his life and his nature.

There is a tendency in the modern world to let our cultural or political realities color our worship. God’s truth gets watered down to be more palatable. Worship seeks to entertain rather than enlighten.

Worshiping in truth must exalt God. It must be grounded in biblical doctrine and reflect the nature of God, his Son and his Spirit.

The Christian vocal group, Mercy Me, sings a song that speaks to the spirit and truth of worship. The chorus of Offering reflects an attitude of worship that all should seek to emulate.

“I bring an offering of worship to my king.
No one on earth deserve the praises that we sing.
Jesus, may you receive the honor that you’re due
Oh, Lord, I bring my offering to you.”

The words do not speak to the tithes we share, even though giving of that which God has blessed us with is a form of worship. I think the words remind us that we, our lives, ought to be a daily offering of worship to God.

To worship in spirit and truth is to give ourselves over to God completely as our offering of praise and adoration to the king. To yield our hearts without pause or reservation. To hold so tightly to the truth of God’s word that everything we do brings praise and honor to the father.

As I watched again that clip from The Chosen, I was struck by the way the woman at the well rejoiced in her new understanding of Jesus as the Messiah she longed to see. It was a joyous expression of worship born of the spirit and expressed in truth.  Her excitement was contagious. As she shared her discovery with the town that had rejected her, they caught her joy.

“Then, leaving her water jar, she went back to the town and said to the people, ‘Come see the man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?’ They came out of the town and made their way to him…Many of the Samaritans from that town believed him because of the woman’s testimony

“So, when the Samaritans came to him, they urged him to stay with them and he stayed two days. And because of his words, many more became believers. They said to the woman, ‘We know longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves and we know that this man really is the savior of the world.'” (John 4:26-30, 39-42)

Oh, that my heart…our hearts…could worship that freely. So filled with joyous worship that those around us got caught up in our excitement in ways that brought them to the Lord. May our worship inspire others to understand that Jesus really is the savior of the world.

Let’s make that our prayer this week.

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Another Thought: As I uploaded this devotional thought onto my blog, I reread the biblical story in John one more time. I was struck by yet another truth that doesn’t quite fit the original theme. I share it with you free of charge.

Scripture tells us Jesus “had to go through Samaria.” For every self-respecting Jew of that day traveling through Samaria was no choice at all. Jewish travelers went out of their way to avoid the region.

The Greek words used in the text suggest “it was necessary” for Jesus to go through Samaria. In other words, Jesus felt so convicted by his Father to walk through the heart of Samaria that he could take no other route. He knew whom he would encounter along the way and could not miss the opportunity. In the video, Jesus tells the woman, “I came to meet you.”

Here’s what warms my soul. Jesus seeks us out. He doesn’t wait for us to come to him. He takes a right turn and heads through our Samaria intent on finding us. He sits at our well talking to us about the living water he offers, giving us a chance to be the persons he sees…the persons we were meant to be.

We may be living lives apart from God like the woman at the well. Ashamed of our failures. Certain that God has little use for us. Therefore, we pretend to have little use for him. Yet, there he is. Sitting at the well. Ready to talk.

We may have a great relationship with Jesus. Seeking his will. Enjoying our worship. Trying to do what he wants us to do. Yet, there he is. Sitting at the well. Ready to talk. Encouraging us to drill down deeper into the well of faith. To look harder at his teachings. To find a more authentic form of worship.

Either way, I promise, we can be more than we are now. It doesn’t matter what your life has been or what it is now, God desires a deeper, more honest, more fulfilling relationship with you. Even if we are not thinking of Jesus at all, he is thinking of us for no other reason than he loves us.

I find that…compelling.

Freedom and Responsibility

Background Passages: John 8:31-36, Romans 8:3-4, I Peter 2:16, Galatians 5:13-23, James 2:14-18 and James 1:25

Early in my public relations career, I attended my first out of state business trip. How novel to travel half way across the country on someone else’s dime.

Robin and I drop the boys off with my parents in Ropesville, Texas, and boarded a plane for Pennsylvania. I wasn’t that excited about the conference, but I jumped at the chance to go to Philadelphia over the July 4th holiday.

I attended the obligatory meetings, but as soon as I could shake free, Robin and I walked the historic parts of the city. The Liberty Bell. Independence Hall. Parades. Fireworks. All the trappings of the Fourth of July in an historic city.

Standing behind the rope and staring at the 56 desks in that sweltering room in Independence Hall, I could almost see and hear those men debating their grievances against England and its king.

Samuel and John Adams. Benjamin Franklin. Thomas Jefferson. John Hancock.

Hancock, the president of the Second Continental Congress and governor of Massachusetts, is remembered more for his large and flamboyant signature than his role in leading the Congress.

Though the story is anecdotal, Hancock signed the document with a flourish and remarked, “The British ministry can read that name without spectacles. Let them double their reward.”

He probably didn’t really utter that line, but as they said at the end of the 1962 film, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

Though the 56 men representing the 13 colonies agreed in principle to the words of the Declaration on July 4, they didn’t actually sign it until August 2. Still, the significance of the declaration is a call for freedom that we celebrate as a nation today.

I love the words first learned in school.

“…We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness…”

I sit here today knowing we as a nation have not always lived up to that standard of those words. I sit here knowing that we too often fail to grasp the full weight of the responsibilities that go with freedom and liberty.

I sit here today knowing they may be the most significant words of freedom ever written in a secular, political context. They represent ideals worth celebrating. Ideals worth pursuing with vigor. Ideals worth our best efforts to achieve for all people.

Freedom. Liberty. Rich blessings far too many on earth do not have. Blessings far too easily taken for granted by those who enjoy them.

In the middle of the family and community celebrations this week, let’s remember the true significance of those words.

We ought also to remember God-inspired words which speak to our spiritual liberty and freedom so central to our faith as Christians.

Martin Luther penned a treatise in 1520 called On the Freedom of a Christian. I remember reading parts of his paper in my one year of seminary. He declared in his work that “A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant, subject to all.”

The statements seemed contradictory, but not to Luther. Our faith and trust in Jesus frees us from being slaves to a salvation doctrine that requires good works.

Luther taught that salvation cannot be earned by doing good things. It is a grace gift, freely given by a loving God to anyone who believes in Jesus Christ. Therefore, Luther says, Christians are completely free, not bound by any law, rule or commandment that we must keep in order to earn salvation.

But, Luther also said there is a flip side to the coin. Though set free in this way from salvation dependent upon good works, we are not set free from doing good works.

With the freedom that exists under Christ, there is great responsibility. Let’s think quickly about both of these ideas.

Jesus sat down with a group of Jews who had believed in him. He began to teach them what it means to be one of his followers. As he taught, he uttered what may be the most significant words of freedom ever written in a spiritual context.

“To the Jews who believed in him, Jesus said, ‘If you hold to my teachings, you are really my disciples. Then, you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The Jewish believers struggled with the concept, proud of their national identity and proud of the fact that though they were subjected to foreign occupation throughout their history, they refused to call themselves slaves. Freedom, you see, was trapped within their political reality. It took but a moment for Jesus to drive home his point.

“Everyone who sins is a slave to sin. Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. So, if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” (John 8:34-36)

Jesus is talking about a reality of life. If we were required to be 100 percent obedient to God’s law in order to obtain salvation, none of us would gain an entry pass to heaven. Paul said it clearly, “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

In the good news of the gospel God made provision for our weakness. We are freed from both the eternal consequences and control of sin.

You see, the truth Jesus spoke about to all who would listen, the truth that sets us free from the burden of perfect compliance, is the grace gift of salvation in Jesus Christ.

“You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” is our spiritual declaration of independence.

Paul told the believers in Rome, “What the law of Moses could not do, God did by sending his own son as an offering for sin, bearing man’s punishment for him so he could be set free from sin and enjoy the fellowship of God.” (Romans 8:3-4)

God through Jesus Christ and our faith in him, bore the consequences of our failure to live up to the standard he set before us. Because of that, we should live differently, trying harder each day to avoid the control of sin in our lives.

Peter encouraged those early Christians with these words.

“Act as free men and do not use your freedom as a covering to do evil, but use it as bondslaves to God. (I Peter 2:16)

In her book, You Learn By Living: Eleven Keys to a More Fulfilling Life,” Eleanor Roosevelt wrote that freedom places its own requirements on all who live under its blanket.

“With freedom comes responsibility. For the person who is unwilling to grow up, the person who does not want to carry his own weight, this is a frightening prospect.”

The liberty we enjoy as a nation sets us free to live pretty much as we choose, but it carries the great responsibility of citizenship. We bear the responsibility protecting our freedoms, respecting the rights of others and ensuring those freedoms extend to all of us. For freedom to work well in society, those who enjoy the freedom must live well. Do right. Care for one another.

Paul said something similar applies to Christ followers. He told a group of struggling Christians in Galatia,

“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh, rather serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in this one command, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you bite and devour one another, watch out or you will be destroyed by one another.” (Galatians 5:13-15)

Paul urges his fellow believers to “walk in the spirit,” calling them to produce fruit, or evidence of their faith in their daily lives. Things such as “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

Unlike Ms. Roosevelt’s political context, the Bible teaches that with spiritual freedom comes even greater responsibility. To the person unwilling to grow spiritually, the person who does not carry the cross of his testimony in Christ, this is a frightening prospect.

For spiritual freedom to work well, those who enjoy the freedom in Christ must live well. Do right. Care for one another. We must feel compelled by conscience and conviction to do good works.

Jesus taught us all we need to know about living well. His life was the open textbook. Building relationships. Healing the hurting. Feeding the hungry. Caring for the helpless. Opening the doors for an eternal relationship with God to all with eyes to see and ears to hear. His life, full to the brim with faith in his father, was a life spent doing good works.

My Mom was a woman of practical faith. Her faith was not a “Sunday go to meeting with white gloves on” kind of faith where one professed a trust in Christ yet whose deeds showed little evidence of it. She got her hands dirty in God’s good work caring for the elderly in the Lubbock community.

In my favorite passage from James, the writer refutes the idea that faith frees us to do what we please; that we are under no obligation to do good to others.

“What good is it my brothers if someone claims they have faith, but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or 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, it is dead.

“But someone 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)

Every good deed, every act of mercy, every act of love extended to another ought to be a natural outgrowth of the freedom we have in Christ. It is within the living of a Christ-like life of love that we find our blessings.

“But anyone who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom and continues in it, not forgetting what they heard, but doing it, they will be blessed in what they do.” (James 1:25)

Though I am far from perfect, I am keenly aware of the responsibility my faith carries to live well and do good.

I am grateful today for the freedom I have as an American. I do not take it lightly. I recognize the responsibility that comes with it.

I am, however, far more grateful today for the freedom granted me by the grace of God through my belief in Jesus as my savior.

It is a self-evident truth. “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.”

On this July 4th weekend, that is my spiritual declaration of independence.

The Race Marked Out for Us

Background Passage: Hebrews 12:1-2; Matthew 13:1-23

The passage below falls easily into my list of 10 favorite Bible verses. Born with an athlete’s mind, if not an athlete’s talent, I find I can relate to the imagery suggested by the writer of Hebrews. Hebrews was written to a group of Christian believers who faced the temptation to abandon their faith in the face of fierce opposition and outright persecution.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by
so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us throw off everything that hinders
and the sin that so easily entangles,
and let us run with perseverance
the race marked out for us.
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus,
the author and perfecter of our faith…”

The astute writer drew upon the life testimonies of men and women we might place in our Hall of Honor for the faith they demonstrated when God called them to serve. He wanted these struggling brothers and sisters to think of these great people as spectators in the crowd, encouraging them in their Christian walk.

Each of us can come up with a list of our personal heroes of faith whose lives inspire, encourage and strengthen our own. When life gets tough, thinking about those who lived through their own share of disappointments, despair and defeat can keep us pressing forward in our own spiritual journey.

To get to where I want to go with this devotional thought, let’s first hit a couple of quick points.

First, we must cast off all that slows us down or trips us up. The language of the passage talks about being weighed down, burdened, or carrying a bulging, heavy load. Using the writer’s imagery, we think about it in terms of a race or athletic contest.

There is a reason why runners take off their warm-up suits before the start their race. There is a reason their track shoes are all sole and little substance. Everything they wear is lightweight. To gain a runner’s edge, they wish to get rid of anything that would slow them down.

I remember my high school football coach putting lead weights around my ankles during practice and making me run the drills. Every move felt like I was slogging through mud. I don’t know if I actually moved faster when the weight was removed, but it sure felt like it.

That is the mental picture the writer of Hebrews is painting. Get rid of what might keep you from running the race God calls us to run. It is easy to see times in my Christian life when I carried weight I didn’t need to carry. Bad habits. Bitterness. Irritation. Regret. Poor choices. Lost focus. Selfishness. Arrogance. It is sin that wraps itself around our hearts and our feet until it causes us to stumble. Sin that trips us up.

Living the kind of life God desires for us requires us to be agile and quick in our response to his call and his will. We simply can’t do that when we carry around our burdens or try to walk with weights on our feet. We can’t move when our feet are trapped in a tangle of sin.

Scripture tells us to throw it off, untangle our feet, and get back in the race.

Secondly, we must be in spiritual shape to stay in the race. It’s easy to stay committed to Christ for a time. It’s much hard to have staying power. The writer of Hebrews says,

“…run with perseverance…”

Depending on your Bible translation, this admonition may read, “…run with patience…” or “run with endurance.”

Those early Christians lived during a time when calling oneself a Christian was dangerous. When faced with economic sanctions and life or death choices, many turned away from the faith to which they were called. Before we get too high on our horse and claim superior faith, we need to think about those times when we set aside our own faith for the convenience of the day. A commitment made to God that we failed to keep. A promise made that we broke. A holy fire within that we let smolder.

Jesus talked about those moments in life when he shared the parable of the sower. He spoke of the farmer’s seed that fell on the thin soil. It sprouted quickly and withered just as fast. He told his disciples later that the plant is like a person who receives God’s word gladly and sets it aside when life gets tough. The faith which grew so promisingly, withered in the heat of the day.

When we give our lives to God and accept his gift of grace, it is not a commitment of convenience that allows us to walk away when challenges come. Salvation does not vaccinate us against a pandemic of problems. Sometimes the best lessons we learn come when we look back on our spiritual walk and see how God worked in our lives during times we struggled most to see him and sense his will.

The writer of Hebrews encourages us, “be patient.” “Persevere.” “Endure.” “Finish what we started.”

Here’s the third point…the idea that caught my attention when reading this passage this time. The writer of Hebrews talked about the “race marked out for us.”

“…the race marked out for us…”

In one sense, we are all running the same race…our spiritual journey is all about following God’s call. Being obedient to his will for our lives. In another sense, we each have our own race to run. You can’t run mine and I can’t run yours. It is my unique call. God, in his wisdom, laid out the track that he asked me to run.

There are some believers in the world who must run a race of real persecution, living out their faith beset by those who would punish them for believing in Jesus. Their race is more difficult than the race I run.

There are some believers who daily face abuse, rejection, poverty, sickness, loneliness. There are Christians who face heartbreak, unimaginable loss and financial ruin. It is not the race they wished for, but it is the race they must run.

God has given me a race to run. He asks me to stay in my lane because that’s where the things I need to learn and his best blessings will be found.

When we were all younger, three of us would meet each evening after our kids were put to bed for a nightly jog. After several months of running three miles a night, one of us, I don’t remember who, had the brilliant idea to run a half-marathon…13 miles and change. That meant some nights we were running five miles and some Saturdays much longer in preparation.

Though all of us were a bit more slender in those days, I didn’t have the runner’s mindset nor the runner’s body. I was forever falling behind. When we began to stretch out those nightly runs, I usually fell behind quite a bit.

At some point, I found a shortcut. About midway through our routine route, we entered a neighborhood that circled around and found the same road on which we had been running. I discovered if I took a left when they went straight, I would meet them coming back, knocking several blocks off my run.

It seemed to be a brilliant strategy as long as I could withstand their less than gentle ribbing. It seemed a good idea until we began our official half-marathon race in the hills of Huntsville, Texas. All those days taking a shortcut took their toll. By they time I finished the race that day, exhausted and spent, they were sipping lemonade and eating bananas in the shade with their feet up. I just wasn’t in as good a physical condition as my friends because I took months of shortcuts.

God, in his infinite will and wisdom, has our life’s course laid out. Every shortcut, every detour we take because it’s easier, erodes our spiritual condition. In “…the race marked out for us” there are no shortcuts that honor God’s purpose and play for our lives.

The good news is that whatever race we have been given to run, and whatever shortcuts we took that put us on the wrong path, the writer of Hebrews gives us the key to finishing well.

“Let us fix our eyes upon Jesus…”

The best runners in the world leave the starting blocks with their eyes on the tape at the finish line. They don’t look at the other runners. They don’t glance into the stands. They run with their eyes on the tape.

The world dangles a lot of attractive philosophies and practices in front of our eyes. We hear the cheers of those who would encourage us to run a different race. The only counter to the siren call of others is to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.

He is faithful. He is trustworthy. He will never forsake you. This is exactly what the writer of Hebrews is telling his persecuted brothers and sisters. It is the message they needed to hear.

Run the race you’ve been given. Throw off anything that keeps you from running well. Run with patience and endurance. Stay in your lane. Take no shortcuts. Keep your eyes on Jesus.

It is the message I needed to hear.

In the Potter’s Hands

Background Passages: Jeremiah 18:1-6; 2 Chronicles 1:7,10; Luke 22:42 Ephesians 2:10

A confluence of disconnected spiritual thoughts joined into one idea this week…rivulets of scripture and song flowing from different places to form one lesson, one powerful reminder of what it means to live a life obedient to God’s will. See if you can follow the path of my warped mind.

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Sunday’s Random Thought…

It came to mind again this week when I was lost in thought while exercising. Out of nowhere, I thought of the song, Have Thine Own Way, by Adelaide Pollard. The lines that kept repeating in my head were:

“Have Thine own way, Lord.
Have Thine own way.
Thou art the potter,
I am the clay.
Mold me and make me,
after thy will,
while I am waiting,
yielded and still.”

It seems that after graduating from college in Boston, Pollard moved to Chicago to teach in a girl’s school there. In frail health, she was drawn to first a faith healer and then to an evangelist who preached only about the end times and the second coming of Christ.

She moved back to New England feeling called to be a missionary in Africa. A series of health setbacks, detours and roadblocks derailed her plans. Despondent, she attended a prayer meeting one evening and heard an elderly woman pray: “It doesn’t matter what you bring into our lives, Lord, just have your own way with us.”

Before the evening was over, Pollard penned the words to the song that kept repeating in my brain.

“Have Thine own way…mold me and make me…Thou art the potter. I am the clay.”

It is a metaphor not uncommon in scripture. Jeremiah used it to make a point. Paul hinted at it several times in his letters.

Let that tickle the corners of your heart for a bit. We’ll come back to it.

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Tuesday’s Random Thought…

They had been a rebellious people. Having grown indifferent to the covenant they made with God, the people of Israel grew obstinate and defiant toward the word of the Lord. Shedding the commands of God like a dirty cloak, they held God’s law in contempt, comfortable doing their own thing.

God called them “stiff-necked.” Stubborn. Intractable. Hard to lead.

I find the term descriptively appropriate to my life at times. “Stiff-necked” was a term intimately familiar to the Jewish people. Most farmed small plots to feed their families and livestock. With oxen to pull the plow, they used an ox-goad, a pointed stick or metal rod to poke the ox to direct its path. The stubborn or stiff-necked ox would ignore the prod and go where it wanted to go.

The Hebrew people lived a roller coaster life of obedience and stubbornness. This was one of those moments at the bottom of the ride. God called Jeremiah to give a word of warning to his stiff-necked people.
Weary of their rebelliousness, God told Jeremiah to “go to the potter’s house” and wait for his word. Jeremiah sat down beside the potter and watched him work the wheel.

“But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as it seemed best to him.” Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does? Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.” (Jeremiah 18:1-6)

I like that idea. When I am misshapen, God can form me into another pot as it seems best to him.

Let that germinate in your fertile soil for a little while.

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Thursday’s Random Thought…

The day had been a glorious day. Jesus’ entry into the City of David found him surrounding by an adoring multitude, waving palm branches and singing praises. They wanted nothing more than to be near the one who had done so many miraculous things. Jesus spent the day preaching and teaching all who would listen.

After an evening meal that left his closest followers bewildered and perplexed, Jesus took them back out of the city into the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. Settling his weary band of disciples onto the rocky hillside, Jesus took a handful of his closest friends a little farther up the hill. “Come, pray with me,” he implored them.

Jesus walked a few steps away before falling on his knees. Leaning against a boulder with his head searching the heavens, Jesus prayed for a way out of the horror that awaited him.

“Father, if you are willing,” he prayed, “let this cup pass from me.”

I can only imagine Jesus recalling Abraham, hovering over his son, Isaac, with a knife prepped and ready to take his life in sacrifice to God. As Jesus recalled how God stayed the hand of Abraham, telling him to find the ram trapped in the thicket as a substitute for his son, I can see Jesus hoping that God would find a ram to take his place.

No new word came from above. No ram in the garden. Jesus, ever obedient to his father, prayed, what Bill Wilson, with the Center for Healthy Churches, calls the “prayer of holy indifference.”

“Yet, not my will, by thine be done.” (Luke 22:42)

Such sweet surrender. A sobering thought for any day. Take a moment. Consider its implications.

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Friday’s Random Thought…

In a recent study of Solomon’s life, we find him taking the reins of leadership from his father David. The task ahead must have seemed daunting. His first official act was to bring the people together to worship. A thousand sacrifices were made. Prayers voiced. Songs played and sung in adoration of their Creator God. Deliverer. Lord Almighty.

God honored Solomon’s worship. That evening he spoke to the new king and offered him a blank check of God’s promise.

“Ask me whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon answered God, “…Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I might lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours.” (2 Chronicles 1:7,10)

God delivered in a significant way. Through his life, Solomon was noted for his wisdom. Scripture tells us kings and queens from all over the known world journeyed to Jerusalem to sit in counsel with the man. To pick his brain.

“All the kings of the earth sought audience with Solomon to hear the wisdom God had put on his heart.” (2 Chronicles 9:23)

Solomon allowed God to teach him. To reveal truth to him. To apply that truth to everyday life. Solomon looked at the world around him and understood how much he did not know about governing…about life…about how to be who God needed him to be. His prayer for wisdom and knowledge reveals his humility before God. In praying for God’s help, he made himself clay in the potter’s hands, a person to be molded and shaped.

Hang on to that bit of wisdom just a moment longer.

……….

There you go. Four seemingly random thoughts entering my brain at different times and for very different reasons. Let me share with you, if I can, where these streams of thought came together.

If I’m honest, I suspect my life is not that different from the lives of those who frustrated God and Jeremiah. One minute faithful. The next minute faithless. One moment seeking God. The next moment scorning God. While I want to believe I live my life more in those faithful, seeking moments, those times when I am faithless and scorning haunt me profoundly. Create more turmoil than necessary.

That’s why I the words of Have Thine Own Way resonate so deeply. Adelaide Pollard nailed it. Despite the turmoil in her life, despite every obstacle that kept her from going where she wanted to go, she penned words that speak to me every time I hear them.

“Thou art the potter. I am the clay.
Mold me. Make me.
After thy will.”

That’s the prayer of one hoping to let go of the arrogance and ignorance that tends to walk it’s own road, unwilling to listen to either the still, small voice or the clap of thunder.

The sweetest times of life come when I make myself pliable enough for God to begin again to shape me into the man he desires me to be. I see myself sitting next to Jeremiah, learning a valuable lesson from the potter. When my life is marred in God’s hands, I am glad he reshapes it as a “another pot,” remolding me in ways that seem “best to him.”

That only happens when let go of my stubborn pride and my stiff-necked attitude.

That’s where I draw inspiration from Solomon. God offered Solomon anything…everything. Yet, Solomon did not ask for riches. He did not ask for possessions or honor. He did not ask for the death of his enemies. He did not ask for a long life.

Solomon asked for God’s wisdom. I shudder to think of my response if I were allowed to rub God’s genie lamp and claim my wish. Seeking God’s will for our lives is the ultimate act of wisdom. Understanding that God’s skill at the potter’s wheel outshines our clumsy attempts to shape our own lives. Think about Pollard’s fervent prayer of submission. Solomon’s humble request for wisdom.

Then, we find ourselves in the Garden of Gethsemane. Listening to Jesus plead for God to find another way that would not take him to the cross. Spending hours agonizing over that which he was called to do.

As he prayed and listened for his Father’s word, he got to a decision point where he could walk on or walk away. His prayer was perfect. A prayer indifferent to his own will and wish. “Not my will, but yours be done.”

In the silence immediately after that prayer, I believe a calm settled in Jesus’ heart. A peace in knowing that if he remained obedient, all would be well. That God’s purpose and plan for his life and for the world, would be satisfied.

So, recognizing my tendency to be stiff-necked when it comes to what God desires of me, I lean upon a song that asks God to mold me, like a potter, after his will, not mine. I seek his wisdom, knowing his understanding far exceeds my limited abilities. When submission and humility united, the prayer of holy indifference is so much easier to pray.

Nevertheless, Father, not my will, but yours be done. weet surrender of one completely in God’s will.

Today’s Last Random Thought…

As I finished this meandering idea, hoping it would make sense, one more verse came to mind. One more random…God-inspired…thought.

Paul, writing to the church in Ephesus, reminded them that the grace gift of salvation that God provided gave them divine purpose. He said,

“We are God’s workmanship, created in Jesus Christ, to do good works, which he determined in advance for us to do.’” (Ephesians 2:10)

The word Paul uses for “workmanship” can be translated “work or art” or “masterpiece.” I like that idea, particularly in light of my other random thoughts.

The potter is also an artist. As capable with a cup as with a sculpture. As the works of God’s hand, carefully shaped and molded into a masterpiece of his will and way, we are called then to do the good work he has planned for us to do. Capable of doing it well. Capable of doing it right. Capable of doing it consistently.

All it required is submission, humility, surrender and the willingness to let the potter work.

Now, you catch a glimpse of how my mind works. I just hope there is a clear message buried in the meandering madness.

I Have Missed It

Background: Acts 2:42-47; I John 1:3

I have missed it. I just did not know how much I missed it.

I stood to the side of the room and relished the laughter and boisterous conversations. Last night, 130 deacons and their spouses gathered in the open air, cavernous space of a cleared out workshop and storage area behind our church. It was the first time since the pandemic struck the country and my church that we had been able to come together for a fellowship meal.

Our pastor and our church have been careful during the pandemic. For months last year, we held drive-in church. Fellowship was limited to a honk and a wave from behind the safety of our car windshields.

When allowed, we moved back inside with every other row of pews blocked off and appropriately social distanced. We wore masks and were encouraged not to linger in our normal pre-covid conversations.

For a congregation that values relationships with one another as a family of God, to be distanced and isolated was gut-wrenching and heart-breaking.

A significant portion of our congregation has been vaccinated and with the country slowly returning to normal, it seemed the right time to come together again in fellowship. We took some precautions. Our traditional Deacon Banquet became a much more informal semi-outdoor, hamburger cook-out.

Friendly faces. Excited conversation. Exuberant laughter. Genuine smiles. The simple joy of being together again in fellowship made that ordinary Sam’s burger patty taste like a T-bone steak.

I imagine God looked upon that scene at the fellowship he inspired and turned to a nearby angel and quoted himself from Genesis:

“And God saw all he had made and said, “It’s very good.” (Genesis 1:31)

And it was very good.

Enjoying the company of others is not a distinctive Christian concept. God created us as social beings. I still miss the close associations I had outside the church prior to the pandemic. While I’m beginning to see things opening up, it is still not free and normal.

The nature of our humanity calls us together. With the deep fractures ripping through our culture these days, maybe that’s why the fellowship last night touched me to the core. We were together in Christian fellowship. I knew I had missed it, but I didn’t know how much I missed it until that last car drove away.

The story of the New Testament church begins in Acts. After Peter’s Pentecost sermon, scripture tells us that about 3,000 people joined that small group of about 100 Jesus followers. The movement that began in Jesus became a church. Not a church as we tend to define it today, but a body of believers united in Christ intent upon taking care of each other.

“And they devoted themselves to the apostles teaching, to fellowship, to breaking bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” (Acts 2;42-47)

It should not surprise us that the early church…or any church today…for that matter devoted itself to “teaching and prayer.” The message of Jesus Christ, carried in the lives of those believers prompted the growth and power of the early church. The message they preached and lived was the primary reason God could add to their numbers each day.

Because the gathering last night is so fresh on my mind, I want to share a few thoughts on fellowship.

The Greek word was the rage when I was in college back in the 1970s. “Koinonia.” We used it to talk about Christian fellowship. For a time, we had a weekly luncheon at the Baptist Student Union called “Koinonia.” We ate and visited together.

Baptist churches and institutions (and other denominations, I suspect) in some ways trivialized the meaning of “fellowship.” Fellowship became a “social.” Coffee. Conversation. Donuts. Pot Luck. Games. The fun to balance the seriousness of the sermon.

Step it up a notch to add a few spiritual components to your fellowship definition. Sharing needs. Prayer. Encouraging. Comforting. Edifying one another. Now we’re moving in the right direction, but the Christian aspect of fellowship as demonstrated by the first century church is much deeper and richer.

“Koinonia,” the common Greek word which we often translate as “fellowship” means “common or mutual,” according to people more scholarly than I am. A more literal interpretation speaks to “sharing together” as a partnership or “sharing with” as in giving to others. “Partnering with.” “Sharing with.” In a word, relationships.

Fellowship, then, in the New Testament sense, is that thing commonly shared in some way by all parties involved. Relationships. Burdens. Privileges. Responsibilities.

To think of fellowship in a purely secular sense founded on common interests or physical ties would have been a foreign concept to Luke and the apostles. It always held a spiritual connotation. New Testament believers enjoyed fellowship because they first had a relationship with each other in and through Christ.

Consider fellowship as John did when he wrote:

“We proclaim to you what we have seen or heard so that you may also have fellowship with us. And, our fellowship is with the Father and with his son, Jesus Christ.” (I John 1:3)

Fellowship is a relationship, not an event. The idea is that any event or activity follows naturally out of our relationship with Christ. Luke described that first century church as having “everything in common.” I don’t think that mean they were all like-minded in all matters of life. To me it means they were bound together in Christ to a common call to minister and serve. To share the blessings that come from our faith in God.

Still, it was a part of their new DNA to take care of those in need. Luke said “they sold their property and possessions” to meet the needs of those believers with whom they shared a relationship. Their partnership in ministry meant that they would give their money or sell what they had to sell to care for those among them who were struggling. As Christians we become partners with one another and with God in the common mission and ministry of the church…all for the glory of God.

Within that fellowship, they also found companionship, meeting “every day in the temple courts” and eating together in each other’s homes with “glad and sincere hearts.” I like this mental image.

These are folks that worship…together. Share… together. Do the work…together. Eat…together. Laugh…together. Cry…together. I can image there was a comfortable companionship that emerged from their fellowship similar to what I felt during our Deacon fellowship. For that group of believers in the first century, that companionship must have made every chance or deliberate encounter with one another the highlight of their day.

The late Ted Malone, a Christian radio broadcaster, told the story of a sheep herder on an Idaho ranch who asked him to broadcast the note ‘A’ over the air. When asked why, the shepherd said that his only company were the sheep and his old violin. The violin was out of tune and the note would allow him to tune it again.

Malone honored the request. The shepherd sent Malone a thank you know saying only, “Now, I am in tune.”

During the pandemic, our church like so many others began live-streaming its services. It was a way of staying linked to or connected to those who were unable to come to church for worship. I’m glad we had that opportunity.

The danger in staying on-line is that we stay away from the personal aspect of our faith. Though connected in some ways, there is a disconnect to those things that make being a believer in Christ personal and meaningful. We need to be together to keep our faith alive and growing. When we lose the connection with other believers, when we disassociate ourselves from corporate worship, shared ministry and service, we lose the companionship that encourages our faith.

That first century church struck a harmonious note when they worshiped and ate together. They were in tune with one another. It is the perfect example for the 21st century church. We should be in tune with one another.

Relationship.

Partnership.

Companionship.

As the evening wore down last night and folks started home, I watched with a deep contentment the hugs and handshakes shared among friends. I cherish my relationship with those people. I am encouraged and energized by the partnership we share in the ministries of the church. I delight in the companionship of friends who love God and care so deeply for one another.

I know I’m not alone in this sentiment. Surely, you feel the same about the people in your church. I am grateful to the deacons and their spouses who reminded me last night just how much I need them in my life.

I have missed you. I just didn’t know how much I have missed your fellowship.

Don’t Squander Your Inheritance

Background Passages: Genesis 25:27-34 and Romans 8:15b-17

Using some borrowed cash and his personal savings, Frank Winfield Woolworth bought some discounted merchandise to sell to the general public at reduced cost. He opened his first Woolworth’s Great Five Cent Store in Utica, NY, in 1879. Though that first store went out of business, he kept working and reopened again in Pennsylvania to greater success.

Eventually, Woolworth built his business into a retail corporation worth $25.9 billion in its heyday. Over the years, the company was handed down through the family until the last Woolworth’s closed its doors in 1997. Though the company lives on with a smaller, more targeted product line under the name of Foot Locker, Woolworth’s, as a corporation, no longer exists.

At one point, Woolworth’s granddaughter Barbara Hutton assumed leadership in the corporation. Many people point fingers at Hutton as the first of the Woolworths to start squandering her inheritance. Even though they were the biggest name in business, patriarch F. W Woolworth’s granddaughter knew nothing about making money, and instead vowed never to work a day in her life. By the time she was on her seventh husband, she had lost almost her entire fortune.

All of us would like to leave something of substantial value for our children. If we’re blessed enough to do so, we hope we’ have raised them well enough that they do not misuse the gift they have been given.

Sadly, it is not uncommon to see the second or third generation squander in a season all of the hard work, value, and wealth created by the first generation. When the sons or daughters spend away all which they’ve been given, it’s usually because they take for granted what they have, possessing a sense of entitlement.

What is true in this temporal and material world takes on even greater important in the eternal and spiritual realm. As the beneficiary of a spiritual inheritance of immense value, I know how easy it can be to squander all that God has given us. When I read the Woolworth story this week and wrapped it in spiritual terms, I had to ask myself as I’m asking you, “Are we squandering our God-gifted inheritance?”

It is, I think, a viable question.

*****

He dragged himself back home, weary and filthy after days hunting wild game. He comes empty-handed. Other than one scrawny rabbit, he killed nothing. The long trek home was nothing short of miserable. His quiver empty of arrows and his stomach roiling with hunger as he crested the ridge overlooking his father’s encampment.

The hunter caught the aroma of a rich lentil stew carried on the smoke from the open pit near his father’s tent. Hunger drove him forward.

Young. Impetuous. Famished. Esau rushed to the tent where his brother Jacob sat stirring the pot, sampling from his ladle the tasty broth.

As Jacob sampled the stew, he saw his twin brother making a beeline for the fire pit. Normally quiet and reserved, Jacob did not enjoy confrontation, but something about Esau always set Jacob’s teeth on edge. Seeing the ravenous look on his brother’s face, Jacob’s devious streak flashed.

“Mmmmmm,” Jacob overplayed the taste of the stew, adding a pinch more salt, a look of rapture on his face. “This is soooo good,” he said to himself, knowing that Esau would hear.

Esau plopped to the ground beside the boiling pot, his mouth watering in anticipation. “Quick, let me have some of that red stew! I’m famished!”

Jacob sat back on his heels, giving Esau a sad look. “I don’t know,” he said. “I made this for Father. Maybe you can have the leftovers.”

“There were no deer anywhere,” complained Esau. “I’ve not eaten in days. Give me some stew!”

“I tell you what,” said Jacob, pouring some of the stew into a wooden bowl and wafting it under Esau’s nose. “First, sell me your birthright.”

“Look, I’m about to die,” Esau said. “What good is a birthright to me?”

“Swear to me first,” insisted Jacob. Grudgingly uttering an oath, Esau surrendered his birthright to Jacob.

“Then, Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank and then got up and left. So Esau despised his birthright.”

One has to wonder how often Esau regretted his impetuous disregard of his inheritance. He was hungry, but not starving. For a morsel of food and the temporary satisfaction of a full belly, he gave up that to which he was legally entitled.

I suspect as the years passed, he forgot about it most days, perhaps thinking that Jacob would regard the transaction as a joke between brothers. I doubt either son ever told Isaac of the deal they had made. For his part, Jacob kept the oath in his robe pocket, ready to pull it out when the time was right.

Let’s talk first about this birthright. Thought it is an inheritance, there is no strong 21st century equivalent to the ancient birthright. Our culture is not wired the same way.

In the Hebrew culture, the birthright was a matter of wealth and status. Upon his death, the father’s possessions were divided equally among all the male children, except the firstborn son received a double portion. Under ordinary circumstances when Isaac died, Esau, as the oldest son, would be entitled to two-thirds of Isaac’s wealth. Jacob would receive the final one-third.

This whole situation seems deceitful and completely unfair. Jacob took advantage of his brother in a weak moment to strip him of his inheritance. It makes us cringe a little. However, God knows the heart. When Rebekah became pregnant with the twins, God revealed to Isaac and his wife that the younger son would be the prominent son.

“Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you will be separated. one people will be stronger than the other and the older will serve the younger.” (Genesis 25:23)

We tend to look down on Jacob for his duplicity, but God’s plan depended on the man Jacob would become, not the man he was at the time. He knew how Esau would disregard is birthright.

It is an intriguing story, but how does it answer our initial question? Are we squandering our God-gifted inheritance? Are we doing something that would strip us of God’s blessing?

Let’s first establish our right to a godly inheritance.

In the New Testament, believers in Christ are called the “children of God.” Look at John 1:12-13.

“Yet to all who receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor or human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.”

Being born again through our faith in Jesus Christ and the grace of God, we become his heirs, worthy of our inheritance.

“…but you received the spirit of sonship. And by Him we cry, ‘Abba. Father.’ And the Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—-heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.” (Romans 8:15b-17)

Clearly, scripture teaches that all believers in Christ receive an inheritance by virtue of being a child of God. It is an inheritance with benefits in the here and now as well as in the eternal. We are asked to honor that inheritance with our lives.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.” (Colossians 3:23)

Hebrew culture allowed the father to strip the eldest son of his first-born rights if the father felt him unworthy.

With our spiritual inheritance guaranteed by Christ, we are still asked to live lives worthy of the gift. How might we squander that which we’ve been given? One of the keys is that almost parenthetical sentence in Genesis 25:34.

“So Esau despised his birthright.”

Culture and tradition all but guaranteed Esau a double portion of his father’s inheritance, yet we’re told he “despised his birthright.” It is not that Esau hated the whole idea of getting a double portion. In Hebrew, to despise something, to hate something, is a matter of choice. To despise your inheritance means you put other things ahead of it. To choose something else. In the heat of the moment, Esau chose a single bowl of bean soup over that to which he was entitled.

Other translations say that Esau “profaned his birthright.” That word takes on a different connotation in the 21st century, speaking primarily to crude and vulgar language. In Scripture the term suggests a broader scope. The idea conveys a lack of holiness. To take something that is righteous and good and treat it with contempt.

Esau profaned his God-given and special birthright by trading it for something cheap and ordinary…as if it meant nothing to him.

I wonder how many times I’ve approached my birthright as a child of God with the same level of disregard as Esau demonstrated. How often have I taken my spiritual inheritance for granted? How often have I treated my spiritual birthright too casually? Trading it in for something so inconsequential as a bowl of stew…satisfying in the moment, but with no lasting value.

Paul told the Colossians, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord…” I will not do that if I value a bowl of stew more than I value God’s provision, plan and purpose for my life.

Consider the writer of Hebrews as he posed a rhetorical question to his readers. If the world becomes more important to us that the inheritance God provides then “how shall we escape (God’s judgment) if we ignore such a great salvation?”

The world promises us that the stew is going to taste so good that everything else pales in comparison. It’s going to promise us that if we just eat the stew the hunger will never return. It’s going to promise that the stew…the wealth, the fame, the power, the position will mean more to us that anything God offers.

Here’s the deal though. Stew is not salvation. It’s just stew.

We squander our God-given inheritance when the stew is more important than the salvation. We squander our inheritance when we give too little thought to God and his purpose and will for our lives. We squander our inheritance when we fail to give God’s grace gift the value it deserves. We squander our inheritance when we fail to live as if it matters more than anything else in this world.

This is the lesson I learn from Esau. I can never forget, not for a minute, that God and his promises are holy. I am his and he is mine. When I forget that simple fact, or when I give that relationship anything less than the highest priority in my life, I squander the chance to experience the blessings he promises me.

Claim that inheritance offered through Jesus Christ. Through your witness and your work, increase its value. Frank Woolworth’s daughter squandered her inheritance. Don’t squander the inheritance God gave you no matter how tasty the stew looks.

Amen?

Amen!

He Went Away Rejoicing

Background: Acts 8:26-40; Isaiah 53:7; John 3:16

Like many children who attend “big” church, Josiah sat each week during the sermon with a pad and pencil. Idly drawing pictures. Working a few math problems. And listening…far more than he seemed to be…to the sermon being preached.

Over the months, I saw him stop what he was doing on more than one occasion, his ears perking up at a particular point being made. Often, that moment of interest became the subject of probing questions asked to patient and understanding parents. An intelligent young boy, Josiah was hungry for answers.

My grandson toyed with his faith commitment for more than a year. His parents always stopping what they were doing to hear his conversation and let his mind and heart work toward his own decision.

We delighted in Josiah’s decision to accept Christ as savior two weeks ago and celebrated his baptism with him last Sunday, a special moment observed on his eighth birthday. We sat near the back of the worship center, but we could still notice the radiant smile that rose from the baptismal water. I would blame my teary response on allergies, but I don’t think you’d believe me.

This week, that moment reminded me of another new believer in the Bible, who came up from the water rejoicing.

In the days after the Holy Spirit came upon the believers, the early church began to grow in numbers. As it grew, the religious authorities began to crack down on those who professed a faith in the crucified and resurrected Jesus. The persecution caused hardship and misery.

Philip was one of the chosen. A servant and minister. One of seven deacons selected by the 12 to take care of the widows and those in need within the church. After Stephen, one of the seven, was stoned by the zealous Pharisees, many in the early church left Jerusalem, scattered here and there to avoid the coming persecution. Philip went north into Samaria. He preached boldly, leading many to Christ.

In the middle of his ministry in Samaria, Philip felt convicted by the spirit to head south, along the desert road toward the Mediterranean coast. Without knowing why, Philip obediently followed that call.

At the same time, a man from Ethiopia, a Gentile convert to Judaism, spent time in worship at the Temple. He’s described in scripture as a eunuch…and, yes, it means what you think it means. We also know he was a government official, a treasurer in the court of the queen. Trustworthy. Inquisitive. Sincere. Like Josiah, my grandson, hungry for answers.

It’s doubtful this man could have been in Jerusalem and not heard of the commotion surrounding Jesus. His arrest. His drumhead inquisition before Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate. His hasty conviction. His brutal crucifixion. And…the rumors of his resurrection.

The Ethiopian eunuch left Jerusalem with more questions than answers.

Along the way, the man leaned against the frame of the slowly-driven chariot, reading through the Book of Isaiah, the prophet. The words strange and confusing.

“He was lead like a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb is silent before its shearer, so He does not open his mouth. In his humiliation he was deprived of justice. Who can speak of his descendants? For his life was taken from the earth.” (Isaiah 53:7)

He read the words again. And again. No matter how many times he read the passage, its meaning escaped him.

“What are you reading?”

The Ethiopian looked up, startled at the question. Walking beside the chariot was a older man, dressed in a humble robe, dusty from days on the road.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Philip smiled, pointed at the scroll. “Do you understand what you’re reading?”

The man shook his head, still bewildered. “Honestly, no,” he answered. “How can I unless someone explains it to me?”

“Maybe I can help.”

The Ethiopian beckoned him to join him. Philip stepped lightly into the chariot. Reverently, the man placed the scroll in Philip’s outstretched hands.

“Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about? Himself or someone else?”

With that opening, Philip began to share the good news of Jesus, starting with the prophet’s own words.

The most beautiful story ever told unfolded between two strangers from different cultures, different social classes and different lands. The two men settled into a deep conversation. Questions asked and answered. Philip explained all that the prophets declared. All that had been fulfilled in Christ. All he had personally experienced. All he had heard and been taught.

Philip shared the message of grace and mercy of a loving God who worked through time to bring salvation to a lost and misguided world…a grace, not just for Jerusalem, but for Judea, for Samaria and for the ends of the world.

The Ethiopian man listened with an ear open to the words he was hearing and the spirit of God pulling at his heart.

When his soul could bear no more, the man held up his hand, stopping Philip mid-sentence. He pointed to a small oasis on the barren landscape less than a quarter mile in the distance. Its refreshing water shimmering in the afternoon sun.

“Look, here is water,” he said, “What can stand in the way of my being baptized?”

Philip’s grin stretched ear to ear. He clapped him on the shoulder, “Not a thing, my friend. Not a thing.”

The Ethiopian ordered his driver to stop the chariot. He and Philip dismounted and walked with purpose into the pond. With his confession of faith, the man looked at Philip with expectation. Philip bowed in prayer in joy and gratitude to God. Grateful that God had brought him to this place.

Taking the man in his arms, Philip lowered him into the water. As he brought him up again, the water streamed down the man’s face, mingling with tears of joy, his smile as radiant as the sun.

“And he went away rejoicing.”

It’s funny. I have a pretty good imagination. When I read stories like this in the Bible, I can close my eyes and see it happening in vivid color.

When I read this story again this week, I could see the ornate chariot, two Nubian men dressed in fine robes, joined by one who looked more like a Jewish shepherd. I can see them standing waist deep in a green, muddied pond, surrounded by reeds and brush. I see Philip lower this man into the water. I couldn’t, however, for the life of me picture this Ethiopian man as Philip lifted him out. I could not see his face.

All I could see in my mind’s eye was Josiah coming up out of that water with that smile on his face. You only see that kind of smile when someone truly understands what it means to be loved by God. Only when you’ve open the greatest gift ever given.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son so whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)

I saw the same look in his brother Eli’s face two years ago. The same smiles on the faces of my two sons decades ago. And, I suspect if I had a mirror before me in that baptistry in that little church in Ropesville, Texas, some 58 years ago, it would have been the same smile on my face.

I’m grateful  for Adam and Jordan, Josiah’s parents, for being his Philip. They were the ones who asked him, “Do you understand what you’re reading? Do you understand what you’re hearing?” I’m grateful that Josiah asked them to jump in the chariot with him. They were the ones who led him to make the most important decision of his life. I’m equally grateful for his older brother, Eli, who, by his own profession of faith, created a path for Josiah to follow.

I’m grateful for a pastor who preaches the gospel of Christ in truth and love in ways that even an eight-year-old can understand. I’m thankful for Josiah’s Sunday School teachers who taught those significant lessons that opened his eyes and heart. I’m grateful for my church who promises to love him and let him love them in return.

I am especially grateful that Robin and I have a new brother in Christ.

Let Us Not Give Up Meeting

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-19; I Peter 2:4-8; Hebrews 11:24-25

Jesus slipped to the grass from the flat rock upon which he sat as he spent the last hour in prayer. The canopy of trees under which he now reclined with his back against the rock sheltered him from the late afternoon sun. Jesus glanced at his disciples gathered in a loose cluster about 40 feet further down the hill. As they finished their prayers one by one, they talked quietly among themselves, breaking out a small loaf of bread and passing it around, satisfying their hunger.

Jesus looked from his disciples down into the town of Caesarea Philippi, a bustling city 30 miles north of the region of Galilee. He watched the frenetic pace of the people as they finished the work of the day and headed home. He lifted his eyes toward the sheer cliff on the north side of the city. It rose 150 feet above the lush, green valley below. He knew the stream gushing from the massive grotto on the western edge of the cliff were the headwaters of the Jordan River as it flowed south to the Sea of Galilee.

The cavern was said to be the birthplace of Pan, the Greek god of nature. Worshippers still brought their offerings of fruit and grain, laying them at the altar.

His vision shifted to the gleaming temple of white marble which Philip, the region’s ruler, dedicated to Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor whom the people considered a god. Before these temples and altars were built, Jesus knew his history well enough to know the whole area stood as a center dedicated to the worship of Baal, the ancient Canaanite god.

It was a deeply reflective moment. Jesus contemplated the scene spread across the valley below. Considered all he had done during his ministry. Felt his gut tighten when he thought about the cross to come. Had anything he said and done made a difference? Before he began his final journey to the cross Jesus needed to know. Did anyone really know who he was?

He turned to his disciples quietly talking and laughing in the ease of friendships forged by common experiences. His words cut through the comfortable conversation. “Who do the crowds say I am?” They turned toward Jesus in a rustle of robes and shuffling feet. They were used to his probing. Knew an answer was required. “John the Baptist,” one blurted. “One of the old prophets brought back to life,” announced another. “Elijah,” another proclaimed.

Jesus glanced again at the city below, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turned back to his disciples. “But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

Jesus held his breath, looking into the eyes of each of his closest friends. Their answers would make all the difference. Would he see blank stares of incomprehension? Would he catch so much as a spark of understanding that meant he had at least lit a torch in their hearts? He waited. Felt his heart thump anxiously in his chest.

How his soul must have soared when Peter stood among them, looked at his friends, then to Jesus, knowing that he answered for all of them. “You are the Messiah. The Anointed One of God.”

I wrote the above narrative almost three years ago. It is a favorite episode of mine from the life of Jesus. At the time I wrote it, I used it to talk about what that kind of faith commitment means. I was reminded of that devotional last week for a different reason when I read the following headline that popped up on my news feed.

“U.S. Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time”

A stunning statement, but not surprising. We’ve all seen the evidence.

The Gallup Poll provides interesting fodder for sociologists and students of American culture. Of the many things it has surveyed over the past 80 years, Gallup annually measures religious affiliations and church membership.

Gallup reported this year that Americans’ memberships in houses of worship dropped below 50 percent for the first time since the data was collected. In 2020, 47 percent of Americans said they belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque, a drop of 23 percent over the last 20 years.

At the same time, Gallup also showed that the United States remains “religious.” More than 70 percent of all Americans affiliate with some type of faith tradition.

So, the question begs to be answered. If 70 percent of us claim to be religious, why are less than half of us a member of a local congregation? Why is it that almost every church has a membership role that far exceeds its regular attendance? What does it mean for the church in the days to come?

I think the answers to those questions go back to that hillside in Caesarea Phillipi. After Peter made that astounding declaration of faith and Jesus breathed his sigh of relief, he turned to Peter with an amazing statement of his own.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

Jesus declared to Peter that because of his profession of faith he would be the rock upon which his church would be built. Baptist pastor Michael Stark said, “Our Lord was saying to Peter that he was the beginning of the new Israel, the new people of the Lord, the new fellowship of those believing on His Name. Peter was the first to both understand who Jesus was and to declare openly that truth.”

Peter is spoken of as the rock of the church in the sense that he was the first person to fully comprehend who Jesus was. While the Catholic church elevates Peter to a high status within the church, Peter himself never felt that way. He spoke often of being a “fellow worker” and a “bond slave.”

Don’t take that passage out of context. The rest of scripture declares that it is not just Peter who must be the rock of his church, but all of us. In his one of his own letters to the early church Peter wrote,

“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (I Peter 2:4-8)

Do you hear what he said?

“You, yourselves, like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house…”

You and I, as believers in Christ, are the building blocks of God’s church.

Practically, we know that every building needs a solid foundation and quality materials. God laid a foundation of reconciliation to a sinful world. Jesus’ life and ministry, his work on the cross and his resurrection served as the faith cornerstone of the church.

In light of the Gallup report, how effective can that church be if we remove our stone from its walls?

I don’t know why so many are choosing to leave the organized church. Perhaps, the church has grown too tolerant in some cases; too intolerant in others; too self-righteous to some; and far too political in its extreme.

What I do know is that the cause of Christ is damaged every time one of us says, “I have had enough.”

We are a sinful and imperfect people…both inside and outside the church. When I use that as my measure, viewing the church only as a body of hypocrites, it’s easy to walk away.

I see those in the church as very much like me. Filled with fault. Trying their best to live according to God’s purpose. That’s when I find I most need the church. That’s when I find the church most needs me.

The headline made me think. Why do I stay involved when others choose a different path?

The Bible calls us to corporate worship and good work. We congregate so we can love and be loved. We congregate in order to serve others as Jesus served. In a world that easily rejects everything it means to live for Christ, I need the encouragement of fellow believers to keep from giving in or giving up. I find that encouragement in the gathering of the church.

The writer of Hebrews said it plainly:

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another. (Hebrews 11:24-25)

To be sure, there are many believers of genuine faith who no longer belong to a specific congregation for a variety of reasons. They have given up their habit of meeting together. I don’t question that their faith is real and meaningful. However, I know what I receive by being active and involved in a local congregation. Therefore, I know what they are missing.

As a part of the church, I am loved. With all my faults and mistakes, as a part of the church I am accepted. As a part of the church, I have a place I can serve using the gifts God has given me. As a part of the church, I am taught the things of God. As a part of the church, I know I am where God expects me to be.

We’ve all been hurt by someone in the church at some point in our lives. We’ve all been disappointed and let down. By the same token, we have hurt and disappointed our share of people, I’m sure. Regardless, of how deeply that hurt runs, we cannot abandon the place where God calls us to serve wherever that may be.

You see, my church became the church to me because I became a part of it and, in doing so, it became a part of me…if that makes sense.

To all those believers who have walked away from the for whatever reason, the God needs you now in his church more than ever. Find a place where you can be encouraged. Find a place where you can love and let them love you. Find a place where you can serve God with all the gifts he gave you.

Let us not give up meeting together. Let us keep investing ourselves in his work, participating in his ministry. Now is not the time to walk away. Become a part of a church somewhere that needs your presence and in doing so, let it become a part of you.

Who Will Move the Stone?

Background: Mark 16:1-6

I thoroughly enjoyed studying geography as a child in school. I remember thumbing through the textbook and seeing photographs of places around the world that I never thought I’d see in person.

A couple of years ago, my wife and I traveled with friends throughout Great Britain. On our first day there, I was able to stand in awe, with far too many other travelers, beneath the sarsen stones of Stonehenge. The enigmatic prehistoric monument’s towering rocks visually dominated the landscape, far more massive than I imagined as a child.

Scientists have long known who moved the stones. Only recently did they figure out how the stones were moved and from where they came. A group of scientists from the University of Brighton tracked them down to an area called the West Woods in the county of Wiltshire, about 15 miles north of the Stonehenge.

Moving such massive stones such a great distance is an impressive achievement of human ingenuity. However, Easter tells us a far more impressive story of a stone that was moved just a few feet.

For Christians, the approach of the Easter season brings a heightened sense of awareness of the incredible gift of God’s grace evidenced by Jesus’ voluntary and sacrificial death on the cross. We serve a living savior by virtue of God delivering Jesus from the tomb.

Why is it so hard for some to believe in Jesus as Lord and savior when it feels so natural to me? When I read again this week Mark’s account of the resurrection of Jesus, the answer dawned on me in a frantic question posed by a woman gripped by sorrow.

Jesus had been crucified and buried in a borrowed tomb. By custom and to the relief of the religious leadership, Jesus’ friends and disciples rolled a massive stone into the trench dug just outside the entrance to the tomb. With a thud and a cloud of dust, they sealed it shut. To open the tomb again would take extreme effort.

On the morning of the third day after his death, Mark tells us that Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome brought the necessary spices to finish the burial process. As they walked to the tomb, still deeply in mourning, one of them stopped in her tracks when a random thought crystalized in her brain. She called in frantic distress to the others,

“Who will move the stone from the entrance of the tomb?”

With the light of a new day breaking on the horizon, it dawned upon them that they, alone, would be unable to roll the stone from its buried position. They would be unable to finish tending to the body of Jesus.

You know the story, though. God took care of that need. He rolled the stone away to allow a risen Jesus to leave behind his folded grave clothes and exit into the light of a new day. As the angel sitting by the tomb told the women,

“You’re looking for Jesus, the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen!

“He is risen!” Those words stand as the cornerstone of our faith. “He is risen, indeed!

I’ve read that story every year since I was a child. Every year. Not once in all those years did I give more than a flicker of thought to the stone. Until now. Let me share three things.

First, it occurs to me that at one point in my life, the stone of ignorance and indifference sealed the tomb of my heart. I could feel the tug of the Holy Spirit on my life, but for me to see Jesus as the risen Lord, someone moved the stone. My parents. My family. My Sunday School teachers. My pastor. They moved the stone. Because they did the heavy lifting, Jesus became real to me. Alive in my heart. My risen Lord. I am eternally grateful.

Second, there remains a heavy stone on the tomb of the hearts of those for whom Easter means nothing but eggs and chocolate bunnies. The stone that seals the tomb comes in all shapes and sizes. Perhaps it is a stone of rebellion against the faith of their parents.

For others, their hearts remained blocked by the stones of despair and discouragement. Spiritual blindness. Fear. Impatience. Greed. Envy. Selfishness. Whatever its origin, these stones prevent them from accepting Christ as savior? Keeps them from seeing the risen Lord.

You and I have the burden of moving the stone. Through our witness. Through our words. Through our lives. Only when we move the stone can they see Easter through a different lens. Only then do they have a chance to feel the soothing salve of God’s grace.

There was one final thought that came to my mind. For those of us who have experienced our personal Christ…for those redeemed by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus…the story of the cross and resurrection is a happy ending to a tragic story. One so familiar that we take it for granted. When the miraculous gift of Easter becomes ordinary and routine…when we let the stone roll back and block the tomb again and again, we forget that the happy ending is really the beginning.

If you are anything like me, there have been times in your life when you let the stone roll back until it settles heavily in its slot, sealing the entrance to the tomb and hiding us for a time from the face of the Jesus Christ. If we found our way back to him, it’s because someone again had to move the stone. Parents. Family. Sunday School teachers. Pastors. Friends. They came to my rescue time and time again.

The faithfulness of those who moved the stone for me encourages me to do the same for any struggling Christian friend.

There is some Christian brother or sister you know today who is struggling through the difficulties of life to see again the risen Lord. From the depths of their despair they cry out, “Who will move the stone?”

When that opportunity comes to us, I pray that we will dig our feet into the soil, wedge our shoulders against the cold stone and push.

Our Spiritual Vaccination

Background Passage: Mark 12:28-36, Proverbs 6:16-19, Romans 6:23, Philippians 4:8

One year ago this week, my wife and I traveled to Washington D.C., with our son’s family. We left amid a growing fear of global pandemic none of us really understood. By the time we finished our five days walking the nation’s capital, the World Health Organization label Covid-19 as a “global pandemic.” We arrived home to a vastly different world.

Over the last two weeks my wife and I have both received the first of our two Covid-19 vaccinations and are eagerly awaiting the second. By the end of the month we will be fully immunized against the coronavirus. I don’t know that we expected to feel such a sense of relief after receiving only one dose. I’m hoping the second shot gives us an even greater sense of peace.

I don’t pretend to know exactly how the vaccine works. I’m grateful for the scientists and doctors who do. I do know that the vaccine stimulates the production of white blood cells that attack the virus at the point of infection and block the virus from infecting other cells in my system.

The vaccine helps my body produce T-lymphocytes (memory cells) that hang around in my body in case the same virus tries to return. If that’s not exactly how it works, it is explanation enough for my limited understanding of biology and the human body. I just trust that it works.

I’m not naive. I know every pharmaceutical company rushes to produce a vaccine knowing it will make them a lot of money. Free enterprise. I want to believe though that the scientists and doctors who do the research and develop the countermeasures to defeat a new virus do so because they hate to see the suffering it causes.

Just as those doctors hate a virus that causes physical suffering and death, God hates the sin that causes spiritual suffering and death. Work with me while I try to build something here.

The late Rev. Billy Graham once wrote that God’s love for man prompts him to hate sin with a vengeance. He wrote, “I tell you that God hates sin just as a father hates a rattlesnake that threatens the safety and life of his child…God loathes with a holy abhorrence anything that would hinder our being reconciled to him, wrote Graham.”

So what specifically does God hate? The writer of Proverbs laid out a list of things God detests.

“These six things the Lord hates, yes, seven that are detestable to him: A haughty eye, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.” (Proverbs 6:16-19)

Consider all these things a spiritual virus that infects the human soul with devastating and eternal results. Then, consider how rampant are each of these sins in our culture and society today. Arrogance. Deceitfulness. Murder. Hatred. Wickedness. Evil. Discord. The Covid-7 of the spirit.

These viruses are at the heart of our cultural dissonance and discontent, making this world more sin sick with each passing day. How eye-opening and frightening would it be to see these sinful attitudes charted on the nightly news. Billions infected. Millions hospitalized. Far too many dying in the sin of their choosing.

It paints a pretty dismal picture.

The good news for the world is that God long ago developed a spiritual vaccine to ward off the spiritually deadly virus of sin. The surest vaccine against the ravages of sin is putting one’s faith and trust in Jesus Christ as Lord.

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ, our Lord.(Romans 6:23)

Here’s how that vaccine works. It changes and protects the heart. Like the T-lymphocytes, God’s spirit stays with us and in us convicting and convincing us of the sin we’re allowing to creep into our hearts.

Paul says the vaccine changes our attitudes and thoughts by attacking those sins that invade our hearts with their positive counterparts. He told the Philippian church:

“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 excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

As much as he detests those notorious sins, don’t you know God loves these things all the more?

For this spiritual vaccine to work best we must take two shots that enable us to change our attitudes and our hearts. It’s a lesson Jesus taught an inquisitive Pharisee. You’ll find the story in Mark 12:28-34.

The teacher of the law came to Jesus, standing in the background as the Sadducees tried their best to trap Jesus with specious arguments and innuendo. Jesus saw right through them. Their questions were insincere, yet Jesus tried to enlighten them to the truth of his teaching. They just didn’t get it. The Pharisee, however, was beginning to see more clearly.

At a break in the conversation, the Pharisee in the background came forward, impressed with Jesus’ words. He had a question of his own. A good question. No intention to trap Jesus. Just a honest effort to pick his brain. To understand.

“Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

Jesus leaned back against the wall and looked intently into the man’s eyes, gaining a measure of his character and intent. Seeing the honesty in his heart, Jesus answered.

“The most important one is this. ‘Hear, O Israel. The Lord our God; The Lord is one. Love the Lord our God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’”

Bam! There it is! Shot 1 of our spiritual vaccination. To avoid those things that God hates, we must inoculate ourselves against them by focusing our love on the God who first loved us. Totally. Completely. With all that we are. In every aspect of life. Without hesitation. Without reservation. Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength.

For we cannot succumb to arrogance if we are loving God with our everything. We cannot easily condone wickedness nor practice it in our own lives, if God is Lord…the boss of our lives. We cannot manipulate the truth, pass along lies as truth; we cannot sow discord among God’s people, if we focus our heart, mind, strength and soul on the will of God in our lives.

Jesus knew that loving God was the first and most critical step. Yet, he knew it was just the beginning. To be fully vaccinated in spirit, however, we can’t stop there. Jesus didn’t. With barely a pause to see if his first statement hit home, Jesus spoke again to the Pharisee.

“The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no greater commandment than these.”

Shot 2. Just like the medical vaccine, this one has a few side effects. Some of us might feel a l little queasy afterward. It might initially make us uncomfortable.

When we open our hearts to Christ, we find it easy to love God with all we are until we understand that he requires us to love those who disagree with us. Those who look different than us. Those who don’t typically walk in our circle. Yet, his love in us gives us the capacity to open our eyes, to expand our circle to include everyone with whom we come in contact.

Jesus permanently linked together loving God and loving our neighbor, whomever that might be, as the greatest of all his teachings. He knew if we do those things well, sin, our spiritual coronavirus, will never gain a firm foothold on our lives.

That’s the good news of the Bible. As deeply as God hates the sin, he loves the sinner. He sent his son to die so that we might live. The ultimate spiritual vaccine, taken in two inseparable doses, exemplified in our love for God and our love for those around us.

I’m glad I’ve been vaccinated. How about you?