Category: Bible Studies

Can These Dry Bones Live?

Background Passages: Ezekiel 37:1-10; John 4:13-14, Isaiah 42:5

When my sons were children, we enjoyed visiting my parents on the 1,000 acres Dad farmed for much of his life. My boys loved going to the farm to visit their grandparents and to go on their “explores.”

Once they were old enough to be on their own, we told them they could wander the farm wherever they wanted to go as long as they could still see the house. In the broad reaches of the Texas South Plains, that gives two boys a fair amount of freedom.

My Dad kept about 20 head of cattle on a 30-acre grassland pasture, sloping down a modest hill. At the far end of the pasture was a playa lake. For those not accustomed to West Texas, a playa lake is a low spot in the surrounding countryside, typically dry, that collects run-off from those occasional West Texas rains. Most of them were formed when vast herds of buffalo that once grazed the grassland would wallow in the mud to cool down from the oppressive heat.

My boys would walk the pasture in search of artifacts they could collect. Usually, they would come back to the house with an odd collection of bolts, tin cans and rocks.

It was an exciting day, indeed, when they uncovered the dried bones of some long-dead rabbit, skunk or snake. They were most proud the day they returned with a cow’s skull that probably belong to poor Bessie who died at some point during my childhood.

If you spent any time at all walking in that dry playa lake, you could spot the bleached-out cow bones strewn across the dried lakebed by rain or coyote. A graveyard of white, dry, dusty bones.

Think Ezekiel.

For over 100 years, the Jews, the chosen people of God, endured captivity in Egypt. Through a series of miraculous events, God brought them into the Promised Land and gave them a home and a king. He made them a nation again. As they always seemed to do, Israel rebelled, turning against their heavenly father.

As a result, God allowed them to be conquered again. Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian horde invaded Israel. They defeated its army, reduced Solomon’s Temple to ashes, and took many of the Jewish people back to Babylon as captives.

The nation of Israel was dead, a valley of dried bones. God did not want them to stay that way. When our spiritual marrow is dry, God doesn’t want us to stay that way either. There is a lesson to be learned from Ezekiel’s experience.

“The hand of the Lord was one me and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and sat me in the middle of a valley. And it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great number of bones in the valley, bones that were very dry.

“He asked me, ‘Son of Man, can these bones live?’

“I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.’

“Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!’

“This is what the Sovereign Lord says to them, ‘I will make breath enter you and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin. I will put breath into you and you will come to life. Then you will know I am Lord.’

“So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked and the tendons and flesh appeared upon them and skin covered them, but there was no breath among them.’

“Then, he said to me, ‘Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, Son of Man and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says, ‘Come breath, from the four winds, and breathe into these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied the way he told me, and breath entered them, and they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.’” (Ezekiel 37:1-10)

The valley of dry bones in Ezekiel’s vision reflected the spiritual condition of God’s people. Their defeat at the hands of the Babylonians left them discouraged, down and defeated. In verse 11, they cried out to God saying,

“Our bones are dry. Our hope is lost and we ourselves are cut off!”

The hopelessness grew less from their current condition and more from the fact that they long ago lost their passion for the things of God. They were at the end of their rope, blind to the possibilities of what God could do for them. There was no future. Only a today, filled with misery and hopelessness.

Once so full of vitality and vigor, a picture of God’s presence and power, they took their focus off God. Did their own thing. Drifted away from the father. Their bones were dry.

It’s not unusual as God’s people to find ourselves in what feels like an endless spiritual desert…our faith feeling dry and lifeless. Most of the time, these dry spells don’t come out of nowhere. Circumstances beyond our control dry our bones, leave our faith parched. Choices we make that lead us into the desert, sap our souls of strength, making our trust in God waver and wither.

Sometimes, we get so busy doing things, even good things, that our worship becomes rote and routine, half-hearted and half-felt. Complacency overtakes us, leaving us thirsting for what we’ve lost. In times like these our prayers never seem to rise above the roof. We stare blankly at the pages of our Bible, if we open the pages at all. Our spiritual lives gather dust as the moisture is sucked from our marrow and our bones lay drying in the wilderness.

How closely does this match your life experiences? You look into your life and it’s messy. Every outcome you can see just adds to the confusion and hopelessness. Each wrong step leads to another. Whether caused by random chance or personal choice, it feels like everything has gone wrong. Now, you find yourself blind to the possibilities of what God can do. Your bones are dry.

When you look at your circumstance and all you see is an arid valley of dead, dry bones, it’s hard to imagine life beyond the desert. Hear God ask you the same question he asked Ezekiel. “Can these bones live again?”

What is your answer?

Ezekiel’s response was an honest one. “I don’t see how, but if there is any hope at all, it comes from you, God.” And, that’s as much as God needs to turn things around…just a glimmer of faith in his compassion and love. In the middle of the turmoil in our lives, can we say, “Lord, it’s up to you. I put my life in your hands.”

It is an act of surrender to the will of God. Easier said than done, I know.

God tells Ezekiel to preach a message to the dry bones…our dry bones. The first thing he asks the prophet to tell them…to tell us…is to “Hear the word of God.”

When we’re struggling, when our faith seems dry and stale, we need only to hear the word of God. I don’t mean just sit in the sanctuary while the preacher preaches. I mean really hearing what God is telling you. Listen and obey. When we’re spiritually thirsty, we need to swim in the water of God’s word.

“So then, faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17)

Jesus sat by a well in the heart of Samaria in deep conversation with a woman in need of living water. He told her,

“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)

God’s word gives life. It gives clarity. It gives peace. All we must do is listen and obey the will of the one who loves us enough to die in our place. Drink it in. Refresh our bones.

Ezekiel gives us one more thought to consider. Beyond hearing the full word of God, he tells us to allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives. It is the spirit of God who gives our dry bones breath. Listening to God’s word is a great start at bringing our bones together, but we need the spirit within us to bring us to life. It is the Holy Spirit who takes the word of God and gives it the power to give life to a broken heart and a struggling soul.

Allowing the spirit to live within us, lets God give us the chance to be a living instrument to share is grace and to be his hands at work in a hurting world. To be an oasis in a desert of dry bones.

“Thus says God, the Lord, ‘the creator of the heavens and stretched them out, who spreads out the earth and all that springs from it, who gives breath to its people and spirit to those who walk on it: I have called you to righteousness…” (Isaiah 42:5)

Breathe it in. Be right with God. Maybe it’s time to begin living again.

I believe that is a great word of encouragement for those who are struggling today to live out the life God has planned for them. Whether that person is you, me or someone you know. The answers lie in God’s word and in the presence of his spirit in the heart of those who believe and trust in Jesus.

Can these dry bones live?

I believe they can. I’m living proof.

Lukewarm Isn’t Good Enough

Background Passages: Revelation 3:14-22; Colossians 4:16-17

An old German joke tells of a young couple who adopted a baby. For the first five years of his life the little boy never said a word. Doctors told them there was no physical reason for his silence. Taking him to the psychotherapist also proved fruitless.

On his eighth birthday, the mother baked a lasagna, his favorite meal. After taking a bite, the boy said in perfect German, “Mother, this lasagna is a tad lukewarm.”

The parents were, of course, shocked that he suddenly spoke. “Why have you never said anything before?” they asked.

The boy replied, “Up to now, everything had been fine.”

I tend to agree with the boy. There is nothing fine about being lukewarm. Lukewarm food just isn’t as flavorful. Lukewarm water isn’t as refreshing. Even more seriously, being a lukewarm in our Christian walk is an affront to God.

This week’s Bible study is the last in my study of the seven churches in Revelation. The previous six of those seven churches did some things well. Each of the six fell short in one way or another. Jesus praised them for that which they did well and encouraged them to fix what was broken in their faith walk with God.

It seems clear that the Apostle Paul spent some time in ministry at Laodicea. Whether he founded it or not, a church grew in the thriving community. He wrote letters to the churches in Colossae and Laodicea asking them to exchange the communication they each received with one another. While we have the letter to the Colossians in our Bibles, the letter to the Laodiceans was lost to time.

Christian tradition says that the church in Laodicea flourished and grew initially, both in faith and numbers, drawing its members from the wealthy citizens of the city. However, the church that once prospered apparently lost its zeal.

Paul seemed to see the beginning of this downward slide when he asked the church in Colossae to remind Archippus, who some scholars say had pastoral ties to Laodicea, to “See to it that you complete the ministry you have received from the Lord.” (Colossians 4:16-17) Evidently, the minister and members had grown complacent amid their success.

Now, 30 years later in John’s writing of Revelation, Jesus offered a stern rebuke to the Laodicean church for failing to live up to the standard asked of them. They were lukewarm Christians in need of a wake up call.

“These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.

“Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” (Revelation 3:14-20)

By his words, Jesus quickly establishes himself as the one with the authority to judge their behavior. He calls himself “the Amen, the faithful and true witness.” When we used “amen” at the end of a prayer, we’re saying, “let it be so,” “let it be truth.” Jesus is telling the Laodiceans, the word I am about to share with you is truth. I am witness to your behavior. What I say is beyond dispute.

His word is a harsh indictment of the vitality of their faith and the sincerity of their work.

“I know your deeds.”

The “ruler of God’s creation” as he is described in verse 14, knows exactly where their hearts are. He sees the work they are doing and finds nothing refreshing in their relationships with others… nothing comforting in their deeds. He says, “…you are neither cold nor hot.”

It was a phrase the Laodiceans would have clearly understood. The city was built on a plateau. As such it had no natural water source. Because of the importance of the city along major trade routes, the Romans supplied the city with water via a series of aqueducts from hot springs of Hierapolis, just across the Lycea River, and the cold springs of Colossae about six miles away.

By the time the water arrived from these two cities, the hot water became tepid. The cold water grew lukewarm. The hot water was no longer physically soothing. The cold water no longer refreshing.

Such was the nature of the Laodicean church. Their service to their community brought no comfort to others. Their words lacked meaning and no longer refreshed the hearts of those who were hurting.

Though he wishes they were hot or cold, Jesus finds them a disgusting lukewarm at best. Tepid in their love for others and their service to those in need.

“Because you are lukewarm, I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”

The problem in the church might have been born from the independence of the city itself. Laodicea was among the wealthiest and most self-sufficient cities in the Roman world. In AD 60, an earthquake devastated Laodicea and the region surrounding it. When the Caesar’s government offered financial assistance to rebuild the city, Laodicea refused the help. Wealthy enough to rebuild on their own, they wanted no help from anyone else.

Jesus alluded to as much in his condemnation of the church when he quoted their own words. “You say ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’”

Perhaps the early success of the church, its growth in numbers and prosperity, cause it to trust its own ability rather than to depend upon God. As a result, they went through the motions of being God’s church, but they did not make God a part of their work. There was no passion for sharing the gospel. No desire to comfort the hurting. They grew comfortable in their own fellowship, content to stay behind their own walls rather than share the good news of Christ’s love.

Laodicea was noted for its financial institutions, its textile manufacturing and for its medicinal eye salve it produced. Jesus alludes to all three of these things in his words of advice.

“Buy from me gold refined in the fire so you will become rich. Buy white clothes to wear so you can cover your shameful nakedness. Buy salve to put on your eyes so you can see.”

The self-sufficient church in Laodicea lost its way. It lost its faith and needed it to be refined in purity again, placing their trust in God alone. The spiritually naked church needed to cloth itself in righteousness, taking on the character of Christ. The church in Laodicea grew blind to its own spiritual poverty and shame. They could not see their own sin nor did they wish to open their eyes to the possibility that they were not doing what God required of them. They needed to treat their eyes so they could see again the work God had for them.

As Shakespeare would say, “There’s the rub.” I look at the Laodicea church and see myself as a member. Proudly self-sufficient. Believing I can do all things on my own. Thinking that I’ll save God for the major things in life, times when I need him most. I can handle the rest without his help.

We are told throughout scripture that we are to become more like Christ every day. That God desires us to be in right relationship with him. Righteous in our character and our actions. It’s not something I do well every day.

Though there is always a part of me that knows I’m growing distant from God and not living the life he asks of me, I sometimes prefer being blind to that truth. When I refuse to see my own sin as that big a deal, it erodes the very foundation upon which my faith in Christ is built.

Like the folks in the church in Laodicea, I go through the motions of my faith without passion for Christ and without really touching anyone’s life for Christ.

Biblical scholar William Barclay wrote, “The one attitude the Risen Christ unsparingly condemns is indifference.” When Christ matters to us less than our pocketbooks, when the hurts of others matter less to us than our own needs, our faith becomes irrelevant…a lukewarm manifestation of God in us with little ability to restore or refresh.

The Old Testament prophet Hosea used several colorful comments to point out the unhealthy state of Israel’s relationship with God during the reign of Jeroboam II. In Hosea 7:8 he said, “Ephraim is a cake not turned.” In other words, Israel’s faith is half-baked. Lukewarm.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be seen by God or anyone else as a half-baked, lukewarm Christian. So, I look at the words Jesus shared with the church at Laodicea and take note. He told them, “Be earnest and repent.”

When I find myself lacking passion for my faith, when my life is anything but refreshing and restoring, I need to earnestly approach the throne of grace seeking forgiveness for relying on my own wisdom rather than the wisdom of “the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the rule of God’s creation.” I must turn from my own self-sufficiency and put my trust in his will and way. While that’s easier said than done, it is the only way to get back to living in right relationship with him and with others.

The really neat thing is that even if my indifference and apathy drives Jesus to the point of wanting to vomit me from his mouth, he will never give up on me. He will convict me of my sin because he loves me. He will allow me to suffer the consequences of my sin as his loving discipline…to teach me how he wants me to live. And when I am honest in my desire to turn back to him, he stands ready to forgive my failings and put me on the right path.

“Here I am!” Jesus told the Laodiceans as he tells me. “I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and he with me.”

Forgiveness. Grace. Relationship. That’s what he offers everyone. All I must do is open the door and yield my life complete to him.

Ezra Taft Benson, the secretary of the United States Department of Agriculture during the Eisenhower administration, once spoke about the Bible’s greatest commandment. He said, “To love God with all your heart, all your mind, all your soul and all your strength is all-consuming and all-encompassing. It is no lukewarm endeavor.”

I don’t know where you are in your walk with Christ. All I know is that sitting comfortably in the tepid waters of a lukewarm faith, does nothing for you and nothing for the kingdom of God. My desire for you is the same as what I desire for myself…That our faith be hot enough to heal those who are hurting spiritually and cold enough to refresh the thirstiest of those whom God loves so deeply.

He’ll Leave the Light On For You

Background Passages: Revelation 3:7-12, Isaiah 22:17, Matthew 23:13, John 10:7-10

Holiday Inn-Express is our hotel of choice when we’re traveling in the United States. We’ve stayed in that chain often enough that we generally know what we’re going to get when we arrive.

These smaller, convenience hotels began to spring up about 15 years ago. Now, if one opens in your area, you can almost be assured others will build within a three-block radius.

As one with a background in advertising, I know you measure the effectiveness of an ad campaign by sales and market position. While they didn’t sway me, I always enjoyed the Motel 6 ads.

Motel 6 is a motel franchise with over 1,000 locations that started in Santa Barbara, California, in 1962 as a lower cost alternative to Holiday Inn. Motel 6 may be best known for its series of commercials that aired beginning in the mid-1980s. I’m sure you remember them.

The motel chain hired National Public Radio personality Tom Bodet to read the commercial script because of his warm and friendly vocal style. When he made the first commercial, Bodet extolled the virtues of the motel’s hospitality and warmth. Then, he ad-libbed and unscripted line, “We’ll leave the light on for you.”

The slogan was an instant and lasting success, winning the grand prize at the Radio Mercury Awards. More importantly to the franchise owners, it boosted sales and market share.

There was something comforting in the slogan. “We’ll leave the light on for you” reassured travelers that they would be welcomed and accepted. That there would be a room for them.

That’s one of the joys about being a Christian. When you put your faith and trust in Christ, you know where you’re going and you know Jesus will be there to welcome you. Still, it’s nice to hear a word of reassurance from time to time.

I’m near the end of my study of the seven churches to whom Jesus spoke in the second and third chapters of Revelation. The brief letter to the church at Philadelphia is all about reassurance. It’s as if Jesus is telling us, “We’ll leave the light on for you.”

It’s a good word to hear. Let’s look at the passage.

“These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have but a little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. I will make those who are of the synagogue of Satan, who claim to be Jews though they are not, but are liars—I will make them come and fall down at your feet and acknowledge that I have loved you. Since you have kept my command to endure patiently, I will also keep you from the hour of trial that is going to come on the whole world to test the inhabitants of earth. I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown. The one who is victorious will make a pillar in the temple of my God, the new Jerusalem, which is coming down out of heaven from my God, and I will also write on them my new name.” (Revelation 3:7-12)

Philadelphia, founded in 150 B.C. by King Attallus of Pergamum, whose nickname was Philadelpius, meaning “lover of a brother.” The king was noted for his deep affection for his brother Eumenes. Oddly enough, driven by a king’s ego, he named the city after himself to honor his love for his brother.

The church in Philadelphia is a little unique from the seven churches because it is the only one for which the Lord levels no complaint. Despite some serious attacks from the local synagogue, they remained faithful.

The Jews from the “synagogue of Satan” made life miserable for the Christians in Philadelphia. The Jews in the city had unwittingly aligned themselves with Satan and had little use for this offshoot religion of the one they felt was a false Messiah.

The Jews claimed to be spiritual descendants of Abraham, worthy of the blessings of God, when they were only ethnic descendants. Their attitude toward the truth of God and his new revelation in Christ was far removed from Abraham’s unwavering faith.

The Jews had Moses and the Law. The Jews had David. The Jews had God’s promises. To the Jews, these Christians were unclean Gentiles, pretenders and corrupters of truth.

Undoubtedly, these Philadelphia Christians experienced the same personal and economic hardships inflicted upon them by the Jews as did other early congregations. They were ostracized from the community, pressured and slandered, and labeled as political enemies of Rome because they would not worship Caesar.

Despite the opposition they faced, they endured. Jesus praised them for their perseverance while acknowledging their situation. Look at his words.

“I know your deeds…I know you have but a little strength.”

Jesus was not condemning them for being weak in faith. He was proud of them for remaining faithful when they were almost powerless to do anything about the opposition that confronted them. Small in numbers and influence, they had little ability to counter the hostility they faced. No political leverage. No social standing. Everything was stacked against them, yet they endured it all without sacrificing their faith.

These Christians from Philadelphia were hammered day in and day out by the Jews saying they were God’s chosen people…That God loves the Jews and them only…That God has no place for those who profess a faith in Jesus.

Though they never denied their faith in Christ, don’t you imagine these early Christians needed to hear a word of reassurance?

“You have kept my word and not denied my name.”

Don’t we all hope Jesus could write those words about us? The Philadelphian Christians heard that word. It’s as if Jesus was whispering in their ears, “I know you. You made your reservation when you believed in me. And, even if you’re not sure right now, I know where you’re going. I’ll leave the light on for you.”

That’s what all that verbiage about holding the key of David and the open and shut doors means. Jesus reminds them that he is the fulfillment of prophecy. Isaiah 22:17 says,

“I will place on his shoulder the key to the house of David. What he opens, no one can shut, and what he shuts, no one can open.”

During the first Jesus and his followers battled the Pharisees about the true faith. Jesus used a similar thought to condemn the Jewish religious leaders.

“But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. For you neither enter yourselves nor allow those who would enter to go in.” (Matthew 23:13)

The Pharisees acted as gatekeepers to God’s kingdom. While they would not allow others to enter the kingdom, they never walked through the door either.

Jesus called himself the door in the third of his “I am” statements in John.

“I am the door (gate) for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the door (gate); whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” (John 10:7-10)

Jesus offers reassurance to the battered souls of Philadelphia. Jesus has the key to the house of David. He sits on the throne. When he opens a door neither the Jews nor Caesar can shut it. If Jesus shuts the door, neither the Jews nor Caesar can open it. Jesus tells them, “I know you don’t have the political clout to stop the harassment, but, in the end, I hold the key. I’m at the door.” They are powerless against him.

I’d like to say I’ve never needed to hear God’s calm reassurance in my own life. I’d like to say I’ve never had others throw up arguments against my faith that left me questioning my eternal destiny. I’d like to say that, but it would not be true. Those who argue against faith can be convincing at times.

When pressured by opposing forces to abandon our faith, when it feels we wield so little influence against those whose influence seems so powerful, our hope is that we would respond as the Christians in Philadelphia responded…by keeping his word with absolute obedience to the teachings of Christ and by never denying the name of Jesus.

Jesus holds the key and stands at the open door. Nothing man can do or say and no one with earthly power and influence can hinder those who believe from entering the kingdom of God. That’s a word of reassurance we all need to hear at times.

How do we feel that sense of reassurance when everyone else is telling us we’re wrong? Jesus told the Christians in Philadelphia and he tells us, I think, three things.

“Since you have patiently endured, I will keep you from the hour of trial…”

Trials will come. All of us get to experience them. When we keep his word and honor his name, when we persevere through tough times, God keeps those tough times from being worse than they could be. He walks beside us and with us. He protects us from some of the ugliness of life because our eyes are focused on him.

“I am coming soon. Hold fast to what you have so no one will take your crown…”

I’ve never worried too much about the second coming of Christ. He will come when he comes. In God’s eternal time frame “soon” is a relative term.

My task is to “hold fast.” To hang on to his teachings and live life accordingly. I am to be so grounded in his word that no one can persuade me to abandon my faith (take my crown).

“The one who is victorious will make a pillar in the temple of my God, the new Jerusalem, which is coming down out of heaven from my God, and I will also write on them my new name.” (Revelation 3:7-12)

None of that makes as much sense in this context without knowing the whole of Revelation. Near the end of the book, John is sharing more of his vision of God’s kingdom as his temple and the New Jerusalem. It is a vision about being sealed within his protective care for all eternity. Jesus promised the church in Philadelphia. He promised us. Every believer has a home waiting for them. We are citizens of this heavenly city.

So, we find comfort when we endure the trials with him beside us. We find encouragement when we hang tough in the face of spiritual opposition. We find hope and reassurance when we understand that he has promised us a place in his kingdom.

When I read this passage in Revelation, that’s the line that kept jumping into my head. Jesus, speaking in that warm and friendly vocal style, reminds us that he his holding the door open. He praises the faithful for being obedient and never denying his name. Then, he urges all of us to hold on until he comes again, whenever that may be, with a simple reminder, “I’ll leave the light on for you.”

It is the promise that I know where I’m going. I know I’ll have a warm room waiting for me. I thank God I can see the light.

Remember and Rejoice

Background Passages: Revelation 3:1-6; Matthew 23:27-28, Psalm 51:10-12, 15

In the days when wooden ships sailed the seas carried along by the wind, those sailors who crossed the equator entered a region known for extended periods of calm, absent any breeze strong enough to so much as ripple the sails. The dreaded doldrums.

The doldrums is a region where trade winds of the northern and southern hemisphere converge about five degrees north or south of the equator. The old sailing vessels caught in the doldrums could sit unmoving for days and weeks while supplies dwindled and hope faded, waiting for a promising breeze to drive them along their way.

In The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, Thomas Coleridge described the effect.

Day after day, Day after Day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion.
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

For these ancient sailors, being stuck in the doldrums tested their endurance and left them feeling more dead than alive. Coleridge’s description is a good picture of the church in Sardis as described by Jesus in the third chapter of Revelation.

For the past several weeks, my personal Bible study has focused on the relevant lessons gleaned from the experiences of seven first century churches. Most of those churches earned praise from Jesus for some aspect of their faith, but garnered a word of rebuke or caution for areas in which they struggled.

In Sardis, the church earned no praise. They garnered only rebuke from Jesus for becoming little more than that painted ship on a painted ocean. A shadow of what they should be.

Scripture says the church in Sardis held a stellar reputation for being vibrant and healthy. Their good work of the past earned them appreciation from those outside the congregation based upon what they had once done. I suspect its reputation also gave the congregation a false sense that they were still doing that which God asked of them.

From God’s point of view, however, their faith and witness were in the doldrums. No wind in their sails. Unmoving. Stagnant.

“…I know you deeds. You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of my God.” (Revelation 3:1-2)

Despite all they had done for Christ in the past, regardless of how well they once loved and care for each other and those in need around them, their work now settled into a routine that was more ritual than righteous. More obligation than grace.

As they went through the motions of ministry, those on the outside looking in could see little difference in their behaviors and actions, however, Jesus saw into their hearts. What he saw disappointed the Father.

The word the Christians in Sardis heard from Jesus was a spiritual wake up call. He told them to “strengthen what remains.” The glimmer of God’s spirit within in them needed to be released again. He urged them to let the spirit move again. To raise their sails and catch the wind.

Jesus saw this same spiritual doldrums in the Pharisees, despite their outward display of piety. The facade of righteousness they created appeared beautifully painted, but under the glimmering paint, the building was rotting from the inside out.

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inwardly are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. Even so, you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” (Matthew 23:27-28)

This is no way to live, according to the words of Jesus. He tells the church in Sardis to wake up before it is too late.

“…but if you do not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come.” (Revelation 3:3b)

Those words from Jesus served as a brutal reminder of past failures. Sardis prided itself as an impenetrable fortress. Built on a hill with steep cliffs on three sides, there was only one way into the city and it was easily defended.

However, twice in its long history, an enemy defeated Sardis by scaling the cliffs at night while no one kept watch. Jesus warned them that judgment would surely come like a thief scaling the walls at night if they failed to turn back to God.

For this church in the doldrums, Jesus told them to remember. To go back to the beginning of their faith. To do the things they had been taught to do.

“Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard. Hold it fast and repent.” (Revelation 3:3a)

Taught all they needed to know, the church at Sardis simply had to be obedient to God’s will, not out of a sense of obligation, but out of the joy of their salvation. To see and feel the breeze blowing again in their sails, out of the doldrums and into the active pursuit of God’s will and way.

If I ever needed a reminder of what I have received and heard from God, I felt it last Sunday.

My church has been without a senior pastor for the past 10 months. While we’ve been led capably and effectively by our staff and our interim pastor, a church needs its shepherd.

Last Sunday, South Main Baptist Church in Pasadena, called Daniel Crowther to be it’s next senior pastor. He will joining Dr. B. J. Martin and Dr. Ron Lyles as only the third pastor in our 68-year history.

I want to make it clear, I serve a church genuinely focused on mission and ministry. We have continued to do that work during this interim period. South Main is not a church stuck in the doldrums. It is a blessing from God, however, when a new wind blows into the heart of a church.

I won’t speak for the rest of the congregation (though I think we all shared a similar experience). For me, last Sunday was a celebration of God’s work and blessing in my life. I owe him so much. It was if God use that day and that circumstance to cause me to “Remember what you have received and heard.”

Because of God’s rich blessings in my life, I experienced a new wind…the warm fellowship, songs of praise and worship, the hearing of God’s word proclaimed and the collective excitement of what God is going to do in and through his people at South Main.

When God moves his people, you can’t help but feel it. It is palpable and electric. I felt that this past Sunday and still feel it today. I don’t think I realized how much I needed it.

Though it may not be the exact message intended when this passage was written, I’m grateful for Jesus’ warning to the church in Sardis. May it also serve as a great reminder in my life and to any person or church who desires to feel a fresh wind blowing, a spiritual renewal. Remember the salvation received by God’s grace. Hold it. Dwell on all you have learned about God’s power and love. Remember and rejoice!

The Psalmist got it right when he wrote,

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me…Open my lips, Lord, and my mouth will declare your praise.” (Psalm 51:10-12, 15)

This is my prayer.

Kaizen!

Background Passages: Revelation 2:16-29

The concept of continuous improvement in the work world took hold during Toyota’s initiative to innovate its manufacturing process. The company introduced the term “kaizen,” which, in Japanese, means “change for the better.” In doing so, Toyota focused its employees’ attention on finding ways to improve the business.

Toyota’s success in turning its business around, spread the idea of continuous improvement into almost every aspect of organizational leadership in corporate and institutional culture over the past 25 years.

When introduced, it was not a new concept, however. The early Christian teachers were all over it. Almost all of Paul’s letters to the early church exhorted them to change for the better. To grow continuously in their faith.

“Therefore, let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity, (not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead toward death) and to faith in God…” (Hebrews 6:1)

“When I was a child, I talked like a child. I thought like a child. I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things. For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (I Corinthians 13:10-12)

“…until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:13-16)

The clear call of scripture is to grow in Christ. To put away childish things, the immature thoughts, that allow us to be drawn away from our faith and witness.

For the past several weeks, I’ve focused my Bible study on the seven churches to whom Jesus spoke in Revelation 2. I’ve written about Ephesus, who had such zeal for sound doctrine and holiness, but forgot how to love. The believers in Smyrna showed us how to live faithfully amid suffering. Those Christians in Pergamum stayed faithful in the big things, holding on to their witness for Christ, but flirting with sin in the way they lived.

Take all the good things being done in Ephesus, Smyrna and Pergamum and you’ll see the church in Thyatira. It was a healthy church, growing in spiritual maturity. Diving into the teachings of Christ, they found themselves praised by Jesus for their good deeds, their love and faith, their acts of service to others and their perseverance in the face of difficulty.

It could not have been easy given their circumstances. Thyatira did not carry the same importance in the region as Ephesus or Pergamum. A small craft and trade center known for its dyeing, garment-making, pottery and brassworking. It was governed in large part by its trade guilds. Trade guilds were powerful organizations that made it difficult for a merchant to pursue his or her trade without belonging to one of the guilds.

Each guild in this pagan culture worshipped its own patron deities, complete with feasts and seasonal festivals that often included sexual practices counter to the teachings of Christ. Christians practicing the trade were placed in a compromising position under pressure from the guild to participate in their immoral rituals. Failure to participate meant exclusion from the guild and little to no access to the profitable markets.

Perhaps it was this kind of pressure that compelled Lydia, a God-fearing maker of purple cloth from Thyatira, to resettle in Philippi where she first heard Paul’s preaching and became a follower of Christ.

In the face of such pressure, Jesus put his stamp of approval on the Christians of Thyatira, praising them for their spiritual growth.

“I know your deeds, your love and faith, your service and perseverance, and that you are now doing more than you did at first.” (Revelation 2:19)

Despite the pressures upon them to conform, the church grew in its spiritual maturity. Whatever good works they were doing when they first came to know Jesus, they were now doing more. The love and faith they demonstrated from the beginning of their conversion experience had grown deeper and more inclusive over time. They cared more deeply for each other and those in need, not just through their emotional expressions, but through their kindness, fellowship and sharing of their faith.

Service and ministry became a part of their spiritual DNA. It was who they were. They found ways not only to teach the gospel, but to tend to the sick, feed the hungry and assist those who were struggling financially.

When their faith was challenged, when they found themselves booted from the guild for their refusal to compromise the call of Christ, they leaned on each other. They weathered the storm. They stayed strong.

The great thing about that, according to the words of Jesus, is that all those things they did in the beginning, they were doing in greater measure as time moved on. They adopted Paul’s message to the Ephesians by declaring, “We will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.”

Isn’t that what every Christian life ought to be? A life of constant improvement in which our tomorrow is a better representation of our today? That our lives grow more abundant in all that is good and noble and holy.

We talk about our firm foundation of faith, but what good is the foundation if we don’t build upon it? We talk of the seed that has been planted in us, but what good is it if we never become the tree? We become a branch of the one true vine, but what good is it if we never bear fruit?

All Christians ought to have a growth mindset, to strive tomorrow to be better disciples of Christ than they are today. Paul said as much to his protégé Timothy as he wrote about the pursuit of godliness.

“To this end (godliness) we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the savior of all people, especially of those who believe.” (I Timothy 4:10)

So for every believer in Christ, we live out a demand for “kaizen,” to “change for the better.” What is continuous improvement for the Christian look like? What does it take to change for the better?

A commitment to spiritual growth requires us to develop an honest habit of cultivating those traits exemplified in Christ. Love, which Christ himself declared the greatest of all commands. Faith, a continuous trust and reliance on God and his spirit to guide our decisions and place our steps. Service, our acts of ministry that demonstrate that we can use his teachings to better the lives of others. Perseverance, that desire to ensure that our understanding of the demands of discipleship grow deeper with each life experience and each passing day. That we finish the race we started.

Such was the commitment of the church in Thyatira…that they were now doing more than they did at first. Our commitment must be the same. To continue growing. To change for the better. To begin to understand with each passing day the truth of the old hymn. “The longer I serve him, the sweeter he grows.”

Despite all the good they did and despite all the growth they experienced, all was not right in Thyatira.

“Nevertheless, I have this against you: You tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophet. By her teaching she misleads my servants into sexual immorality and the eating of food sacrificed to idols. I have given her time to repent of her immorality, but she is unwilling. So, I will cast her on a bed of suffering, and I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways.” (Rev. 2:20-22)

Some Bible scholars infer from scripture that these early Christians in Thyatira struggled with living for Christ while the world around them demanded their involvement in the activities of the guild. The idolatrous practices of the guild would have involved immoral sexual practices and pagan religious observances that feasted on meat offered to their idols. For some believers in the city, the temptation to comply with the world’s demands drew them away from their commitment to Christ.

Every generation of Christians faces the same temptation. It is the fine line to “live in the world, but not of the world.” The cause of Christ cannot be served if Christians retreat completely from the rest of society. The lure of unchristian business practices is a constant tug. The temptation to go along to get along, to accept sin as a way of life, is never ending.

As we live out our calling under the watchful eyes of our neighbors, our lives become a testimony to the reality of Christ in our lives. They either see him in the way we live and work or they don’t.

The Jezebel of Thyatira convinced others in the church to conform to the practices of the pagan culture around them. They placed financial considerations over faith principles. True discipleship demands a higher standard of moral conduct.

So, the passage begs the question. Who or what is your Jezebel?

Jezebel is anything or anyone who suggests that you can compromise any aspect of your faith and still be in good standing with a holy God. It is an easy gospel. A convenient faith. We don’t have to listen too hard today to hear the siren call of a “feel good” sermon, steeped in psychology rather than theology.

It’s easy enough to be pulled off course as a growing Christian, but one who does not regularly study God’s word will find it almost impossible to resist the lure of the easy way out. Christians must constantly test what they hear against scripture in an effort to discern God’s truth. Paul lauded as “noble” the men and women of Berea because they searched the scriptures to test whether his message aligned with what was written in the Old Testament.

Our overzealous pursuit of wealth, our misguided ambitions for success in business, our quest for popularity, our desire to fit in…it’s easy to hear Jezebel whispering in our ears, “Go ahead. It doesn’t really matter.” But, in truth, it does matter.

When we slip away from the path God has laid out before us, he calls us to repent. When we stay the course, obedient to his commands, growing in our understanding, he offers this encouragement.

“Now, to the rest of you in Thyatira, to you who do not hold to her (Jezebel’s) teaching and have not learned Satan’s so-called deep secrets, ‘I will not impose any other burden on you, except to hold on to what you have until I come.’” (Rev. 2:24-25)

The lesson of Thyatira applies equally to us today. Kaizen! Get better every day. Grow in spirit and truth. Never stop learning his will and way. You and I will be tempted to give up and give in. When you feel your grip slipping away, listen for his encouragement.

“Hold on to what you have until I come.”

Beware the Slippery Slope

Background Passage: Revelation 2:12-17; John 6:48-50

I knew I was in trouble the minute I saw those Girl Scouts standing by the exit to Lowe’s. I just bought some random piece of hardware needed for a home project. As the glass doors slid open, I read the lips of the older one as she whispered to her friend, “Here’s an easy mark!” She had me pegged from the moment she saw me glance at the table.

“Could we interest you in some Thin Mints, Peanut Butter or Samoa cookies,” she asked as they launched into some pre-rehearsed sales pitch about the virtues of helping her troop get to some distant camp in Iowa. I held my palm up to silence them and reached for my wallet. “You had me at Thin Mints,” I replied as I bought three boxes.

Thin mints and orange juice. It just doesn’t get any more sinful than that.

Satan inspired Thin Mints, as devil disks designed to break one’s will to lose weight and live a healthier lifestyle. I buy them knowing I’m perched at the top of a slippery slope. Once I open that first sleeve…taste that perfect blend of minty freshness and chocolate covering infusing that delectable morsel of pure crunch…I kiss all restraint goodbye. One cookie leads to the whole sleeve. One sleeve leads to one box. It is a slippery slope.

I know eating that first Thin Mint has fewer consequences than other poor life choices I’ve made. It is, however, a nice metaphor for the allure and temptation of sin. Taking that first bite out of sin’s apple is a quick ticket out of the garden of grace. Rarely do I jump in to sin with both feet. More often than not I make a subtle compromise with sin that begins my slide down that slippery slope of disobedience. I think Jesus had this in mind when he spoke through John to the early church in Pergamum.

A slippery slope is an idea or course of action which will eventually lead to additional actions until some undesirable consequence inevitably follows. One domino falls causing another to fall and then another and then another.

John, in the Book of Revelation, heard the voice of Jesus sharing a word with seven churches in what is now modern-day Turkey. Though obedient in doing good, the church in Ephesus forgot their love of Christ and their love for one another. They acted out of a sense of obligation rather than love. In Smyrna, Jesus simply encouraged the church to persevere in the face of the coming persecution. To keep the faith despite the hostility around them.

The church in Pergamum found itself flirting with disaster, standing on a slippery slope of compromise…giving in to the subtle sins that opened the door to deeper depravity. The first domino had already fallen as a few had been led astray. One by one others believers succumbed to their influence.

“These are the words of him who has the sharp, double-edged sword. I know where you live—where Satan has his throne. Yet, you remain true to my name. You did not renounce your faith in men, even in the days of Antipas, my faithful witness, who was put to death in our city—where Satan lives.

“Nevertheless, I have a few things against you: You have people there who hold to the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to entice the Israelites to sin by eating food sacrificed to idols and by committing sexual immorality. Likewise, you also have those who hold to the teaching of the Nicolaitans.

“Repent, therefore! Otherwise, I will soon come to you and will fight against them with the sword of my mouth.

“He who has an ear to hear let him hear what the spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” (Revelation 2:12-17)

Jesus introduced himself to this church as the one with a sharp, double-edged sword, presenting himself as qualified to serve as their judge and jury. The believers in Pergamum did so many things well, despite the harsh culture around them. Jesus praised them for being an oasis of faith surrounding by hostile desert. A light in a dark world.

An historic capital of Asia, Pergamum served as the intellectual center of the region, surpassed in influence only by Athens and Alexandria. The city stood as a religious center with temples, shrines and altars dedicated to Zeus and other Greek gods, including Asklepios, the god of healing. As a result of this particular god, one might consider Pergamum the Mayo Clinic of its day.

To make matters worse for the church, Pergamum embraced the idea of the imperial cult even before Rome did. Its citizens built the first temple to Caesar Augustus in AD 29, proclaiming him a living god. Pergamum became the birthplace of emperor worship. Failure to worship the emperor was a crime punishable by death. Antipas, one of the early church leaders in Pergamum, refused to bow before the emperor and was martyred for his faith.

“I know where you live,” Jesus said. He knew their circumstances. He knew they lived in the shadow of Satan’s throne. Jesus was empathetic to their situation. Temptations and pressure to sublimate their faith for the sake of self-preservation were intensely felt. Surely Antipas was not the sole believer killed by the emperor’s sense of self-importance. One must assume that other Christians lost their lives.

Their faithfulness unto death caught Jesus’ attention. You face death every day, he said, “Yet you remain true to my name.” Despite the ever-present danger to their lives, they would not forsake the name of Jesus.

What a spectacular testimony. Nothing could persuade them to renounce Jesus. Jesus lifted up the church in Pergamum for being faithful in that which mattered most. Sadly, the story doesn’t end there.

Despite their insistence on not bowing down to the emperor, some of them stood on that slippery slope. Some people in the church had, in fact, already taken the plunge. If you’ve just received a word of praise from heaven, the last word you want to hear next is “Nevertheless.” The tone of the passage changes dramatically from one of commendation to condemnation.

“Nevertheless, I have a few things against you.”

Though they were faithful in the big thing, they let the little things seduce them. Some of the folks could not stop at one Thin Mint. They ate one, then ate another and another.

Sin wraps itself in attractive packaging. Covers its hideousness. Disguises its affects. Surrounded by the allure of sin, some of the Christians at Pergamum yielded to temptation. Jesus’ reference to Balaam is an Old Testament Jewish moral tale warning against listening to the siren songs of those who would forget to whom they belonged. Scripture tells us Balaam found a way to seduce Israel away from God, not in some explosive act of disobedience, but by inching step by step toward disobedience until sin’s dominos started to fall one right after another.

In ancient Israel’s case they violated God’s laws by eating meat offered to idols and embraced the sexual immorality prevalent in their culture. I don’t know if these were the specific sins of the Pergamum Christians, but they began to be disobedient in the little things. They confessed a faith in Christ, but didn’t live like it on a daily basis.

In addition, some among the congregation In Pergamum fell victim to false teaching. The Nicolaitans taught a twisted distortion of the gospel. Subtle deviations from gospel that made disobedience permissible. What they practiced was what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace.” Grace that only emphasizes the good or easy parts of the gospel without the truth regarding the more difficult aspects of true discipleship.

Jesus reminded them there is only one solution to sin. He called these wayward Christians to repent. To turn away from the little things they’ve been doing wrong and get their life right with God. Get off that slippery slope and live again the life in Christ to which they had been called.

There are certainly times in my life where I feel like a citizen of Pergamum. To my recollection, I’ve never denied my relationship to Jesus. Never renounced my faith in him. Though challenged from time to time, I can say with Antipas, “He is my Lord.” I am faithful in the BIG thing.

Man, can I identify with those men and women in Pergamum who found themselves on the slippery slope to sin. It’s just so easy to take the first wrong step and find yourself on a path you never intended to take. What we focus on or fret over become or idols, substituting for our dependence on God. It feels easier to walk the well-travelled road of convenience than the narrow path of righteousness. Faith, we feel, just shouldn’t be this hard. So, we compromise. We give in.

Even a cursory look at the actions and beliefs of many Christians yields evidence that they swallowed the lies of the world hook, line and sinker. Sadly, every foray into the shadow is another step down a slippery slope that leads to additional actions until some undesirable consequence inevitably follows. I know. I’ve been there.

Jesus closed his letter to the church in Pergamum with a series of promises to those who overcome the slippery slope despite having to claw their way back up the muddy hillside into the arms of Jesus.

To those overcomers, he offers bread, a stone and a name. I love this metaphor as explained by a pastor friend of mine.

John likely remembered the conversation Jesus had with a crowd he had just miraculously fed. Awed by the miracle and wanting more, they followed Jesus around the Sea of Galilee asking for more. He told them this.

“I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. ” (John 6:48-50)

Jesus is the bread of life. The all-sustaining, eternal manna from heaven. In him we have all we need. We don’t need what the world offers.

He also offered a white stone. The meaning may be less clear, but most commentaries point to the judicial courts that may have handed a white stone to those declared innocent. Other scholars suggested that the white stone may have signified an invitation to a wedding.

Either idea fits within the context of this passage. God’s grace declares the repentant heart innocent of falling down that slippery slope, wiping the slate clean by the forgiveness purchased at the cross. It could be that those who repent find themselves invited again to the feast, to rejoice in a renewed relationship with Jesus.

I like that thought because the stone has my name written on it. It has your name written on it. When we present that stone to Jesus, he knows our name. It stands as a personal invitation to share an intimacy with Jesus that we might otherwise miss.

The symbolism is powerful. Eternal provision and divine satisfaction. A permanent transformation from guilt to innocence. Individual intimacy with the Father.

Those with an ear to hear are told to listen to what Jesus was telling the Christians in Pergamum. He calls us to stand firm. Most of us don’t struggle too much with the faith confession. We struggle with daily conduct, the seduction of compromise.

A look at the church in Pergamum begs the question. Are we also susceptible to the same spiritual schizophrenia? Willing to defend the faith, but failing to see the moral compromises we make?

Let’s pray it is not so. Put the Thin Mints away. Avoid the slippery slope.

To every overcomer, eat a little manna, take hold of that white stone with your name on it and accept the invitation to live in right relationship to the one who loves you so much that he gave his life to compensate for every time you skated that slippery slope.

When Suffering Comes

Background Passages: Revelation 2:8-11, Isaiah 43:2, John 16:33, I Peter 1:6-7

I leaned against the hoe at the end of a quarter-mile row of young cotton, fighting back a fit of anger. My Mom was already 30 feet down the four rows she was hoeing, doing what had to be done.

Dad was on the tractor, plowing a different section of the farm. My older brother stayed in the house that morning “suffering” from his convenient hay fever. My younger sister was given different, and by that I mean easier, chores that didn’t involve the tedium of the hoe.

I begged to stay home that morning using the strongest debate point I could muster, “It’s not fair.”

Rather than the customary sympathy I expected from my Mom, she chopped those weeds as she walked away and said with a shake of her head, “Get used to it.”

“It’s not fair.”

I smile inwardly now when I hear those words from my grandchildren. It’s a truth they must learn the hard way. As much as our culture would like it to be, life isn’t always fair. We should never stop trying to make it more so, but it will never be fair in all aspects.

Adults are not immune to the feeling. Our personal world caves in for one reason or another. A loved one gets sick or injured. A disheartening diagnosis comes our way. A promotion is handed to someone else. Your neighbor seems to live a charmed life where everything works out perfectly.

We may not voice it the same way we did as children, but we feel it. When the hard times come as they inevitably do and will—when we suffer–it’s difficult not to fall back on the pained and plaintive cry, “It’s not fair!”

Being Christian does not immunize us against difficult times. All of us face those deep trials eventually. Isaiah recognized the certainty of hardship and suffering. He also knew suffering could not defeat the faithful child of God if for no other reason than we will not make that journey alone.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Understanding that promise is what keeps the Christian from becoming a victim to the “life is not fair” culture. We can overcome life’s hardships because the one we trust also overcame.

“I have told you these things,” Jesus said, “so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But, take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Long time pastor and author Ray Pritchard recalled preparing for a radio broadcast with Jim Warren on Moody Radio for Primetime America. As they discussed some recent heartbreak, Warren shared this thought. “When hard times come,” he said, “be a student, not a victim.”

Pritchard called it one of the most profound statements he ever heard. He said, “Some people go through life as professional victims, always talking about how they have been mistreated. But perpetual victimhood dooms you to a life of self-centered misery because you learn nothing from your trials.

“A victim says, ‘Why did this happen to me?’ A student says, ‘What can I learn from this?’

“A victim looks at everyone else and cries out, ‘Life isn’t fair.’ A student looks at life and says, ‘What happened to me could have happened to anyone.’

“A victim believes his hard times have come because God is trying to punish him. A student understands that God allows hard times to help him grow.”

I think the church at Smyrna would have understood this. Prior to Easter, my last Bible study focused on the word of God to the church at Ephesus. I mentioned at the time, that I would pick up with the messages to six other churches as found in the book of Revelation. We will focus this week on the Christian church in Smyrna. Though these seven churches are historic congregations, the message Jesus delivered to them through John remains relevant to Christians today.

Smyrna, located about 35 miles north of Ephesus on the Aegean Sea. shared a long and storied history that began as a successful Greek colony 1,000 years before Christ. Raided and razed by the Lydeans around 600 BC, Smyrna ceased to exist for the next 400 years, a pile of ruin and rubble. The city rose from its ashes around 200 BC, rebuilt as a planned community with beautifully paved streets and a perfectly protected harbor.

By the time John writes Revelation, Smyrna is a free city, committed with absolute fidelity to Rome. Cicero called it “one of our most faithful and most ancient allies.” It was the first city in the world to erect a temple to the spirit of Rome and the goddess, Roma. The Roman citizens within the city worshipped the emperor as a god and made worshipping any other deity a serious crime.

Jews earned an exception to the rule primarily by placating the Roman authorities and paying large tribute to the emperor to fund public works. The Jewish population grew increasingly hostile toward the Christians, fearing that they would lose their protected status and privileges.

Christians living in Smyrna suffered severe hardship because of their faith. Having none of the legal protections and refusing to call the emperor a god placed them at odds with Rome and with the Jews. The Christians in Smyrna chose not to bow down to the emperor despite the laws of the land. Rome typically ignored their insubordination in a sort of “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach.

In other words, they didn’t look for Christians to persecute, but would investigate if someone complained. Fearing for their favored status among the Romans, the Jews complained often. And, if they had nothing concrete to go on, they made things up.

When Rome was forced to investigate, Christians who refused to kneel before the emperor would be stripped of their possessions, banned from employment and, in some cases, put to death.

Yet, through their growing difficulties, they remained faithful disciples (students) of Jesus rather than victims to the mounting persecution and problems.

Read Jesus’ words to the “angels of the church in Smyrna:”

“These are the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. I know your afflictions and your poverty—yet you are rich! I know the slander of those who say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.

“Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful even to the point of death and I will give you the crown of life. (Revelation 2:8-10)

What an encouragement these words must have been to a faithful church oppressed!

Jesus describes himself as the First and Last, as the one who died and is alive again. It is upon the foundation of Christ that the church is built. He was the First. Their cornerstone. Their foundation. He was the Last. The Judge. The one before whom all men must stand in judgment of their actions.

Surely, the church in Smyrna found courage and strength in knowing that, regardless of the pressure put upon them by Rome or the Jews, Jesus was their unshakable foundation. As the one who died and is alive again, Jesus proclaimed his powerful presence among them. He would judge those who persecuted them.

Despite their “afflictions and poverty,” Jesus considers them rich! Impoverished by the world’s standards, they lived in the abundance of God’s grace. As his children, they shared in the riches and glory of God’s kingdom.

Despite the dire circumstances, the church in Smyrna refused to give in. Despite their suffering, they persevered. While God found a flaw among most of the seven churches mentioned in Revelation, he could only commend Smyrna for their strength, courage and perseverance amid their troubles.

Jesus told them the suffering would continue. Persecution was inevitable. He told them they would be tried and tested for their faith. He reassured them that the trials and troubles would last only a little while compared to the eternity that awaited them.

So, in the face of hardship and difficulty, Jesus gave them two commands. “Do not be afraid,” he said, “Be faithful, even unto death.” In other words. Don’t worry about what’s happening in your life. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Remain faithful, even if it kills you.

To anyone of us who has experienced the tragedies of life, that’s a difficult pill to swallow. While we might adopt the “one day at a time” attitude just to get through the struggle, it seldom makes sense. I doubt the people in Smyrna understood any better than we do.

How could they not be afraid? Jesus told them early in this passage. “I too was persecuted. I was put to death. Yet, I am alive again.” In essence he told them whatever your suffering may be, remember I overcame death. If you persevere to the end, you will overcome all things. You will overcome death as well. The worst problems and afflictions in this life pale in comparison to the eternal glory which God shares with his people.

My life has been blessed by God. Most of the difficulties I have experienced have been self-imposed. My mistakes. My decisions. My fault. The sorrow and sadness I’ve felt, the pain and suffering that comes as an inevitable part of life has been temporary and intensely overshadowed by God’s blessings.

I also know difficult times are ahead. It is inevitable. I can either declare life unfair and call myself a victim or I can be a student of a persecuted Lord and Savior who endured the worst the world could offer on my behalf. I suspect you feel the same.

Jesus is our unshakable cornerstone and foundation. As a victor over persecution and death, he lives today. His presence in our lives through his Holy Spirit is real and powerful. His comfort flows freely to those who are frightened and hurting.

In the face of all that is unnerving and painful, he tells us the same thing he told the brothers and sisters in Smyrna. Do not be afraid. Don’t let the troubles of this world keep you from living a life of committed service to the one to whom you owe everything. Do not be afraid. Feel the presence of a risen Lord. Cling to the hope he brings.

Be faithful. Focus on that promise of eternal victory and not on the hardships ahead. Though the troubles may seem difficult and long-lasting, their duration is but a vanishing mist when compared to all eternity. Suffering is temporary. Faith is forever.

Jesus told the persecuted people of the church in Smyrna that those who overcome “will not be hurt at all by the second death.” (Revelation 2:11)

The second death. That’s what Jesus called spiritual separation from the father. God’s victory is final. That’s what I know. When the day of judgment comes and God separates the sheep from the goats, his sheep will not be hurt and will not suffer. Those who never trusted in his name will face a spiritual death that separates them from the goodness and grace of God forever.

Pritchard said, “A victim begs God to remove the problems of life so that he might be happy. A student (a disciple of Christ) has learned through the problems of life that God alone is the source of all true happiness.

That’s the true Christian outlook. We believe so much in the sovereignty of God that when hard times come, we know that God is at work for our good and his glory.

One final point, hardships don’t come because God needs to figure out who his true believers are using some spiritual obstacle course. Rather, our ability to endure and persevere because of our faith shines a light on God for the rest of the world to see. Through our pain we prove the true nature of our faith. Those on the outside looking in witness the power, the presence, the goodness and grace of our father in heaven.

“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith…may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus is revealed.” (I Peter 1:6-7)

I read a quote this week from Caleb Suko, a pastor serving in Ukraine. I think he sums up well the message Jesus shared with the believers in Smyrna. It’s the same message we need to hear today.

Suko said, “If you have Christ then all your pain is temporary. If you don’t, then all your pleasure is temporary.”

As the song goes, “I’d rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today.”

 

Who Are You Looking For?

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-23; John 18:3-8, John 20:11-16

It is an essential question for Resurrection Sunday. One that demands an answer.

Jesus had been crucified and buried. The heavy slab of granite rolled into the dugout trench, locked his body inside. From Friday until early Sunday morning, those who followed Jesus lived in a state of shock, numb with fear.

Not knowing anything else to do, the women who were closest to him, returned to his tomb to finish preparing the body for burial. Something Sabbath laws had not allowed them to do when he died. When they arrived, they found the stone rolled away, the burial cloth neatly folded and the body of their teacher nowhere to be seen. In a panic, they ran back to tell Jesus’ disciples.

As the sun burned away the morning dew, Mary Magdalene, compelled by grief and overcome with sadness, returned to the empty tomb. She failed to recognize the supernatural aura of the day. Two angels sat inside the tomb their identity lost in her confusion. Still clutching the burial ointments she had brought with her that morning, they asked her…

“Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.”

Mary heard the rustle of robes behind her. Jesus stood before her, but again in her misery, she failed to recognize the one she loved. Echoing the angels, Jesus asked…

“Woman, why are your crying?”

Then, he got to the heart of the matter.

“Who is it you are looking for?” (John 20:11-15)

There it is. Jesus cuts the soul of everyone who would believe in him as savior and Lord. The fundamental question of Easter. “Who is it you are looking for?”

Easter is the most revered of all Christian Holidays. According to the Pew Research Center, 45 percent of Christians worldwide say they attend worship services on a monthly basis. That number typically increases to about 70 percent on Resurrection Sunday. So, if your church averages about 500 people in attendance every Sunday, you might expect 675-700 people in attendance for Easter services.

Whether you attend church every Sunday or whether your church experience is limited to Christmas and Easter, this is the critical question of we need to ask ourselves. When you walk through the doors of the church, for whom are you searching? Who do you seek?

Just for a moment cast yourself in this story as the thirteenth disciple. Where they go, you go. What they see and hear, you see and hear. What they feel, you feel.

I’m not sure if Peter and the other disciples could have answered that critical question with 100 percent certainty on that first Easter morning so long ago. They had just seen their teacher, their Lord crucified. Their worlds turned inside out and upside down. Little made sense that day. Things had certainly not turned out the way they expected.

It was just a few weeks earlier that Jesus walked his disciples north out of Galilee and into heartbeat of Roman worship. Caesarea Philippi, a Roman city north of the Sea of Galilee, served as the home of a temple to the Roman god Pan.

Needing to get away from the crowds to teach his disciples what would be an unsettling truth, Jesus ventured into a place most Jews would never go.

Can you see them? Jesus and his disciples sat on the side of a hill overlooking Caesarea Philippi, cooking a few fish over the glowing embers of their campfire. Looming below them were pagan temples carved out of the solid sandstone cliff. Torches cast tall, eerie shadows upon the cliffside as the pagan priests scurried to deliver their burnt offerings to the gods.

The muted but friendly conversation of companions fell silent when Jesus, staring down at the temples, asked a simple question.

“Who do men say that the Son of Man is?”

“They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’”

They waited for Jesus to react, the moment growing more uncomfortable for them as Jesus stared into the distance. Then, Jesus turned to face his dearest friends and in a quiet voice and with eyes that bore into their souls, he asked,

“But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

(Do you recognize it? It’s that Easter question in another form. “Who is it you are looking for?”)

The Jewish crowds considered Jesus a new prophet, perhaps John the Baptist, Elijah or Jeremiah returning to set their people free. Jesus needed to know that his disciples understood the truth. “Who am I to you? Who are you looking for?”

With all the pride he could muster, Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

Jesus offered a word of measured praise and a prophecy.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, 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 Hell will not overcome it.“ (Matthew 16:13-18)

To his credit Peter knew who Jesus was. He was the Messiah. God’s anointed one. God’s son. To his shame, he still didn’t fully understand.

Scripture tells us in the next passage that Jesus, in the quietness of that evening, began to tell the disciples that he would travel to Jerusalem and suffer a great deal at the hands of the religious elite. He told them he would be killed and raised again on the third day.

Slightly horrified, Peter, the one who just declared Jesus the Messiah, tugged on his master’s sleeve, pulled him to the side to rebuke him. This was not a casual “tsk-tsk.” This was a strongly worded criticism, expressing Peter’s sharp disapproval of the content of Jesus’ lesson.

“Never, Lord! This shall never happen!”

Jesus narrowed his gaze into Peter’s eyes raised his voice so all the disciples could hear, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” (Matthew 16:22-23)

The Jews desperately pined for the Messiah to come as a conquering king to drive the occupying Romans from their lands. Peter and the others had a hard time getting past the old narrative. He recognized that Jesus was the Son of God, the Messiah, but fail to understand the nature of God’s redeeming work. He viewed Jesus in political and personal terms. He got the identity right, but not the intent.

Who are you looking for? Jesus asked. Peter was looking for someone different. The wrong kind of Messiah. Looking for the wrong kind of savior.

“Who is it you are looking for?”

Travel now to the Garden of Gethsemane. The hour is late. The disciples are bone tired and weary. Not just from the tiring journey from Caesarea Philippi to Jerusalem, but from the troubling events of the night. The supper shared in the upper room went from celebratory to somber. Jesus’ actions unsettled everyone. Washing the feet. Calling out a betrayer. Launching into a heavy conversation about death at the hands of the civil and religious authorities.

Amid the olive trees, the disciples struggled to stay awake. Jesus knelt farther up the hillside, in fervent prayer. The disciples faded in and out of a sleep induced haze, until they heard the stomp of marching feet. The clatter of sword against shield cutting through the midnight hour. Wide awake now, the disciples form a protective ring around Jesus as a band of soldiers being led by no other but Judas surrounds them, swords drawn.

Jesus gently pushes his way to the front and stands face to face with Judas and the Roman centurion.

“Who is it you want?”

(There it is again. The same probing question. “Who is it you are looking for?”)

“Jesus of Nazareth,” they said.

Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. If you are looking for me, then let these men go…Then, the detachment of soldiers with its commander and the Jewish officials arrested Jesus. They bound him and brought him first to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jewish leaders that it would be good if one man died for the people. (John 18:3-8)

Other passages of scripture tell us that Judas greeted his master with a kiss. Judas joined the disciples, attracted by the message of inclusion and freedom. He heard the words, but never quite got the message. Growing increasingly disillusioned by Jesus’ passive approach, he felt compelled to act. Still believing that Jesus was the man who would start the revolution, Judas tried to force his hand.

The kiss. Perhaps a wink and a slight nod of his head. A lift of the eyebrows. Judas had just created the opportunity to light the fire of rebellion if only Jesus would comply with his wishes.

“Who is it you want?” Judas recognize Jesus’ power. He had seen it in action. He knew Jesus, but he didn’t know his heart. Judas wanted a savior he could manipulate to do his bidding. He wanted to unleash that miraculous power to meet his own desires. Judas didn’t want a savior. He wanted someone he could control.

“Who is it you are looking for?”

Now, let’s go back to the tomb. Hours later in the timeline of Jesus’ life on earth. In the garden outside the tomb, a distraught Mary mistook Jesus for the gardener. Unable to recognize the one she loved so dearly, she heard him ask,

“Who are you looking for?”

In the brief conversation that ensued, Mary’s grieving heart took her the only place her distress could go. With a heart burdened and disoriented, she cried out to him,

“Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him.”

At some point in this conversation, Jesus sought to reassure her. He called her name,

“Mary.”

Something in the sound of his voice broke through the despair and the heartbreak. In that moment of clarity, Mary found the one for whom she was looking.

She fell at his feet and cried.

“Rabboni.”

This Hebrew form of the word is personal, informal and intimate.

“My Teacher.” (John 20:15-16)

Mary understands who he is and acknowledges him as her risen Lord.

You see, when Mary Magdalene ran to tell the disciples that the tomb was empty, she had all the facts right, but she jumped to the wrong conclusion. Peter had done the same in Caesarea Philippi. Judas the same at Gethsemane. Her facts were right. The tomb was empty. She just drew to the wrong conclusion.

We often do the same thing. When faced with troubles and unexplainable tragedy, we mourn. If we understood who we were looking for, we wouldn’t weep at all. Consider this. If Mary had gotten her wish and she found a body in the tomb, we would have no reason to celebrate. There would be no Easter.

The truth of Easter demands an answer from each of us.

“Who is it you are looking for?”

Maybe you’re one of those believers like Peter who initially put your faith and trust in Jesus at an early age. When you think of Jesus, you think of him as savior. You have his identity right, but not his intent. Being saved is more than a point in time reality. Salvation is so much more than that moment in time decision to follow Christ. It’s more than that initial decision you made to trust him. Being saved is knowing Christ daily. Growing in him daily. Making every effort to live a more Christ-like life every day. Letting him be the boss of your life today and always.

Who is it you are looking for? Look for Jesus and make him Lord of your life. Every day.

Maybe your understanding is similar to Judas’ “genie in a lantern” concept of God. Rub the lantern and get three wishes. God is there to answer my prayer. Give me what I want when I want it. There are those who try to mold God into their own image rather than letting God mold them into his. When we try to make God into our own image, he will always disappoint us. Why would we trust a God who is no more perfect than us?

God’s plan for your life is far better than anything you can dream on your own. He wants the best for us. Thank God for the unanswered prayers because he knows what’s best. Thank God when God makes us wait on him because his timing is best.

Who is it you are looking for? Look for Jesus and trust him to meet your needs. Every day.

Maybe this Easter celebration will be meaningful because you get it. Jesus died on a cross as a willing sacrifice for your sins. He rose again. A living Lord. In difficult times, he is your strength. When you don’t know which way to turn, he is your guide. You’ve embraced his presence in your life and recognize that he is still your Rabboni. Personal and Intimate. Your Teacher. Those closest to Christ know that he is still teaching you daily how to live like him.

Who is it you are looking for? Look for Jesus, your strength. Your companion. Your teacher.

Statistics tell us Easter Sunday will draw many to worship. That is my hope and prayer. Every person who walks in the door should be blessed.

I pray that everyone who walks through the sanctuary doors will look for Jesus in all his fullness. It is a choice each of us can make, but it won’t happen unless we come with that question on our hearts.

It won’t happen, unless I am willing to ask the question as I enter to his presence in worship.

“Who is it I am looking for?”

Never Abandon Love

Background Passages: Revelation 2:1-7; Matthew 22:27-28, John 13:37; and I Corinthians 13:1-3

As we come out from under the dark cloud of the pandemic, it’s nice to see people returning to more normal activities. Most businesses, it appears, seem to be regaining their footing.

While most churches are also returning to more normal operations, the pandemic made it much easier for some to drift away from regular church attendance and giving. While that trend seems to be present in our church to a lesser degree than others, it is a nationwide trend impacting almost every church to some extent.

The movie O Brother, Where Art Thou, billed as a remake of Homer’s The Odyssey and released in 2000, follows the exploits of three escaped prisoners through the Depression Era south. At one point in the movie, Delmer and Pete stumble across an outdoor revival and on impulse they jump into the river and are baptized, taking some consolation that they are now saved. Everett knows them well and scoffs at their decision. God may forgive, he says, but the state never will.

Later, while stopping their car at a crossroad, the three men pick up a hitchhiker. Tommy is a young African American man who just sold his soul to the devil in exchange for playing the guitar well.

Everett, the leader of the fugitives, laughs at the coincidence. When told of Tommy’s choice to sell his soul to Satan he says, “Ain’t it a small world, spiritually speaking. Pete and Delmer have just been baptized and saved. I guess I’m the only one who remains unaffiliated.”

It was a funny line in the movie, but in light of the modern decline of the church, it loses some of its humor.

Today, it appears many are choosing to remain unaffiliated. As the millennial generation moves into adulthood, a significant portion of them believe they can find God outside of any connection with a local congregation. The Pew Research Center found that between 2007 and 2014, the percentage of people claiming to be Christian dropped from 78.4 percent to 70.6 percent. The reason they cite for walking away is that those faith traditions no longer serve them

Just this week, I heard that two churches in our community were seriously considering closing their doors. That news, coupled with a sermon I heard this week, focused my thoughts on this unsettling trend.

To talk about the decline of the “church,” however, sanitizes the problem. We can point fingers at the institution, but the church is its people. We can’t hide behind a cloak of brick and mortar. When churches fail, it is because the people have walked away…because we have lost our way.

A sermon I heard this week was drawn from Revelation 2. Now, I have never spent a great deal of time in Revelation. I grew up when the “Left Behind” series was popular. I found it, like most books and movies, “loosely based on Scripture.”

So much of Revelation is difficult to understand and often misused. But one section of John’s culminating book hits home in perfect relevance to today’s church and its people.

Chapters 2 and 3 are red letter pages of Revelation…a message attributed to Jesus, written to seven churches in Asia Minor…Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia and Laodicea. I recall a sermon series by my former pastor. He identified in these passages and Jesus’ descriptions of these churches, a word of praise, an identified problem and a God-given promise. The only exception was the letter to the church in Smyrna who seemed to be doing everything right at the time.

I’m going to spend some time in my upcoming blogs, with the exception of Easter weekend, focused on each of these churches, each of these congregations.

It’s important, I think, to note that these churches were real churches and real people. They were not metaphors or parables. They were early churches, most if not all, established by Paul during one of his missionary journeys. John wrote these letters within the letter to these seven churches as a status update or report card.

That doesn’t keep the letters from serving a secondary purpose like so many of scripture’s stories do. His descriptions of these seven churches identify the traits of churches and believers throughout history and into today. The letters serve as effective reminders to those of us called to be Christ followers.

Let’s talk about the church in Ephesus.

John wrote Revelation and the imbedded note to the church at Ephesus while exiled on the island of Patmos for preaching the gospel and irritating Rome. The messenger who carried John’s letter to these churches would have arrived at Ephesus from Patmos first simply as a matter of geography.

Ephesus, the largest and most important city in the region, held considerable wealth and political power. Located on major trade routes, it was diverse in both ethnicity and culture…a cosmopolitan center akin to Los Angeles, New York or Houston. Its religious culture was equally diverse.

Paul founded the church in Ephesus and spent three years preaching and teaching in the city. The congregation, pastored by Timothy, had Apollos as its teacher and Aquila and Priscilla as two of its servant leaders. The Apostle John may have also spent time in ministry among the church in this city.

When you hear those names associated with it, the church had a marvelous history and legacy of faith, unparalleled in many ways by any other church except the one in Jerusalem. It’s message and ministry clearly demonstrated and dynamic…their work seen and praised by Jesus.

“I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know you cannot tolerate wicked men and you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not and you found them to be false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.” (Revelation 2:1-3)

I wish we could all hear those words of praise from Jesus. If Jesus could speak to my church or yours…to hear him say, “I see what you’re doing and it is a good thing. You work so hard on my behalf. Despite every obstacle thrown at you by the world around you, you stay strong. You know right from wrong and when others who are false teachers try to lure you away, you study God’s work, seeking truth. You never follow errant teaching because you are grounded in my word. I know it has been tough on you, but you endure and keep enduring. I have never seen you grow tired of the work I sent you to do.”

Such words of high praise. And, I suspect, there have been times in the life of your church and your congregation…times in your own life…where Jesus would have gladly shared those words.

Wouldn’t it be great if every day was lived in such a way that we could hear those words of praise from our savior.

As the pastor read the letter from John offering Jesus’ praise for their good work, I can see them beaming in the pews. Jesus’ next words were undoubtedly met with stunned silence.

“Yet, I hold this against you.” (Revelation 2:4a)

You see, we can go about doing such good things and still miss the mark. What could they have done wrong?

“You have forgotten your first love.” (Revelation 2:4b)

Perhaps a better translation is this, “You have abandoned the love you had at first.”

Love. The godly motivation for all they were doing should have been love and it wasn’t. Their hands were busy. Their feet scurried from one place to another to feed the hungry and care for the sick. The minor irritations and outright persecution that came with their work fazed them not. In the midst of their busyness, they lost the one essential element that points to Jesus. They forgot to love those they cared for. they forgot to love each other. They forgot to love Jesus.

Lehman Strauss wrote, “Love is the first essential in Christian character, and when it commences to decline, the soul begins to drift.” The church at Ephesus had broad shoulders, a sound mind and a pure intentions…doing everything the right way…but their heart ran on empty. Their soul adrift in the wind.

They forgot the greatest commandments in scripture…

“Love the Lord your God with all your soul, with all your heart and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it, Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:27-28)

They forgot that God calls us, his people, to connect with one another on a personal level as examples to the world around them…

“By this shall all men know that you are my disciples…that you love one another.” (John 13:35)

In one of his most poetic chapters, Paul tells the church in Corinth…

“And now I will show you the most excellent way. If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all the mysteries and all knowledge and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gained nothing.” (I Corinthians 13:1-3)

The church in Ephesus had become a great social service, but its influence waned because they carried out their ministry dulled by obligation and not compelled by love. They saw each other as laborers together, not as brothers and sisters in Christ. They forgot the joy of their salvation in Jesus Christ and did not allow his love to shine through them.

There is the struggle in which I find myself all too often. Doing the work out of duty rather than love. When a congregation gets stuck in the muck of duty without love, that’s world sees the church only as relevant as the physical help it provides in the moment. They are not captured by God’s love demonstrated through his people.

The warning of Jesus echoes through the empty sanctuaries across our community and the world.

“Remember the height from which you have fallen. Repent and do the things you did at first. For if you do not repent, I will come and remove your lamp stand from it’s place.” (Revelation 2:5)

I suspect those churches across our country who are closing their doors or struggling to keep their footing are all doing good things. Could it be that they’ve simply abandoned the love they had at first?

It doesn’t have to stay that way, however. Jesus called the church at Ephesus to recall how they felt at the moment of grace when they realized for the first time that God loved them so much that he sent his son to die in their place. Literally, he said, to “Keep on remembering…” the euphoria of that moment when you knew you were loved by God. He doesn’t want us to forget that feeling because it will dictate how we act and relate toward God and toward others.

Because we tend to forget that experience over time, God calls his people, his church…he calls us…to repent and do the things we did at first. He wants us simply to love God. To love each other. To reach out to a world that struggles to do right. To love them so much that they find the answers they need in a fellowship of believers who care.

Jesus said in verse 7, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear…” Listen to his promise.

“To him who overcomes, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life which is in the paradise of God.” (Revelation 2:8)

That which was taboo from the beginning of creation is freely offered to the one who conquers…the one who loves. And, that’s a promise.

I certainly don’t have all the answers to the issues faced by today’s church. We see church attendance declining. So many good people seem to take a degree of pride in being like Everett and “remaining unaffiliated” with any church.

I suspect the fault is shared. They have forgotten the love they experienced when God first wrapped his arms around them and we who remain affiliated have forgotten to love them back into those same arms.

I suspect it was a good reminder to the people in the church at Ephesus. I know it’s something I needed to hear.

Feeling Plutoed?

Background Passages: Romans 8:31-39; Galatians 2:20; I Peter 5:9

A recent visit with our granddaughters to Houston’s Museum of Natural Science ended in the museum’s gift shop. They each gathered a puzzle, a dinosaur painting kit, a rock and some rock candy among their treasured mementos.

The difference between the souvenirs gathered by our granddaughters and grandsons on our museum outings is that the girl’s get the same things. The boys studiously avoid getting the same things.

This time through the shop was a little different though. My wife bought her own memento of the museum. She bought a set of plastic dinner plates, each painted with a picture of a different planet. When we opened the package at home, I was saddened to see that Pluto didn’t make the cut.

As a child growing up through the dawn of the Space Age, I had a hard time choosing my favorite planet. It always came down to most distinctive Saturn or the most distant Pluto.

Poor Pluto. After some heated debate, The International Astronomical Union in 2006 stripped Pluto of its planetary status, defining it instead as a “dwarf planet.” The change in status added a new word to the American lexicon. In 2008, the American Dialect Society named “plutoed” its Word of the Year.

To be “plutoed” means “to demote or devalue someone or something.” As in, “The Houston Astros World Series championship was plutoed by the trash can cheating scandal.”

It begs the question. Do you ever feel plutoed?

Genesis tells us that God created all of humanity in his image. If we truly understand that idea, no one should ever be made to feel devalued. To be created and loved by God grants us favored status in the eyes of our Creator and should never leave us feeling plutoed.

She walked alone to the well in the heat of the day. Her choice, but not her value preference. She would have much rather tackled the daily chore among a gaggle of friends in the cool of the day, sharing stories of the family and dreams of tomorrow. Her past, though, caught up to her. Marginalized by neighbors who deemed her damaged goods, she came to the well feeling plutoed…until Jesus asked for a drink.

They pushed their way through the forest of legs and limbs. Curious. Inquisitive. Just wanting to catch a glimpse of the miracle working teacher about whom their parents marveled. Just as they reached the front door, rough, fishermen hands, grabbed them by the collars of their robes and pulled them to the back of the gathered crowd, shooing them away. They hung their heads feeling plutoed…until Jesus hugged them.

She hung her head in shame, embarrassed by the public accusations leveled on the Temple steps. Caught in the act of adultery, clinging to the tattered fabric of her cloak, she recoiled at their angry threats. Folding into a fetal position with her eyes closed, she waited for the stones, feeling plutoed…until Jesus challenged her accusers and touched her heart.

He lay near the pool’s edge, waiting for the stirring of the healing waters, knowing he would never be fast enough to feel it’s restorative power. A daily habit of perpetual frustration. His limbs forever useless, making him worth less to his family and friends, a plutoed member of a heartless culture…until Jesus told him to rise up.

It doesn’t take much for us to feel devalued or marginalized. The influence of an evil world creates the environment for it.

Jesus saw a woman at the well comfortable in her isolation. Feeding off her resentment. He offered something different…a chance to put aside the bitter cup and drink from a well of everlasting water. “I can give you water and you will never thirst again. I can give you a life where you will never feel alone. You belong to something bigger than yourself. You belong to me.”

When others saw the children as an annoyance to be pushed aside, Jesus offered a smile and a hug. Blessings that changed the lives of the little ones and their parents for years to come. “God has plans for you, little ones. Live up to his call.”

To a woman scorned and steeped in sin, Jesus offered acceptance, not of the sin, but of the one who sinned. He challenged her to change. “Don’t worry about the Pharisees or the stones they like to cast. They have sins of their own, equally worthy of death. Know that you are loved by a God who forgives. Go home. Be better than this.”

Jesus looked into the empty eyes of an invalid with little hope of life beyond helplessness. Trapped in his frailty and cast aside, entertaining a miracle beyond his reach. “Get up and walk away from this. Start now and make your life a testimony of God’s grace and power.”

A careless word. A hurtful act. A sarcastic put-down. A parent’s disregard. A spouse’s betrayal. A teacher who never looks your way.

A lost job. An illness or disability. A promotion denied. Credit for a personal accomplishment that’s awarded to someone else.

It doesn’t take much to leave us feeling plutoed. Demoted. Devalued. Marginalized. When something happens that erodes your sense of self-worth, just remember that you are a person of worth created in the image of God. Loved so much that he gave his only Son to die for you and called and equipped you for his purpose.

After his experience on the Damascus road where he encountered a persecuted Christ, Paul must have struggled with who he was and what he had done. Face to face with the one he persecuted he could have crumbled beneath the weight of his sin. Yet, God chose him. Allowed him to see that whatever happened in the past was history. God called him to live by faith in a crucified savior who loved him personally and gave his life for Paul’s life. Hear it in Paul’s own words.

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20)

It’s the same thought that occupied Peter’s mind as he called God’s people to belief and trust in Jesus as Lord. We are worthy of God’s love and called to praise him.

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” (I Peter 2:9)

In God’s heart, you will never be plutoed. If we are to be used by God for his purposes, we cannot allow the world around us to declare us somehow less valuable to God’s kingdom work.

We have a choice. We can listen to those who tell us we are somehow unworthy of God’s love based on their own over-inflated feelings of superiority. We can let others steal our joy and devalue our existence. Or we can rest on the restorative power of God’s grace that screams of the value he places on our lives.

“What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?… Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?… No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:31,35, 37-39)

You are worthy of God’s love. If that doesn’t keep you from feeling plutoed, I don’t know what will.