Category: Bible Studies

I Have Missed It

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was very good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Consider fellowship as John did when he wrote:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relationship.

Partnership.

Companionship.

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

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

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

Don’t Squander Your Inheritance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is, I think, a viable question.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So Esau despised his birthright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amen?

Amen!

He Went Away Rejoicing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ethiopian eunuch left Jerusalem with more questions than answers.

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

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

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

“What are you reading?”

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

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

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

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

“Maybe I can help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And he went away rejoicing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let Us Not Give Up Meeting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you hear what he said?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The writer of Hebrews said it plainly:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who Will Move the Stone?

Background: Mark 16:1-6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our Spiritual Vaccination

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It paints a pretty dismal picture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worthy of the Call

Background Passage: Ephesians 4:1-16; Acts 19:20, 23

Serving as a pastor or minister is a more than a job. For most of the men and women who serve as ministers, their work is a calling. When we speak of a “calling” we tend to speak in reverential tones. It is a beautiful idea of being set apart for service by God.

Many who serve in other capacities speak of their call to service. A police officer who puts his or her life on the line every day to serve a community speaks of a calling. A doctor or nurse feels called into the field to care for the sick and hurting.

Watch a kindergarten teacher work his or her magic while trying to corral 22 five-year-old children. See the middle school teacher fending off the preteen hormones. Follow a high school teacher preparing teenagers for a world that is changing before their eyes. If you do, you know these saints of schools have been called to that profession.

Being God-called to serve in whatever occupational capacity is, in my view, the definition of that which is honorable and noble.

The police officer who violates community trust, the doctor or nurse who turns a callous heart to a suffering patient, or a teacher whose actions diminish the potential of a child, fail to live worthy of the call they received.

If we allow God to rule our lives, I believe that we have been called to the career to which he led us…with godly intent and purpose. The Bible teaches a higher scriptural call for every believer in Christ.

The Bible tells us there will always be a battle between the way of Christ and the way of the world. In this clash of cultures, Christians are called to live distinctive lives, different from the world around us.

Paul, the apostle, spent years in Ephesus sharing the gospel to a diverse group of Gentile and Jewish individuals who, in the real world, stood at odds. In Christ, Paul needed them to love one another and to be united in spirit and faith. In his letter to the Ephesian church he encouraged them to join in relationship with one another and to grow in wisdom and maturity of faith.

When division crept into the church, Paul addressed the issue head on. He knew it was the only way they could distinguish themselves from the cutthroat culture of the community that surrounded them. He told them that God had given them everything they needed to live those distinctive lives.

Ephesus was an important city in the Roman Empire during the first century. Its harbor opened onto the Cayster River of Asia Minor which emptied into the Aegean Sea. At one point, Ephesus, with its 250,000 residents, was a hub of commerce and the second largest city in the known world.

In addition, it was a major religious center. The city boasted a temple dedicated to the Greek goddess, Artemis, (the Roman goddess, Diana) one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

During Paul’s three-year stay in Ephesus, the gospel of Jesus Christ took hold. Acts 19 tells us that people were abandoning their pagan religion and that “the word of the Lord spread widely and grew in power.” (Acts 19:20)

The clash between the pagan culture and the growing Christian culture shook Ephesus to its core.

“About this time there arose a great disturbance about the Way.” (Acts 19:23)

A silversmith, named Demetrius, who made small shrines to Artemis, complained that this new Christian religion was cutting into his business. He called together his workmen and craftsmen of all related trades stirred up a city-wide riot that threatened the lives of Paul, his pastors and all Christian believers in Ephesus.

It was within this clash of cultures that Paul admonished the believers to keep living distinctive lives.

“I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

What a challenge he presented the followers of Christ 2,000 years ago and today. Live a life worthy of your calling. He wasn’t talking about one’s profession or work. He was talking about the call to live life in the image of Christ. Let Paul explain what that meant.

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”

What does that kind of life look like? A Christian, in Paul’s definition is one who puts others before self, extending kindness to all he or she encounters, answering the hurts and disappointments inflicted by others with self-control and restraint and showering both friend and enemy in God’s love.

Nothing quite destroys the witness of a Christian or the church as quickly as when humility is replaced with arrogance. Gentleness with Rudeness. Patience with restlessness. Love with hatred. Peace with discontent.

Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Love. Peace. Living lives patterned by these traits…what Paul identifies elsewhere as “fruits of the spirit…” builds unity within the church and enhances our witness in the world.

It’s not just the unity within a local congregation of which Paul speaks. It is our relationship as Christians to all people of faith regardless of social status, political affiliation, or ethnicity. It is our purpose to keep that unity from being disturbed by focusing on that which unites us.

“There is one body and one Spirit…just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all…”

There is nothing wrong with our denominational divisions. There is nothing wrong with the varied worship styles. We all belong to one faith. When we allow our differences to overshadow the similarities, we diminish our witness. Baptist. Methodist. Catholic. Male. Female. Black. White. Brown. Saints and sinners. One faith in glorifying God. One faith in Jesus Christ as Savior. One faith in the spirit who guides. One faith in serving our fellowman. One faith in building the kingdom of God in this world.

God desires us to live lives worthy of his calling. God wants to live in unity as believers in Christ. These things are so important to him that he provides us with the means to make it happen.

“…To each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it…he gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers to prepare God’s people for works of service so the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in faith…and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.”

You and I have been called to serve in some unique way and given the gifts to be so very good at it. When we use those gifts we’ve been given, the engine that is the Christian faith fires on all cylinders at its utmost efficiency and effectiveness. Every time we live unworthy of the calling nothing in life runs as smoothly as it could.

The clash of cultures between the way of Christ and the way of the world is starkly evident today. Because the world delights in our failure to live up to our calling, we need an extra measure of those distinctive characteristics that set us apart from the world.

Lest we think it’s impossible to live with one another in humility, gentleness, patience, love and unity, we simply must keep our eyes on the one God, the one Lord, the one Spirit and the one faith.

Seek God and his will. Look to serve one another. Set aside that which divides us and open your hearts to love all those who love the Lord. Reach out to the world community in ways that demonstrate the love and compassion of Christ.

“Live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

I don’t know about you, but it is a reminder I needed to hear and heed.

Amen.

 

 

The Greatest of These

Background Passage: I Corinthians 13:1-13

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Its origin traces back to the memory of a saint who was executed on February 14 over 1,500 years ago. Not exactly a Hallmark moment, is it?

Two legends surround St. Valentine, the patron saint of lovers, epileptics and beekeepers. The first story says that Valentine was a Roman priest and physician who was martyred on February 14 during the persecution of Christians by the Roman emperor Claudius II Gothicus in the late third century. Apparently, Valentine defied the emperor’s orders and secretly married couples to spare the husbands from war.

Again, not exactly a Hallmark movie. However, according to the second legend, Valentine befriended his jailer’s daughter whom he had healed from blindness, often exchanging letters from prison that he signed, “from your Valentine.”

Okay, that’s more like it.

Despite this noble beginning, no one celebrated Valentine’s Day for more than 1,000 years. The first valentine still in existence today was a poem written by Charles, Duke of Orleans, to his young wife in 1415. The Duke had been captured at the Battle of Agincourt and jailed in the Tower of London shortly after their marriage.

As such, it was a rather depressing note dated February 14.

My very gentle Valentine,
Since for me you were born too soon,
And I for you was born too late.
God forgives him who has estranged
Me from you for the whole year.
I am already sick of love,
My very gentle Valentine.

I seriously doubt Hallmark will resurrect that one on one of their cards.

Over time, Valentine’s Day has morphed into a time when we celebrate romantic love. And, as a concept, it’s worth celebrating. Romantic love provides the starting point for one of the world’s most cherished relationships between two human beings. It is a gift from God, not to be taken lightly or dismissed easily.

However, anyone who’s marriage lasted beyond the honeymoon stage knows that romantic love gets buried in the messy reality of life. To be sure, healthy relationships dust it off as often as possible in a haphazard and sporadic reminder of the things that brought us together in the first place.

When Robin and I married 45 years ago, we had read at our wedding the beautiful verses found in I Corinthians 1:13, a passage many have used to define married love.

While such definition wasn’t Paul’s intent, it does take love to a new dimension that serves as the spiritual glue that binds two people together.

Paul wrote those words to address the growing discord in the Corinthian church that hampered their relationship with God and with one another. Within their relationship as the body of Christ they each had gifts to share, none more important than the other. All God-given and necessary.

Paul told them that despite all their gifts, they lacked one thing. As a result, all their words and deeds sound as “noisy gongs and clanging cymbals.” Meaningless.

Paul implored them, “Let me show you the most excellent way.” Then, he shared some of the greatest poetry of the New Testament.

“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs.

“Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

All else, Paul reminded the Corinthians, will fall away and disappear, leaving us incomplete. But, all is not lost.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”

Here’s the point I’m trying to make, I hope. The love we share with our spouse never reaches its greatest depth absent of the love of God within that relationship. As great as one might think their marriage to be…and it could be marvelous by the world’s standards…it could be infinitely richer and more meaningful when grounded in God’s love.

This “agape,” God-like love that he shares in abundance with us, demonstrates itself in our lives when we love each other as he loves all of us. It is the measuring rod of our spiritual and marital maturity.

When love is patient it never tires of looking out for the well-being of others. When kind, love is tenderhearted in word and deed, never harsh and bitter. Love cannot look at the accomplishments, possessions and abilities of others with jealous intent. It cannot look at its own success with boastful pride.

Love remains approachable, always. Not arrogant or overbearing. Love is courteous and polite. Never selfish or indulgent. Love is slow to anger despite cause and easily forgives, holding no grudges. Taking no offense.

Love cannot inflict pain upon another. Love rejoices when we get it right. Love celebrates truth.

Love believes the best of others and trusts in the other’s intent. Love hopes always that those who fail will not fail again rather than insisting that failure is inevitable. Love always lasts through life’s difficult moments.

When you think about it, love like that is exactly how God loves us. Love like that is exactly as we are to love one another. Love like that is the definition of married love.

Therefore, it seems to me, that married love is at its best when both individuals within that relationship are filled with God’s love to the extent that it flows freely through them and into the heart and soul of the other.

I am grateful that my wife loves me like that, despite my mistakes. I am hopeful that she knows I love her like that.

It’s Valentine’s Day!

I hope you and yours are reminded today of that which brought you together in the first place and God’s love that allows you to grow deeper in love each day.

Abide in Me

Background Passages: John 15:1-11; Galatians 5:22

When I enrolled at Texas Tech University many years ago, I left a high school with 120 students to enter a college with more than 20,000 students. It was a little intimidating. My brother, who was already a senior at Tech, shared some great words of advice.

He simply said to make the enormous a little smaller by creating a connection with a group on campus.

Made sense.

I chose to make the Baptist Student Union my connection. I made great friends, discovered tremendous spiritual mentors and found Robin, my wife. As far as I am concerned it was the social trifecta of my college experience.

I maintain peripherally connected to this day. I follow the Tech BSM on Facebook, receiving information about the ways that organization continues to minister to its students.

I saw a post this week about one of those programs that encourages students to pray for their friends, their campus and the world. The BSM is encouraging alumni and others to pray as well. That, I can do. The program is called ABIDE.

After reading that post, that word kept creeping back into my thoughts this week. When that happens, it’s usually a sign that God has something he wants me to learn. That became the focus of my devotional thoughts this week.

Abide is not a word we use much anymore. At least, I don’t.

The dictionary calls it an “Old English word.” That must be why the translators of the King James Version of the Bible (living and breathing old English men) loved the word. They used it often.

By definition “abide” carries the meaning of “await, remain, lodge, sojourn, dwell, continue and endure.”

The word points me to a beautiful passage in John 15:1-11. Rather than using the more archaic “abide,” my New International Version uses “remain.” Let’s break it down.

Jesus and his disciples just left the solemn confines of the upper room. Jesus sought to ease their creeping sense of anxiety and uncertainty. As he frequently did, he drew a parable from a familiar life experience to focus their thoughts on the point he needed them to understand.

“I am the true vine and my father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I spoke to you. Remain in me as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself. It must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Jesus wanted, needed, them to understand that even though he would go away, the connection he had with them was strong. He had already told them about the Comforter he would send in his place, but here he reminded them that the gardener had already pruned them for fruitfulness by the “word” he spoke to them.

John called Jesus the Word back in Chapter 1. The truth he shared with them, the truth they learned from him would serve them through every step of life as long as they allowed the word to remain. Everything Jesus had taught them for three years was to prepare them for this moment. If they never forgot what they had been told and put those words into practice, they would bear fruit.

Isn’t the same true for us? The pull to walk our own path grows strong when we forget what we’ve learned about God’s truth…his way and his word. When we ignore God’s word because it doesn’t fit with our personal desires.

We remain in him and he in us when we immerse ourselves in his word, putting into practice all he has taught us through the years.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

“I am the vine and you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit. Apart from me you can do nothing…if you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you. This is to my father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”

Jesus’ illustration of the vine and branches is brilliant imagery. Our ability to be fruitful hinges on our connection with the one, true vine. If we claim that all things are possible through Christ, we must also accept that nothing meaningful and lasting value is possible without him. When we pull away from the vine, we cannot bear fruit.

Galatians gives us a great idea of what that fruit might be.

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

By remaining and abiding in Christ, we find our lives demonstrate the character of Christ. We become more Christ-like. When our lives take on the character of Christ, it glorifies God and tells the world of the transforming nature of Christ. Without wearing the t-shirt, a sinful world will know are his disciples.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

“As my Father has loved me, so I have loved you, now remain in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so my joy may be (remain) in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Jesus knew the disciples would soon have the bottom drop out of their world. These words were meant to reassure them.

“I have loved you…remain in my love.” What must it have meant to his closest followers to hear those words? During the darkest of hours yet to come, the disciples heard Jesus remind them to cherish and cling to his love. It is the same sustaining love you and I experience when the bottom drops out of our world.

When Jesus told his disciples, “If you keep my commandments,” he wasn’t saying his freely offered love was conditional on their obedience. God’s love is always unconditional. He was saying to the disciples and to us that our obedience keeps us from drifting so far from him that we can no longer feel his love.

Everything I learn of God through his Son, his Spirit and his word, reminds me of all I’ve gained through my relationship with him.

I hear those final words spoken as clearly to me as if I were standing among those shaken disciples. I hear the promise of abiding joy, utter contentment, at the life God has given me and in the future he has planned for me.

And here is the real kicker. Hear what Jesus said in this passage. “…remain in my love…” “so that my joy may be in you…” Did you hear it? My love. My joy. That’s what he wishes for us.

No one this world has known love more deeply, more authentically, than did Jesus. No one this world has loved more deeply, more authentically, than did Jesus. His joy was absolute contentment, despite the difficult circumstances and the horrendous task he faced.

It is the fullness of that love and joy that he desires for us. Not the feeble imitation offered by the world. His love. His joy. We gain access to that depth of feeling when we remain in him.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

I join in prayer with those college students at Tech who seek that connection with the Father, through his Son. Those who desire a connection with the vine. Those who wish to be pruned in order to be fruitful to the glory of God.

Jesus told us how. It simple remains for us to listen. Make the connection real and personal. Allow Jesus to “await,” “remain,” “lodge,” “sojourn,” “dwell,” “continue” and “endure”within our hearts throughout our lives. Then, do our best to “await,” “remain,” “lodge,” “sojourn,” “dwell,” “continue” and “endure” in him.

If that sounds too complicated, let’s keep it simple and go old school grounded in the old English.

“Abide in me as I abide in you.”

No Where Else To Go

Background Passage: John 14:23-27

I spent the bulk of my professional career trying to put the right words together to explain things. I always felt I did it fairly well. Today, I’m at a loss to explain what’s happening in our country.

It’s not that the events of the past year have caught me by surprise. It’s just that it all seems so senseless. The ideologies and actions of a radical left and radical right keep tearing at the fabric of our republic.

I have no words to ease the angst of my adult children who wonder what kind of world their children will inherit. I certainly have no words to adequately answer the questions of my nine-year-old grandson whose innocent heart cannot comprehend hatred and bitterness.

I am at a loss. All I can do for them is listen and love.

We’ve become a people who call others blind because of the sawdust in their eyes without paying heed to the plank obscuring our own vision. A people unable to see that spiritually an “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” gave way to “turning the other cheek” or “walking the extra mile.”

An essay published by the Lincoln Home National Historic Site shared information about President Lincoln’s thoughts on the eve of the Civil War.

Step back in time and travel the world in 1860. Visiting every continent, every country, you would find monarchies, dictatorships and authoritarian rule. When you return home and set foot on American soil after all your travels, you would have found only one republic established on democratic rule. The United States of America.

France tried shortly after the American Revolution, but mob rule and the guillotine determined outcomes more than the ballot box. If we are honest with ourselves, it is a startling comparison to our present circumstance when taking over a downtown or storming our Capitol building are accepted as necessary by factions of our population, each declaring that the end would justify the means.

President Abraham Lincoln led our nation at a time when the world’s monarchists and tyrants watched our Civil War with glee, hoping to see the end of this unnatural democratic experiment in the dissolution of the United States.

Lincoln understood this well. It was not simple political rhetoric when he described America as “the world’s last best hope.” Lincoln believed if the war were lost, it would be the end of America. If America ceased to exist as a united nation, it would end the hope of people everywhere for any form of democratic government.

I suspect there are foreign nations today dancing with joy at the discord so prevalent among our people.

When he was most overwhelmed, Lincoln found the only answer available to him. It’s the only answer I can find to my current inadequacies. Lincoln turned to prayer.

During the worst days of the Civil War, Lincoln met privately with his friend and journalist Noah Brooks. The president told him, “I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”

“Driven to my knees…” When the politics fail, when our own understanding fails us, maybe it’s time to hear those words from President Lincoln. Maybe today, we have “no where else to go” except to our knees in prayer to our Father in heaven.

On March 4, 1861, at his first inaugural address, with his nation divided and on the brink of Civil War, Lincoln offer this prayer for peace.

“Almighty God, who has given us this good land for our heritage;
We humbly beseech Thee that we may always prove ourselves
a people mindful of Thy favor and glad to do Thy will.

“Bless our land with honorable ministry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion,
from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.

“Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people,
the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues.

“Endow with Thy spirit of wisdom those whom in Thy name
we entrust the authority of government, that there may be
justice and peace at home, and that through obedience to Thy law, we may show forth Thy praise among the nations of the earth.

“In time of prosperity fill our hearts with thankfulness,
and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in Thee to fail;
all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

It was the perfect prayer for an imperfect era of discord 160 years ago. It’s a good prayer for this day of uncertainty. I claim it for our nation today and ask you to join me in praying for our country, our leaders, our people and our future.

Prayer is something I can do. It is prayer that will bring me the peace I need to feel.

As a politically divided nation, peace is at a premium. Trying to find peace in the events of this world is a fruitless effort. Life’s circumstances and events might bring a welcomed calm, but, ultimately, nothing that happens around us will ever bring peace. We must look upward and inward for that.

Jesus’ words to his disciples in the Upper Room hours before his arrest and crucifixion offered instruction, hope and encouragement. He knew the disciples were about to have the rug pulled out from under their feet. He knew how dark their days would grow and how burdened their hearts would be. He knew exactly what they needed to hear.

What I know in this moment is that God knows my struggles and burdens of my heart. He knows how dark these days feel to me at times. That’s why his words to his disciples bring comfort to my heart. He knows what I need to hear.

“Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching…but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom my father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:23-27)

Don’t worry, he says, about what is happening around you. Just stay true to all I’ve taught you. Be who I have called you to be. Remember all I’ve taught you and don’t be influenced by others to abandon your faith and your hope.

In the middle of life’s turmoil, trust me. Trust my peace, not as the world understands it, but peace as you have experienced  in the past. Do not be afraid.

I don’t know about you, but it is God’s peace we need as a people and a nation. It is a peace that comes only on bended knee.