Christian Living – Page 6 – Dr. Kirk Lewis Books

The Uncomfortable Christian

Background Passage: Acts 20:7-12, 2 Timothy 15

I thoroughly enjoy college sports. As a graduate of Texas Tech, I am a Red Raider through and through. While I suffer a bit each fall while our football team tries to find its way, my blood runs with a healthy mixture of scarlet and black during baseball and basketball season. A trip to the final four and to the national championship will do that to you.

Michelle Trotter, the girls’ basketball coach in the Crosby Independent School District, is a committed Christian. She posts motivational moments on her Facebook pages that speak as much to life as to the game she loves. She recently posted an interview with Chris Beard, the head men’s basketball coach at Tech. In it, Coach Beard talked about the value of staying uncomfortable.

“Comfortable gets you beat. You see it all the time in sports. Life’s the same way. You have a great day, a great win, and it takes the edge off. It takes a special person, we use the term “elite,” to remain uncomfortable…Everyone has high expectations and focus in times of adversity. Only the elite people can push themselves each day to stay uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is where growth comes from.”

He’s got a point. As soon as we get comfortable, we get complacent. When we’re complacent, we don’t work as hard. To adapt his phrase. Complacency gets you beat, in sports, in life and in faith.

There is a rather obscure passage of scripture in Acts that may speak to this idea…at least in my weirdly wired mind.

Paul is leaving Philippi to head back through Macedonia for another round of preaching and teaching. Along the way, he spent a week in Troas on the coast. Gathering the believers together on his last day in the city, he began to impart his words of wisdom on redemption and responsibility.

I can imagine this kind of meeting happened frequently in the early church. They needed to be taught the fundamental truths of the teachings of Jesus, the theology of their faith. They also needed to learn how to put that faith in practice, the organization and structure of their ministry. It would require a great deal of teaching and reteaching. I’m guessing this was a reteaching moment.

Luke tells us that Paul called the people together for a mid-day meal. It was a working lunch. As they ate, Paul talked and taught. He had a lot to say to the standing-room-only crowd. As the sun set, the apostle was still going strong speaking past midnight.

As the night wore on, we find Eutychus perched in a third-story window, one leg in and one leg out, his back against the narrow window frame. Perhaps it was his short stature (think Zacchaeus) that made him think the third-story window was a good idea. Yet, there he was, high above the crowd listening to the apostle speak.

Is it possible that God’s word and work can feel so ordinary…so comfortable…to us that grow complacent in our understanding, believing that we know everything we need to know? That our reading and study of scripture become too routine? That we take our knowledge of God’s grace and love as that of an ever-present friend that we take for granted? Is it possible that we hear a scripture explained to us one time and assume that is all God has to reveal? Is it possible to believe you know it all and don’t need to hear the same message again?

I don’t know if that was Eutychus’ problem or if he was just tired after a long day, but Luke tells us he fell asleep. As he drifted off, he fell, sadly, out the window and to his death. It seems not only does comfortable get you beat, it also gets you killed.

The good news is that Paul, with the power of the Holy Spirit, gave life again to the young man in a miracle reminiscent of those performed by Jesus. When Paul finally wrapped up his presentation, the sun was peeking over the horizon. Eutychus walked home with his family and friends, rejoicing in God’s goodness.

It’s a peculiar story set in scripture, one in which there is no spiritual truth obviously revealed. No incident of any deep, historical significance. We see God working a miracle through Paul’s undying faith, but there is no direct message. So, in absence of a more direct word from God, you have to open your heart to the spirit’s leading.

So, I want to talk about this idea of staying uncomfortable. Avoiding complacency.

You and I have both seen people who come to know Christ as older adults. Their passion for this new, redeemed life, infuses their hearts and minds. Every passage of scripture is eye-opening. Every lesson they hear energizing. They hunger for God’s truth.

You and I have also seen people who allow time to diminish their hunger and thirst. Their salvation is a one-time thing, guaranteed by scripture, but they never engage in the process of salvation…the on-going growth and development of our spiritual selves. What they read and hear in scripture is no longer profound. This little light of truth gets hidden under their bushel. They no longer let it shine. They get too comfortable in doing church.

I recognize those people because I’ve been those people. I know how easy it is to fall into that trap. Complacency leaves us feeling empty. As one pastor wrote, “When we are complacent, our life of faith becomes just about God, not (a life) for God. Not (a life) with God.”

The problem gets magnified when too many of us grow comfortable in our faith. When too many of us rest on our own understanding, the church begins to suffer and slide. Attendance drops. Membership falls. Worship rarely inspires. Our outreach suffers. People find other things to do.

It is the “elite” Christian who learns to remain uncomfortable. We do tend to sharpen our focus in difficult times and allow it to dim when things are going well. If we can push ourselves each day to stay uncomfortable, we can growth in spiritual maturity.

To remain uncomfortable in our faith is to remain open to being taught. Avoiding complacency in our faith allows us to grow. It’s choice. It’s intention.

Our church has a series of stained-glass windows depicting the seven “I am” statements of Jesus. Our pastor is now preaching a sermon series on these statements. In his almost 40-year tenure with us, Dr. Lyles has preached on these “I am” statements at least five times, he said.

If I’m a comfortable, complacent Christian, I might write off the sermon series. “I’ve heard it before. There is nothing new here I need to learn.” Been there. Heard that. Bought the t-shirt.

If I am uncomfortable, open and willing to be taught, the message will resonate under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit with truth I need to hear and apply in this time of my life. Being uncomfortable is what makes us hunger and thirst for more of God’s instruction. It is what gives our faith its life.

Paul gave words of advice to his pastoral protege Timothy. The words are helpful for the uncomfortable Christian.

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

Most of us learned that verse from the King James Version of the Bible translated into English in 1611. It starts off with the phrase, “Study to show thyself approved…” in the 17th century, the word “study” carried the meaning of “striving” or “being diligent.”

So Paul is reminding Timothy and us to do our best. You see, being an “elite” Christian, like the “elite” athlete, requires hard work. Daily practice. Intense study. Commitment to fundamentals. Willingness to learn a new way of doing things. To avoid the complacency of the routine and embrace the idea of being uncomfortable in the moment.

“Blessed is he who hungers and thirsts for righteousness…” Jesus could easily be saying, in my less poetic terms, “The happy person is the one who knows he doesn’t know and diligently keeps his heart open for the next tidbit of spiritual wisdom and insight that God wants to reveal.”

Blessed are the uncomfortable.

Coach Beard values hard work from his players. He demands it. They practice hard in order to play hard. His recruits are not always the most talented, but they are workers. He finds people knowing that if they put in the work, they will grow to be better basketball players, better people.

Paul would understand this. This passage from Paul to Timothy tells him to be a worker. We know people among our circle of friends or within our church who are workers. They cannot sit idle. If there is work to be done, you’ll find them in the crew.

We also know people steeped in scripture who never quit studying the Bible. These people are constantly trying to work at this business of spiritual growth and maturity to ensure their lives are lived consistent with God’s word of truth. Workers are never complacent with their relationship with God in word or deed.

Based on all of that, this is the part of the Eutychus story I like. Paul ran to the young man who fell from the window. Gathered his lifeless form in his arms. When Paul wrapped his arms around Eutychus, he said, “There is still life in him.” In the next moment Eutychus is awake and walking.

I hope that when I fall victim to my own complacency that the Holy Spirit will wrap his arms around me and declare, “There is still life in him.” I hope that spiritual hug gets me up and walking again in faith.

Eutychus got a second chance at life. God is a great God of second chances. When we grow too comfortable, it might be time to shake the tree. To move our faith to the edge of our comfort zone and beyond with a sense of wonder about what God will reveal to you tomorrow.

So, if you’re feeling a little too comfortable in your faith, this much I know. There is still life in you.

What’s In Your Hand?

Background Passages Exodus 4:1-5; Romans 12:6-8; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The bedouin stood on calloused, bare feet with his sandals in his hand, trembling in the glow of the burning bush. Seeing its light. Feeling its heat. Listening to the voice from its flame.

The 80-year-old shepherd heard these words and more…

“I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…I’ve heard the cries of my people…I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

Moses hid in the desert for 40 years after an unceremonious exit from Egypt. Face to face with the oppression of the people of his birth, he reacted in the heat of the moment, killing the offending Egyptian. Once the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter. Now a old man, tending sheep that didn’t even belong to him. O, how the mighty had fallen.

God spoke to Moses on the slopes of Mount Horeb from a burning bush that was not consumed. The God of his fathers called him to a mission of eternal importance. It was the next phase of God’s redemptive plan. To make it happen, he needed to get his people out of Egypt and back to the land he had promised them. He needed Moses.

This unbelievable experience in the wilderness should have lifted his spirits and emboldened Moses to act. Instead, the miracle on the mountain left him filled with anxiety, offering one excuse after another.

“Who am I? I am no one. Pharaoh will not listen. I know the man.”

God said, “Go!”

“To the Hebrew people, I’m nothing. When they ask who sent me…and they will ask…what do I tell them”

“Tell them I am who I am! Now, go!”

“They’re not going to believe this…not the Hebrew people and certainly not Pharaoh.”

God chose this moment to ask Moses a critical question.

“What is in your hand, Moses?”

Moses looked at his right hand. Fingers wrapped around the thick shepherd’s staff, worn smooth by years of use. His mind raced. This was the tool of his trade. A staff for protection. A staff for balance. A staff for herding. Just a stick.

I wonder at that moment if Moses saw a flash of something more ominous in the staff he held. He was once a prince of Egypt. Perhaps, in that moment, the staff served as a symbol of all that had gone wrong in his life. The perfect manifestation of his failure. He had traded a scepter for a shepherd’s crook so he could herd a flock of sheep that weren’t even his. As he heard God ask his question, “What is in your hand?” Perhaps Moses felt unworthy, certain that God could choose a better man.

Moses swallowed the lump in his throat and said simply…

“A staff.”

Nothing more. Nothing less. An old tree branch whittled and shaped to serve his needs. God knew it could represent something new and different. He just needed Moses to see it, too.

“Throw it on the ground, Moses.”

Moses let it drop. As it bounced on the rocky soil, the staff transformed into a snake. Startled, he took two steps back and stared.

“Now, pick it up.”

As soon as Moses lifted the snake from the ground, it turned back into a staff.

Moses looked in awe at the bush.

“This,” said the Lord, “is so that they may believe that the Lord, the God of their fathers…the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has appeared to you.”

What is in your hand?

What a great question!

I wonder how many of us have starred at the burning bush and heard the voice of God telling us, “I’ve got something I need you to do for me. It’s important. I need you to go….”

I wonder how often you have done what I’ve done and responded immediately with every excuse in the book to avoid doing what God needs us to do. My excuses sound remarkably similar to the ones Moses muttered into the face of a burning bush.

Who am I that you would ask this of me?

I’m not capable.
I’ve made too many mistakes.
I am no longer the man I once was.
I’m too old.
No one would listen to me.
They’re just going to laugh in my face.
Find someone else…please.

How like Moses I am at times. Too comfortable in my place. Too embarrassed of my failures. Too willing to believe my mistakes trump my potential. Too unwilling to open myself to God’s transformative power.

Then, the question comes to me just as it came to Moses.

“What’s in your hand?”

When you get down to it, that’s an intriguing question. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s a question we’ve all heard at some point in our lives. When God asks the question, it deserves an honest look.

Scripture is filled with stories of individuals who possessed no extraordinary gifts. That which they held in their hands was ordinary. Yet, God called. When they quit making excuses, God began to use them. Consider these examples.

Gideon defeated the Midianites with trumpets and lanterns.
Samson slaughtered the Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.
David took down Goliath with a sling and a stone.
A child with a small basket of bread and fish fed a multitude.

So I ask again, the burning bush question.

What is in your hand?

One of the greatest mistakes we make as believers in Christ is to underestimate who we are and what we have. We hold an old whittled stick…an ability to carry a tune, the skill to bake a cake, the temperament for a kind word, the sensitivity to encourage a troubled soul. Yet, we deem it insufficient, weak, small in comparison to abilities we see in others.

Then, the excuses flow. Maybe, it doesn’t matter as much exactly what is in our hand. Maybe all that really matters is, as one writer said, “how much God is in your stick.”

And, there’s the lesson Moses learned. As long as you hold on to your stick, God can’t demonstrate his power. You’ve got to throw it down. Let it go. Surrender it to God. Once God is in it, his power flows through it.

Then, your ability to carry a tune inspires. Your skill in baking brings comfort. Your kind word changes another person’s outlook on the day. Your encouragement lifts a burden from a neighbor’s shoulders. There is nothing insufficient, weak or small about that.

Whatever is in your hands, when surrendered to God, gets infused with his power that makes a difference. And, people will see what is in your hand and know that God is present in your life.

So, what is in your hand?

The truth is, I can’t tell you. It is a matter between you and God. But, know this. There is something there. God has put something in your hand. It may look ordinary to you, but it was given to you for a purpose. He has gifted all of us, placed something in our hand, to use toward the glory of his kingdom.

Whatever God has placed in our hands we are to use it. Paul wrote about it extensively.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith. If it is serving, then serve. If it is teaching, then teach. If it is to encourage, then give encouragement. If it is in giving, then give generously. If it is to lead, do it diligently. If it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8)

I don’t know what your gift may be, but it does no one any good if you never use it. Each of us has been gifted by God so he can send us wherever he needs us to go. To do what he needs us to do. When we surrender that gift to God, when we throw it down, God’s power is alive through us.

Whatever your hand finds to do; do it with all your might. (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

An unknown poet penned a bit of prose a few years ago entitled, “It Depends Whose Hands It’s In.” It’s not Shakespeare or Byron, but it holds a pretty good message. This is how it starts off.

“A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it’s in.”

As one who has missed his share of lay-ups, I ask you…

What is in your hand?

The Still, Small Voice

Background: I Kings 19:11-12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bold.

Brash.

Brilliant.

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

Give us a burning bush.

Manna from Heaven.

A whirlwind.

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

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

Silent.

Soft.

Subtle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He Went About Doing Good

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is this “doing good” that Paul addresses?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seasons of Our Lives

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somewhere in Your Silent Night

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

On the one hand…

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

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

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

On the other hand…

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

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

The Psalmist would understand these feelings of distress.

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

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

His undying hope in the Lord was his answer.

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

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

Maybe we need a little Christmas this July.

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

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

Listen to Somewhere in Your Silent Night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love will find you.

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

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

Amen and again, Amen.

Dancing with God

Background Passages: John 10:10; Psalm 116:13-14, Deuteronomy 30:19-20; Psalm 30:11

Have you ever noticed how you can find connections in random things? I read four seemingly unrelated things this week and found a connection I’d like to share. I hope it make sense when I put it on paper. Let’s play connect the dots

Dot One

As a part of my devotional studies this week I read a passage out of John. It is a lengthy story that is a part of the “I am…” statements of Jesus.

The man, blind since birth, dipped his hands into the Pool of Siloam as he was instructed, carefully washing the mud ball from his eyes. After he had done so, “the man went home seeing.” His rejoicing captured the attention of friends, neighbors and Pharisees. Because it was the Sabbath, a quick investigation ensued, leading the religious elite to Jesus. After a bit of verbal wrangling, Jesus explained to them…

“I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”

John 10:10 is one of my favorite verses, hinting at a life Jesus promises all who put their faith and trust in him. It’s hard to explain that concept to one who doesn’t believe in Christ. When we try to live life on our own it is easy to get disillusioned and disoriented. The chaos that confronts us at every turn saps the life right out of us.

Life with Christ, on the other hand, becomes worth the pain of living. Our relationship to Christ brings with it the possibility of a new joy, a new vitality, in the face of life’s troubles…if we embrace it.

Hang on to that thought.

Dot Two

My uncle, the Rev. Leslie Lewis, is the pastor of a Lutheran church in a farming community near Lubbock. One of his published devotional thoughts this week talked about taking up the cup of salvation as described by the songwriter in Psalm 116.

Leslie wrote about taking up the cup. “That’s the nature of relationship. All we can do is take the cup. The cup being life, with all its circumstances as it comes to us. For God comes to us as our life.”

Think about that for a second. “God comes to us as our life.” Life is messy, isn’t it? Disordered? Chaotic? God with us amid the chaos.

We find ourselves in a global pandemic, restricted in what we can do and where we can go. Unable to reach out and touch those we love. Even in the middle of something as broad as this, the other burdens of living don’t go away. Fractured relationships. Missing paychecks. Poor decisions. Sickness. Misunderstandings. Life easily becomes unbearable and disorienting if we let it. It is relentless in its attack. Each day brings new burdens to face. Doesn’t sound all that abundant, does it?

Leslie continued, “Sometimes we see life coming at us and are tempted to pray as our lord did, ‘If it be possible let this cup pass from me.’ But the relationship with life demands we take the cup…take responsibility for what is coming to/at us. A loving relationship with God is no more than willingly accepting the cup; the person, the circumstance of life as an invitation to dance with God.”

I love that! “An invitation to dance with God.” Abundant living is not the absence of all the issues that life throws at us for this life we’ve been given to live is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. Nor is it hiding ourselves behind a veil of religiosity.

Leslie shared that we Christians tend to hide behind pious platitudes, made empty because we don’t live the truth buried deeply inside them. “God is in control.” “God will never give us more than we can handle.” When life has us in its talons, our heart is not in them. We live on the surface of our faith, not in its depths. Hide behind the curtain of pious living.

Jesus later said as much to the Pharisees.

“You hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First, clean the inside…” (Matthew 23:25-26)

Taking up the cup means embracing all that life holds and finding a way to dance our way through it with the Father. Leslie added, “Life is not for sissies. Those who only want to play it safe will never know the riches of his love.” Never know what it means to live the abundant life.

Hold on to this dot and let me take you to another.

Dot Three

I picked up a book this week from my personal library which I have not read in more than 45 years. Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxine Dunnam in 1973, is about the joy that comes in the present from living an authentic, Christ-filled life.

In her book, Dunnam argues that the thirst for real life is as old as creation itself. That God built within us the desire to experience life at its fullest…in abundance. In Deuteronomy, God, through Moses, tells the Hebrew people…

“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now, choose life so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life…” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Dunnam writes, “Here ‘life’ and ‘death’ don’t signify ‘existence’ and ‘nonexistence.’ Rather, they hold a promise that existence can be enriched and thereby become real life.” Authentic life. Abundant life. “You can have a dead life or a real life—one that is lived in confidence, hope and gratitude.” And, if we’re truthful, we’ve all known Christians who were the “walking dead,” those who allowed life to suck the joy out of their relationship to God. That’s not what God intended.

Like my uncle, Dunnam argues that Christians tend to cloister behind the walls of the church or wrap ourselves in the cloak of spirituality to avoid the hazards of the world. Dunnam says real life is not in the avoidance of problems, but in our dynamic relationship to God. Staying connected to him while facing the world as it comes and ministering through the problems and the pitfalls. Abundant life is God’s gift in the middle of the messiness of life.

God offers us the same as he offered the Hebrew children. Choose life! Choose abundance!

Dot Four

Real and abundant life is an experience. The work of God is making us real. In the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, written by Margery Williams, the worried rabbit is told by the wise old Skin Horse that it takes a long time to become real.

“It doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully made. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

God’s call to abundant living is a call to love and serve others. Those acts of service will often leave us with hair loved off, eyes dropped out and a little loose in the joints. You may look ugly in the sight of the world, but they don’t understand. God loves our mangy, bug-eyed shabbiness that comes from an abundant life of sacrifice.

Connect the dots

What does abundant life mean to me? It means desiring the fullness of life that only a relationship with God can provide. Willingly serving and loving others. It means embracing our cup…this life…as it comes with all its joy and despair…all its turmoil and tests…all its passion and grace. It means to choose this life…to love God, to listen to his words and hold tightly to him at all times. It means living a real, authentic faith evidenced by a cup as clean on the inside as it is on the outside. It means full joy and contentment in a relationship with a loving Father.

It means dancing with God.

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosened my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.: (Psalm 30:11)

Our Season of Uncertainty

Background Passage: John 20:19-21

Easter lies just around the corner. I began this week reading the extraordinary verses about Jesus’ journey to the cross, his death and his resurrection. The meaning of this time of year goes straight to the heart. I found something new as I read about the days between the cross and the resurrection. A word that has a message for us in this most unusual time of life…the season of uncertainty.

As we’ve moved from a period of self-quarantine to mandatory stay at home, we have seen the Covid-19 virus continue to spread across the country and across the world. The number of cases rise every day. The situation leaves us…

…uncertain

…isolated

…troubled.

…no longer in control of our circumstances.

Everything that is routine in our world has been turned sideways and upside down. Such disruption impacts each of us differently, depending on our personalities and our life situations. We know one thing for sure. Nothing is normal.

Those of us who profess faith in God know in our hearts that he is still in control. That while our lives have been temporarily and, in some cases, tragically changed, God has not changed one iota…the same, yesterday, today and tomorrow.

We have spent the last several weeks trying to figure out how to response and live faithfully amid this pandemic. Join me in the upper room. There are lessons in its shadows.

Jesus followers found their life irrevocably changed after they laid Jesus in the tomb. Everything that was routine in their world was turned sideways and upside down. Some of them claimed they had seen the risen Lord, scarcely believing their own eyes. The others dared not hope.

They heard rumors that the Jewish authorities were preparing to arrest any follower of the man they had crucified. So, they locked the doors. Shuttered the windows and rarely ventured outside the walls of the upper room.

The situation left them…

…uncertain.

…isolated.

…troubled.

…no longer in control of their circumstances.

What we know from scripture is that nothing that was happening was normal.

“On the evening of the first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews…”

Does it sound familiar? In the days following Jesus’ death most of the disciples found themselves in self-quarantine, huddled together in the upper room with a few other faithful followers of Christ. It was not a comfortable time for any of them.

I find my first lesson in this description, “…when the disciples were together…” They were able to quarantine together, locked away in the upper room…but, they were together. They found some comfort in contact with each other.

Certainly, the same applies to us. While we’re isolated in our homes, physically separated from friends and family, we have the great luxury of technology that keeps us connected…that allows us to stay in touch with one another. Telephone calls. Cards. Social media posts, Facebook messaging. Text messages. Facetime.

The point is there are many ways to reach out to friends and family other than through work, play, social gatherings or church. We can sit back and fret over our lack of touch or we can connect differently. No person within our community should go without some contact on any given day. Think about those who are truly alone. Make that a priority in your life to find ways to “be together.”

“…Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you’…”

Jesus appeared to the disciples because they needed to see him. They needed to feel his presence. They needed the peace that only he could give them. Imagine how calming those words were when uttered by their Messiah.

It should come as no surprise to us that Jesus, through his Holy Spirit, stands in our midst during our most trying times. How easy it is for us to forget this central truth of the Bible. God is with us. His presence brings peace in the middle of any storm…or pandemic.

“After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.”

Peace brings joy. When Jesus came into their midst, a sense of calm came over them. In that moment, sorrow and uncertainty became pure, unadulterated joy. When they were in the presence of their Lord, their worries disappeared.

It’s hard to imagine in today’s circumstances that we can find joy. We find joy in the presence of the Lord. We bask in the inner contentment knowing that we belong to him.

“Again Jesus said, ‘…As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”

Jesus did not want the disciples to let fear overwhelm them. He knew they could not stay locked away in the upper room forever. He needed them to do the things he called them to do. They had a purpose and he needed them to get on with it.

I know this take away from John is not what was intended. It is a message that reminds us that we serve a resurrected and living savior who died as an atonement for sin for all who put their faith and trust in him. That’s the gospel…the good news…of Jesus Christ.

I also know that the Holy Spirit can bring a secondary application to even the most straightforward of passages.

Being sequestered in our homes for a time undetermined does not mean our ministry ends. I suppose it might even open doors we might never have seen. Jesus stands with us, offer his peace and tells us he is sending us still to do his work.

I don’t know where or how God will use me and you during our unusual season, but I know he is sending us to bring a sense of certainty to the uncertain…to be a point of connection to the isolated…to offer a virtual hug and a word of comfort to the troubled.

God calls us to remind those who feel they have lost control of their lives that God is still on his throne…that he remains in control and will continue to work through us to bring good from the bad that threatens us.

And to that I say, “Amen.”

*****

Author’s Note: When we can do little else, we can pray for the strength and safety of the health care workers and all those who continue to work those jobs that provide needed and necessary services to the rest of us. Pray for those who have lost loved ones and for those who are sick. Pray for the families who cannot visit a loved one who is in the hospital. That time of separation makes everyone anxious. Pray for wise decisions and solutions to resolve and lessen the impact of the coronavirus and the economic burden it brings. Pray for anyone you know who lives alone. Pray that God’s church emerges on the other side of this with a renewed enthusiasm for being the heart, hands and feet of God in our world.

Reach out through any means available to you to stay in contact with one another. Love one another.

Freedom to Worship

Background Passages: John 8:31-32; Mark 12:28-31; Romans 10:13-14

The words of the Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights ought to inspire anyone with a pulse and a sense of history. Yet, we take these hallowed documents for granted, too often trying to bend them to match a personal perspective never envisioned by our country’s founders.

When you see the originals, written by hand on parchment and preserved behind glass in the rotunda of The National Archives, the effect is sobering. The dim, protective light made it difficult to read the 241-year-old words. Having to concentrate on the faded script only added to the power of the words written by men like Thomas Jefferson, George Mason and James Madison.

Every phrase I read spoke volumes, but one phrase kept coming to mind for hours afterward. On the original Bill of Rights, it is listed as the third amendment to the U. S. Constitution, the first two being rejected by Congress. That amendment, which subsequently became the First Amendment, said,

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

Any mention of religious freedom was left out of the original Constitution because most of the states had some form of state-supported religion…Maryland, New York, North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia sanctioned the Anglican/Church of England. Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire sponsored the Puritan or Congregational Church.

James Madison of Virginia, largely credited for writing much of the Constitution, led the charge to get the document ratified in his home state. He met serious opposition from Baptist pastor, John Leland, a determined advocate for freedom of religion and freedom of speech.

Madison campaigned to be elected as a delegate to Virginia’s convention to ratify the constitution. He vocally opposed any early amendments, fearing it would derail ratification. Leland pushed back, opposing ratification without an amendment guaranteeing basic freedoms.

Recognizing Leland probably had enough votes to defeat him, Madison agreed to introduce the Bill of Rights once the constitution was ratified if Leland would not run against him. Both men honored their agreement. Madison introduced the Bill of Rights on May 4, 1789, which was ratified by the states two years later.

The idea of religious liberty is still unique in the world. The Baptist Joint Committee on Religious Liberty (BJC) says that religious liberty is the “freedom to believe and exercise or act upon religious conscience without unnecessary interference by the government.” The idea gives one the freedom to practice or not practice religion of any kind.

Religious freedom is not without boundary. Some religions involve beliefs that conflict with other laws. In those cases, the courts must decide how to accommodate sincere religious beliefs while protecting the people’s interests, including shielding those who may not share the same religious beliefs.

The BJC puts it simply. “Do not ask government to promote your religion if you don’t want government to promote someone else’s religion; and do not permit government to hinder somebody else’s religion if you don’t want government to hinder your own religion.”

Leland wrote in the 18th century, “Government should protect every man in thinking and speaking freely and see that one does not abuse another. This liberty I contend is for more that toleration. The very idea of toleration is despicable. It supposes that some have a preeminence above the rest to grant indulgence, whereas all should be equally free. Jews. Turks. Pagans and Christians.”

There is growing evidence of intolerance in government laws and regulations toward the Christian faith that seem to “prohibit the free exercise” of religion. Leland and Madison, I believe, would argue against such intrusions. They would also argue against Christian leaders’ insistence of greater government support for the Christian faith.

Staring at the original Bill of Rights in its case on display in Washington, D.C., served as a great reminder of the original intent of the First Amendment. As much as I might believe the world would be a better place if we all lived as my Christian faith says we must live, I cannot insist that the government must push my beliefs on every citizen. As it concerns religion, government must remain neutral. It’s a fine line, I admit.

For me, then, my Christian imperative is far less political than spiritual.

Neither political nor moral law provides a path to salvation in Christ. Neither political nor moral law is a path to service in Christ. Calling ourselves a Christian nation doesn’t bring a single soul to saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.

The free exercise of our faith on a political level without demonstrating the love of Christ daily with those we meet is meaningless. It is not government’s responsibility to “make disciples of all nations.” It is my responsibility. It is the role of the church.

As the Pharisees claimed a political and moral superiority over Christ, he offered one of the most profound statements in response. He said,

“If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The truth is that Jesus came to free us from the eternal consequences of sin. To give us a path to everlasting life offered as a grace gift of God. That’s not political. It’s personal. God gave his son on a cross not that we might have a Christian prayer in schools or the right to post a copy of the Ten Commandments in a courthouse, but that we might experience life as God intended it to be lived. And that we might love and serve others in such a way as to draw them into a right relationship with Christ…to set them free as we are free.

I just get a feeling Jesus would be less worried about the political realities than he would these spiritual truths. The Pharisees were stuck in the law to exclusion of everything else. When a few of them came to Jesus to question him about paying taxes to Caesar and about their own internal arguments about religious matters, he tried to help them through their confusion. Finally, one asked him to name the paramount law or commandment.

Jesus kept it simple.

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

Nothing in the current political realm can keep us from having a relationship with Christ. Nothing in this political climate keeps us from loving others and finding ways to meet their needs. That’s what was ultimately important to Jesus. It ought to be what is important to me.

I don’t need government to restrict the faith traditions of others in order to advance the Christian faith. I must use my freedom as an American and my freedom in Christ to convince others of their need for him…revealing to them his love for everyone…by living the life God intended me to live…by meeting the needs of all I encounter.

I’m grateful to live in a nation, under the protection of the Bill of Rights, that guarantees our right to worship or not worship as we please.

I am more grateful to live in relationship with Christ, under the eternal protection of God, that enables me to share his grace with those who might not believe as I do. To serve others in such a way as to draw them to Christ.

Our only hope of being a Christian nation comes when those of us who claim the name of Christ share his love by word and example in such a way as to convince one person, then another, and then another, to freely accept the grace gift of God.

“For everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved. How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them.”

We will never be a Christian nation by law. We will become a Christian nation when hearts are changed and people embrace the freedom that comes from knowing Jesus Christ as savior.

It seems to me that’s religious freedom as God meant it to be.

Cast Your Troubles

Background Passages: Matthew 6:25-34, Luke 12:26-34; John 14:1, Philippians 4:7

The optimism that seems to accompany each new year fades quickly. Most resolutions we make to change the direction of our lives crumble in the reality of old habits and events beyond our control. Within days of our initial optimism we find ourselves mired again in the swamp of anxiety.

Certainly, in our lives and in our world today, we can find reasons to worry without looking very hard.

That could be why many psychologists call our time the “anxious generation.” In New York magazine recently, Jean Twenge, a social researcher from San Diego State University said that anxiety among young people is at an 80-year-high. As bad as it has been since the Great Depression.

Sadly, Christians are not immune to worry, but our faith should provide a buffer to dampen its effect. Jesus said as much during an anxious time for the disciples in the days leading up to his crucifixion.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” John 14:1

Jesus speaks to the deep trust we must hold in God as we deal with the most difficult times in our lives. But, worry isn’t limited to times of deep crisis, is it? Our tendency is to worry about the little things and the things we cannot control.

I don’t know why Jesus started the conversation we find recorded in Matthew 6 and Luke 12. Scripture doesn’t tell us. It’s not hard to imagine the scene based on the context provided by Luke and Jesus’ introduction to the passage.

Jesus and his disciples just encountered a man who came to Jesus to settle a financial dispute…asking for his inheritance that his brother controlled. He was a man self-consumed, one who could not see beyond his own desires and the things of this world. He asked Jesus to convince his brother to give him his inheritance immediately. Jesus responded with a parable about those who pursue wealth at all costs, even to the detriment of their eternal condition.

The disciples must have wrestled with its meaning, perhaps even expressing their own fears and apprehensions about the struggles of life. Jesus took the time to explain.

“…I tell you, do not worry about life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothes…Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?”

Worry changes nothing.

Jesus spoke to them of the ravens who neither planted nor harvested, yet God provided for them. He talked of the flowers that do not labor or spin yet are clothed more beautifully than the finest garments any king might possess. He talked of the grass in the field that is abundant one day and tossed into the fire the next.

At its heart lied an argument that ran counter to the ways of the world.

Anglican Bishop John Taylor Smith of England autographed his books on the inside of the front cover with the same message every time. The last stanza of his poem alludes to the point Jesus made to his disciples in Luke about living lives not consumed by worry. He wrote:

The worried cow would have lived till now
If she had saved her breath.
But she feared her hay wouldn’t last all day
And she mooed herself to death.

When you see the lilies spinning in distress,
Taking thought to manufacture loveliness;
When you see the little birds build barns for store,
That’s the time for you to worry, not before.

Jesus explained it with less whimsy.

“…you of little faith. Do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after such things and your Father knows you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

The message: If God’s created order takes care of the smallest of his creatures, how much more will God take care of your needs.

Jesus challenged his disciples to trust in God’s provision and worry less about the things that ultimately do not matter. He encouraged them to focus instead on the kingdom of God and their work within it.

The lesson still rings true, even in our fearful and worrisome world.

In a dramatic statement of “do as I say, not as I do,” it seems to me that we worry when we focus on the wrong things. I’m guilty as charged. Matthew’s retelling of this story adds a word that Luke does not include. Jesus concluded his teaching by stating a sad truth about life.

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

No matter how rose-colored our glasses, each day poses its own unique set of problems we must face.

We worry when we quit living in the present…in the now. Worrying about what has already happened is useless. Worrying about tomorrow is fruitless. We stop worrying when we learn to live in God’s will one day at a time. It is this day and what we do with it that matters.

Theologian William Barclay writes that worry and anxiety are basically irreligious…worldly and not spiritual. He said, “Worry is not caused by external circumstances. In the same circumstance, one man may be absolutely serene and another man worried to death. Both worry and peace come, not from circumstances, but from the heart.”

Jesus said much the same thing in Luke as he ended his teaching. He said,

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

What my heart desires is my treasure. So what will I desire for today?

I wish I could say I never worry about things, but I do. Those moments slip up on me when I give no thought to faith. When my faith is lacking. When my heart focuses on worldly things. When I’ve treasured something other than my relationship with a loving Father in heaven who I know deep down will provide whatever is needed through every circumstance.

A new year begins. I’ll offer no petty resolutions I cannot keep. Instead, I’ll offer a renewed commitment to the kind of faith that allows me to walk through life circumstances unafraid of any outcome. I commit to putting my faith and trust in God at the center of my heart. With that comes the kind of peace that crucifies all worry and fear. With that comes peace.

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:7)

That verses speaks to being content with living in the present when every temptation of the world tries to steal our joy. It offers praises to a loving God who will protect my heart and mind from the agony of anxiety. It is my trust in Christ that carries the day.

May this new year bring you peace through the unmeasured grace of God.