Category: Christian Living

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.

A Different Spirit

Background Verses: Numbers 13:26-33, Numbers 14:20-24, Joshua 14:6-15

At one point about 10 days ago, someone posted a message on Facebook asking for information on Caleb, one of the 12 spies whom Moses sent into the Promised Land on a recon mission. “Was Caleb a good guy?” she asked. She based her question on the feeling that there were not many newborns today named Caleb.

Then, as I picked up the material for teaching my Sunday School class last week, the lesson was on Caleb.

Reflecting on both this disconnected incidents, I looked back at previous writings and resurrected a story I did in January 2016 about Caleb. I enjoyed reading it through again. I thought it might be nice to air it out one more time. The following is a reprint of A Different Spirit.

Flickering firelight
danced across his weathered face
as he paced worriedly behind his brethren.
Caleb.
One of the Twelve.
Scout.
Surveyor.
Spy.

Forty days Canaan.
Time to report.
The Twelve
gathered just outside the tent of Moses.
Circled the campfire.
Considered their conclusions.

For more than an hour
they talked.
The Twelve.
Leaders of their respective tribes.
Extolled the virtues of the land
God promised.
An accurate account of its…
Fullness.
Fertility.
Fruitfulness.

Grape clusters.
Too heavy for one man to carry.
Grain fields.
Bountiful and heavy with seed.
Grassy plains.
Suitable for grazing of vast herds.

They showed and shared the bounty.
Tasted its goodness.
Truly, without question,
a land flowing with
milk and honey.
Just as God promised.

Caleb.
Listened warily.
Prepared for the other shoe to drop.
“A land flowing with milk and honey,” but…

He heard their murmurings
during their journey.
A land of promise, but not potential.
What would be the point?
They would never possess
what they could not conquer.

Daunted
by the fortified cities.
Overwhelmed
by the vast armies.
Intimidated
by the giants in the land.
Caleb knew their hearts to be…
Torn.
Timid.
Terrified.

They grimaced and grumbled.
Fearful.
Fretful.
Worried about facing the descendants of great warrior tribes.
Amalikites.
Hittites.
Jebusites.
Amorites.
Canaanites.

“All too proud.”
“All too powerful.”
“All too much for us to handle.”

Caleb could listen no more.
He winced at the
fury of their faithlessness.
“We cannot attack.
They are stronger than we are.”
Caleb’s frustration boiling over
into an agonizing shout.
“Are you children afraid of the night?”

Every eye turned to the man of Judah.
Shocked at the outburst
from a man ordinarily subdued.
Moses locked eyes with his friend,
a wry glance,
as if to say.
“Okay, you’ve got our attention now…”

Caleb.
Took a deep breath.
Exhaled slowly.
Walked back to the center of the campfire.
Plucked a handful of grapes from the Canaanite cluster.
Voice barely above a whisper.
“Everything you said about the land is true.
We could not ask for more.
Lovely.
Lush.
Everything of which we dreamed while in Egypt.
Everything God promised.

“The people are many.
Cities walled and protected.
The armies experienced and well-equipped.”
Voice growing stronger as he
emphasized his point.

“You are right.
We cannot attack.
They are stronger than us…”
Caleb paused and looked the men squarely in their eyes,
fire of the campfire reflecting in his own.
“But they do not have our God on their side.
We do.

“We should go up.
Take possession of the land…
For with God,
we can surely do it.”

Silence.
The men averted their eyes from Caleb’s steady gaze.
Only Joshua stood with Caleb.
Then…
Arguments.
Counter arguments.
Lasted for hours.
No resolution.
As they disbanded,
Ten of the Twelve
spread panic among the people
until the whole community refused to claim the land
God promised.

*

Rebellion paid its price.
God lost patience with their
constant condemnation
of their covenant with him.
The Lord made a new promise to Moses.
“No one who treated me with contempt
will ever see the Promised Land.
Because my servant Caleb has a
different spirit and
follows me with his whole heart,
he and his descendants will inherit the land.”

For 40 years,
the Israelites wandered in the desert.
Time passed.
A new generation of Israelites prepared to enter
the land of God’s promise.

*

Joshua.
Stood on the hill east of the Jordan River.
Stared across the deep valley into
the rugged terrain of the Negev.
The ancient city of Jericho just below the horizon
lay between the river and the mountains.

Joshua’s task.
Divide the land among the Tribes of Abraham.
Take the land God promised his forefathers.
It would not be easy.

The Israelite leader heard the crunch of
stones under sandal.
Felt his friend of many years
standing at his side.

Joshua glanced to his right.
Nodded his head in simple greeting.
“Caleb.”

Though 85-years-old, Caleb stood…
Straight.
Steady.
Strong.
He smiled at his younger friend.
Let his eyes follow the gaze of Joshua
into the morning haze.
Stared deeply into the distant lands.
Thoughts dwelling upon the people they must defeat.

“Do you remember,”
asked Caleb quietly,
“what the Lord said to Moses about you and me?”
A question in need of no answer.
The two discussed that day many times
during their desert wanderings.

“I let my heart speak then about the possibilities,” said Caleb,
“though our brothers did not see it the same.
Yet, I have always followed God with all my heart and
always trusted his promises.”
He shrugged as if his next statement was a given.
“If God gave the land to us, then they,”
Caleb nodded toward the unseen enemy,
“they cannot defeat us.”

Caleb knelt on his haunches,
pushing aside the pebbles with his knife.
“You know as I do.
Our people fear the Anakites more than any other.
Their cities are fortresses.
Their men strong and tall.
‘Like giants,’ our people said.”
Caleb laughed softly,
knowing there was some truth to their words.

Then, he let out a long breath.
Stood and squared his shoulders.
Pointed to the rugged countryside across the river.
Toward the land of Anak and the giants.

“Give me those mountains.
With the Lord’s help,
I will drive them out just as he promised.”

Joshua.
Amazed at the faith of his old friend.
Nodded in agreement.
Placed his hands on Caleb’s head.
Offered a prayer and blessing for God’s
presence and protection.

Without another word,
Caleb turned and walked away with purpose.
Prepared to claim that which
God promised.

*

The Bible tells us that Joshua assigned Caleb the land he requested. The land filled with giants. The Bible tells us. The Lord helped Caleb defeat every enemy, opening the land to Caleb and his family. As history began to unfold. Caleb’s land became the land that gave life to David. The land that gave birth to the Messiah. Caleb’s faith became a critical cog in the plan and purpose of God.

The Bible tells us. Caleb experienced all God promised “because my servant Caleb has a different spirit. He follows me wholeheartedly.”

Too often we live a timid faith, recognizing the…

beauty of God’s promise.
bounty of God’s provision.
benefit of God’s presence.

But, altogether failing to embrace the role we play in God’s plan. We see the real or imagined giants living in the land we’ve been called by him to conquer…and we cower.

However, because he hold his plan in contempt, we wander the desert of our heart never experiencing the land God’s promised. “My servant Caleb has a different spirit. He follows me wholeheartedly.”

What does this mean?

Conviction.
Ten of the twelve believed God’s promise a lost cause. Though they saw his provision in the land, they lacked the conviction to claim it as their own. Caleb stood convinced that God would finish what he started when he brought them out of Egypt. Convicted of the truth that God would always honor his covenant.

We must recognize that God’s purpose and promise is more than unfilled potential. Our conviction moves us to act. Moves us beyond thinking the task ahead is impossible into a certain realization that all things are possible to those who are called according to his purpose. Conviction creates within us a different spirit.

Confidence.
As one of the twelve, Caleb walked among the same fortified cities. Stood in the shadows of the same giants. Yet around the campfire he demonstrated his complete confidence in the promise of God. “For we can certainly do this.”

Unwavering faith.
Unyielding trust.
Unbridled confidence.

We walk among the walled cities of a sinful world, knowing, without doubt, that we face a difficult battle if we stay on the path God chose for us. Life’s circumstances can seem…

Insurmountable.
Unconquerable.
Invincible.

In our own strength, we remain powerless to overcome. Yet, within the power of God, the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, our confidence soars. Even as we walk among life’s giants, our confidence in the Father allows us to walk with a different spirit.

Courage.
Caleb begged Joshua, “Give me those mountains.” He asked for the assignment, not because those mountains represented the most fertile or the easiest enemy to defeat. Caleb wanted those mountains because they were the most difficult and dangerous. It was the land no one else wanted because of the obstacle it represented.

Conviction and confidence allowed Caleb to trust in God. Courage made it possible for him to take that first step toward victory.

Conviction.
Confidence.
Courage.

One leads to the other. All point to a personal God who desires only the best for us. Living wholeheartedly for God, living with a different spirit requires that we live each day convicted of his promise. Confident in his provision. Courageous within his presence.

Whatever walled fortresses prevent us from moving forward, whatever giants cause us to tremble, let us walk as Caleb walked. May God see in us a different spirit.

Puzzle Pieces

Background Passage: Corinthians 12

Josiah, my youngest grandson, loves to work jigsaw puzzles. The bigger the better. His self-imposed lower limit is 300 pieces. At six-years-old, he has far more patience at the process than do I. His gift for spatial awareness eludes me. He sees a gap in the puzzle, scans the available, intricately designed pieces and almost always finds the right piece. It’s uncanny.

I kept Eli and Josiah by myself for two days this week while their parents prepared for a new school year and Grandma was out of town. Josiah asked me to work a couple of jigsaw puzzles with him. Though not a big fan of puzzles, I joined him. He put in five pieces for each one I found.

At one point, he held a piece between two fingers, remarking about the “uniqueness of its shape.” He handed it to me and said, “It’s easier to find where they go if they’re unique.” Then, he laughed. What I heard was, “Here, Grandpa, even you should be able to find the place for this one.”

But, he’s right. The most difficult puzzles are those where the shape of every piece is exactly the same. Without realizing it, Josiah reminded me of a beautiful biblical truth. We are each uniquely made by a loving Creator who has a place and a purpose for us all.

The Corinthian church struggled with that concept. Paul found a way to address the issue to prevent the first-century church from tearing itself apart.

Step back into the first century.

Corinth sat on a major trade route. People from all over the world entered its gates. Walked its streets. Engaged in commerce. Bringing with them their cultural, social and religious mores. An ethnically and socially diverse community, the blend of culture created an atmosphere of intense immorality and idolatry.

Corinth’s depraved reputation unnerved Paul prior to his first visit there. In I Corinthians 2:3 he admits, “I came to you (that first time) in weakness, with much fear and trembling.”

Though he had been successful in establishing new churches in other Greek communities, he also faced brutal opposition. It is hard to image any situation causing the faithful and powerful disciple to tremble. Along his way to Corinth, the images of Daniel in a lion’s den surely crept to mind.

Though anxious about the reception his message would receive, Paul preached “not with wise and persuasive words (of man), but with the power of the Holy Spirit,” a God-inspired message that fell on receptive ears and believing hearts.

Just a few years later, word came from Corinth about the struggles of the church. It didn’t take long for some in the church to believe their work, their God-given gifts, were of greater worth and value than others. You see, they began to believe that the shape of their jigsaw puzzle piece made them more important than other more ordinary pieces. With each declaration of supremacy, the wedge of bitterness split them apart.

Paul dispelled that notion.

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of workings, but in all of them and in everyone the same God at work.”

Paul goes on to list a series of unique spiritual gifts of great benefit to the church, but he adds at the end…

“All of these are the work of one Spirit, and he distributes them to each one just as he determines.”

In other words, God gives to you those gifts he needs you to have at a time in your life when you need to have them. It is for you to use to do the work he needs you to do.

Every gift we’ve been given, Paul writes, has been given to us for “the common good,” as a means of building up the church, its members and reaching out to a lost and misguided world. If God grants that gift for a purpose, no gift is more important than the other. No one role more critical than another.

Jigsaw puzzles didn’t hit the market until 18 centuries after Paul’s letter to the Corinthians so he used a different illustration to make his point.

“Just as the body, though one, has many parts…so it is with Christ…If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact, God has placed the parts, all of them, in the body just as he wanted them to be.”

The eye needs the hand and the head needs the feet, Paul said. Every part of the body has a role to play in God’s purpose and plan. If one part feels superior or one part feels it doesn’t belong, if we push aside a part because we don’t care for its looks, or, if every part of the body is exactly the same, the body loses its God-created uniqueness.

Josiah will tell you the unique pieces of a jigsaw puzzle allow us to pull the puzzle together. Each piece connects with those around it. We build around those easily identifiable pieces, making new connections as we go until the puzzle is a completed picture.

In the same way, our individual strengths allow us to find our place in God’s picture. When we are in the right place, properly using the gifts we’ve been given, it allows others to more easily connect to the body of Christ…to find their place in his picture.

The work of the church ought to be about helping others find their place in God’s picture. Celebrating the God-designed differences. Making those critical connections with one another that draw us together in one body, one spirit, rather than ripping us apart. When we find that unique piece, we ought to be able to fit it into the mission and ministry of the church. As Josiah said, “Even you can do it, Grandpa.”

The challenge before the 21st century church is to make new connections in a Corinthian world. Connecting each other into kingdom work and extending beyond the walls of the church to reach those who do not hear God calling them to be a part of his bigger picture.

The diversity of the church is its strength. Your uniqueness and mine play important and distinctive roles in the kingdom of God. When we don’t play our part, or minimize the part of others, or fail to pull all the pieces together, we create a hole in God’s plan…his work remains unfinished.

We find ourselves in a time when the people of God are being pushed into the corner by the world around us. It’s easy to isolate ourselves from those indifferent or intolerant to our faith. Now is not the time to huddle. Now is the time to reach out and find those unique pieces; to begin putting the puzzle together once more.

Every time he works a jigsaw puzzle, I play a game with Josiah. Somewhere in the process, when he’s not looking, I’ll hide a piece. When the work is done, he discovers a hole in the puzzle. The picture is incomplete. I attempt to save the day by “finding” what I’ve hidden and putting in the last piece. We wrestle and laugh as he takes the piece away from me. Finally, he plugs the final piece into its spot and beams.

The angels in heaven beam every time we connect a new piece to the puzzle that is God’s kingdom. Image the celebration that will occur when the heavenly puzzle is complete.

When the Axe Head Floats

Background Passages: 2 Kings 6:1-7; Proverbs 3:5-6

I don’t remember exactly when the tree in my in-laws’ back yard died or when they chopped it down. I just remember that the stump was in the way of a wooden deck they wanted to build.

I took my turn among the brothers-in-law wielding an axe, chopping through the thick roots of the once thriving oak. At one point as I pulled the axe over my head, the axe head came off and flew across the yard, leaving me holding the handle.

I have no idea why I thought about that this week. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered a similar story in the Bible. I had to search to find it, but I did. Some of God’s greatest lessons come from unexpected sources.

One reason to read the Bible is that we sometimes find practical life lessons through relatively unknown passages. God has a way of using the obscure to teach the what ought to be obvious. Timothy tells us as much, “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” (2 Timothy 3:16)

I found one of those nuggets of truth from the life of the prophet Elisha.

Elisha spent some of his time in ministry training a new group of God’s prophets. Who wouldn’t want to learn from this incredible man of God? God rewarded Elisha’s leadership by sending more and more men to sit at his feet.

At one point, the students came to the master and requested that they be allowed to cut down a few trees to build a new meeting house for they had outgrown the place where they were.

“Let us go to the Jordan and each of us get a pole and let us build a place there where we can meet.”

They were willing to do the work required. Commendable.

Elisha liked the idea and gave his permission.

The men held Elisha in such great respect that they asked him to accompany them to the Jordan River to find the best timber for the task. Elisha made the journey with them.

Here’s where the story gets interesting. One of the young prophets didn’t own an axe. Eager to be a part of what they must have considered God’s work, the man found a neighbor willing to lend him an axe.

When they arrived at the Jordan, each man found a suitable tree to cut down and the riverbed echoed with the sounds of iron on wood.

I can picture our young prophet wielding his axe, sending the chips flying as he cut into the timber. Then, in the middle of a powerful back swing, the axe head slipped from the handle, the force of the swing flinging it into the river with a heavy splash. The tool he borrowed buried itself in the muddy bottom of the Jordan.

“Oh no, my lord!” he cried out. “It was borrowed!”

It seems a small problem to us, but to this poor, young prophet it loomed large. Not only could he not finish his task, but the loss represented a significant financial burden. In those days, you see, an iron axe was a precious and expensive commodity. According to Old Testament law, if a man lost or damaged another man’s property, he was required to replace it or pay the cost of a new one. Chances are if he had to borrow it in the first place, he had no means of paying to replace it.

Many of our problems are like the one encountered by this young prophet. Through no fault of our own…at a time we least expect it…even while doing good work…we find ourselves facing a situation. We lose something of value entrusted to us. We find ourselves in financial difficulty beyond our means. We encounter illness or injury that collapses our world and leaves us wondering what we can possibly do.

That’s probably why the prophet cried to his master in such obvious distress. “Oh, my lord!” That’s probably why in our times of despair we cry out, “Oh, my Lord!”

Here’s the first lesson that comes to me from this story. It’s always best to learn to trust God before the problem comes. These young prophets were assigned an important task. When Elisha gave his permission, he didn’t intend to go with them. However, they trusted Elisha and needed his presence as they went about their task. As a result, when trouble came, when this man cried out in despair, his master was already there.

We fail ourselves, more often than not, when we think we are capable of dealing with life…both the good and bad times…without asking God to go with us. At the beginning of each new day, new task or circumstance, we ought to thank God in advance for his work in our lives. To being open to his guidance in every aspect of what we say and do. Then, when the crisis comes, we can cry out to him and knowing…trusting…that he is there.

The writer of Proverbs expressed it this way…

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he shall direct your paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

I can picture the man diving in the murky water to retrieve what he could not see. Hands groping along the bottom with the faint hope of touching the metal object. Each time he comes out of the water empty-handed.

He stands chest-deep in the river, water dripping down his face and off his beard. Anxiety written in his eyes. When he looked hopelessly at his teacher, Elisha asked him a question.

“Where did it fall?”

When the man pointed to the general spot in which the axe head sank, Elisha threw a stick in the river and…the iron axe head floated to the surface. How’s that for defying nature, Archimedes?

Then, in a remarkably practical moment, God’s prophet turned to the young man and said, “Lift it out.” He didn’t levitate into his hands. He didn’t pick it up himself. He asked the young man to do his part in the miracle.  The man waded through the water and grabbed what had been lost. After a moment of relief and celebration, the young prophet repaired the damaged handle and got back to work.

So, what’s the point?

I’ve never seen a floating axe, but I’m quite certain God has worked his wonders in my life…and in yours. He put people in my life at just the time I needed them, but I needed to take their hand. He opened doors of opportunity, but I had to walk through them. He whispered in my heart’s ear the solution to many a problem, but I still had to act. You see, God will meet our needs, but only as far as necessary for us to do our part.

Here’s how the story speaks to me.

Every day I rise, before I take a step, I need to ask God to walk with me through the day, trusting that he will honor that request. Believing in his presence brings a sense of hope, peace and purpose in the face of every problem I encounter. God will toss the stick in the waters of my life and give me the choice to pick up the floating chunk of iron or let it sink back to the bottom. He promises to do his part, but I must do mine, ever obedient to the leadership of the Holy Spirit in my life.

God will work faithfully in the lives of his children in our times of trouble and despair…in those times we cry out “Oh, my Lord!”

It’s my hope we all understand and embrace this truth long before the axe head falls in the water. Sooner or later, though, it will fall. So, next time you see the axe head floating on the water, pick it up.

A Cautionary Fish Tale

Background Passages: Matthew 17:24-27; I Cor. 9:19-22; and Hebrews 4:15

For two days
they fished the Sea of Galilee.
The catch?
A little light in the net.
Good.
Not great.

Josiah hauled the barrel of fish to market.
Eli stayed in the middle of the lake,
casting the nets.

Selling the tilapia and carp in Capernaum
earned the two partners
a four-drachma coin.
Two day’s wages split
two ways.

That afternoon,
Josiah rowed his boat
alongside his brother’s skiff.

“How much?”
asked Eli.

“Barely enough,”
was the disappointed answer.

Josiah pulled the coin from the small bag
hidden in the pocket of his robe.
Handed it to his brother.
They fumbled the exchange and the
coin slipped from their fingers
into the water.

They watched helplessly as the sun glinted off
the silver coin as it twirled and tumbled
deeper into the sea and
out of sight.

Two days’ earnings lost.

The flash of light on silver caught the eye of a
carp swimming beneath the boat.
On instinct the fish struck and swallowed the object,
Cold and hard.
Lodged in the gullet.

And, the fish swam away.

Except for the fishermen who spent the rest of the day kicking themselves for their carelessness, this imagined episode was an insignificant event of life on the Sea of Galilee. Yet, God used this story to explain a critical truth about his son.

Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum at a time when the “temple tax” was due. Once a voluntary gift to support God’s work at the temple in Jerusalem, the Romans twisted it into a mandatory tax to build its own pagan temples. Once a year, collectors set up a table on the outskirts of every Jewish town requiring everyone to pay the equivalent of a day’s wage to the Roman government. An unpopular tax, as you can imagine.

Jesus and his disciples had gained some notoriety among the people of Capernaum. This seaside village was his Galilean base of operation. Peter lived there. It is not unreasonable to assume the tax collector knew Peter well. As the disciple passed that day, the man, perhaps a natural critic and skeptic of Jesus and his work, challenged Peter.

“Does your teacher pay the temple tax?”

Without a glance at the tax man, Peter’s answer was terse and to the point. “Yes.”

Peter walked the streets toward his mother-in-law’s home where Jesus was staying, stewing over Roman arrogance and the abuse of the temple tax. The idea of paying a tax to build a pagan temple offended him. A few minutes later, Peter angrily pushed open the door, banging it against the wall.

Startled, Jesus looked up from the table where he sat eating a fig. With the insight of God’s spirit, Jesus took one look at the disciple’s face and answered the question before it was asked.

“What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes? From their own children or from others?

Understanding the privileges of power, Peter looked at his feet and mumbled, “from others.”

“Then the children are exempt. But, so that we may not cause offense, go to the lake, throw out your line. Take the fish you catch. Open its mouth, you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.”

What an odd and obscure passage of scripture! It’s no surprise, I guess, that Matthew is the only gospel writer to tell this unusual story. As a former tax collector, it was, after all, in his wheelhouse.

Though I read the passage in the past, I never gave it much thought. When I skimmed it this week, I stopped. The words of the Bible were not written by chance. So, why put these three verses in scripture for us to read?

Barclay tells us in his commentary that the story is a mini-parable. A story. He says Jesus would never use his power for something so mundane as to pay his obligations. Remember the temptations of Christ in the wilderness? Barclay says its Jesus’ way of telling Peter that his followers must pay our lawful debts, even when they find them distasteful. Jesus used this dramatic story to tell Peter, go fish. Earn what we need to earn to pay this tax.

I can buy the idea of a parable, but I’m not sure this commentary’s hammer is hitting its nail squarely.

The parable teaches us about Jesus. Draws our attention to him. Matthew’s gospel addressed the Jewish people who longed for the promised Messiah. It also speaks to all of us in need of the redemption offered by God through Christ. The story is about Jesus. King of the Jews. The atonement for sin. The ransom for the soul to which all the Old Testament and Jewish law pointed. As such, it is an important word.

However, when put in its broader context, maybe there is more we can learn. According to Matthew just a few verses earlier, Peter was among a trio of disciples to recently witness the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop. They heard the affirmation of God declaring his love for his son and his pleasure at his work. When the experience was over, the disciples didn’t want to leave the mountaintop. They wanted to remain in awe-inspired, blissful worship. Jesus and his disciples, though, had more work to do so down in the valley.

With that remarkable experience still fresh on Peter’s mind, the tax collector confronted him in Capernaum. At that moment, I can see Peter bristling at the idea of paying a Roman tax when his master had just been affirmed by God in the presence of Moses and Elijah. There’s a sort of “Don’t you know who he is? or “Don’t you know who I am?” kind of arrogant vibe to the encounter. “This is God’s son you’re hassling, buddy! And I’m his right hand man! Back off!”

Peter really wanted to tell Jesus about the irritating encounter. Before he could get a word out, Jesus,with his keen insight into human nature, opened the conversation. It’s interesting that Jesus used Peter’s old name in this passage. He called him “Simon.” Jesus reverted to Peter’s birth name on those occasions when Peter was not acting like “the rock” he needed him to be. I suspect when Jesus addressed the disciple as Simon it was the same as my Mom calling me, “Kirk Allan.” A “what have I done this time?” moment.

Peter probably answered Jesus’ question tentatively, with uncertainty in his voice, “the others…”, but he answered correctly. The implication from Jesus clear. “On one level, Peter, you’re not wrong. You and I both know I’m the son of God. You heard as much on the mountain. As the son of God I am under no obligation of any kind to man’s law and rule. But, that’s not the point, is it?”

Then, Jesus uttered a phrase that changes Peter’s perspective from a position of holy supremacy to a posture of humble service.

“So that we may not cause offense…”

Those who know tell me that the Greek word used for “offense” in this passage means “to cause someone to stumble.” It suggests that even though Jesus, by nature of who he is, had no obligation to pay this tax, he would pay it so his refusal would not be an obstacle placed before the Jewish people. He didn’t want to create an issue that would distract from the message he preached.

Paul reflected a similar attitude with the Corinthian church.

“For, though I am free from all men, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more…I have become all things to all men that I might by all means save some. (I Cor. 9:19-22)

Jesus didn’t come to make a political or cultural point. He came to redeem a world that had lost its way. Throwing up obstacles, creating distractions, would not get it done.

Jesus constantly made conscious decisions throughout his ministry to set aside his position as God’s son consistent with his pattern of grace and sensitivity to the struggles of others. The writer of Hebrews reminds us…

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are…yet he did not sin.” (Hebrews 4:15)

As an act of love, Jesus…

set aside his place as the son of God…
never compromised his message or ministry…
complied with the mundane…
replaced condemnation with forgiveness…

all in an effort to avoid setting obstacles in front of those whom he wanted to place their faith in him.

I wonder if that’s not the best lesson found in this fish tale? As children of God, we see many things in this world that we know are not right. Actions counter to God’s law and his will. It has become so easy to condemn without grace. To set barriers between those who offend our political and cultural convictions and the salvation offered by Jesus’ death and resurrection.

The story causes me to think. What barriers have I erected? What have I said or done in my own arrogance that would stand in the way of my witness to others about Christ?

“So that we might not cause offense…”

It’s a fish tale worth considering.

Faith to Dig a Hole in the Roof

Background Passages: Mark 2:1-12 and Luke 5:17-26

In a world where so many people are hurting, it’s difficult to understand why there are so many empty pews in our churches. Many people blame organized religion for its lack of compassion and concern. Perhaps the fault lies not in the institution but in our individual response to God’s call for ministry and service.

The world seeks help for its problems, but no longer trusts the church to be its answer. When it tries, the world tends to ridicule our efforts, painting them with unintended ulterior motives. As a result, many well-intentioned Christians no longer make the time or effort to heal the brokenness they see in their families, friends and community.

We can learn a valuable lesson from a familiar story in Scripture about what it means to take the initiative in meeting the needs of others and persistently breaking through the barriers that prevent us from doing what we are called to do. Mark and Luke both share an early account of Jesus healing a paralyzed man in Capernaum.

*****

When Jesus taught, people noticed a difference between the words he shared and the hollow recitations cited by the religious leaders of the day. With Jesus, they sensed vitality and life…an authenticity and authority to his teaching that was lacking in the synagogues. Couple his unique teaching with the miracles he shared with the needy and the hurting and Jesus became a national celebrity.

Jesus’ reputation as a master teacher and miracle worker spread across Galilee and Judea like wildfire, prompting people to leave their homes to hear him teach and see him work. Drawn by his compelling words of truth and the hope of healing, crowds followed Jesus wherever he went.

On this particular day, Jesus was invited to teach in a home in Capernaum. It didn’t take long for word to spread. They came from Capernaum and throughout Galilee to hear him speak. Others who had journeyed from Judea, including a group of religious leaders from Jerusalem, caught up to him in this seaside village. As the day progressed, Jesus found himself teaching to a standing-room-only crowd.

The Pharisees took the choice seats in the house where Jesus taught. The rest of the people packed into every nook and cranny, blocking the doorway and leaning in windows trying to catch his words. The crowd eventually spilled out into the street outside, making it impossible for anyone else to get close enough to hear.

Four men traveled for days between villages, constantly following the rumors of Jesus’ location, only to find that he had moved on by the time they arrived. They carried a litter between them, bearing a friend whose body was broken and paralyzed, unable to lift even a finger.

Hearing so much about Jesus’ ability to do the miraculous, they had to get their friend before the great healer. They knew Jesus was their friend’s only hope. As they entered Capernaum, there was a buzz in the town. Jesus was here, teaching in a house near the sea.

Moving through the twisting streets, they followed the crowd to the place where Jesus was teaching. The press of the crowd so great and the people so inconsiderate the men could not get anywhere near the door. Each time they tried to get close they were pushed and shoved to the back of the crowd.

They laid their friend underneath a tree and sat beside him, full of disappointment and despair. One of them kept looking at the house, noticing that they could reach the stairs to the roof. Again picking up their friend, they climbed the steps to the roof of the house. With sticks and fingers, they began to chip away at the mud-covered branches. They work until their fingers began to bleed and they dug some more.

At last, one of them managed to get his hand through the roof. They increased their effort with renewed hope. If they could just get the hole big enough they could lower their friend into the room where Jesus sat.

Inside the room, an arrogant Pharisee looked puzzled and irritated as he brushed the dirt from his sleeve, looking angrily at the ceiling. Jesus, for his part, kept teaching with one eye on the ever-expanding hole above his head.

Finally, even Jesus had to stop what he was doing, the hole and the frenzied activity too great to ignore. With effort, the men began lowering their paralyzed friend by rope into the room until he was resting at the feet of the healer. Perspiring and covered in dirt, they peered into the hole they created and shared the man’s story with Jesus, begging him with such sincere words to heal their friend.

To the chagrin of the religious leaders whose brightly colored robes were flecked with dust and twigs, Jesus acknowledged the great love of these four men who sacrificed their time and energy for their helpless friend. Compassion poured from Jesus’ heart as he knelt beside the stricken man. Nodding in approval of the faith they demonstrated and addressing the man’s deepest need, Jesus held a quiet conversation with the paralyzed man before laying his hand upon his chest in prayer and telling him his sins were forgiven.

The Pharisees muttered to one another in their dusty robes, denouncing Jesus privately for his blasphemy.

“Why does this fellow talk like that? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Without hearing their words, Jesus knew their hearts. Never allowing his eyes to leave the man resting on the cot, Jesus responded to their thoughts.

“Which is easier? To say to this paralyzed man, ‘your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk?”

After a moment his eyes bore into the hearts and souls of the religious leaders until they cringed under the intensity of his gaze. “I want you to know the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.”

With a deep breath, he paused and prayed. Then, he smiled at the four men poking their heads through the hole in the roof and extended his hand to the paralyzed man. “Get up,” he said as he pulled him to his feet. “Take your mat and go home.”

Every miraculous healing pointed to the power of God demonstrated in Jesus. For anyone paying attention, each act of healing was proof conclusive of God’s power within him. The people left the home amazed at all they had heard and seen.

*****

The story reveals a lot about Jesus. Like the Pharisees we have much to learn about the power and authority we can find in him. But, I find a more personal message in this cherished story demonstrated by the faith of the four friends.

The accounts of this story we find in Mark and Luke are almost identical. Almost word for word. But Luke, the physician, uses a phrase that Mark does not include. Luke wrote this about Jesus,

“And the power was in him to heal the sick…”

On a day when the Holy Spirit was filling Jesus with great power, there was no one present who needed his help. Jesus’ audience that day consisted of people who loved to hear Jesus teach. There were present also a few religious leaders who felt a little threatened and challenged his every word. Yet, other than this one who was brought to Jesus by four wonderful friends, there is no mention of others who were present in need of healing.

On nearly every other occasion where Jesus taught the crowds, we read about the sick, blind, disabled and demon-possessed so desperately in need of Jesus’ touch. But not this day. Given what happened to these four men and their paralyzed friend, we can surmise that many of the sick and helpless were sent away, pushed to the periphery of the crowd. They were not invited inside.

So, despite having the power in him to heal the sick, there was no one present for him to heal…until four men traveled a great distance and refused to go away. I find that moment when they climbed on the roof instructive for my life as a Christian.

Could it be churches have empty pews because we don’t take the initiative to reach out to those in need and bring them to Jesus? Could it be that we find reasonable excuses to disregard the needs of others?

You see, faith demands that we take initiative to bring others to Christ. It wasn’t as if these four friends lived next door to the house where Jesus taught. The scripture implies that the paralyzed man and his friends journeyed over time and distance until they caught up with Jesus. It was an exhaustive effort to carry their friend across hill and valley to reach Jesus.

They didn’t wait for Jesus to come to their village. They didn’t send a messenger begging for Jesus to come for a visit. They didn’t wait for Jesus to just happen by. They didn’t simply tell their friend to find his own way to Jesus. They dropped what they were doing. They picked up the bed and they carried their friend to Capernaum and cared for his needs along the way.

What could happen in our churches if we took the initiative to bring others to Christ? To be enough of a friend to pick up the litter and carry it over time and distance until our hurting friend found the spiritual healing he or she needed and desired. Faith requires us to take the initiative to bring the lost and hurting to Jesus. Faith without service is no faith at all.

There is more to learn in the example of these four friends.

Could it be that churches have empty pews because Christians give up when challenged? Could it be that those who need our help get turned away at the door because we would rather just listen to God’s word than live it?

When these four friends arrived at the house they found every natural entrance blocked by the crowd. Carrying a paralytic and pushing through the unyielding wall of humanity proved impossible. It seemed they had come all that way for nothing.

They could have blamed the unsympathetic crowd. The poor choice of venue that didn’t allow enough people inside. They might have even blamed the paralyzed friend for hurting himself in the first place. When faced with the obstacles, they could have simply gone home. Their faith would not allow them to give up so easily.

Instead, they refused to let the obstacles stand in the way of the healing their friend needed. They found another way. They climbed to the roof and dug in.

You see, sometimes faith requires us to carry the litter to the roof and start chipping away at the dirt and branches until the hole is big enough to let us lower a hurting soul at the feet of our Lord. Faith demands persistence.

Persistent faith digs through a roof. Persistent faith wraps a rope around our hands to bear the weight of those in need.  Persistent faith often leaves us with dirt on our faces, cuts on fingers and rope-burned hands.

Yet, this much is true. When we take the initiative to bring others to Christ and when our faith is persistent in pushing through every obstacle that might prevent us from introducing others to our savior, good things will happen. We will find the power of Christ available to heal and help those in need.

What would happen to the empty pews in our churches if we took the initiative to introduce the world to Jesus? What would happen to the empty pews in our churches if we never gave up or gave in to the obstacles and distractions that stand in the way of ministry and service.

I suspect we might have a hard time finding a place to sit…and that would be just fine.

God’s Perfect Roadmap

Author’s Note: This week finds me in Peru beginning a mission trip with my church in one of the most impoverished area near Lima. The following devotional thought is an excerpt from my third book, God’s Mirror Image: 15 Ways You Can Live A Christ-Like Life.”

Background Passages: Genesis 1:27; John 14:9; Matthew 5:1-12

I pored through a number of old 35mm slides, pictures taken by my parents when my siblings and I were small. I enjoyed sharing those captured memories with my children and grandchildren. Fascination grew as we recognized family resemblances across generations…the power of genetics, I suppose. If I heard it once, I heard it several times, “I see your Dad in his eyes.” “You look so much like your uncle at that age.” “She is the spitting image of your mother.”

There is some measure of joy in knowing that we physically resemble those most dear to us. Then, I wonder, when others look at us, do they see how closely we resemble Christ in spirit and deed? Can the world see Jesus…see God…in us?

“So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.”

On the surface, being created in the image of God seems such a complex theological concept requiring a deeper understanding of the nature and spirit of the Creator himself. But, it’s really not that hard. Jesus told his disciples, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” In other words, we find in the character of Jesus Christ, the very nature and spirit of God. The image of God reflected in the life of Christ. To be the image of God in our world, as we were created to be, simply requires us to be like Jesus.

So, how are we to know what that looks like?

Every gospel story reveals the character of Christ. We can identify in Jesus God’s compassion, love, faith, humility and honesty. We find in his teachings keys to living as the image of God.

People flocked to Jesus early in his ministry in Galilee, drawn by the candor and consistency of his teaching and the power of his healing. As he left Capernaum one day, the crowd pressed around him to hear his words and feel his touch. Eventually, somewhere on the northeastern shore of the Sea of Galilee, he sat himself down on a rocky hillside and began to teach. Matthew records this event as the Sermon on the Mount.

Rather than being a single event, the Sermon on the Mount may be a collection of ideas that Jesus taught over and over again throughout his ministry captured by Matthew as a summary of his teaching themes. William Barclay, in his commentaries, suggests as much.

One of the most beloved segments of this passage is known as The Beatitudes, a passage that unveils the character demanded of those who desire to be a part of the kingdom of God. When you look at the passage and look at the life of Christ, you’ll find that Jesus modeled each characteristic in his daily walk.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Jesus teaches about kingdom living. Think of them as proverbs or declarations. Assuring us that we will feel blessed as a result of our actions or attitudes that align with the expectations of the Father. That demonstrating these character traits leads to promised rewards.

Consider the word “blessed.” Some translations substitute the word “happy” rather than “blessed.” But, “happy” feels too frivolous. Too superficial. Think, rather, in terms of the contentment, joy and peace that comes from being in right relationship with God. It cannot be dampened by external circumstances.

Happiness may be a part of the equation, but take it deeper into the heart of our relationship with the Father. One commentary called being blessed “a pledge of divine reward for the inner spiritual character of the righteous.” I like that. Jesus promises that if we live in such a way as to reflect the character of Christ, we will be filled with inner peace and joy.

Focus on the specific character demanded of those who would be a part of the kingdom of God and the promise that follows. Blessed are…

…the poor in spirit.
To be poor in a financial sense is to be destitute. To be poor in a physical sense is to be oppressed. To be poor in the spirit is to be humbled, to live without arrogance or self-sufficiency. It speaks to the person who recognizes his or her sinful nature; who comes to God each day with a contrite heart; knowing that God’s grace is an unmerited gift that promises a life within the kingdom of God.

…those who mourn.
Everyone in this life will experience sadness and grief. Such mourning is a natural part of the ebb and flow of life. Here, Jesus speaks of those who mourn for a lost world; for the sinfulness that serves as a barrier separating us from God…from the relationship he desired with us when he created us. If we don’t grieve for the lost we will never feel compelled to share the love of Christ with a ruined world. God will provide comfort for those whose hearts break when confronted by sin and disbelief. Comfort which allows us to continue the hard work of reconciling a lost world to the one who loves them so much.

…the meek.
Think of meekness not as passivity or weakness. That is the world’s definition. Its first century meaning carries an idea of self-control…gentleness…kindness…all fruits of the spirit identified by Paul. The meek control their instincts and impulses, harnessing the passion and power within them to build and edify, to lift up rather than tear down. They see all things through the eyes of empathy, hearts free of evil intent and purpose. These are people who treat everyone with respect and dignity regardless of their station in life.

…those who hunger and thirst after righteousness.
Hunger and thirst represent our most primal needs. When truly hungry and thirsty, a body will do almost anything to secure food or drink. Little else seems to matter. To hunger and thirst for righteousness is to demonstrate that strongest spiritual desire to understand and act upon the will of God. Our passion to live for him takes precedence over anything else. Therein lies the promise. The one who seeks after God will have those needs satisfied. His or her life filled with the joy of knowing who walks beside you.

…the merciful.
Mercy is an act of grace. Despite our sinful ways, God offers his forgiveness, requiring only a contrite heart. It is pure, unmerited grace. Mercy is not a quality limited to God alone. As believers in Christ discover his forgiveness, mercy toward others ought to be a natural outgrowth of our hearts. People hurt us. Ignore us. Sin against us. Hate us. Persecute us. We face a choice: retaliate or redeem. Mercy finds expression in the kindness and compassion we extend even to those who hurt us. It is a quality borne out of the mercy God extended toward us even when we hurt him. As we forgive, so are we forgiven. That is the promise of God.

…the pure in heart.
When the Bible speaks of the heart, it speaks to the center of will, the choices we make. Pure in heart means the decisions we make, the desires we hold, the intent of our thoughts and deeds must be unblemished with sin, wholly pleasing to God. The purity of our hearts lies at the center of every characteristic proclaimed in the beatitudes…our mercy, our quest for righteousness, our meekness and humility. Jesus told Nicodemus, “You must be born again” to suggest a spiritual change in his heart. To take that which was unclean and purify it from all self-interests and desires.

Jesus promises those who would listen that the pure in heart would see God. There is certainly within this statement a promise of our life eternal in the presence of the father. It might also suggest that the pure in heart have within them the capacity to see God in every circumstance…seeing his presence in life’s heartbreaks and horrors as well as its blessings and bounty.

…the peacemakers.
The kingdom of God is a kingdom of peace and yet we are too often at war with one another. The broken relationships, the societal divisions, the political acrimony, the racial bigotry drive a wedge between God’s people. Joy comes to those who find ways of bringing people together in the love of Christ, reconciling others to God and to one another. This statement promises the peacemakers will be called “Sons of God.” The Old Testament called angels the Sons of God. Angel may be an apt description of those who act as God’s peacemakers.

…the persecuted.
Living a lifestyle exemplified by the characteristics listed in the beatitudes puts one in a precarious place. The life God demands of his children is a life the world opposes and rejects. All who identify with Christ face a hostile world that tolerates in the best of times and terrorizes in its worst. God offers a promise to those who face such opposition. Hold on. Run the race. Keep the faith. God’s kingdom is yours forever.

I go back to the beginning. We are to live as the image of God. That’s how he created us. We discover how to do that by looking at the life of Christ and paying attention to his teachings. Throughout his ministry Jesus taught us how to live and modeled those choices every day of his life. He lived and breathed every action and attitude he taught in the beatitudes. If we are to live like him, as the image of God, we ought to do the same.

The promise of the beatitudes is not a pie-in-the-sky, wait for it, kind of promise. Barclay writes, “…the beatitudes are not pious hopes of what shall be; they are not glowing but nebulous prophecies of some future bliss; they are congratulations on what is…It is a blessedness (a joy and peace) which exists here and now.”

Live it and claim the promise.

*****

Author’s Note: You can pick up a copy of God’s Mirror Image at the Barnes and Noble Bookstore in Pasadena, Texas, or you can order it online from Amazon.com or any online bookstore. My other books are Put Away Childish Things and The Chase. All are available from Amazon.com or any online bookstore. If none of those options work for you, contact me at kirkallanlewis@yahoo.com. Thanks to all who take the time to read my books and my blog. It’s my prayer that God speaks through each word to each of you.

Strain the Camel

Background Passages: Matthew 23:23-24; 2 Timothy 1:7

I don’t much like weeding the garden. Well, that’s not exactly true. I hate weeding the garden.

Recognizing it needs to be done from time to time, I started in one small corner and began pulling up the blanket of milkweed that covered the topsoil. Painstaking and boring. I finished a 10-foot section of ground and looked back on what I had accomplished. All the milkweed was gone. Yet, there in the middle of the flowerbed I just cleared stood a very proud, 18-inch dandelion with a bright, yellow flower on top. So focused on the little weeds, I missed the big, ugly one right in front of me.

I wonder if that was what it was like for the Pharisees as they settled into their comfortable lives. So focused were they on complete obedience to the letter of law that they missed its intent. So comfortable in the routine of religion, they ignored the needs of a lost world, never practicing what they preached.

In other words, they laboriously pulled the milkweed, but ignored the dandelion. Jesus’ call to righteous living put a spotlight on the dandelion.

In the last days of Jesus’ ministry prior to his journey to the cross, we find him spending more and more time grounding his disciples in the deepest fundamentals of faith. The more he talked about the kingdom of God, the more his opponents protested, pressured and plotted to eliminate him.

Instead of a concentrated effort to discern the truth the Pharisees made a concerted effort to discredit every word he spoke. They picked at the minuscule and ignored the material. A master of hyperbole, Jesus challenged their hypocrisy. The religious leaders of the day took great care to cross every “t” and dot every “i” in their quest for religious piety. So focused were they on the legalities of religion, they missed the point of faith.

Jesus acknowledged that they regularly gave their tithes of mint, dill and cumin, but he chided them for failing to practice the important matters of the very law they claimed to obey. Where is justice? Mercy? Faithfulness? “You should have practiced the latter without neglecting the former.”

Jesus took them to task for their improper perspective. “You blind guides! You strain out a gnat, but swallow a camel.”

Had I been standing next to Peter and John that day, I’m pretty sure the snicker I failed to choke back would have drawn an ugly glare from the closest Pharisee and a pained glance from Jesus that said, “Really? That’s your contribution to this debate?”

What a powerful commentary Jesus made with a tongue-in-cheek comment. It is a brilliant analysis of the problems preventing the Pharisees from accepting the new truth Jesus brought to the world. They were so driven by the principle of not eating what they deemed unclean that they would use a cloth to strain their drink to make sure they would not accidentally consume the tiny, filthy insect. Yet, they never seemed to see the camel they swallowed whole.

Had I been walking next to Jesus later that afternoon, I suspect I might have apologized and rationalized my inappropriate behavior. “I’m sorry, Jesus, but that was a good line. Pretty funny. Did you see their faces?”

I think Jesus would have put his arm around me and said with a rueful smile, “It might have been funnier if it weren’t also true in your life, too, my friend.” As my mind reeled, I’d hear something about ignoring the 4” x 4” beam in my own eye.

I am, at times, guilty of the same Pharisaical behavior. The Pharisees practiced their faith. They made dedicated effort to comply with the ritual and rules, focusing in extreme measure on the “thou shalts” and the “thou shalt nots,” while spending precious little time on the “love thy neighbor.” Being right was a higher calling than doing right. I may not always be that different.

You and I live in a time when it’s fashionable to be hypercritical. To declare ourselves politically and socially holier than thou. You and I live in a time when pronouncing our truth rides roughshod over proclaiming his truth. When we love the sound of our own voice rather than seeking to sound the voice of love. Such arrogance drives people away from the very one to whom our deeds and our words should point and proclaim.

It’s easy to play the Christian card in a world struggling to do what’s right. Attend church every week. Sing a few songs. Sit through the sermon. Study his word in Sunday School. Gather up a few old clothes to give to the poor every now and again. Now, somehow, I’m better that that other poor soul. It’s not that these things are wrong. Like Jesus reminded the Pharisees, these are things that should not be neglected.

However, when we focus on the “things” of our religion to the exclusion of the crucial matters of our faith…justice, forgiveness, love, compassion, truth…

…we become critical rather than encouraging…

…we divide rather than bring together…

…we falsely elevate our standing in the eyes of God, and…

…we fail in the deeper call of Christ.

We wonder all the time how the Pharisees could be so obtuse, time and time again failing to recognize the truth of Jesus’s words because they threatened to push them out of their comfort zone. The truth is they lived in fear of the kingdom of God that Jesus personified. It upset their apple carts and threatened to pull down their carefully constructed walls that isolated them from a world in need.

Jesus tells them, “You put on a good front. Make a good show of things. But, your heart cannot see what I see. Until it does, you will continue to go through the motions, critical of those less “pious,” feeling safe and comfortable within the walls you built around you.

“Until you see the world through my eyes and move past the ritual and routine, you’ll keep straining that gnat and eating that camel.”

Jesus calls me to keep doing those things I ought to be doing, but to focus on what matters most. I must set aside the fear that keeps me from embracing in love a world that knows no better way. I need to step outside my comfort zone. To challenge what I believe and dig deeper until God teaches me the next thing I need to know to become more like him. Fear stared the Pharisees in the face and gripped their hearts. It does the same to me at times.

When he needed to encourage Timothy, the young pastor of Ephesus, Paul reminded him,

“God did not give us a spirit of timidity and fear, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.”

I also find that encouraging. My ability to move past the trappings of religion and into a full expression of faith rests not in my own ability, but in the power of God through his spirit within me. My desire to love others will not come from the goodness of my own heart but from a realization of sacrificial love and mercy God extends to me every day. My desire to see the needs of those around me and to, therefore, act, comes from the discipline to be more like Christ every day in every way.

I don’t know if you feel the same way at times, but, if we assume we’re doing pretty well at filtering out our gnats, maybe it’s time we both strain the camel.

A Life of Kindness & Love

Background Passage: Titus 3:1-8

Amid the endless jawing that sometimes occurs on talk radio, I heard one pundit refer to a political foe as a “Cretan.” Now that’s not a word you hear bandied about these days, but when it comes to arguing, it is an intelligent insult.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating the hurling of insults, intelligent or otherwise, as a means of proper debate and discourse. I’m simply saying, it’s not a word you hear often.

The word originates obviously as a reference to the inhabitants of the island of Crete in the Mediterranean. However, due to two literary references, the name became synonymous with people of ill-repute. Lacking in gravitas or moral character.

Epimenides, a 6th century Greek poet from Crete, insinuated that the people of Crete lacked ethical principles. Branded by their behaviors, he said they were known for stealing, harboring robbers and pirates. A few centuries later, Paul, writing to his friend and pastor, Titus, quoted from Epimenides, calling the people to whom Titus was ministering as “liars, evil beasts and lazy gluttons.”

Hang onto that thought. We’ll get back to it in a minute.

The focus of my personal Bible study in the past year centered on understanding what it means to live in the image of Christ. It was the motivation behind my last book, God’s Mirror Image. Since the book was published, my Bible studies have been more random in topic, but I’m amazed at how often the scripture I find relates to the idea of living in the image of Christ. As I studied the book of Titus this week, those instructive passages jumped out at me again.

Titus, a frequent companion to Paul during his ministry, proved to be a faithful worker and good friend to the apostle. At the beginning of his epistle to Titus, Paul called him “my true son in our common faith.” It’s a comment that suggests Paul might have been the one to lead Titus to Christ…that, as a result of the faith they shared, the bond between them was strong.

Paul commissioned Titus to serve as the pastor of the church in Crete. During the first century, there was a Jewish presence on the island, some of whom were probably present in Jerusalem during Pentecost. In Acts were told that many from Crete believed in Christ as a result of Peter’s teaching. Undoubtedly, they returned home, bringing a dynamic new faith with them.

The task of staying true to the teachings of Christ would not be easy for them in a culture that had a reputation for lacking in moral fiber. The pressure of culture on the church was the reason Paul sent Titus to strengthen the believers. To build their faith. To ground them more deeply in the scripture. To teach them how to live in the image of Christ.

I wonder what Paul might tell Titus today if he commissioned the pastor to minister to the church in the United States? What might he tell Titus today if he commissioned the pastor to minister to those of us in our country who claim to be Christians?

Our culture morphed over time from a people professing a faith and trust in God to one that too often ignores ethical principles. One that lacks in moral character. I’m not so certain that Epimenides’ rebuke of the Cretans might not be apt for Americans today.

That makes Paul’s words to Titus even more relevant for you and me for they describe the character God expects from his own. Look at Chapter 3. Find Paul’s encouragement. He tells Titus, “Remind the people…” Then, he provides Titus with a list of workable sermon titles…

“…Be obedient to authority…”

“…Be ready to do whatever is good…”

“…To slander no one…”

“…To be peaceable and considerate…”

“…To show humility to all men. “

Think about those instructions. Think about how those characteristics describe the nature of Jesus himself. What a great lesson for our personal contributions to the culture around us!

Paul suggests that our Christian humility should stem from the fact that, before Christ came into our lives, we were not that different from the rest of the world….

“…Foolish…”

“…Disobedient…”

“…Deceived and Enslaved…”

“…Living in malice and envy…”

“…Being hated and hating one another…”

As I read this passage so much of what Paul described reminded me of the divisiveness that exists in our world today. Not just the political rhetoric, but the radical anger and resentment we express toward anyone who holds opinions different from our own.

This is not the way Christians are called to live. Paul reminded Titus with a passage that hit me between the eyes. A passage that paints the perfect picture of the life of Christ that we are to model.

“But, when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.”

Remember, those words were written by the man to whom Jesus appeared when he was walking down the road to Damascus to persecute and destroy the church there. The man who held the robes of those who hurled insults and stones at a man who professed a faith in Christ.

Paul saw in that blinding light the appearance of one whose whole being radiated kindness and love. “Why are you persecuting me?” Jesus asked. Less an accusation as it was a challenge to live differently. Paul no longer saw a radical heretic when he looked at Jesus. He saw the love of God staring him right in the eyes…a love so bright it blinded him.

When Jesus, God our Savior, came into this world he was the epitome of kindness and love. He walked as those things personified. It is in kindness and love that we are to live and relate to the world around us. A life lived in the image of God.

Paul gives one further directive to his friend Titus that is so applicable today.

“I want you to stress these things so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone.”

The message reverberates through the ages, as relevant in the 21st century as it was in the 1st century. To live as God requires we must take on the very appearance of Christ. Live with kindness and love in our hearts. A kindness and love so bright that it blinds others to the false beauty sin uses to entrap and enslave. Let those characteristics dictate our words and deeds. Devote ourselves to doing good in all things. Healing the broken heart rather than breaking it.

In other words, Paul tells us to stop acting like Cretans and start living like Christians.

And, that, I think, would be excellent and profitable for everyone.

*****

God’s Mirror Image is now available in hard cover, paperback or ebook at Amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. Copies can also be purchased at the Barnes & Noble Book Store on Fairmont Parkway in Pasadena, TX.