Tag: Love

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.

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.

Six Little Words

Background Passages: Galatians 4:3-4 and John 3:16

We stitch together the wonderful tapestry of the Christmas story through the beautiful narratives in Luke and Matthew. We see the story played out by children in cute Nativity scenes in the foyers of our churches. The lyrics and melodies of O Holy Night or Mary, Did You Know place us amid the Christmas story, tugging at our hearts.

During this season we hear a series of sermons drawing us into the marvelous works of God unfolded his redemptive plan in the obscure village of Bethlehem.

What verses from the gospel capture your heart as you hear again the Christmas story revealed?

Do you listen in amazement at the faith of a young girl who sees through the frightening appearance of an angel to embrace the role she will play in bringing God’s child into the world? Do you sing with Mary her song of rejoicing as she catches a glimpse of the deeds her son will do? Do you marvel at the strength of Joseph as he defies cultural convention to take as his wife a woman carrying a child that is not his based on little more than an ethereal dream and a trusting heart?

Do you find a tender moment to sit in the depths of a dank and dirty stable as a young mother sings a lullaby to the baby snuggled in her arms? Do you sing with the angels on high as they declare glory to God on high for offering a peace that surpasses our understanding? Do you search the streets of Bethlehem with the shepherds hoping to just catch a glimpse of the promised one? Do you long to offer gifts as precious as gold, frankincense and myrrh to the king lying in a humble manger?

Do you, like Simeon, rest in the assurances of God because you know you’ve seen the savior you’ve waited on all your life? Do you stand with confused parents as another devout servant of the Lord tells you of the hardship that will befall the child? Do you fear for the life of God’s son as the family flees from a bitter despot, intent upon killing him?

What verse captures your heart at Christmas?

I love the story of Christmas as it speaks to the all-encompassing love of a Father in heaven who planned from the beginning to redeem a world that he knew would push him aside. Paul reminds us of God’s intent.

“So, also, when we were children, we were in slavery under the basic principles of the world. But when the time had fully come, God sent his son…” (Gal 4:3-4)

God kept his promises to an unfaithful creation. Continued to love his people. Found ways to temporarily recapture their attention. Welcomed their return time and time again only to see them lose interest and drift away. Despite the constant heartbreak, God never gave up on his cherished creation.

Then, when the time was right…when they were ready…when we were ready…to hear his words of redemption, God offered a new covenant through the life, death and resurrection of his son.

So, as much as I love hearing the familiar Christmas stories in Matthew and Luke, I find the greatest words of Christmas in the gospel of John.

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

The verse starts by noting the actor in this great work of salvation.

“For God…” God, the Almighty One, the Creator of all things, stirred with his finger each moment of history to ensure that which he created did not stray too far from the fold. He played the role of Good Shepherd keeping the wolves at bay until the time was right for him to act in an everlasting way. Man could do nothing to force God to act. Man could do nothing to make it happen on his own. Man invented the holiday, but God originated Christmas as an intentional act.

“…so loved…” It is hard to fathom the depth of that phrase. “For God so loved…” Discover in it a love beyond comprehension. God is the essence of unconditional love. His love will never be dependent on our actions. His love is sacrificial, freely given no matter how much it hurts him. No matter how many times his love is rejected. His love is offered as a grace gift.

“…the world…” Who, then, is the object of such all-encompassing love? The world. Not just a select few. Not just those who are obedient and good. He pours out his love for the just and unjust. The good, the bad and the ugly. We often restrict our love to those who look like us. Believe like us. Act like us. God’s love does not allow him to withhold his love from anyone. The world belongs to him and he loves all of it. That love compelled him to act on behalf of the world he created, the world he loved.

“…that he gave…” Love compelled him to give of himself without condition. A free gift available to all. He required nothing from us. Did not expect us to earn what he offered. No hoops to jump through. Nothing for us to prove. It was simply his present to you, to me and to the world around us.

“…his one and only son…” God’s gift was a part of himself. Wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. His son grew up in a disconnected world, finding himself tempted in every way like you and I are tempted to abandon the will of his father. Yet, Jesus found the strength to reject every temptation at every turn. God gave us his beloved son. In his spirit-led humanity, Jesus lived a life of complete devotion to the Father, the perfect role model for when we struggle to live up to God’s standard. Jesus taught us what it means to live in the image of God.

“…that whoever believes in him…” Jesus lived as an example for us to follow. He died as a sacrifice. He died for a purpose. God’s greatest gift was to give a part of himself as a substitute for the sin of the world, an unmerited gift of life that required us to simply open it. To accept it. To trust and believe in the one who gave his life for us.

“…shall not perish but have everlasting life…” Jesus’ resurrection from the dead symbolized the new life available in him. Our belief in Jesus Christ as savior frees us from a spiritual death and an endless separation from the God who loves us so. Our trust in Jesus Christ as savior is an offer of new life eternal. To be wrapped in the arms of God’s love in the now and the forever.

Without a doubt, there is sweetness and wonder in the gospel stories of Jesus’ birth found in Matthew and Luke. The Christmas stories in these gospels lift my spirit, filling my heart with joy and hope. But John shows me how God directed his hand through time to orchestrate one of life’s greatest Christmas carols.

When it comes to explaining the joy and peace of Christmas, the entire Nativity narrative boils down to six little words…

“For God so loved the world…”

Merry Christmas and may God bless us…everyone!

Peace, Love & Joy

Background Passages: John 14:20-27; John 15:9-17

They sit in our utility room unopened. Last Christmas, we were asked to hold onto two gifts for my niece. One is a heart-shaped stool that belonged to her grandmother. The other a present for my niece’s daughter. My niece knows they are here. Life circumstances keep getting in the way. Like most of us, when she thinks about it, the time is not convenient to pick up the gifts. Then, it’s out of sight, out of mind.

So, here we are eight months later, the gifts still sit in our house, unclaimed. Hold that thought for a bit. We’ll pick this up again later.

*****

What a strong sense of melancholy Jesus must have felt as he stood in the corner of the upper room listening to the light-hearted banter, a carry-over from the excitement of his triumphant entry into the city that morning. His disciples, buoyed by the throng that met them outside the gates and the welcoming shouts of praise they heard that morning, gathered for the evening meal, exuberant and enthusiastic.

The savior knew his inevitable fate. Knew the echoes of praise now in their ears would ring hollow in the days to come. Scripture tells us the disciples, caught up in the moment, seemed clueless to the end game soon to play out on a hill outside the city. Jesus stood prayerfully in that upper room. So much to say. Would they hear? Would they understand?

Over the course of the evening, the mood grew progressively more serious. More somber.

Washing of feet.

Pronouncing betrayal.

Breaking of bread.

Sharing of wine.

This do in remembrance of me.

Gone was the fervor of the morning. In its place, confusion and concern. It was an evening filled with questions.

Peter. “Where are you going?”

Peter again. “Lord, why can’t I follow you now?”

Thomas. “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

Philip. “Lord, show us the father and that will be enough for us. “

Jesus spent these last moments available to him to teach again the truth of who he was. Offering comfort that only he could give to those who would, in a matter of hours, find their world flipped upside down. These questions are familiar to us…as are Jesus’ answers.

To Peter. “Where I go you cannot follow…”

To Peter again, “…I tell you the truth, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”

To Thomas. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…”

To Philip: “Anyone who has seen me has seen the father…I am in the father and the father is in me…”

In response to their growing fears, he promised they would never be alone. That he would send a comforter and counselor. In the middle of that expansive narrative, he offered words we often forget.

“On that day, you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me and I am in you.”

Much of my personal Bible study over the past year explored what it means to live in the image of God. How are we to live the Christ-like life we are called to live? Given our sinful nature, it feels almost impossible. Yet, verse after verse of scripture shows us how…revealed in the life of Christ. This verse offers as great a hope that I can live in God’s image as any I’ve discovered. “…I am in my Father, and you are in me and I am in you.”

Living in the image of God is as simple as allowing Jesus, who is in us, to be the boss of our lives. To take control of every aspect of it. Of course, that’s easier said than done. I know. I fail miserably at it each day, it seems. Yet, the greater possibility exists that I can respond to the challenges of this world as God would like for me to respond because his presence in my life is a constant.

Give that some thought. He is in me. He is in you.

As the narrative in John 14 and 15 continued, Jesus touched upon three attributes of his life that he gifts to us when we place our trust in him. These teachings stemmed from yet another question asked by a disciple we don’t hear from often…Judas, not Iscariot, sometimes called Thaddaeus.

“Lord, why do you intend to show yourself to us, but not to the world?”

Thaddaeus missed the point. Jesus tried explaining to him and the other disciples that he reveals himself completely to those who call upon him. Those who place their faith in him. Those who love him. People who live by the world will never understand Jesus until they open their hearts to him.

The teachable moment continued. Jesus gave us more insight into his character, offering that which he possessed to his disciples, and by extension, to us. It comes as a gift, one we will need to accept if we are to live like Christ.

“Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. “

The world’s idea of peace is the absence of conflict. We know from Jesus’ life that living as he lived will not end struggle, but may in fact, add to it. Jesus said, “My peace I give you.” What is the peace he gives? William Barclay says it conveys the idea that we have all we need for our “highest good.” He wrote, “The peace the world offers is the peace of escape, peace that comes from the avoidance of trouble.” The peace Jesus offers, Barclay says, is the peace which “no experience of life can take from us.” A peace that is not dependent on life’s circumstance.

Jesus lived his whole life under the shelter of this peace, woven into his spiritual DNA. It was an essential part of who he was. Despite all he was sent to do and all he had to endure, Jesus’ spirit was never threatened.

His peace is part and parcel of the gift of salvation. As he lives in us, his peace is gifted to us. Not just any peace, but his peace. The same spirit of peace that carried him through every temptation, every trial, every test exists within us as his gift to those who know him. We just have to claim it and remove it from its box, allowing it to pervade every corner of our being. Living in the image of God, in the image of Christ, means abiding in his peace.

A few verses later in Chapter 15, Jesus continued his teaching to the troubled disciples. He asked them to picture a grapevine, declaring himself the vine and urged them to see themselves as the branches who can and must bear fruit.

Buried in that familiar passage is another verse that speaks to the very nature of Jesus Christ. Jesus personified love. It motivated everything he said and everything he did. He felt the all-encompassing love of his father and passed that love on to those he encountered. Love filled his heart and soul.

“As the father has loved me so I have loved you. Now, remain in my love…love each other as I have loved you.”

He revealed the depth of his love for those who believe in him…“as the father has loved me so I have loved you.” He loved his disciples, he loves us, with all the love the Creator holds for his created. It is not that way in a world without Christ. The world loves until it is disappointed. The world’s love turns quickly to ambivalence or hate, again, based on outside circumstances.

Jesus told his disciples to remain in his love. What is Jesus’ love? He provided the illustration.

“Greater love has no man than this, but to lay down his life for a friend.”

We are called to love one another. That’s not just a call to love other Christians. We are called to extend God’s love to our fellow man. Few of us may be called to mortally sacrifice our lives for another as Jesus did. Each of us, however, is called to personally sacrifice in service to those in need. Such selfless sacrifice provides evidence of our love.

The great news is that because he abides in us, we don’t need to rely on our human capacity to love. We get to draw from the deep well of God’s all-encompassing love within us. What a gift!

We see in the scripture that God has given us his peace and his love. He didn’t stop there. He urged his disciples to remain obedient to all he had taught them; to all God called them to do. Obedience to God’s will opens his gift of joy.

“I have told you this so my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Living as the world lives is easy. It requires little stamina. One just floats with the flow regardless of where it leads. Jesus told his disciples that his way was hard. Living in the image of God, standing firm in faith, demands we swim against the prevailing current. Yet, despite the difficulty surrounding the Christian journey, the path we follow ought to be joyous.

There is always joy in doing the right thing. Joy in living a purposeful life. Joy in letting Christ control your day to day living. In knowing you have been true to the commands of Christ.

Jesus lived his life on earth as the personification of peace, love and joy. These fruits of the spirit were embedded within his nature. They are part of the image we hold of him. A part of who he was as a man. Despite the rigors of his mission and ministry, no outward circumstance would ever strip from him that essential part of his spirit and personality.

Peace.

Love.

Joy.

Those life-sustaining characteristics he embraced are now embedded in all who believe in his name. He promised it! “You are in me and I am in you.” He gifted his peace, his love and his joy to each of us.

Here’s the thing. It’s not just that he put the capacity to experience these things into our hearts for us to develop and grow. His peace, love and joy in its fullnes reside within us already fully developed and available through the presence of the Holy Spirit. The indwelling presence of Christ in the form of the Holy Spirit gives us access to the heart of Jesus…to the all-to-often untapped potential and power of Christ in us.

To his peace.

To his love.

To his joy.

These great gifts sit in the utility room of our hearts waiting to be claimed. They will never be enjoyed and experienced until we pick them up. Take them home. Put them to good use. Our unclaimed gifts of the God’s Spirit keep us from living as the image of God.

Jesus said, “My peace, my love and my joy I give to you.”

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time we opened the package.

Forgiveness Without Limits

Background Passage: Matthew 18:21-35

One can’t be sure what prompted the question. Perhaps it was born out of a natural argument among men who traveled together days on end. Men getting on each other’s nerves after too much time together, staring into the distance from opposite sides of the road.

Perhaps the question popped into his head after hearing another rabbi expound in heavy monotone in the local synagogue about the law’s limit on human forgiveness.

Perhaps the question rattled around his brain after hearing Jesus teach about harmony among believers and dealing with the unrepentant sinner among them.

Whatever the prompt, Peter sidled up to Jesus one day with an honest question about forgiveness. “How many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me?”

The scripture Peter knew laid specific guidelines for forgiveness, declaring that you should forgive anyone three times. One was not obligated to forgive a fourth offense. The question Peter posed reflected the thinking of the day. Surely, there is a point where forgiveness is no longer expected. In essence, “When can I stop forgiving someone who hurts me?”

His follow up question suggests that Peter had a gut feeling that Jesus always lived in a “walk the extra mile-turn the other cheek” kind of world when it came to the law. He certainly saw evidence of Jesus’ boundless forgiveness in his time with his Lord. So, Peter exerted his opinion in the form of another question. “How many times shall I forgive a brother or sister who sins against me? Seven times?”

In the debate bouncing around in his head, Peter must have thought he would catch an “atta boy” from his Master for his magnanimous spirit. “The law says ‘three’ times. Let’s double that and add one for good measure. Now that’s turning the other cheek.”

Maybe it played out like this:

Jesus stooped as he walked
down the dusty path.
Picking up a chunk of gray basalt
along the side of the road.
“That’s a great question, Peter.”
Jesus bounced the rock in his hand a time or two.
Thinking about his response.
Casually threw the rock side-armed.
Bouncing it off the trunk of a cypress tree
60 feet down the road.

“I tell you, Peter.
It’s more than that.
You’re still too literal. Not seven times.
Seventy-seven times.

“We won’t get through this life
without someone hurting us.
Taking advantage.
Offending.
Insulting.
Happens in the closest families.
Happens within the fellowship of believers.

“How much do we damage all those relationships
if we put a limit on our forgiveness?
Doesn’t our limited attitude
set a substantial barrier between us and
those we are supposed to love?

“The law says three.
You say seven.
Both are limits.”

Jesus sat under the same cypress tree
he plunked with the stone.
Glad to get out of the summer heat.
His disciples settled around him,
taking a quick drink from a shared
water bag Nathaniel carried.

No heavy sermon.
No deep theology.
Just a tongue-in cheek story to teach
a powerful lesson about the
size of their hearts.

“The kingdom we’re trying to build here is different.
“Let’s suppose…”

Jesus then launched into a parable about a king to whom a servant owed more money that the disciples could imagine. 10,000 talents. Historians tell us a talent represented the equivalent of 6,000 days’ wages. Staggering! The number Jesus imagined would support a man for 164,000 years. Hear the laughter roll through the disciples as they could scarcely comprehend the outrageous fortune the man owed. Hyperbole of the highest magnitude. Jesus laughs with them. Sees that he’s captured their attention.

Jesus continues. The time comes to collect the bill and the king says, “Pay up or you and your family will be sold into slavery and all you own will be confiscated to repay what is owed…knowing full well the servant’s assets would scarcely make a dent in the debt.

The man falls on the floor promising to repay what he has no hope of repaying. Grasping at straws. Begging for mercy. Yet, somehow, the man’s contrite spirit touches the king deeply.

Jesus mimics wiping a tear from his eyes, “Your debt is cancelled. Go home.”

The disciples react with a chuckle and few comments about the king’s enormous wealth and the servant’s good fortune. Jesus waited until they settled down. His playful demeanor turning more solemn.

“Now suppose this very relieved servant…”

Jesus’ brow furrows in thought, eyes searching deeply into the heart of each disciple as he speaks. He explains how the forgiven servant encountered a colleague who owed him six months’ wages, a pittance compared with his former debt. Yet, the man whose debt was wiped clean grabbed his friend by the scruff of the neck demanding his payment.

That servant was in no better place financially than the forgiven one. Using the exact same words the first servant spoke to the king, the man falls on the ground. Begs for mercy. Promises to pay back a difficult, but not impossible, sum of money. Rather than extend the same mercy as he received, the man had the other thrown in jail until his debt could be paid.

The injustice described hit home with the disciples. Caught up in the story, they grumbled a bit, angry at the first servant.

Jesus becomes more animated as he continues the parable. His words coming more rapidly. “Now, when the king found out, he was livid and called the first servant before him. You wicked servant. I canceled all your debt because you begged me. Where is your mercy toward the one who owed you?”

The disciples pondered the words during the pregnant silence that hung in the air like a morning mist. Jesus added, “This is how my Father will treat you unless you forgive your brother and sister from your heart.”

*

I think Jesus liked Peter’s question. It gave him a chance to help the disciples sink the plow of personal belief a little more deeply in the fertile soil of applicable faith. It never crossed Jesus’ mind to make forgiveness a quantifiable event. Yet, the religious law of the day did exactly that, dragging the plow along the surface, setting the standard in shallow attitudes seemed to look forward to a day of retaliation rather than a time of reconciliation.

Peter stretched the legal limit as far as he felt comfortable. “I know you expect more from us, Jesus, than the law requires.” And, in that moment of inspiration, he doubled the law’s demand and added one to grow on. “Seven seems like a fair number,” proud of the forbearance it showed.

Jesus understood forgiveness as a way of being…a lifestyle choice. To Jesus, forgiveness was a way of relating to others. Thinking about others. Loving others. Forgiveness is nothing less than the way of Christ. If we are to live in his image, forgiveness must be our way as well. Not three times. Not seven times, but as an open expression of whose we are.

Picture Jesus. Visiting with the woman at the well, turning her from her troubled lifestyle.

Watch him. Writing in the dirt next to the woman caught in the act of adultery as the Pharisees who wished to stone her walked away with guilt laden feet. “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

See him. Wrapping his arm around Peter who lived for weeks with the sound of that rooster crowing in his head, “Feed my sheep.”

Forgiveness.

The way of Christ.

An infinite, life-altering act of grace.

In his book, Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis wrote, “Forgiveness is a lovely idea, until there is something to forgive.” A promising premise, in principle, until we face the dreadful reality of pardoning the grievous and unforgivable.

Our lives are filled with broken promises, bitter betrayals and hurt feelings. We cry over unkind words, licking our physical and emotional wounds, telling our stories of loss and pain at the hands of another. Underneath all of it lies the question of forgiveness. How can we move past the hurt and into the healing?

Jesus told his disciples that forgiveness flows from the heart. He meant that they must dig deeply into their innermost being and find a way to set aside the anger, frustration and bitterness. To offer sincere words of forgiveness wrapped in the warmth of God’s love, extended with a handshake or embrace.

If the greatest attribute of God in Christ is love, one could make an argument that forgiveness is the greatest expression of love. This much seems to be true…living in the image of God requires us to demonstrate boundless forgiveness. It’s not that easy.

I have listened in amazement to a friend whose son was the innocent victim of a drive-by shooting talk sincerely about forgiving the one who senselessly took his son’s life. I heard honest words of forgiveness from a woman whose beloved grandmother was killed because the drunk driver shared one too many glasses of wine.

How can we hear testimonies like those and still harbor resentment toward the person who sat in our pew last Sunday? How can we let a few ill-chosen words of a neighbor cut us off from the fellowship we once enjoyed?

When we start counting the offenses we suffer at the hands of another…adding up the chalk marks until that day when we can say, “Enough is enough…” then we’re living exactly like the first servant in Jesus’ story. While we ignore the 10,000 talents of sin our Father forgave us, we hold our offender by the scruff of the neck, demanding payment… unwilling to forgive even the slightest of sins against us.

I share breakfast and Bible reading once a week with a group of men in the community where I work. Every breakfast ends with the Lord’s Prayer. The model prayer offered a petition and an expectation, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Jesus said as much to the disciples as he wrapped up this impromptu lesson. I see him rising from the tree under which he sat, bending down to pick up another rock, bouncing in lightly in his hand. He reared back and threw it, striking another bullseye on the trunk of another cypress tree 60 feet farther down the road.

Setting off down the road again, he ended the lesson with a casual but cautionary moral to the story, “If you don’t forgive others, how can God possible forgive you.”

His disciples get up and follow with their plow set a little deeper in the fertile soil of faith.

The lesson Jesus teaches his disciples, he also teaches us. Peter shared our human tendency to limit forgiveness. But to forgive beyond counting is inhuman. It doesn’t originate from us. It is born of a heart changed by God through Christ and his indwelling spirit of grace living within us. Christ living in us. Us living in the image of Christ.

One Day

Background Passage: Luke 24:1-12

Creativity is a gift from God. I read a passage in a book with a well-turned phrase or hear the dynamic lyrics to a song and marvel at the ability of writers to string words together to creates a sound that reverberates in the heart of the reader or listener.

This week, I heard the song, Glorious Day, performed by Casting Crowns. Though the song was not new to me, I enjoyed its message and melody. This time my ears picked up on the familiar lyrics. Lyrics that sat me down among my teenage friends in the second pew from the back on the left side of the church in the First Baptist Church or Ropesville, Texas.

“One day when heaven was filled with his praises,
One day when sin was as black as could be,
Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin,
Dwelt among men my example is he.”

The modern tune had disguised the lyrics of the song from my youth. I’m not sure why my ears heard the words differently today. The overwhelming sense of spiritual nostalgia took me back to the foundation of my faith in that small rural community. If you’re older than 30 you will probably remember the words penned in 1908 by J. Wilbur Chapman as the song, One Day.

According to most stories behind this famous song, Chapman, a Presbyterian pastor and evangelist who preached during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, wrote a poem to go with a sermon he presented as a guest pastor at Stony Brook Bible Conference. He gave the poem to his pianist Charles Marsh who wrote the tune to the old hymn.

The powerful lyrics captured the essence of God’s plan for the world from the beginning of time. The first line confirms the pre-existence in time of Jesus, God’s son. One day dwelling in heaven. Receiving the praises of the angels for his glory and majesty. One day as God’s creation turned on the axis of selfishness, God sent his son to dwell among us as an example for us to follow of obedience and faith.

One day he is nailed to a cross, a grace gift offsetting the sins of any repentant soul. One day buried. One day risen. The eternal message of Easter.

Then, in an incredible fashion, Chapman crafted a succinct refrain that lays out the depth and breadth of God’s redeeming love.

Living he loved me.
Dying he saved me.
Buried the carried my sin far away.
Rising he justified, freely forever.
One day he’s coming
Oh, Glorious Day.

Though I love the tune written by Michael Bleecker, the melody doesn’t change the message. The old standard may well resonate with those of us who have lived long as recipients of his gift through Christ. The new tune may best bridge the gap between God and today’s contemporary seeker.

Whether you sing it in your mind the old way or the new, may its message connect. God sent his son to live unerringly. To love unconditionally. To die sacrificially . To be buried temporarily. To rise triumphantly. To come again eventually.

What a glorious gift of unmerited grace to all who claimed it that one day!

 

Fearless Love

Background Passages: Romans 12:13; I Peter 4:8-10; I John 4:18-20 and III John

“What should we do if we see one of you doing something wrong?” The question from my oldest son came out of the blue at the dinner table when he was about eight years old. My wife and I looked at each other in stunned silence as my mind raced through all the things I might have said or done since I got home that night.

My wife, unfazed by the question and probably with a cleaner conscious than mine, responded first. “You should tell us.” My son turned to me with a stern look on his face, “She talks to strangers all the time.” It seems our talks about “stranger danger” took hold. All I could do was shake my head and say, “I know. I know.”

What Adam observed is true. Robin will strike up a conversation with the woman she’s never met in the grocery line or the man at the doctor’s office…any time, any place, any one. She is outgoing and friendly to all she encounters. My son was right about her actions, but wrong in his interpretation. To my wife, no one is a stranger and all a potential friend.

I believe her ability to notice people, to make them feel special, is a God-given gift. In biblical terms, she has the gift of hospitality. Christian hospitality isn’t about fancy table settings or sumptuous banquets, it’s about servanthood. It conveys the idea of loving others in the name of Christ. While the Bible teaches all of us to love one another and to practice hospitality (Rom. 12:13), there are those whose spirit captures it in abundance.

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one of you should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.” I Peter 4:8-10

At its core, hospitality frames the loving outreach of the Christian faith…with hands, hearts and doors open to the world. It’s more than just unlocking your home to those in need of a place to stay. It speaks more to making connections with those we encounter…even if the connection is brief.

You’ll find the gift present in the families that welcomed into their homes victims of flood, fire and storm. You’ll find it in the woman who gave up a successful career to open a shelter for abused women and children. You’ll find the gift in the foster parent who loves so unconditionally for an uncertain time.

You’ll find the gift among those men and women who meet the needs of the hurting. End the isolation of the lonely, Embrace the rejected. The gift flows naturally because they love…and they love fearlessly.

John reminds us in his first letter, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.” I John 4:18-19

That leads me back to the first century to a man referenced just once in the Bible. A minor player with a major role to play. John wrote his third letter not to a church nor to a pastor. Rather, III John is the ancient equivalent to a quick text or email from the apostle to a dear friend named Gaius whose fearless love served as evidence of his gift of hospitality.

Let me give you the setting. During the first century the apostles journeyed through the biblical world planting new churches. As they moved on under the leadership of the spirit, they left those fledgling congregations in the hands of local pastoral leaders. To ensure these new believers stayed true to the teachings of Christ, the apostles would periodically send their personal assistants, itinerant pastors, to continue teaching the deeper truths of the gospel, helping them grow toward a more mature faith.

Inevitably, some of these local leaders felt they no longer needed the help of “outsiders.” John tells us of one such man. Diotrephes, a strong-willed man who enjoyed at little too much his prominent position in the church, constantly belittled the apostles and sent away unceremoniously the itinerant preachers sent by John to minster to the people. Diotrephes so loved “being first” he abused his authority, convincing the congregation to kick out of the church any who opposed him in this matter.

Gaius stood in the gap on behalf of these visiting pastors, defying Diotrephes and undoubtedly incurring his wrath. Yet, John encouraged Gaius to continue “walking in truth” (vs. 3) and praised him for his “faithfulness” (vs. 5).

You see, Gaius had the gift. He could make anyone feel welcomed. With Gaius, conversation flowed easily. There was something in his demeanor that instantly turned the stranger he met in the grocery store, the doctor’s office or the steps of his church into a friend. He was the kind of person who drew the lonely from their solitude.

Gaius saw the good in others and cast aside the arrogance of Diotrephes to embrace the teaching of those visiting preachers. To welcome them into his home. To share his food and provision. To invite others to hear their words of encouragement and hope. If that meant loving those he barely knew when other friends and neighbors called him a fool, that’s what he would do.

You see, like my wife, Gaius never met a stranger. He met everyone he encountered with fearless love and the open arms of Christ. Gaius had the gift of hospitality and he used it to God’s glory.

In the words of Jesus, “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother or sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.”

Most of us love fearfully, afraid to welcome the strangers we encounter. Always careful to approach only those who look and act like us. Afraid that opening our lives to others make us vulnerable to heartbreak and hurt.

We need to see that John commends Gaius for using his gift of hospitality. Gaius’ heart and home extended comfort and provision to the traveling ministers sent by John to preach and teach in his absence, despite the fact that they were strangers to Gaius. Despite the fact that others turned them away. By opening his home to these brothers, John’s beloved friend became a partner with them for the sake of “the Name” and for “the truth.” Gaius made a difference in sharing the name of Christ and his gospel of truth.

Gaius’ actions thrilled John. He wrote, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.”

We’ve each been called to love because God first loved us. Those he gifted with the spirit of hospitality take love to a new level and it is fearless. What a changed world it would be if we all put it into practice.

*****

Author’s Note: This devotional thought is the second in a series of posts about some of the unsung heroes of the New Testament. These men and women, in many ways, carried the responsibility of the spread of the gospel in first 50 years after the ministry of Christ. By putting together the limited biblical references to their work and filling in the gaps with a little imagination, we find ways in which we, as ordinary Christians, can a heart for ministry in the examples they set.

 

Faith Amid the Sorrow

Background Passages: Job 3:24-26; Romans 12:9-13

He sat on the ground covered in the dust, overwhelmed by all that occurred to him. He lost everything and faced rebuilding what remained of a shattered life. Shaken to the core by circumstances beyond his control, Job revealed the anguish in his heart.

“For sighing has become my daily food; my groans pour out like water. What I feared most has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me. I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil.”

When I offered my last devotional post two weeks ago, my family and my community braced for what our weather forecasters called a “major flood event.” I know enough to know that forecasting remains ever an inexact science with constantly changing variables and frequently reflects the worst case scenario. Their suggestion that rains brought by Tropical Storm Harvey might exceed 50 inches seemed outlandish. This time they pegged it. My neighborhood received in excess of 51 inches. Other areas of Houston experienced more.

My family and I remain thankful our homes did not flood, but many across our area and all of southeast Texas were not as fortunate. During the storm it seemed it would never stop raining. The waters rose and fell in the streets and yards, depending on the strength of the rain at that moment, until the rivers, creeks, bayous and drainage ditches spilled over their banks. Then, the waters just rose.

Some people faced imminent threat to the lives of their families. First responders and complete strangers went out in waves of high water vehicles and small boats to bring thousands trapped in their homes to the relative safety of hastily improvised shelters. Many more thousands huddled on furniture or upstairs as the waters climbed inside their homes. By the time the rains stopped, thousands of homes were flooded.

Those who experienced the flooding stand in a mess not of their making and face rebuilding what remains of their storm-shattered lives. You can read Job’s words etched in their bewildered faces, “For sighing has become my daily food.”

Surveying the damage, many of them feel uncertain as to where to begin the process of cleaning up. What items must be discarded? What can be saved? For those on fixed retirement incomes or those without flood insurance, they wonder how they will find the funds to rebuild what was destroyed or replace what was lost? In the midst of such uncertainty, they find no peace. No quietness. No rest. Only turmoil.

Two things impressed me in Harvey’s aftermath. First, the victims of the flood who I knew to be followers of Christ, though obviously struggling at times to hold it together, remained steadfast in their faith. You see, sorrow and faith are not mutually exclusive. Job’s distress ran deep, but so did his faith. His heart bore the burden of his grief at the same time it welcomed the hope borne of his faith. Our friends and neighbors showed the same faithful resolve while grieving over all that was lost. I found their strength inspiring.

My church, like so many other churches and organizations, like so many individuals, jumped in to provide resources and labor to help victims of the storm begin walking down the road to recovery. Many of our people worked the shelter and processed thousands of requests for supplies of clothing and food donated from across the country. Our “mud out” teams gathered each morning and went to homes in our community to help friends and neighbors clean up from the storm.

God taught another lesson in the two weeks since the storm. Christians do not hold a monopoly on caring. Across the area, there were people of every background helping others in need. Basic humanity compels us to reach out to those who hurt. The world responds to dramatic need out of a sense of community service and charity. However, for followers of Christ, the motivation to help ought to exceed obligations of social concern and benevolence.

The Christian response ought to be grounded in love. The Greek language of the New Testament used four unique words for “love.” There is God’s love (agape) for his creation and his children. There is a romantic or sexual love (eros) and the love for a friend (philia).

Paul offered another word used only this time in the New Testament. It is the word storge. It is a love derived from natural attachment. The love a mother feels the moment she sees her newborn baby for the first time. The love flows automatically because of the natural connection between them.

Paul, in writing to the church in Rome, said the Christian response of human need must surpass social concern or civic duty. When facing human need, followers of Christ ought to demonstrate God’s love to everyone for no other reason than he created them in his image just as he created those of us who call him Savior. It is not a love that can be faked.

Look at what Paul said in Romans 12:9-13.

“Love (storge) must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”

Throughout the week as teams went into homes to jump start the process of recovery from the storm, this passage manifested itself in the lives of the volunteers time and time again. Not just in the things that were being done, but through whispered words of encouragement. The hug or the arm around a sagging shoulder. The expressions of hope. The prayers voiced aloud and uttered in silence. The sharing of resources.

The countless acts of love demonstrated over the past two weeks did not end the anguish for those who suffered so much. It is my hope that each piece of sheetrock and insulation removed made recovery come a little quicker; a little easier.

As I spent my time at work, I could not help but see God’s love at work as his people put their love and faith in action. Amid the ugly devastation of the past two weeks, I find that beautiful.

*****

Our prayers go out today for all of those in the Caribbean whose lives were forever changed by the devastation in the wake of Hurricane Irma. We pray for safety and comfort for the people of Florida who face the strength of the storm and the inevitable struggle for recovery in the coming days.

Their Father’s Eyes

Background Passage: I Corinthians 13:4-8a

I’m certain there were a great many times during my sons’ teenage years when they agreed with Mark Twain when he said, “When I was fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around.” Hopefully, now that both of them are in their 30s, they might agree with Twain’s finished thought. “But, when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned.”

We celebrate Father’s Day this weekend. Last year I wrote about my Dad and the genuineness and integrity he brings to life each day. This weekend, he is in a rehab hospital recovering from hip replacement surgery at the age of 91. He is a good, good man.

I think back on all I learned from Dad and hope I put the best of those things into practice during my 38 years as the father of two sons. Adam and Andrew witnessed my response through the ups and downs…through life’s turmoil and trauma and its beauty and blessings. They saw me struggle when the fog of life shrouded my sense of direction. Hopefully, they also saw me press on until the mist lifted and the sun shone brightly again. Hopefully, they learned during all those days what not to do as easily as they learned what to do.

I have watched my two sons grow and mature into amazing husbands and fathers. Granted, neither of them has walked yet in the furnace of fire that will surely engulf them during the teenage years to come. Based on what I have seen so far, I think they’ll do fine.

So, on this Father’s Day, while I am eternally grateful for the example of my own father, I am equally blessed by the example of my sons.

I rejoice also knowing that both of my sons know first-hand the love of Christ and live each day in faith and commitment to him. Their relationship to Christ guides their relationships with their wives, their children and all those they encounter. They live as a witness to their faith by telling their kids about Jesus and his love for them and by bringing their children to church. As a result, the seed of grace and faith have already been planted in the lives of grandchildren. This testimony of faith is the greatest gift my sons will give their children through all the days of their lives.

Both my sons married well. God led them to two women who complement them in every way. Adam’s wife, Jordan, and Andrew’s wife, Melissa, are delightful additions to our family. It is obvious to me that Adam and Andrew adore them. Love is evident at its deepest level. Visible in meaningful ways. I’m grateful that they listened as God put those two women into their lives. They are stronger men and better fathers because of these exceptional young women.

Adam and Jordan have two sons, Eli, 6, and Josiah, 4. Andrew and Melissa have two daughters, Lena, 2, and Amelia, 6 months. These children recognize at some level the love their parents have for one another, even if they may be too young to fully understand it. It is another beautiful gift my sons give their children.

The two families joined us at our house today to celebrate my Father’s Day. It was good to have them here. The house was noisy, busy with the echoes of childish laughter and the stomp of running feet throughout the house. Sublime perfection.

Because I had this thought in mind for this devotional, I watched more closely the way my sons covered my grandkids in love. The passage of scripture that came to mind was not one of those traditional Father’s Day scriptures. Paul’s words in I Corinthians 13 jumped into my heart.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

I watch my sons playing with their children, spending quality time with them, and this is what I see. A love that is both patient and kind, expressed in arms that enfold them. Words of encouragement that build a child’s self-worth. A love that disciplines when necessary…not in a hateful or reactive manner, but in an instructive way. The fatherly guidance children need to understand the nature of right and wrong. Lessons that teach acceptable behavior and how God wants them to live. It is a love that guides and seeks the best for the child. The love I see in their eyes as they live life as a parent is protective, trusting, hopeful and constant. It is, I know, a love that never fails.

So, I watch them and think, “Maybe I didn’t screw them up after all.”

We like to talk about children who look like their parents. We say, “He has his father’s eyes.” Gary Chapmen wrote a song in 1979 that shows he understands that phrase in a different way. He saw in his own father a man who found the good in everyone and every circumstance. A man whose eyes reflected compassion and empathy. Chapman’s hope expressed in the first verse is that others will see in his own eyes what he saw in his father’s eyes. He then takes the last verse to a deeper level, reminding us that the world ought to see the loving eyes of our heavenly father reflected in our own.

I truly don’t know what others might see of me when they look into the eyes of my sons. I hope my influence has been a positive one. What is most important to me is that others see the eyes of Christ in the eyes of my sons because that’s what I see. For in their eyes, I see…

“Eyes that find the good in things,

When good is not around;

Eyes that find the source of help,

When help just can’t be found;

Eyes full of compassion,

Seeing every pain;

Knowing what you’re going through

And feeling it the same.”

In my mind, Adam and Andrew have their heavenly Father’s eyes that shine with compassion and empathy in their relationship to their wives, their children and the world around them. An earthly father cannot hope for more.

As I watched the frenetic activity around me today, I prayed that my grandchildren someday realize what a blessing it is to be wrapped in their father’s love. I pray they have their fathers’ eyes…as well as Father’s eyes.

Walk a Mile in Their Shoes

Author’s Note: I originally published this devotional two weeks ago, but my blog site developed some issues. While it posted on my personal webpage, www.drkirklewis.com, it did not get sent to my subscribers or shared on my social media pages. We’ve managed to repair our social media access (I think), but the subscriber links are still down. We’re working on it and hope to have things back in order soon. I sincerely apologize.

Background Passages: Hebrews 13:3; Luke 6:31-36; Philippians 2:5-8

Cecil Rhodes, the British statesman and financier who used his wealth to endow the famous Rhodes Scholarship, had a reputation for his elegant fashion sense and impeccable dress. One year, Rhodes invited one of his scholarship recipients to his home to dine with him and a number of England’s well-to-do.

The young man came from a poor family. He wore his best suit to dinner, though stained and a little too small. He was embarrassed upon his arrival to find all the other guests in full evening dress. Rhodes, dressed in his tuxedo, was about to enter the dining room when he saw the young man and his discomfort. He went back upstairs, appearing at the dining table a few minutes later in a shabby, old blue suit.

Rhodes understood the distress the young man felt. Rather than add to the misery of another, he set aside his personal preference to connect with this young man of promise.

Empathy.

Empathy feels what another feels. Sees the world from another’s perspective. Understands as fully as possible what another experiences. It is one thing to feel, see and understand the life of another. It’s a great first step. But, it seems to me, true empathy compels us to act…to walk an extra mile.

We can imagine horror experienced by the family whose home is wiped out by flood or fire. We have difficulty at times imaging the struggles of learning disabled when learning comes easily to us. We struggle in our response to those who are depressed if we ourselves have never experienced hopelessness. Empathy is difficult.

Empathy is also inconvenient, especially when life is going our way. I can see the plight of the poor and the afflicted, but do not wish to sully my hands in the work it would take to help them work through their own difficulties. We rationalize the distance we keep by blaming them for their own predicament.

As he closed out his letter, the writer of Hebrews exhorted believers to “Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.”

Those encouragements go far beyond simply feeling sorrow or sympathy for those who are troubled. It calls upon us to feel with them as if the suffering were our own. To put ourselves in their shoes. To see the world…and ourselves…through their eyes.

Jesus, the personification of God’s empathy toward a lost world, shows us the full expression of empathy as he introduces to us his concept we know as the Golden Rule. He taught that one could sum up the entire content of the Old Testament law and prophets by “doing to others what you would have them do to you.” To act in ways toward others as you wish others to act toward you.

The concept Jesus introduced was not a new concept. Many other religions and philosophies offer a similar message, though often presented in negative form. In ancient Egypt, the statement read, “That which you hate to be done to you, do not do to another.” In ancient Greece, “Do not do to others that which angers you when they do it to you.” Self-preservation is not empathy.

When Jesus asks us to treat others as we want to be treated, he is not saying: “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” It’s so much more than that. It is a proactive directive. Empathy takes pre-emptive action to meet the needs of others because we feel the distress as if it were our own. So, we act, treating others as we would hope others would treat us if we found ourselves in similar circumstances.

We’re not simply to avoid doing things that hurt others because we don’t want to be hurt in the same way. Instead, every action toward others should be expressed in the love of Christ. He’s saying: Take the risk of giving your time, your energy, your resources…in essence, giving yourself… to ease the pain of another whether that person is a friend or stranger.

Jesus followed this command by telling us how to live an empathetic life. He explained, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that…Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything in back…Be merciful (other translations use the words ‘compassionate,’ ’empathetic’), just as your Father is merciful.”

Living a Christ-like life teaches us that religion and faith are not a just set of beliefs. It is not the dogma of the day. Christianity, if it is to be viable and real in our lives, is about what we do for the poor with too little to eat, too little to wear and little or no shelter over their heads. It is about what we do for the sick and the elderly, in desperate need of our touch. It is about what we do for the disenfranchised of society who find themselves distanced from the opportunities we enjoy.

Jesus teaches us that empathy, as difficult and inconvenient as it can be at times, ought to compel us to act differently when we encounter human need. To understand the needs of others as if they were our own.

We have the perfect example in the life of Christ. Paul said as much to the Philippian church.

“Your attitude should be the same as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness.” Leaving the throne of God to become man is the ultimate in empathy. A deliberate, purposeful, life-giving act of empathy that led straight to the cross.

Today, it seems most people walk the world blind to the feelings and needs of others. If they disagree with us, if they live differently than us, if they respond to the challenges they face in ways we would not, we chastise them for not reacting as we assume we would react in similar circumstances. I’m not sure we will ever impact the world for Christ until we can walk a mile in their shoes.

I hope God challenges all of us this week to embrace the empathy of Christ as we encounter the needs of the world around.