Kirk Lewis

Decisions, Decisions

Background Passages: Matthew 4:2-11; John 1:1,14; Matthew 22:37-40

The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia, once served as the palatial home of the tsars. The gilded palace is now an art museum. One of the works of art one can see at the Hermitage is The Benois Madonna, painted in 1478 by Leonardo Di Vinci.

Named after the family who once owned it, this portrait of Mary and the infant Jesus have them engrossed in play together, their gazes lifelike to a degree that only Di Vinci could achieve. Above both the Madonna and Jesus hover faint outlines of a halo.

The use of a halo to represent the deity of Jesus is a common theme in art. I remember thinking as I viewed that painting several years ago that Jesus might be embarrassed by the depiction. A halo just wasn’t his style. It’s difficult to see the halo when you read the astounding words in the Gospel of John.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. (John 1:1, 14)

As steeped in theology as those words might be, I find them so incredibly comforting. Think about that for a second. God’s son who existed in him and with him and was, in fact him, surrendered that divine existence to walk among the weeds with us. The very image of God living the same life I live.

Jesus’ early life is shrouded in mystery that matters only a little bit. From the infant unnaturally born in a natural way, to a 12-year-old with a mind that soaked up scripture like the desert soaks up a raindrop. To the carpenter with calloused hands who emerged from Jordan’s waters to hear his Father kickstart his ministry by declaring, “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

Everything else in the years between those brief glimpses into his life remains a product of speculation and imagination. In my mind, he didn’t walk those 30 years with a halo on his head spouting the King James English. He lived those 30 years coming to grips with what it means to live as the image of God.

As he walked away from the Jordan that day, hair dripping with river water, with the words of his father echoing in his heart and soul, Jesus headed into the desert to face the options open to him in his ministry. To more clearly grasp his purpose.

Grady Nutt, in his book Being Me, wrote about Jesus’ time in the wilderness. “This remarkable young man with all his gifts and with his unique relationship to God—he even called God a word we would translate as Daddy—still had to decide who would rule his life and what he would do with his life.”

Scripture tells us that Jesus spent 40 days in prayer and fasting. It’s again speculation on my part, but I think this time spent talking to his father gave Jesus a clear understanding of the role he would play in God’s redemptive plan. Obedience to that plan would put him on a cross. It may not have been the first time the thought entered his mind, but his time in the desert, I believe, left no doubt as to his purpose.

I think the last time he got up from his knees with his stomach rumbling, it was with a sense of clarity and resolve. That’s probably why Satan began to put a bug in his ear, offering a few alternative choices.

You’ll find this account in both Matthew and Luke under a heading of “The Temptations of Christ.” The title gives a little too much credit to the tempter, it seems to me. Nutt calls the same passage, “The Decisions of Christ,” putting the emphasis on the response of the one who is tempted, not the challenge of the tempter.

I like that because when I’m being pulled to consider options other than what I know God demands of me, I have decisions to make. It’s less about the temptation and more about how I will respond to it. What I will decide to do. What choice I chose to make.

The good news is I only need to see Jesus, the image of God standing in a desert, to get a handle on the proper choice to any temptation. Take a look at a familiar story from the Bible.

After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then, the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus answered, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

Jesus said, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’” (Matthew 4:2-10)

In Christ, there is certainly the halo effect of God sending his son to become redemption for a sinful humanity. There is also the human effect of God sending his son, as Pastor Ray Stedman says, “to reveal man as God intended man to be.” In all Jesus did, in every aspect of his life as he lived among us as the image of God, we see a man acting as God desired us to act from the very onset of creation. The perfect example of God in human form.

From that perspective, suddenly life makes more sense. Throughout his ministry and certainly in this episode of his life, Jesus calls us to live faithfully by his words, his deeds and his decisions. He even summed it up in two simple statements to a scheming Pharisee.

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. The second is like it. Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

You see how he internalized those commands in his response to the choices in front of him while in the wilderness.

Twice Satan challenged him, “If you are the Son of God, then…” Notice the emphasis on the “if.” It isn’t an “if” in our English sense of the word, as though Satan was trying to make Jesus doubt his relationship to God. God affirmed when Jesus came up out of the Jordan.

Satan himself isn’t confused. He knew exactly who Jesus was.

The Greek text renders the word “if” more closely to our word “since.” “Since you are the Son of God, then”…why not do this instead of what you’ve been told you must do. This will be far less work. Far less pain. Far more glory and power.

What follows the “then” is a decision point where Jesus has to choose to be the one God called him to be. “Since you are the Son of God, then…”turn the stones to bread.” “…throw yourself down…” “…this can all be yours…”

Jesus’ entire life, his entire ministry, would be lived out against the backdrop of these decisions. The devil here is trying to get Jesus to move from the principle of dependence and trust in God. To do things his way.

It is the very essence of temptation for us as well. We face decision point after decision point attempting to get us to act on our own, independently of God and his indwelling spirit. “If you do this, Kirk, then…”

Let’s take a look at the decisions Jesus was asked to make.

You just think you’ve been hungry. Jesus had limited sustenance for almost six weeks. In one of the most understated bits of scripture the Bible tells us “…afterwards he was hungry.” The mere thought of turning a stone to a loaf of fresh baked bread makes me salivate right now. Imagine how Jesus felt when the temptation arose.

As miraculous as the temptation sounds, it rose out of a simple physical need. The temptation came because he was human and hungry, but that’s not really what the devil was saying. The implication is that God left him in the wilderness to starve. That God no longer cared.

That’s the way temptations come to us even today…through subtle suggestions that God could not possibly care for someone like me or you.

It’s the objection we hear to Christianity all the time. How could a loving God allow all this suffering in the world…war, famine, sickness. How could he let a child die? If there is a God, he must not care for us at all.

The devil suggested to Jesus that since God obviously didn’t care and since you are the Son of God, just take matters in your own hands. Meet your own needs independent of God.

It is the same decision you and I must make every day when faced with the choices laid out in front of us. Am I going to trust God or will I do my own thing. Answer my own questions. Make my own way.

Jesus’ response to temptation put life in its proper perspective. “Man shall not live on bread alone.” You see, our deepest need, my deepest need, is not physical. Not now, not ever.

My deepest need is to stay in right relationship with God. To trust. Making decisions based on my own will or by trusting in my own abilities comes at a cost to that relationship. Every single time.

If Satan can’t push you off one cliff, he’ll try to push you off another. After Jesus brushed off his attempt to use his physical needs against him, the devil targeted his soul. The devil couldn’t move Jesus away from this trust in the father, so he opted to put that trust to the test.

Taking Jesus to the highest rampart of the Temple, he said, “Throw yourself off.” Then, he quoted some scripture of his own suggesting that the angels would never let anything bad happen to him…not so much as a stubbed toe.

He said basically, “Do it and everyone will see how much you trust God and how you are willing to put yourself in danger for them. They’ll flock to you. What a spectacle it will be!”

As powerful as his miracles would prove to be, they were not enough to convince many of who he was. His greatest displays of faith came in the quiet trust of his heart that rested on what God had said and revealed to him time and time again. The things he did to stay the course. His trust and obedience to his Father’s will made the difference.

When Jesus spoke again, he chastised the devil. “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” In other words, you can’t force God to act on your behalf. You can’t force him to change the conditions of life. That’s not the way faith works.

While it may not be as exciting as a swan dive from the top of the Temple, but a life lived obedient to God’s will, in his power and strength, provides the endurance and patience to deal with anything life throws your way…and to do it with joy.

As a last resort, the tempter took Jesus to a high mountain where he could see the world spread out below him in all its glory and beauty. Through subtle pretext and artful disguise, he said, “Worship me and I’ll give you authority over all of this.” The heart of the matter. “You will have power and will be exalted.”

Interestingly, Jesus came to win the world. To be Lord of all. To be exalted above all men so that “every knee would bow” and “every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…” as it says in Philippians. It was seemingly being handed to him on a silver platter without the agony of the cross. Yet, to grasp the heart of it you have to finish reading the verse. “…to the glory of God.”

That last part is the kicker, isn’t it? It sounds good until you realize the power, authority and the exaltation that come with the devil’s offer is fruitless unless God receives the glory.

Jesus chose again the appropriate response. “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.”

There lies the basis of our decision to set aside all that glitters and draws us away from God. To keep ourselves from being caught up in the quest for power and glory all our own. The only right decision is to worship and serve the Lord.

It’s such a heart thing to understand, as Stedman says, “To worship is to serve. To serve is to worship.” Only God gives any real value to life. The world can never give it. It is a decision that speaks to the deepest desires of the heart. To have a life that is worthwhile. To worship God only and to serve mankind on his behalf.

So, it seems to me these are the most important decisions I can make in the face of any temptation. Will I trust him? Will I be obedient? Will I worship and serve him? As it was for Jesus, my entire life is lived against the backdrop of these decisions. So is yours.

I’m drawn back to the beginning.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Not with Di Vinci’s halo around his head, but wrapped in humanness to show us how to live as the men and woman God created men and women to be.

Temptations will come, but it’s less about the temptations than it is about the decisions we make when they come. Somewhere out in that desert above the Jordan River, Jesus set a pretty good example for all of us.

Ambassadors of Reconciliation

Background Passage: 2 Corinthians 5:14-21; Matthew 29: 19-20; Matthew 5:9

One can imagine the sense of trepidation felt by John Adams as he stood outside the chambers of England’s King George III in 1785 shortly after being appointed by President George Washington as the first United States Ambassador to Great Britain. Washington desired to restore the damaged relationship between the two countries and establish commercial ties by persuading Britain to open its ports to American goods.

In his writings prior to the Declaration of Independence, Adams said that George III had “plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns and destroyed the lives of our people.”

Because of his past words and his personal involvement in the fight for independence, Adams was uncertain as to how he would be received by the king, Adams wrote to Secretary of State John Jay, “It is not to be expected that I should be cherished or beloved.”

Despite his misgivings, Adams accepted the appointment and traveled to England.

As he presented his credentials to the king, Adam’s offered a prepared introduction, expressing the hope that he could be an instrument in “restoring an entire esteem, confidence and affection—or, in better words, the old good nature and the old good humor between people, who, though separated by an ocean, and under different governments, have the same language, a similar religion and a kindred blood.”

The ensuing conversation leads to the first steps toward reconciliation between the United States and Great Britain. As the direct representative of the one who sent him, reconciliation of differences is often the first order of business of any ambassador from one country to another.

In our focal passage in 2 Corinthians, Paul said that as Christians “we are Christ’s ambassadors.” As a result of his experience on the road to Damascus, Paul felt commissioned by Christ to reconcile the differences between Christ and the world, especially the Gentile world, as his direct representative.

At the beginning of every ambassador’s tenure of service in a new country, the ambassador must meet with the country’s leader and present his or her credentials, his authority to speak on the leader’s behalf, just as Adams did with King George III.

Every Christian, according to Paul, carries the title of Christ’s ambassador. What are our credentials? What is our authority to speak on behalf of Christ?

Take a look at our scripture passage.

For Christ’s love compels us for we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore, all died. And he died for all, that those who live shall no longer live for themselves for him who died for them and was raised again.

So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, a new creation has come. The old is gone, the new is here.

All this is from God who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry to reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God was making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. For God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:14-21)

It is, Paul says, the love of Christ that compels us or urges us to persuade others that Christ died for the sins of the world. He died for all. That his sacrificial death leads us to live for him rather than ourselves…to offer others the opportunity to also live for Christ “who died for them and was raised again.”

We are able to do that, according to Paul, because we no longer see others through our eyes. As we live in Christ, we are transformed into something new, one with eyes that view the world through the eyes of Christ.

Paul’s Damascus experience shaped him into a new creation. His physical blindness an apt metaphor for his spiritual blindness. He could no longer see Jesus as he did before. Now, when he opened his eyes, he saw the price Christ paid for Paul’s life and gave him a new life reconciled with God through his relationship with Jesus Christ.

To find our credentials as an ambassador of Christ, we need look no further than his great love that led him to the cross and the change he has made in our lives as the old gives way to this new creation within us. This is our authority from God to speak words of reconciliation to a lost world.

It does us little good if we never extend those credentials to those to whom God has sent us. If Adams had stayed in France rather than taking a boat to England when commissioned as an ambassador, his ability to restore the relationship between the United States and Britain would have been compromised. So it is with our call to be Christ’s ambassador. If we fail to take our commission into the world, we limit our effectiveness as Christ’s representative.

If that makes sense, then what is our mission? Jesus gave us our marching orders in Matthew 28:19-20.

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Jesus called us to make disciples and teach them a life of obedience to the commands of Christ. Paul took the Great Commission and further defined it as the ministry of reconciliation.

Washington sent Adams to restore the relationship between the U.S. and Britain. To re-establish the trade and commerce between the nations. That was his message of reconciliation.

Christ sends us into the world, according to Paul, with a message of unparalleled importance. That God reconciled the world through Christ’s death for the purpose of not holding the world’s sins against them. Christ took my sin and yours upon himself. Offered his life as atonement or payment for our sin. That, Paul says, is the message of reconciliation. That’s the word we are to share as his ambassadors.

I love the conviction and emotion that I can hear in what Paul wrote. Look at verse 20-21 and hear the sense of urgency and longing in Paul’s voice.

We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled with God…become the righteousness of God.

Think with me about this idea of reconciliation. It is not a complicated message. It is grounded in the very real death and resurrection of Christ. It is about Jesus. We can share our testimony. We can talk about sin and forgiveness and throw in a smattering of heaven and hell. Until we talk about Jesus and what he did for you and me, we’re missing the core of the gospel story.

In this passage, Paul talked about how his opinion of Jesus changed. Paul once opposed Christ, seeking to imprison or kill his followers. When Paul encountered the risen Christ, all that changed. When he understood the purpose and meaning of the death and resurrection of Jesus, it changed the way he saw Jesus and it changed the way he saw everything and everyone else. The message of reconciliation is about Jesus and his love for us…his desire for us to be made new and made right with God.

It’s the difference in a caterpillar and a butterfly. The metamorphosis within the chrysalis turns the thing that was once grounded into a new creature that can now fly. God took the initiative through Christ to give us that path back to him. To provide a way to restore the broken relationship. To take what was wrong in our relationship to God and make it whole and right again. To make the old us into a new us.

That’s why Paul’s words sound so desperate when he urges us to be reconciled with God. He knows what is at stake for the lost soul.

That takes care of the relationship between us and God, but the ministry of reconciliation has one more facet to consider. I thought about this last week as I taught a lesson on the Beatitudes.

The Beatitudes unveil the character demanded of those who desire to be a part of the kingdom of God. It speaks of the poor in spirit, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. And, it speaks of the peacemakers.

Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God. (Matthew 5:9)

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of peace and yet we are too often at war with one another. Unreconciled with each other. The broken relationships, the societal divisions, the political acrimony, the racial bigotry drive a wedge between God’s people and the rest of the world, It can also drive a wedge between God’s people when we aren’t right with him.

Blessedness or Contentment comes to those who find ways of bringing people together in the love of Christ, reconciling others to God and to one another. These are the peacemakers. The reconcilers. This statement promises the peacemakers will be called “Sons of God.”

I hope that makes sense to you because I like that connection. We are called into this ministry of reconciliation as his ambassadors, his peacemakers, to bring people into right relationship with God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We can’t do that That ministry is made more difficult if we’re not right with one another. Blessed are those who are peacemakers and work to bring people together as one in the body of Christ.

Washington entrusted Adams with a mission of great importance to the future of our country. God entrusts an even greater mission to his ambassadors.

This is a world that needs to be reconciled to God through Christ. A world that needs to hear our message of reconciliation: That Jesus died on the cross and was raised to new life for the sins of every man, woman and child. They must hear about Jesus. That all one has to do to be reconciled to God is to seek his forgiveness, turn away from the sin in his life and accept Jesus as Lord and savior.

For those who have not placed faith and trust in Christ, hear the urgency in Paul’s voice: Be reconciled to God.

For those of us who have made that personal decision, maybe it’s time we accept his commission as an ambassador to the world by embracing this ministry and message of reconciliation.

It’s my prayer that we might become ambassadors of reconciliation.

Gold, Frankincense & Myrrh

Background Passages: Matthew 2:1-12

They have been called, throughout history, magi, wise men, astrologers and kings. While a great many of these royal counselors were sycophants and charlatans trying to stay in good graces with their kings, some were, indeed, learned men, scholars, faithful royal counselors.

Scripture typically paints an ugly picture of astrology, often mocking those who practiced the pseudo-science. (See Jeremiah 8:2 or Isaiah 47:13-15) It is somewhat remarkable that men of this ill-considered standing within the Jewish community found their way to the Bethlehem home of Mary and Joseph, intent upon laying their gifts at the feet of the newborn king of Judea.

Some biblical scholars suggest that God reversed the normal Jewish expectations and drew the stargazers to Judea to open the door, just a crack, for his desire to call Gentiles to Jesus.

Popular images of the magi clash with Matthew’s account. The Christmas hymn We Three Kings gives them titles they did not earn. They were counselors, not kings.

While the travelers from the East brought three gifts, the exact number of wise men who came is not revealed. What is clear in scripture is their numbers were sufficiently large and their quest so politically charged, given Herod’s insecurities, that it clearly created a disturbance throughout Jerusalem.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and came to worship him.” When King Herod heard this, he was disturbed and all of Jerusalem with him. (Matthew 2:1-3)

The thought of a new king in the pipeline was an anathema to the paranoid Herod, but it drew a murmur of hope among the Jewish people eager to have a king to push out the Roman occupiers.

It’s a story you know because we see it played out in every Nativity scene. After their visit to the palace, the wise men journeyed on a few more miles to Bethlehem. There they found the toddler Jesus and his parents who had escaped the stable and found more permanent residence in a small house in the village.

On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down to worship him. Then, they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. (Matthew 2:11)

Throughout history, giving gifts to a king was a long-standing practice. It served as a sign of respect and honor given to one who bore the title and responsibilities of king.

I Kings tells us that the Queen of Sheba brought a caravan of gifts to the newly crowned King Solomon in Israel.

And she gave the king 120 talents of gold, large quantities of spices and precious stones. Never again were so many spices brought in as those the Queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. (I Kings 10:10)

Within Isaiah’s bold predictions about the coming Messiah, he speaks of these gifts.

They will bring gold and frankincense and proclaim the praises of the Lord. (Isaiah 60:6b)

Though I find them interesting, it’s not the magi who intrigued me this week, but their gifts. Gold. Frankincense. Myrrh.

If Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, took the time to specifically record the gifts, there must be a reason why. Each gift, according to folks smarter than me, matched some characteristic of Jesus and his work.

Gold has always been a precious and valuable metal. Gold was made into crowns, stamped and made into coins to be used as currency, and shaped into jewelry. The wise men brought gifts to a king. We can see the connection between gold for a king and Jesus as the King of Kings. They worshipped him as such.

What about the frankincense? Why is this one of their chosen gifts? Frankincense was used by Jewish priests in temple worship and burned as a sweet offering to God. It may be symbolic of the High Priest role Jesus assumes in our hearts. It is also a gift of worship, recognizing Jesus’ divine nature. Seeing him as one worthy of worship, honor and praise.

Then, there is the myrrh, a perfume connected with death and used in the burial process. In Mark, myrrh, mixed with wine, is offered to Jesus as he languishes on the cross. When the women who followed Jesus went to the tomb on that Easter morning to anoint his body, they carried myrrh with them.

While it is an odd gift to give a child, scholars see it as a hint toward Jesus’ sacrificial death. A gift to anoint his body in preparation for burial.

The scholars are probably right to share what those gifts meant symbolically for Christ. As our King of Kings. As one worthy of worship and praise. As one who came to give his life for the salvation of all who would believe.

The gifts point to who Jesus is. How he would live. What he would ultimately do for all of us.

Still, you know me, I read outside the box and between the lines. My journey to Jesus was not as arduous as the one experienced by the magi thanks to the godly examples of my Mom and Dad.

Though I came to him from West Texas, I still must come to him bearing gifts. If Jesus reigns as my King of Kings, what “gold, frankincense and myrrh” can I bring to him today?

What is my gold?

I could speak of tithes and offerings…returning to God a financial portion of that with which he has blessed me and my family. While I need to do that, I think it’s more than just that.

Gold was that thing valued most in the ancient world. A precious gift fit for a king. Bringing gifts of gold acknowledged the kingship of the one who sat on the throne. Maybe my gold is my willingness to declare Jesus as savior. Not just in that initial faith decision, but in the choice to make him the daily boss of my life. To yield and surrender my will to his each and every day. To declare him my Lord and king.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. For what good will it be for someone to gain the whole world but forfeit his soul. (Matthew 16:24-26a)

This is the first nugget of gold I present to Jesus—my heart, my life presented to Christ as I declare him Lord. It is not, however, my last golden gift. Once I declare Jesus as Lord, I give him a life of devotion and obedience.

Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who are brought from death to life and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master because you are not under the law, but under grace. (Romans 6:13-14)

This is the second nugget of gold to lay at the savior’s feet—that the life I offer him becomes an instrument of righteousness.

What Jesus told his disciples and what Paul declared to the Romans is pure gold for my life today. Gold any wise man would give to the Christ-child this Christmas.

What is my frankincense?

The gift of frankincense is about worship, honor and praise. God breathes the sweet aroma of my frankincense when I spend quality time with him. Do I spend time studying his Word and learning how his word applies to my life circumstances? Do I have the kind of conversations with him that reveal my heart and take the time to listen to his spirit? Does my time at church in fellowship with other believers and my time in fellowship with the world around me point always to God? Is the time I give him quality time in devotion and service to him?

This frankincense attitude is the message Paul left with the Ephesians. We give our time and energy to God because he will take that time and do so much more than we think possible. It is to his glory and honor and praise.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all the generations, forever and ever, Amen (Ephesians 3:21-22)

You see, worship is never about us. It is not whether I enjoy the music or the sermon. Worship is about giving glory, honor and praise to God with our whole being…heart, mind, body and soul. It’s about listening for his word, allowing it to make a difference in how we live and treat others.

What better way to worship him and give glory to his name than to walk in his ways? To set aside my own will for his will. To no longer think or act as the world does, but to change my mind and heart to mirror the mind and heart of God.

Therefore, I urge you, my brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice—holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then, you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:1-3)

Presenting my all as a living sacrifice is my frankincense offering to the one who has given me everything.

What, then, is my myrrh?

The myrrh given by the magi represented the sacrificial life and death of Jesus. His great sacrifice of love.

You see, the other gifts of gold and frankincense…my commitment to Christ as savior, my decision to follow him, my choice to worship him in every aspect of life…will be less meaningful if my life is not lived in sacrificial love…my myrrh. Paul says to live without love for God and others is a “clanging cymbal.” All noise. No substance.

The myrrh I give my Jesus means to pour myself unselfishly into the lives of others. To love unconditionally and sacrificially. It is the way Paul chose to serve.

Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. Likewise, you also should be glad and rejoice with me. (Philippians 2:17)

Like Paul, our labor for Christ….our gift of myrrh to him…is to pour ourselves into the lives of fellow believers and non-believers. To love them in ways that open the doors for them to come to know Christ as savior and to serve him faithfully.

This is our gift of myrrh.

Committing our life to Christ, worshipping him as one worthy of our praise and adoration and loving unconditionally, without reservation, requires sacrifice of our own desires, our own time, our own energy and effort. It is not easy. The cost of such discipleship is high. Jesus said as much.

Here’s the deal, though. When we give our gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus, he does the heavy lifting for us. He offers rest.

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-20)

The wise men laid their precious gifts at the feet of a two-year-old child in a hovel of a home in Bethlehem, worshipping him as the king.

Their example poses a question for you and for me.

Will you bring your gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus?

Peace and Goodwill

Background Passages: Luke 2:9-14; Philippians 2:5-8; Ephesians 2:8; John 14:27; Isaiah 26:3; Philippians 4:11-13

You may know Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as the author of The Song of Hiawatha or Paul Revere’s Ride. One of America’s best and most prolific poets, Longfellow penned many poems, novels and anthologies. I found out recently that he also translated many European literary works into English, including Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

Like many poets, Longfellow experienced his fair share of tragedy. His first wife, Mary Potter, died suddenly while he was overseas. After a long courtship, he married Mary Frances Appleton in 1843. Together, they had six children. By all accounts, the marriage was a happy one until Frances died tragically in a fire in 1861.

With the outbreak of the American Civil war, Longfellow became a stout abolitionist. His oldest son, Charley enlisted on the Union side only to be wounded severely. In December of 1863, Longfellow found himself entering the Christmas season as a widower, with five dependent children and his oldest son on the brink of death.

As he tended to his son’s wounds, imagining the sounds of gunfire and cannon that injured him, he heard the bells of the local church ringing on Christmas morning. Longfellow sat down that evening, intent upon losing himself for a few hours in his writing. The result of that late night session was a poem entitled, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. Throughout the poem, the poet seemed to believe that the strife of the world had drowned out all hope of peace on earth and driven out any semblance of goodwill toward men.

Until he penned the last verse.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;”
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, goodwill to men.

A few years later, the poem was set to music by British organist John Baptiste Calkin, becoming the familiar Christmas carol we know today.

The song, particularly the version sung by Casting Crowns, is beautifully poignant, confronting us of the turmoil of our world while also reminding us that God, through his son, offers peace and goodwill to a troubled world. Luke, the gospel writer, introduces the phrase to us in his account of the birth of Jesus. However, I might suggest to Longfellow that the phrase does not mean what you thought it meant.

When the angels sang their praise, they were not exalting God for bringing about the absence of conflict and harmony among all people. They were praising the father for his steps in bringing about, as Paul says in Philippians 4:7, “a peace that surpasses all understanding.”

Let’s take a closer look at the story as it develops.

After Mary gave birth in the dingy confines of a cave turned stable, God sent an angel…one angel…to announce the birth of his son to shepherds tending their flock in the hills overlooking Bethlehem.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:9-12)

It is after this initial explanation that the angelic host appeared singing in heavenly harmony.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

Longfellow and the King James Version deeply ingrained the phrase as “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” The New International Version of the phrase I used here reads differently. However, it is possibly more accurate to the original Greek, according to biblical scholars.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Amid his tragic circumstances, I’m not sure peace and goodwill meant the same thing to Longfellow as it did to Luke. As we enter this season of advent, maybe it’s a good idea for us to consider what the angels proclaimed to the shepherds with such joy and happiness.

First, the object of their apparent joy was not the anticipated peace and goodwill, but God who reigns in the highest heaven. By sending his son as a baby born in a lowly manger, God finally put in motion his path of redemption which he had planned before he breathed life into his creation.

Jesus, God’s son, would live his life among us, demonstrating how we are to live the life that God envisioned for us, ultimately giving his life in exchange for my sin and yours.

As Paul is urging the Philippians to model their lives after Christ, he tells them:

…have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on the cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)

The angels recognized that the child born in Bethlehem was God’s great gift to a lost and troubled world. It would be this baby wrapped in cloth and resting in a manager filled with hay that would through his life, death and resurrection make joy of salvation available and attainable by all people. (See Luke 2:10)

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

It was this act of great love and grace that brought the angels to their feet in rising chorus to give all the glory and praise to a Father/God for what he had just done. The cries of a child in Bethlehem still reverberate through the lives of all who believe.

Glory to God in the highest heaven!

I was reminded again of the beauty of that gift when my eight-year-old granddaughter Lena called us over Facetime to tell us that she had made her faith commitment to Jesus. As I took in the expression of joy on her smiling face, I could hear the angels sing.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, indeed! For every man, woman and child who trusts Jesus as savior, the angels still sing God’s praise. Jesus told us as much in his parable of the lost coin.

In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:10)

While the heavens were praising God, the angels acknowledged the peace now available to those who find favor with God. That’s an important distinction. The angel who first appeared to the shepherds told them a child was born in Bethlehem who would be the long-anticipated Messiah. He announced it as good news of great joy to all people. The Messiah. Sent by God. Making salvation available to anyone and everyone.

However, peace is the gift offered to those “on whom his (God’s) favor rests.”

Good news offered to all. Peace offered only to those on whom his favor rests. It begs the question then, on whom does God’s favor rest? God’s favor rests on “whoever believes in him,” according to John 3:16. This is the gospel message that the angels shared. This is the good news.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing, but it is the gift of God. (Ephesians 2:8)

I see a connection here through the definition of grace I learned as a teenager. Grace is defined as God’s unmerited or undeserved favor. When I put my faith and trust in Jesus, I entered into right relationship with God only by his grace. Only when he extended this unmerited favor to me upon my faith commitment to him.

Because that grace was extended, because God rests his favor upon me, I find his promised peace. It’s the same peace Jesus promised his disciples in the upper room before he was crucified.

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Every person in this world, whether or not he or she is a believer in Christ, longs for peace. The difference in the peace of a believer and a nonbeliever is where they acquire their peace. A nonbeliever depends on his own resourcefulness or his own resources. He seeks peace through social causes, financial gain or temporary distractions.

Believers find peace not from things the world offers, but from God. Where earthly peace depends on circumstances and individual ability, godly peace does not. God’s peace proclaimed and promised by the angels singing to shepherds transcends our circumstances.

We live lives that can in one moment be divine and in the next be dreadful. The peace God provides goes beyond those up and down seasons of life. This ability to find contentment, to live in the moment in the joy of Christ, regardless of life’s circumstance is completely dependent upon the depth of our faith and trust in God’s presence and promise.

Look at what Isaiah said.

You (God) will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you. (Isaiah 26:3)

God will keep our hearts and minds at peace when we remain dependent upon him in all things by trusting in him through all things. Peace is not surrendering to the circumstance. Peace is surrendering everything in every circumstance to God. Trusting that he will be with us always…even when we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Paul addressed the issue in his letter to the Philippian church.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4: 11-13)

We find peace and contentment only when we know that God will give us the strength we need to live faithfully in any and every situation. It comes when we listen to the words of Jesus when he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” When he says, “Do not be afraid.”

I’m certain you will read the Christmas story this year or have it read to you. I pray that you will not only hear the angels singing to the shepherds, but that you will join them in giving glory to God in the highest heaven for through his son he gives peace to those on whom his favor rests.

As he listened to those bells on Christmas day, Longfellow understood one thing when faced with all the hardships he encountered. “God is not dead, nor does he sleep.” Because he is ever with us, we can give Glory to God on high for the miraculous gift of his son Jesus. The one who brings peace to those on whom his favor rests. To all who believe in his name.

What’s in a Name?

Background Passages: Luke 1: 28-33; Matthew 1:20-23; John 1:1-14; and Philippians 2:6-8

Parents have some options when it comes to naming their children. They can run with family names, names of cultural significance, or simple alliterative names or nicknames that sound good together. They have choices.

I try to help when I can.

When my cousins Paul and Robbie Jo started their family, I suggested Wyatt, as in Earp, and Walker, as in “Texas Ranger.” It took a few years, but Wyatt eventually made the cut.

When my nephew and niece were expecting their second child, I had a dream that Amy gave birth in a school library. Naturally, I suggested Dewey, as in “decimal system.” It’s hard to believe they went with James.

Before my grandson Eli became Eli, Adam pushed hard from some rather unorthodox options. My first-born grandson could have been Theodore Roosevelt Lewis…or Gilgamesh Lewis…Archimedes, Hannibal or Atila Lewis. I know I would have loved him despite the historical or scientific references, but I’m glad he’s Eli.

In her Shakespearean soliloquy, Juliet, pondered “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Juliet’s love for Romeo was imperiled by the family feud between the Montagues and Capulets. Juliet lamented that she would have chosen a different name for either her or Romeo because any other name would smell as sweet and enable them to openly marry. She didn’t have that choice, however.

“What’s in a name?” asks Juliet.

As we transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas, it’s a great question.

With her heart and mind racing, Mary heard the news from an angel that she would have a baby. A most unexpected child, both in conception and timing. Pledged to be married to Joseph, a local builder, Mary and her family were making plans for a wedding day a few months down the road. Before the marriage was consummated, an angel appeared with a surprising word.

“Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever. His kingdom will never end.” (Luke 1:28-33)

It’s difficult to understand the depth of faith it took to accept all that the angel told her, but Mary gave herself in obedience to what she had heard. After finding a way to break the news to Joseph, the angel had another bewildered and troubled soul to soothe. Joseph, as honorable a man as one could hope to meet, considered the tough decision to dissolve their relationship quietly, giving Mary options to avoid the scorn that would surely come.

He agonized over the decision into the night until the angel came with words or reassurance.

“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet. “The virgin shall conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means, “God with us.”). (Mattthew 1:20-23)

What’s in the name Jesus?

There are many names or titles given to Jesus throughout scripture. Isaiah ran an impressive list of descriptors of the one who would come to save.

He will be called Wonderful Counselor. Mighty God. Everlasting Father. Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Jeremiah refers to the coming “King who will reign wisely” and shares that “This is the name by which he will be called, ‘The Lord is our Righteousness.’”

The descriptors tell us how Jesus would relate to us in our times of need…As counselor amid our troubles. As an all-powerful God amid our weakness. As an eternal father amid our loneliness. As the giver of true contentment and peace amid life’s turmoil. These descriptors speak to his work among us, but the titles don’t tell us much about who he is.

What’s in the name Jesus? Why did God have the angel so strongly make the point that the baby already had a name chosen by his father in heaven since the beginning of time itself? Why were they to call him Jesus.

There is nothing holy or sacred about the arrangement of letters or the phonetic sounds associated with the name of Jesus. Depending on the language one speaks, the name will not sound the same. When it was shared with Mary and Joseph, it was a fairly common name in Judea and Galilee.

Jesus is an English rendering of the Greek name “Iesous,” which is a translation of the ancient Hebrew “Yehoshua.” We see it written also in the English Old Testament as “Joshua.” Jesus. Iesous. Yehoshua. Joshua.

Whether written in English, Greek or Hebrew, the name of Jesus is formed from Hebraic roots suggesting “Jehovah is salvation.” There’s the first hint of who he is. He isn’t some form of salvation. He is salvation personified. While the message would not have been lost on Mary, it was clearly given to Joseph who was told to name him Jesus because “he will save his people from their sins.”

How could this child soon to be born to Mary and Joseph be salvation? How is it possible for this baby to be salvation and ultimately how is it possible for him to achieve what he was sent to do?

Mary and Joseph get this word as well.

While Mary was told to call the baby Jesus, other people will know him as and call him “the Son of the Most High.” Jesus. God’s son. Conceived in her by God’s spirit. Given to her and Joseph to love, care and teach. Make no mistake, though, he is God’s son. While the angel told Joseph to call the child Jesus, he said others will call him Immanuel, “God with us.”

This idea is the message of Christmas found in the gospel of John and reinforced by Paul in his letter to the Philippians.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:1-14)

“Who, being in very nature god, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even to death on the cross! (Philippians 2:6-8)

As we end today in the shadow of Thanksgiving and the dawn of the coming Christmas, I find great joy in the name of Jesus. I am thankful to God for sending his son into the world.

Though his life lived 2000 years ago looked markedly different than the life I live today, so much of it still rings the same. The same worries. The same temptations. The same heartaches. The same joys. The same relationships. I’m grateful that through his life he still teaches me how to live. Such remembrance makes this a Happy Thanksgiving.

I find such hope for this Christmas season in the birth of the one God sent as Jesus…the one he promised from the beginning to be our source of salvation. One whose very name reminds me that Jehovah saves. The Son of the Most High. Immanuel. God’s son. God with us. God’s son would be with us.

I find in the name of Jesus the promise of another very Merry Christmas.

A Hidden Treasure

Background Passages: I Chronicles 4:9-10; Jeremiah 33:3

The Antiques Road Show on PBS has become our default television program when there is absolutely nothing else to watch. If you’re not familiar with the show, hopeful people bring an item to an appraiser in hopes that what looks like a throw-away might actually be treasure.

I find most intriguing the items bought in a garage sale or sitting in the family attic for years. Some pieces are trash. Some pieces prove to be worth far more than expected.

On one recent program, a Corpus Christi family brought in a painting that hung behind a utility room door at his parents’ home for decades. Purchased in Mexico around 1930, the artist was a teenaged Diego Rivera, who would become one of the most influential Latin American painters of the 20th century.

Purchased for pesos, the painting was appraised at the Antique Road Show for $1 million.

It may be a lesson for everyone who bought one of my recent watercolors for a paltry amount. Hang it behind a door in your utility room, but don’t let your grandkids throw it away. It might be worth something 75 years after I’m gone. Another garage sale throw-away that turns out to be a hidden treasure.

I suppose that’s why I’m also drawn to the parenthetical tidbits I discover in scripture…those short, almost throw away passages hidden within the context of a broader story. I often find that the small tidbit becomes spiritual treasure.

I discovered another of those gems this week as I glanced through the early chapters of I Chronicles. Buried in the middle of a list of begats and begots that begin with Adam and end with David, you’ll find a parenthetical statement about a man named Jabez…a prayer of a righteous man hidden among the branches of an extended family tree between the sons of Helah and the sons of Kelub.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request. (I Chronicles 4:9-10)

While this scriptural insert tells us a little about Jabez, it tells us more about God. It tells us of the connection between the man and the God who blessed him. I find it instructive in my life.
Within these two verses, one can find three characteristics of the kind of life that a gracious God chooses to bless.

First, we see that God blesses those who walk the path of righteousness.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.

Little else is known of Jabez or his family, but clearly his brothers missed the mark set by those recording the genealogy. Their lives served as a footnote to the spiritual maturity of their brother. The honor attributed to Jabez seems spiritual in nature…not so much in the physical, financial, social or political realms.

Jabez was a godly man whose moral character, convictions and conduct stood out from those around him. Jabez was honorable, living his life in right relationship with God.

Honorable doesn’t mean perfect. However, if God had a spiritual destination in mind for Jabez…an idea of who he was now, growing into the man God wanted him to be…Jabez was headed in the right direction. He walked a path marked by righteousness.

David could have been talking about Jabez when he opened his Book of Psalms.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. (Psalm 1:1-3)

Jabez chose to ignore the advice of men who lived only for themselves. He chose to avoid the life of intentional sin. He refused to mock God or those around him. Rather, he found joy thinking about and living according to the law of God. As a result, his impact on others yielded fruit of the spirit, finding success in the work God called him to do. Jabez was honorable.

The passage shows us that God blesses those who remain faithful through the pain life brings.

Did you catch the meaning of his name? In the Hebrew culture of the day, a male child received his name when he was circumcised eight days after he was born. It must have been an extraordinarily painful childbirth for his loving mother to give him a name that means “pain,” “grief,” of “suffering.”

The name evidently proved a predictor of the hardships experienced in his life. That his brothers were less honorable might tell us that Jabez suffered hardship at the hands of his family. Maybe he had to assume debt his brothers incurred. Maybe their dishonesty brought shame on the family name. Perhaps Jabez endured health issues that impacted his ability to live as he desired. I’m guessing he struggled and suffered in much the same way we do.

Whatever the cause of his suffering throughout his life, we see in vs. 10 Jabez prays that God would protect him from harm so he would finally be “free of pain.” He longs for a time when pain and hardship are behind him.

God has a way of blessing a life scarred with pain. The Rev. H. B. Charles, Jr., wrote that “Candles must be burned in order to give light. Wheat must be ground to make bread,” he added. “We must experience some pain to experience true blessedness.”

Turning to the Psalmist again we find these words.

It is good for me I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. (Psalm 119:71)

Charles wrote, “Pain is not the blessing, but it sets us up for blessing.” Puts us in position to be blessed. Opens our hearts to the lessons God can teach us through our experiences.

The final trait in the life of Jabez shows that God chooses also to bless the life of the one who talks to God regularly about the concerns of their hearts.

Jabez was a godly man with more than his share of pain throughout his life. In the middle of all of that, he prayed for God’s blessing. He talked to the source of all blessing.

Can’t you relate to Jabez? Scripture does not praise him for the things the world values. Things like wisdom, strength or wealth. Jabez is not celebrated for being gifted or accomplished. We’re not even told what made him honorable or the depth of pain he experienced. Scripture singles him out simply as a man who prayed for that which God laid on his heart.

You see, Jabez learned what we all need to learn. God answers prayer. Prayer is our connection to God who wants nothing more than to bless his people.

The famed pastor Charles Spurgeon said, “Prayer is the slender nerve that moves the hand of omnipotence.” We receive our greatest blessings after we pray within his will. For his blessing in my life, not my blessing.

This obscure snippet about Jabez teaches us a little about the life God chooses to bless. It also tells us that God’s blessings come in the form of his provision, his presence and his protection.

Look at what Jabez asked of God.

Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

Jabez asked that God’s favor would fall on him (bless me) and his situation (enlarge my borders). God knows what we’re going through. God cares about our struggles, needs, dreams and fears. Just as Jabez prayed believing that God was ready, willing and able to answer his heart’s cry, we, too, need to pray for God’s provision with expectation of his blessing.

I initially read the passage and thought Jabez was praying for greater territory and wealth. One commentary suggested his honor would have precluded that. The writer suggested that the enlarged border would strengthen the influence of Jabez to share of his relationship to God.

That makes some sense to me. As God continues to bless us, we ought to be using all he provides to extend our influence with others as a way of testifying to the world of God’s love for them through Jesus Christ. To ask him to give us a platform to share the grace of a loving God.

Jabez asked also for the blessing of God’s presence.

Let your hand be with me…

It is a sentence that speaks to the powerful presence of God in his life. As such it complements the previous request for his expanded influence. Jabez wisely knew that God’s provision and his presence presents a problem. Incapable of managing God’s provision on our own, we need his presence and power.

It’s the Psalmist again who reinforces this truth.

Let your hand be ready to help me, for I have chosen your precepts. (Psalm 119:173)

Finally, God’s blessing is found in his protection.

…keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

One commentary suggest that a more apt translation of the Hebrew is to “Keep me from doing wrong so I might not cause suffering in my life and the life of others.” In other words, protect me, God, from me. My own bad choices. My own hardheadedness. My own ego. Keep me from hurting myself and those you love.

What a blessing of protection that would be?

Every little segment of Antiques Road Show ends with the appraiser sharing with the owner what his “find” is worth. More often than not, during the show, the owner is overwhelmed by the moment when the throw-away item becomes treasure.

We may attempt to live an honorable life. Not perfect, but over the course of life walking in the general direction God desires for us. We may remain faithful through the inevitable suffering. We may even engage in the kind of deep conversations with God concerning the desires of our heart. Those things open the doors to God’s blessings.

The real treasure I needed to discover this week is found in vs. 10. Look at it.

And God granted his request.

You see, the point is not so much that Jabez was honorable, that he experienced the same kind of pain we experience or even that he prayed. The real treasure is that God answered his prayer…just as he will answer ours.

I’m grateful for a man pulled from the pages of obscurity to remind me that God is a God who looks for every chance he can to bless me with is provision, presence and protection.

I find rest in that thought and the words of God to the prophet Jeremiah.

Call to me and I will answer you and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. (Jeremiah 33:3)

Way to go, Jabez!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Life After Birth

Background Passages: 2 Corinthians 5:16-20: John 3:1-21

Fifty years ago, while a student a Texas Tech University, I worked as a salesclerk at the Baptist Bookstore in Lubbock. It didn’t pay great, but the flexible hours allowed me to work around my class schedule.

For an avid reader, the downside of working in a place filled with books is that it is a place filled with books, all of which were offered to employees at a sizable discount. found myself spending a good portion of my paycheck each month building my personal library.

I still have many of those books on my library shelf. While straightening one of those shelves this week, I came across a book called Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxie Dunnam. I probably haven’t read anything from this book in 30 years. With my Dad’s memorial service fresh on my mind, I thumbed through the pages, drawn to a chapter entitled, “I Believe in Life After Birth.”

Because a funeral draws our attention to life after death, I found the title of the chapter intriguing enough to sit and read. Dunnam talked about the danger of sleepwalking through life after making our commitment to Christ. To cut a long chapter short, he wanted his reader to understand that Christians miss the joy of our promised “life abundant” when we don’t let our faith really challenge and change us.

One of the passages of scripture he referenced in 2 Corinthians was a passage I had considered as the basis of my writing this week. It may be coincidence, but I like to think it was a God thing. Here’s the verse.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ; the new creation has come; the old is gone and the new is here! (2 Corinthians 5:17)

In one sense, what Paul is saying is clear. Once we put our faith and trust in Jesus as savior and boss of our lives, we get to start again. We get to change the patterns of our old life that do not reflect the character and image of Christ to become a new creation…a new person intent upon living for him. The old way of life must pass, letting God lay out a new path before us.

A new creation has come…

Paul’s choice of words here is intentional. It’s like waking up in the morning to a new world. Look at what he wrote earlier in his letter to the church in Corinth.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Corinthians 4:6)

Can you see the connection Paul tries to make? The God of creation found in Genesis is the same God of our salvation. Just as God spoke all of creation into existence by the power of his word, God speaks in us a new creation through the powerful words of his gospel…through the saving work of Christ, his gospel of truth and the indwelling presence in our hearts of his spirit.

This new person that God creates in us is a light that shines in the darkness of a sinful world. A testimony to the saving and transforming power of Jesus, but only if we allow him to change us from the inside out.

It is here that Dunnam makes a connection I’ve never considered. He equates this “new creation” in 2 Corinthians with “new birth.” Not so much a do-over as a new start. A change. It’s what Jesus tried to explain to Nicodemus in John 3.

You probably know Nicodemus. He’s the Pharisee who came to Jesus late at night to discuss theology and got a lesson in faith. While we often paint the Pharisees dressed in black, hypocrites whose faces look like they bit into a sour lemon, there were some sincere folks among their ranks. Nicodemus stood as one of the good ones. Faithful. Devout. Open. Curious.

That’s why he could not discount the teachings of this Galilean rabbi who said some unsettling things. There was something in Jesus’ words that bore a ring of truth that Nicodemus could set aside.

You see Nicodemus bound his life to the law…every jot and tittle. Obedience to the law and doing good was his path to salvation. Yet, he must have found it stifling. Dull. Drab. Jesus taught differently, challenging everything Nicodemus held dear and promising life in its fullest.

It is somewhat surprising that a man who regarded faith as a measure of obedience to the law and had given his life completely to it would seek out Jesus at all. Though the Bible doesn’t tell us how many times Nicodemus had listened from the edge of the crowd as Jesus taught in the temple or synagogues, he surely heard. What he heard made the religion he practiced pale in comparison to the promises that Jesus taught.

This is what prompted the Pharisee to seek out the teacher. Careful, though, of his standing among the group, Nicodemus wanted a private audience with Jesus, covered by the veil of darkness.

When he arrived at Jesus’ camp, he engaged in a little polite small talk. Nicodemus, impressed with Jesus’ teaching and the miracles he performed, made a point to tell him so. It was his opening statement in what he presumed might become a lively debate. Jesus responded with a statement that led Nicodemus down a rabbit hole into a wonderland of confusion.

Hear the conversation that pushed Nicodemus over the edge.

“I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.”

“How can a man be born when he is old?” asked Nicodemus. “Surely, he cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb to be born.”

Jesus answered, “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless his is born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirt. You should not be surprised at my saying, “you must be born again.” The wind blows wherever it pleases. You can hear the sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So, it is with everyone born of the spirit.” (John 3:3-8)

As Jesus drew Nicodemus deeper into the truth, Nicodemus struggled to keep up. It was a lot to take in.

“…Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. 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 3:15-16)

Jesus told him that no matter how hard you try to obey Moses law, you will fail. The only hope of eternal life is to be born again…to be changed through the unmerited grace and love of God

The truth that Jesus taught Nicodemus is the same truth Paul taught the Corinthians. You must be born again. We must set aside the old us in favor of the new us that is found in Christ.

So, I ask the question again. A question each of us must answer for ourselves.

Is there life after birth?

Jesus says there is life abundant.

I am the gate, whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy. I have come that they may have life and have it to the full. (John 10:9-10)

Paul said there this life is alive.

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. (Col 2:13)

Think about the life Christ offers. Abundant. Alive.

It is the life we’ve been promised when we put our faith and trust in Christ. It will never happen, though unless we decide to be open to the possibilities. When we’re ready to surrender the control to which we so desperately cling. To say “Yes.”

Swiss psychologist Paul Tournier said that the “willingness to surrender is the pivotal point for becoming a whole person.” Being born again…becoming a new creation…is a plunge into the unknown. Faith let’s go. Faith surrenders.

Faith surrenders to a new perspective.

In the verse immediately preceding Paul’s thoughts about being a new creation, he calls upon all believers to look at the world differently.

So, from now on, we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way we do so no longer. (2 Corinthians 5:16)

Paul talks about this new creation we become, this life after new birth, so we can look at ourselves differently, though that’s certain a part of it. He also suggests that the new creation we become will enable us to see those around us with new eyes.

From now on, Paul says, we no longer see the world around us, the people around us, from a selfish perspective, but rather through the eyes of a loving father. To be a new creation is to see others…and even ourselves… as worthy of God’s love. That perspective matters. That perspective changes us. If we’re able to make that leap, how much would it change who we are and our perspective of the world around us? How much would it drive or temper our actions?

Faith surrenders to a new purpose.

As a new creation, Paul understood that our purpose changes as we change. Our new outlook propels us into a new purpose, one Paul calls the “ministry of reconciliation.” Look again at what he says in 2 Corinthians.

All of this is from God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God has reconciled the world to himself through Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed us to the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God was making his appeal through us.” (2 Corinthians 5:18-20)

Christ died so he might fix the broken relationship between us and God. To bring us into a reconciled relationship with our Creator. To be his representative in this alien world. As this new creation, he called us so we might help others be reconciled to God. Through the words we say to others. Through the things we do for others. Through the life we live for others.

Is there life after birth?

I answer with a resounding yes! It comes with a changed perspective and a challenging purpose. When we act accordingly, it is a life that is abundant and alive with possibilities, not just for you, but for all we encounter.

I’ve failed at the task far more often than I care to admit. I expect you have, too. Let’s together pledge to celebrate our life after birth, by committing to our calling in the ministry of reconciliation with a fresh perspective and purpose.

My Dad

Background Passages: Psalm 73:26; Galatians 5:22-23; John 1: 45-51; Psalm 23

I seldom use this space to get personal, I generally prefer to stay with the lessons God is teaching me each week. Today seems an exception.

My Dad passed away on October 5, just five days short of his 98th birthday. In the days since, we’ve been busy arranging the memorial service he planned years ago, pulling all the pieces together to reflect on a life lived so well for so long.

On one hand, it’s hard to grieve deeply when he lived independently every day of his life except for the last week before he died, even if his ability to do everything he wanted to do was somewhat restricted by the ordinary frailties caused by almost a century of living. He lived in the moments God gave him, knowing others had it much worse than he did.

On the other hand, the grief I feel runs deep, measured by the tightness in my chest caused by this new hole in a heart already riddled with the scarred holes of those loved ones lost over time.

The last time Robin and I visited with my 97-year-old Dad in Amarillo and the last two times we spoke on the phone he talked about being tired. While there may have been real physical manifestations of fatigue, I suspect he meant something much different. I think he was ready to go whenever God was ready for him.

The doctors could not give us a medical reason for Dad’s death. In language that Dad would probably enjoy, I think his tractor just ran out of butane.

David, the Psalmist, might have diagnosed Dad’s situation more eloquently.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

Dad’s flesh and his heart failed. I’m confident, however, that he knew God as his portion and strength for eternity.

I believe it is God’s desire for us to live our lives as Christ lived his. To be Christlike in the things we say and do. To me and to many he touched through his life, Dad was a mirror image of Jesus. Paul described what being a reflection of Jesus looks like in his letter to the Galatians.

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

In all I read in scripture, those words describe my Jesus. I look at that list and know my Dad exhibited that same fruit like he was working a spiritual farmer’s market. Those traits were on display in his life for all to see and share, offered without cost or expectation.

If you needed love, he gave it. Peace, he shared it. Patience, he extended it. Kindness, he showed it. Goodness, he breathed it. Faithfulness, he lived it. Gentleness, he exuded it. Self-control, he modeled a bushel of it.

I wrote an article about my Dad on Father’s Day a few years ago. Dad never liked being the center of attention and fussed at me lightheartedly for “writing his eulogy” before he was gone. It wasn’t intended as a eulogy, but under today’s circumstances, it seems to fit.

What follows below is an excerpt from that article. I’m cutting out the things that tell you what Dad did and leaving the part that tells you who he was. For that, I’ll simply remind you of the story Nathaniel, of one of Jesus’ disciples.

Nathaniel, born and raised in Cana in lower Galilee just a few miles from Nazareth, worked as a part-time fisherman and a full-time seeker of God’s truth. As Jesus began his ministry, Nathaniel followed the new rabbi for several weeks, listening to his teaching, probably sitting in the back row or on the edge of the crowd, getting his own measure of his teaching. He found Jesus’ conversations in the synagogue rich with meaning and purpose. The stories told to the multitudes penetrating…challenging the listener to think more deeply about God’s word. Nathaniel was intrigued by this carpenter from Nazareth.

On one particular day, Phillip, one of Jesus’ new disciples, grabbed Nathaniel’s arm with a sense of urgency and excitement. “Come and see,” he said. “We have found the one whom Moses wrote about and about whom the prophets also wrote. Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

Knowing the scripture as he did, Nathaniel had trouble believing that the promised one would come from Nazareth. Not yet knowing that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, he states as fact, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

It was not a putdown as we have been made to believe through the years. He questioned because this “fact” didn’t align with scripture. When Phillip and Nathaniel approached, Jesus stood to greet him. With a smile and comment that conveyed immense respect, Jesus said, “Here is a true Israelite in whom there is nothing false.”

Whenever I think of that story and the high praise Jesus rained upon Nathaniel, I think of my Dad…My Dad is a true child of God in whom there is nothing false. While certainly not infallible, he lives his life with the utmost integrity. What you see is what you get. And you get a whole lot of good.

As a child growing up and an adult trying to find my own way in the world, Dad’s lifestyle laid out a set of undeclared expectations I still try to meet. He loved my Mom completely and with full devotion. That was a gift to his three children that he modeled each day. They endured good-natured ribbing, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, and laughed freely. Dad was her biggest supporter and she was his. His ability to love his wife and family openly was, and is, one of my greatest blessings in life.

Farming was not the easiest life to live. Dad would have supported any career path we chose, but we all knew his preference was for us to find another line of work. As a result, he raised a lawyer, a doctor and me. Dad instilled in all of us a serious work ethic, an attitude I see reflected in my brother and sister in the work they do. He worked hard and did what was necessary to support his family.

While we may not have had a lot of material things, we were never poor…in reality nor in spirit.

Dad spent long hours in the field, but he also knew how to rest. He understood that there was a time and place for everything. He learned how to leave the worries of work on the tractor and come home focused on his family. He could also put things beyond his control in proper perspective. If the crop was hailed out, he spent little time moaning about his bad luck and more time thinking about his next steps. This attitude toward life impacted me greatly.

Dad continues to teach me a great deal about our relationship to others. I don’t think I ever heard a prejudiced word escape my father’s lips. Given the time period in which he grew up, that’s pretty amazing. He taught all of us that a person’s worth is measured by who he is and not by what he looks lie. Worth, to Dad, is not measured by political preferences, religious beliefs or immigrant status. A person should be measured by how he lives each day, how he treats others, the value he adds to the world. To treat anyone differently is just wrong.

I watched Dad as I grew up. If he found himself in a fractured relationship for any reason, he did his best to set it right, even if it meant having difficult conversations. Most of the time, those conversations led to a deeper friendship or, at least a mutual, respectful understanding of the other’s position.

These things and so many others make my Dad a great man in my eyes. However, if you know my Dad or ever met him, it would not take long to understand that his relationship with God is his greatest gift to his family and friends.

If you look back to Nathaniel’s encounter with Jesus, you find Nathaniel stunned that Jesus used such kind words to describe him. “How do you know me?” asked Nathaniel. Jesus replied, “I saw you under the fig tree.” Sounds rather cryptic to us, but Bible scholars say it was not an uncommon occurrence for students of scripture to congregate under the trees, unroll a scroll to study and discuss God’s word. I like to think that Jesus was so aware of his surrounding that Nathaniel’s desire to know God more intimately did not go unnoticed by the savior.

After a long day at work, it was not uncommon to see Dad sitting in his recliner, studying his Sunday School lesson…His discussions and debates with my Mom about scripture were often lively and always deep. Just reading the words of the Bible at face value is not enough for Dad. He wants to find its core meaning and its common sense application. The Bible for Dad is not spiritual pabulum or an outline of denominational theology, it is a blueprint for practical daily living. Its message drives the way he lives and loves.

I read back through that study and see it written in present tense. It’s difficult to shift into past tense. Because his memory lives on, he will always be.

I could regale you with stories about my Dad in hopes that you could know him as I did, but I can think of nothing better than this. Dad was Nathaniel in my eyes…a man in whom there was nothing false. He was and will always be that man. Though it is probably a pale shadow, I sure hope you can see a little of him in me.

My uncle, Les, Dad’s brother, is a retired pastor and chaplain. He has a gift for words. In his recent blog about his grief at Dad’s death, he paraphrased Psalm 23. Maybe the language isn’t as poetic as David’s, but it’s written in the practical language of West Texas. I think Dad would have liked it. May it bring you the same comfort it brings me.

The Lord is like my shepherd; I really don’t need a thing. It’s like I’m walking in these green pastures among rippling streams. Maybe I should be afraid, but I’m not; God and I seem the same, and everything’s great. I am comfortable here. They’re setting a huge table and there’s a ceremony to welcome me: Me! Warts and all. I think I’m going to be just fine here. I feel only goodness and love in my soul. I live in the Lord’s house, and besides, I have an eternal contract. (Psalm 23)

That about sums it up. As Les added, “Resurrection boasts nothing good ever dies.”

I will rejoice for a life well lived.

I Can Do All This

Background Passages: Philippians 4:4-13

Richard Swenson, author of Contentment: The Secret to Lasting Calm, tells a story about his seven-year-old granddaughter who accidentally stepped in a pile of dog droppings with both tennis shoes. Together, she and her dad found a suitable stick, sat down on the curb and began scraping the mess from the treads of her shoes.

After a few minutes the little girl stopped. She looked at her Dad and then at the brown stuff now piled in the gutter. “You know, Dad,” she said. “This would be a very good meal for a dung beetle.”

Swenson pointed out that the contentment range of little children is a mile wide from end to end. He uses the term “joy beacons” to describe a child’s ability to always see the silver lining. He said, “The laughter from just one child is enough to lift a crowd of fifty. Where do they get this capacity…to make happy connections between a shoe full and the disgusting culinary habits of ugly beetles?”

Psychologists tell us that four-year-olds laugh 26 times a day more than adults. That fact alone makes it clear why Jesus would occasionally spent time with children in his lap and arms. I think the human side of him needed, at times, to be reminded that God gave our hearts an amazing capacity for delight and contentment, even in the most difficult of times. Children, God’s ambassadors to the cynic, find equal contentment, according to Swenson, “in a puddle or a pigeon, a worm or a waffle.”

It’s this idea of contentment that has been on my heart lately. When did we lose that sense of delight and contentment? More importantly, why do we lose it?

Richard Carlson, author of Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, suggested that our discontent comes from external circumstances. “We tend to believe that if we were somewhere else—on vacation, with another partner, in a different career, a different home, a different circumstance, or if we could somehow go back to the good ol’ days—somehow we would be happier and more content.” Simply put, Carlson said, “We wouldn’t.”

Psychologists will gladly tell us how to find contentment. Some of their thoughts are helpful. Some are not. I think to find the truth about contentment requires a trip to a first century house prison in the middle of Rome.

As first century prisons go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Paul had certainly experienced worse. Acts 28 tells us the apostle found himself under house arrest, chained at times to a bored Roman guard. Because the judicial system of the time did not provide three square meals a day, the prisoner was forced to provide his own housing and support. Limited in his ability to ply his trade as a tentmaker, he had little to sustain his daily life. Most of what he had on which to survive came from money and supplies shared by his friends and followers.

The worst part of his confinement for Paul must have been the restrictions on his ability to share his faith. To do the work God had called him to do. He could have visitors and speak freely about his savior within the walls. He could not spend time in the synagogue or the local market talking about his favorite subject…Jesus. Though his reach was limited, God’s was not. Paul continued to open the hearts of those who heard his message.

Given all he had experienced that brought him to this place and all he experienced while locked behind four walls, one might think Paul struggled to find contentment. Apparently not.

While imprisoned, Paul wrote several letters to the churches he helped establish. One of those churches was in Philippi, a Roman city in Macedonia. It was a letter thanking them for their contribution of provisions and money to support him in his time under house arrest.

He wrote a couple of things in this letter that I have read all my life, but only connected when I read them again this week. (That’s the funny thing about scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal truth you need to hear when you need to hear it.)

Read his words as one under house arrest.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again. Rejoice!. Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-8)

That sounds more like a man sitting on the porch of his mountain cabin, sipping a nice diet coke, with his feet up on the rail, watching the squirrels jump around in the trees. It doesn’t sound like a man chained to a surly and sweating Roman guard.

Rejoice. Don’t be anxious about anything. In every situation and in all you need, pray with thankfulness. Find peace beyond the understanding of men…the kind of peace that sets at ease your troubled heart and worried mind.

You see, despite all he had been through that brought him to Rome…the unjust accusations of Jewish leadership back in Judea and the cowardice of the Roman authorities who knew his innocence…Paul still found himself waiting for a trial that could either set him free or hand him over to be killed. Yet, he says, rejoice. Don’t worry. Be at peace. Be content.

Easy to say, difficult to do, right? It seems counterintuitive when faced with an impending divorce. Life-altering injury or illness. Decisions over aging parents. Rebellious children. Financial loss. Angry neighbors. Death of a spouse. Social unrest.

How does one keep from shrinking into dark depression when encountering any single one of these conditions, much less when several seem to hit at once.

Paul gives us a clue, I think.

“Finally, dear brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

Perhaps the first step in finding contentment amid the garbage of life is to scrap it into the gutter and find the silver lining by concentrating on the noble, the right, the pure and admirable. To get our hearts and minds pointed at the things of God rather than the things that seem to be slapping us around. To find his presence and his peace in the blessings he lavishly provides to those who love him.

Paul found the blessing in the gifts sent by the Philippians. He felt it as he welcomed Epaphroditus as the bearer of the gifts and unwrapped the supplies that they sent to help sustain him. Like a care package of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies sent to a hungry soldier mired in an inhospitable foxhole. It was just what he needed to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone.

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is like to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (Philippians 4:10-12)

Paul truly understood the ups and downs of life. His life as a Pharisee elevated his social standing and financial condition. He lived a life of relative luxury provided by his position as an up-and-coming religious leader. It all changed on the road to Damascus when he encountered the living Christ in a blinding blaze of light.

For the sake of Christ, Paul walked away from a life most others would envy to give himself to the work God called him to do. It was never easy. Paul once wrote the Christians in Corinth about all he had endured since committing his life to Christ.

If you read 2 Corinthians 11:22-29, you’ll find that Paul spent multiple times in prison and not always the house arrest kind. Five times he was given 39 lashes with a whip. He was beaten with sticks, pelted with stones, shipwrecked three times, and constantly on the move. He crossed raging rivers, faced bandits along the roads and the murderous threats from Jew and Gentile alike.

Paul faced danger in the city and in the country. On sea and on land. He had gone without sleep and known days of hunger and thirst. He was cold and naked. And amid the physical distress, he felt the daily pressure of his concern for the people in the churches he had founded…an overwhelming burden.

When you understand all Paul endured, it makes his words to the Philippians even more forceful. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstance.”

Paul didn’t find contentment by trying to fix his circumstances, he found it by fixing his eyes on Jesus. By concentrating on living the life God had called him to do. By focusing on the noble, the right, the pure, the lovely and the admirable. In other words, by living a Christ-like life in all he did and all he said.

That’s difficult to do under the pressures and burdens we bear. Paul had a “secret” though. A secret he shared openly with the Philippians and with those of us for whom life has bound us to house arrest, limiting our ability to do the things we want to do.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

I’ve read this verse a thousand times, I bet. As I learned in the school business, though, first learning is hard to overcome. When I first learned this passage, it was in the language of King James.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The message I heard from well-intentioned youth ministers and pastors was that God would empower me through his strength to do everything and anything I wanted to do. That’s the lesson that stuck for that verse. While there is a measure of truth in that thought, it has not been my experience. If that were so, I would have walked on the moon with Neil Armstrong like that childhood dream promised.

No. I don’t think that’s what Paul intended. When Paul says he can concentrate on the noble, the right and the pure; he can find contentment when he has plenty and when he has nothing; he can overcome every adverse circumstance of life. “I can do all of this,” Paul says, “through him who gives me strength.”

There is a difference in “I can do all things…” and “I can do all this…,” especially within the context of Paul’s life and most decidedly in the context of ours. The first seems more of a promise that our wildest dreams will be ours. The latter suggests that my ability to live well through the good and bad times of life depends on my ability to tap in and trust in the strength Christ provides.

We are incapable of dealing with everything that sticks to the bottom or our shoes within our restricted power and limited strength. However, we can fix our eyes on Jesus. Think like Jesus thought. Live like Jesus lived, facing every circumstance with the same grace with which Jesus faced the sin of the world.

Through the strength Christ provides through his word and his spirit, we will find that silver lining. We’ll find we can be content in all of this tough stuff with which we are dealing.

I truly don’t know how you define contentment. I only hope you find it in Christ. All other definitions are severely lacking.

Maybe the best starting point is to be thankful for the eternal presence of Jesus in your life. Dr. Toyin Omofoye is an author and clinical pharmacist. She said, “Contentment is realized when gratitude becomes a lifestyle.”

So, when you’re facing what you can’t fix on your own, be grateful that you can do all this…all that is required to make it through…because of the strength of Christ in you.

Amen?

Amen!

Don’t Look Back

Background Passages: Luke 9:57-62 and Philippians 3:12-14

The big day had finally come. To a young boy growing up in the 1960s on a cotton farm, each day brought a series of chores to be done. Most were routine and boring. Those I deemed “exciting,” like jumping on the tractor and plowing the field, were the privileges of age and responsibility.

When deemed old enough and responsible enough, my Dad entrusted me with an old, yellow Case 400 tractor and a plow called the “lister.” We used the lister to prepare the fields for planting. By tilling the soil in this way, we cleared the field of weeds and old stalks and built the furrows and ridges, or “beds,” necessary for planting.

Hoeing the field, slopping the hogs, moving the irrigation pipe were mind-numbing work. Driving the tractor stood as a rite of passage…at least it was to this 12-year-old boy. Listing was one of the first “real jobs” my Dad assigned me as I was growing up. “Real” being defined as anything involving a tractor and plow. I remember burying my excitement in a cover of feigned indifference, but inside, I was pumped.

As I drove the tractor to my assigned field, Dad followed in his dusty Dodge pick-up. When we arrived, he jumped from the truck and showed me where he wanted me to begin. He explained the hydraulics and showed me how to drop the disk to mark the next row. Dad set the disk and drove the first few rows, straight as an arrow, with me riding along watching…a “do as I do” moment.

Listing was one of the first steps in the annual farming process. The planter followed the rows created by the lister. The cultivator followed the planter as the cotton grew to remove weeds and mix and incorporate the soil to ensure the growing crop had enough water and nutrients to grow well. So, if the rows created by the lister were not straight, it made the field difficult to work.

I should note that the rows my Dad plowed as my template looked as if they were drawn by a ruler. Straight as an arrow stretching a quarter mile across our West Texas farm. He had a knack for it.

The task appeared simple to me. Align the front wheel of the tractor with the line drawn by the disk and my rows would be as straight as Dad’s. As he climbed off the tractor and bounded toward his truck before leaving me alone to my work, he told me to concentrate on the line ahead of me and “don’t look back.”

Looking behind you as you plowed was the surest way of getting off the desired line. I scoffed inwardly at Dad’s advice. How hard could it be to drive in a straight line?

It turns out that laying that perfect row requires concentration a 12-year-old boy finds difficult to maintain. I remember spending a great deal of time looking behind me, checking on my progress. Every wiggle I saw heightened my anxiety about the quality of work, compelling me to look time and time again where I had travelled.

The more I worried with it, the worse it looked. My quarter mile rows meandered through that red soil like a copperhead snake. Dad laughed when he saw it. I eventually learned the lesson he taught though I was never quite as good as he was.

God reminded me of that moment in my childhood as I read a passage in the Gospel of Luke. It seems Dad’s lesson about farming was as old as the Bible and applies just as neatly to life.

The crowd that followed Jesus generally included his closest disciples and others whose hearts were captured by Jesus’ message and ministry. They professed a faith in him and a desire to follow wherever he led them. As the 12 disciples discovered, the requirements of discipleship must be wholeheartedly embraced if we are to live to the fullest the life he wills for us.

One day as Jesus journeyed down the road followed by an interested crowd. A man came to Jesus pledging to follow him. Jesus needed him to think seriously about the commitment he was making. Jesus had “no home, no place to lay his head.”

Following him meant a life of sacrifice and uncertainty. Jesus wanted more from the man than an ill-considered impulse decision that circumstance made hard to sustain. Count the cost, Jesus suggested, before you make a snap decision.

Jesus called out to a second man in whom he saw great promise. “Follow me.” Though willing, the man felt torn by the needs of his family and the responsibilities of discipleship. Jesus told him to get his priorities straight. God’s call required complete devotion to God.

The third man provoked a harsher response from Jesus. The man promised to follow Jesus but asked for time to say goodbye to those he loved, his heart divided between his desire to do as God asked and his love for his family and friends. He said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

The Greek words translated for “looks back” paint a picture of one constantly and continuously looking back at what he left behind. A picture of someone reluctant to let go of the things of the world rather than to fully commit life to God. The more we look back, the more likely we are to walk a wavering line of faith life that constantly strays from the path God intends for us.

The lesson for those of us who follow Christ emerges clearly in the conversation Jesus had with the three would-be followers. We must give ourselves completely to the call of Christ by counting and embracing the cost of discipleship and making God’s work the most important thing in our life.

Following Christ has never been easy, but doing so in a fractured world that demeans and diminishes faith grows even more difficult. It is made harder when important things of life pull and tug at us from every direction. We must follow Christ despite the hardships, heavy hearts and home ties that block us from giving ourselves completely to him.

God calls us to put our hands on the plow and get on with the work of faith, creating a straight row that makes it easier for him to accomplish his future work. Human nature and the subtle work of a tempter compel us to look back upon the mistakes we’ve made, those sins in our lives that seek to convince us that God cannot possibly use such a flawed vessel.

Certainly, it may be good to glance behind us on occasion, to revisit our mistakes, as a reminder of how easy it is to fail God. Yet, to dwell in the misery of our past failures inhibits our ability to be useful in service and ministry, makes us feel unworthy of the purpose to which we have been called.

Just as troubling are those times when we think wistfully of the “good ol’ days” when life and faith were easier. Today is the time we have been given. Looking back and wishing the world were different prohibits us from seeing in front of us the God-directed opportunities that allow us to demonstrate his love for a world that can no longer plow a straight row.

Don’t look back, Christ says. Give yourself wholly to your call and count the cost. Christ cannot accept our conditional or half-hearted service. Nor can we spend more time looking back at our past, reveling in a simpler time or lamenting our failures. He asks us instead to look forward; to press on. To open ourselves to the possibilities of service and ministry.

Paul captured the same message in his letter to the Philippian church as he declared that he could not fully grasp all that God called him to be. “Brothers, I do not consider myself to have embraced it yet. But this one thing I do: Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on…”

Experience is a great teacher. I eventually learned to rely upon that handy, pivoting disk on the plow that I raised and lowered as I traversed the field. If I kept my eyes fixed on the line as it ran into the distance, put my tractor wheel in its furrow and followed it to the end, my rows rarely wavered.

For those committed to Christ, Jesus drew the line in the sand with his life as the perfect example to follow. Most of us recognize that our line drifts away from the line Jesus walked. Our mistakes compound when we spend too much time looking behind us.

Let’s keep our eyes focused constantly on him and the path of righteousness he walked as an example to all of us.

I promise it will make life that much easier to plow.

Author’s note: This is a reprint of a study published January 28, 2017.