Category: Bible Studies

New Morning, New Mercies

Background Passage: Lamentations 3:1-25

You’ve seen them in magazines at the grocery store checkout line. Heard them listed in television newscasts. It’s that time when we look back upon the preceding 12 months and remember the major news events of the year. Depending on the organization creating the list, you’ll find celebrity marriages and deaths, natural disasters and human tragedies highlighting the lists.

The Associated Press ranked the following among its top 10 world news events this year:

• U.S. Election
• Brexit
• Black Lives Matter
• Worldwide Terror Events
• Attacks on Police
• Democratic Party Email Leaks
• Syrian Civil War
• Supreme Court Vacancy
• Hillary Clinton’s Emails

The thread of turmoil runs within all of these news stories. It’s difficult to determine whether the upheaval these events caused will eventually bring about something good. So, we look with promise of a new year to settle things down again, hoping that any negative consequences of these events do not touch us or our families.

But what about your personal year in review? If you had to list the top news events in your life for 2016, what would they be? Here’s my list (in chronological order).

• Our 40th wedding anniversary
• Retirement from full-time work
• An uncle’s stroke
• A cruise with friends in the Baltic
• Signing with a new book publisher
• Teaching part-time at the university
• Father diagnosed with cancer
• Death of several friends
• Birth of Amelia, our 2nd granddaughter
• Mother-in-law’s stroke

When I thought about this list, the first events I recalled were the bad news events…the diagnoses and the deaths. That’s human nature I suppose. It’s comforting to know that our days are filled with moments of joy amid the personal turmoil created by some life events. Yet, in those times when trouble falls like rain from a thunderstorm, life feels oppressive and overwhelming.

The writer of Lamentations in the Old Testament probably felt much the same way. The crushing nature of life events left him mourning for the nation of Israel and crying out on behalf of the people who faced the consequences of their own rebellion against God. He counted himself among them. Chapter 3 reads like a “Top 10” list of the devastating physical and emotional conditions in which the writer found himself…

• “…I am a man of affliction…”
• “…driven me away…”
• “…besieged and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship…”
• “…dwell in darkness…”
• “…weighed me down in chains…”
• “…made me a target…”
• “…pierced my heart…”
• “…became the laughingstock…”
• “…deprived of peace…”
• “…mocked me in song…”

Yet, the writer of Lamentations refused to abide in the circumstances. Refused to let life events control his spiritual condition. The crux of his faith centers on a confession he makes in Lamentations 3:21-23.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope. Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to him, ‘The Lord is my portion. Therefore, I will wait for him.”

As we must deal at times with events of life that suck the breath from our lungs and threatened to stop our hearts from beating, we must understand what this writer knows. Though the issues bubble never far from our thoughts, we still have hope. How is this possible?

God loves us. Pure and simply. His compassion and mercy flows always in abundance and prevents us from being eaten up or overwhelmed by that which we face. He proved it so in the past and continues to this day. His love never fails. Never.

Here’s the part that I really like. His mercies, his compassions, come new every morning. Fresh. Sustaining. We don’t have to rely on grace remembered that came once and never comes again. The dawn of each new day brings with it God’s abiding and unfailing love. Each day. Every day. God’s faithfulness is sufficient for our needs. So, as the writer declares, “I will wait for him” to carry me through the day…I will rest my hope in him.

Our ability to wait for him is built upon our history with God. Our knowledge of God and who he is strengthens our faith in difficult and uncertain times. For when we know what kind of God it is we trust…one whose mercies arise new each morning…we can remove the baffling and troubling aspects of life from our shoulders and place them instead in his hands.

This is my challenge to you. Reflect upon your year and remember that God’s love never fails. His compassions arise new every morning. Despite the difficulties you’ve experienced and those that are sure to come in 2017, let God be your portion. Wait for him.

May you enjoy a blessed new year.

Slowing Things Down

Background Passage: Psalm 46:10

There never seems to be enough hours in the day to do all that needs to be done. It is a common lament, particularly in our culture and society. Sadly, we are often our own worst enemy when it comes to making the most of our time each day. We pile one responsibility onto another until we feel as though we are in a frenetic footrace to the sundown.

Nothing we do gets done without the pressure of the next thing that must be done. We seldom have time to slow down to assess what we are doing and why we are doing it. The pervasive god of technology drives us at a frantic pace beyond our escape or control, fueled by our addiction to wave upon wave of contradictory information. The flood of information makes it difficult to discern fact from opinion.

Even when we want to get away, to take back some of the time we have surrendered, we cannot fully disconnect from the world we left behind. Cellphones, internet, global connectivity, make it far too easy for the world to inject itself again into our seclusion.

Pressed from all sides and pounded daily by those trying to tell us how to feel, we lose the opportunity to think clearly and critically about the direction of our lives. The complexity of our activities, relationships and commitments result in knee-jerk reactions to difficult circumstances. Writer Arthur Rosenfeld said we are living a life “high in stress and light on substance,” devoid of spiritual meaning.

The Psalmist faced his own battles with time and circumstance. When the obstacle he faced loomed on the horizon, he reminded himself that there is value in slowing down enough to listen to the voice of God, to hear his words of comfort and feel his sense of peace.

“Be still and know that I am God. “

The words came not as a suggestion, but an imperative. If you want the peace God offers, be still. Amid the chaos and confusion, be still. Amid the tumult and turmoil, be still.

Stop fighting. Let go. Surrender to the possibilities of what God has in store for us. The pace of life that tends to overwhelm us is often self-inflicted noise that overpowers God’s still, small voice of guidance and direction. We fight to control our lives, for some ability to manipulate the world swirling around us. Like being mired in quicksand, our struggle only makes it worse. Be still. Silence the chatter in our souls. Clear our hearts of every distraction. Sit still for once and listen. Really listen.

Know that He is God. The omniscient. The omnipotent. The omnipresent. God knows about everything. Extends his power over everything. Dwells with us in everything. God is…Holy. Sovereign. Faithful. Lord. He knows where we’ve been, where we’re going and what we are trying to do. He knows when we are lost. He understands our fear. He lives with us in the middle of the struggle and will not abandon us along the way.

The psalmist reminds us to surrender our will to God’s will because we can trust who he is and what he is capable of doing in our lives. Knowing he is God allows us to make sense of the clutter and slow the frenzied pace of life that threatens to engulf us.

There never seems to be enough time to do all that needs to be done. I spoke those words myself this week. This I know. If we allow it to do so, modern life will move faster than the speed of thoughtfulness, sweeping us downstream with it. The words of the Father fell upon listening ears today.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Now, I just have to do it.

In Search of Contentment

Background Passage: Philippians 4:4-13

We live in a world of simmering discontent fueled by politicians and talk show hosts and fanned by the extremist opinions expressed in an all-too pervasive social media. Many among us look at our life circumstances… longing for a past veiled in a mist of greatness that never was as great as we remember. Angry about a present that seems stuck in a downward spiral. Jaded about a future we anticipate with overwhelming pessimism.

We pursue what we think will bring happiness only to discover emptiness. We buy more things…incur more debt…only to suffering the anxiety of paying for it all. We move from place to place…seeking a better house, better neighborhood, better schools…rarely staying in one place long enough to develop cherished friendships. When we let circumstances define us, when life unfolds as a series of unfulfilled dreams based on unrealistic expectations, contentment remains elusive.

Such a world view is distinctly anti-Christian. That’s not to say there aren’t some real problems we must address. It is saying, however, that as Christians, our world view needs to reflect a different attitude.
Contentment, as the world defines it, finds its root in a Greek word meaning “self-sufficient” or “independence.” It is derived from an ancient Stoic philosophy that calls one to detach oneself from ones emotions, to become indifferent to the ups and downs of life.

Contentment is not complacency. We should work to better ourselves and our circumstances as God grants us the opportunity to do so. God praises hard work that is not driven by greed and selfishness. We can prepare ourselves through education and training and work to better our circumstances as long as we are submissive to God’s will. Contentment is not settling for less. It is submitting your circumstances to God and trusting in his sufficiency.

*

The preacher languished in a foreign prison on trumped up charges. Punished and persecuted for sharing his faith that ran counter to the government-sanctioned philosophy and religion. Far from home. Isolated from most of his friends. Facing an almost certain death sentence.

The missionary could have shaken his fist at God, angry at the situation in which he found himself, wallowing in discontent and feeling abandoned by God and friends. Yet, the preacher continued to share the gospel of Christ to the prison guards, fellow prisoners and those he could reach by letter. In the darkness of his imprisonment, he received an unexpected gift from church friends trying to relieve the burden of his circumstances.

While he certainly appreciated the support during a difficult time, the Apostle Paul used the gift as an opportunity to teach the church at Philippi about his victory over discontent.

*

Paul took the definition of contentment in a different direction. For the apostle, contentment was the peace one finds when living within the will and strength of God. He said, “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.”

Reading the letter today you can imagine the people holding their breath waiting for Paul to reveal the answer. The secret of contentment, Paul said, is knowing…“that I can do all things through him that gives me strength.”

That seems to me to be the key. Our ability to do anything, to overcome everything life throws our way, is predicated on our understanding that God is sufficient in all things; that within his strength, all things are possible. Contentment is that inner sense of peace that stems from our personal relationship with the Father and dependent upon our willingness to embrace his lordship. To yield control of our lives to him.

Easy words to write, but difficult to do…unless we live a focused and purposeful life. Look at Philippians 4:8-9.

“Finally, brothers, 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.”

It’s a simple formula and I’m content with that.

Do Not Lose Heart

Background Passage: Hebrews 12:1-3

Has there ever been a time in history when the world watched as closely the actions and reactions of Christians to world events? Certainly, the new, polarized media and the prevalence of social media contribute to the intense scrutiny of the verbal and living testimony shared with those we encounter. The intolerance directed at Christians who stand for their faith is counterbalanced at times with our own intolerant and unloving attacks on those who oppose our views.

The mistakes we make in our relationship with the world casts a dark shadow over those who attempt to live right and well. Like Sisyphus continually pushing the boulder up the hill only to lose his grip and let it roll back to the valley, one trying to build a bridge to those in need of Christ’s love, can easily grow so tired of the effort that giving up feels like a sensible option. In a world that fails to listen to the call of God, it is easy to grow discouraged.

The writer of Hebrews speaks a word for the weary that theologian William Barclay called “one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament.” The unknown author of Hebrews calls upon us to remember the heroes of our faith, to recall the difficult circumstances they encountered and the faith that sustained them. So the first clear message of this passage is that we are surrounded by those men and women who stood firm in faith despite setbacks and hardship. This “cloud of witnesses” ought to inspire us with their life testimony to persevere in our own effort to live as Christ commands.

With the memory of those bastions of faith behind us, we are urged to toss away every hindrance to running the race along the “course that is marked out before us.” The will of God for our lives. The path he desires us to walk. We are neither an unconcerned bystander, nor spectator, nor tourist along for the ride. We are called to run the race that God set out for us to run…regardless of where it takes us, how long or rugged the path. God has set the goal before us. Our task is to rid ourselves of the beastly burdens and bad attitudes that make the race feel impossible. To run with dogged dedication the gauntlet of a life lived for Christ.

The task is easier said than done when it feels as though the whole world is rooting against us. We feel the sting of ridicule from an unbelieving world each time we fail to live up to God’s standards, making it more difficult to accept his forgiveness and start anew. We feel the pressure of other believers who wrap themselves so tightly in the cloak of politics that faith becomes a social movement rather than a matter of the heart.

How then does the writer of Hebrews suggest we stay steadfast on the course God laid out before us? Simply this: “Fix your eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” In a moment of personal insanity many years ago, I once ran a half-marathon. I am not physically built to run a half-marathon. With no hope of winning, all I wanted to do is finish sometime before supper. In the last quarter of the race, my breath grew labored. My legs tired. My head telling me to stop the madness. Instead, I ran five miles staring at a runner about 100 yards in front of me. I told myself “If I lose sight of him, I’ll quit.“ Keeping my eyes focused on that man and with the help and encouragement of a friend over the last mile, I managed to finish what I started. We invariably quit the course laid out for us when we lose sight of Jesus. This we cannot do.

Hebrews tells us to think of all that Christ endured…the difficult journey, the constant opposition, the unhearing hearts, the agony of the cross…for despite the suffering, he endured it all because he could anticipate the joy that his gift of salvation would bring to the world. What God started in our lives, intending it all for good, must not be cast aside when the going gets tough. Think instead of the joy we will know when the task is done.

It is a strange world in which we find ourselves today, filled with frustration and heart break. You may feel, as I do at times, that you are not making a difference…that for every one step forward, the world pushes you two steps back. Know that it is not so. Acts of faith never return unrewarded.

At the end of the day, we must fix our eyes on Jesus and consider his enduring faith so that we “will not grow weary and lose heart.” Barclay called it one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament. I call it a message I needed to hear.

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

Background Passages: Matthew 10:29-31; Matthew 6:26-27, 34; Philippians 4:6-7

In an age of contemporary worship music, there must remain a place in worship for the old hymns of faith. The messages of these songs, which stand the test of time and testimony, resonate within the depths of life’s most trying circumstances, grounded us again in the rich history of faith.

In the midst of trying times in our country and difficult days in the life of my family, I found myself thinking this week of one of those old standards, His Eye Is On The Sparrow.

The words to the song, penned in 1905 by Civilla Martin, became one of the most influential gospel hymns of the 20th century. The words were based on the inescapable optimism and faith of a woman known only as Mrs. Doolittle of Elmira, NY. The elderly woman, bedridden for more than 20 years, lived with her permanently disabled husband. Her husband continued to work each day despite having to propel himself to work each day in a wheelchair. During the initial encounter, an abiding friendship developed between the two families.

As they visited one day, Martin asked Mrs. Doolittle the secret of their happiness and hopefulness. As she beamed from her bed, Mrs. Doolittle responded, “His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.” The enduring and endearing faith inspired Martin to write the cherished hymn.

The song still touches God’s people, helping us find solace despite sorrow. Allow us to be lifted by steady conviction that God’s eye never wanders from us or our plight. The marrow of the song comes from a moment of reassurance found in Matthew as Jesus offered comfort to his disciples as he sent them in pairs into the countryside to share the gospel of Christ.

To ease their anxious hearts, he said, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet, not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the hairs on your head are numbered. So, don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Matt. 10:29-31)

Another time, Jesus encouraged his disciples to set aside their fears about the future. “Look to the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? …Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. ..” (Matt. 6:26-27, 34)

These verses serve to remind me that worry is an enemy of faith; that we must lay the concerns of this world and this time at his feet. The words of reassurance never promise an end to the bad times, but they do promise that we will not walk alone. For despite the turmoil in the world and in our lives, we God’s eye is upon us always.

That promise alone moves us from peril to peace. As Paul wrote to the church in Philippi, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:6-7)

So the words of the old hymn linger in my thoughts…

Why should I feel discouraged?
Why should the shadows come?
Why should my heart be lonely,
and long for heaven and home?

When Jesus is my portion,
my constant friend is he.
His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

I sing because I’m happy.
I sing because I’m free.
His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

His eye is on the sparrow,
and I know he watches me.

Amen, and again, amen.

The Pit and the Promise

Background Passages: Genesis 37:12-28; 50:20; Isaiah 43:2

How does one rebound from betrayal?

How does one refocus after a dreaded diagnosis?

How does one recover from the loss of a loved one?

In one form or another, I heard those questions asked by three different people…friends and former colleagues…each in their own way trying to put one foot in front of the other in the aftermath of broken hearts, horrible news and sudden death.

Words fall short sometimes. Sympathy and comfort offer little more than a brief respite. At the end of the day, I go on with my life, but my friends face the difficult task of reconciling each today with a new reality. As one of them told me, “It’s the pits.”

I think of them often and watch their faith sustain them during difficult days. I am reminded of another young man in the Bible who experienced “the pits” both literally and figuratively.

A teenage boy.
Distressed.
Desperate.
Filled with
Dread.

Struggled to suppress the panic
settling around him as thick as the desert dust.
Breath ragged and labored.
Strangled by terror and exhaustion.

He sat against the rough-hewn wall,
knees tucked to his chin,
Scratched.
Scraped.
Bleeding from failed efforts to
climb the rocky walls of the cistern
in which his brothers left him to die.

Joseph.
Yelled again and again.
Begged for rescue.
Throat dry.
Caked with dust.
His hoarse and anguished voice
falling on deaf ears and
hardened hearts.

Betrayed by brothers.
Abandoned by those he loved.
Left to die then
sold to slavery in a distant land.

Joseph found his life
tortured and twisted
beyond reason.
His day gone horribly wrong in an
unexpected, unplanned
turn of events.

It’s a familiar story. One most of us heard as children. The story resonates because somehow we can all relate to waking up one morning with expectations of another wonderful day only to have our world shatter into a million pieces in the blink of an eye.

The innocent part of me wants my people of faith, like Joseph, to stand strong in the face of adversity. To sit patiently in the pit, knowing without doubt that God would miraculously send a caravan of traders to whisk him to Egypt where he knew with certainty he would find favor with Pharaoh and settle into a royal life of luxury.

Despite the dreams of personal power and prestige that David often lorded over his brothers, I suspect he was scared to death while he languished in the pit, overwhelmed by all that happened. His brothers later acknowledged his distress; that Joseph “pleaded with us for his life.” (Gen. 42:21) When, he was dragged from the well and sold to the traders, how could he not dread the turn that life had taken.

Yet, Joseph did what each of us must do when scarred by circumstance and scared by what the future holds. He put one foot in front of the other and lived another day, clinging to a promise of God’s presence, hanging on to faith and allowing God to work in His way and His time. Through his life in Egypt, Joseph’s fortunes rose and fell, landing from time to time again in the pit. Scripture tells us more than once that, “the Lord was with Joseph” in Egypt.

That simple phrase holds the lesson of first life in the pits. The Lord is with us. Others may betray us. God never will. We may face the devastation of incurable disease or the death of one we love, but the Lord will never abandon us to grapple with uncertainty on our own. He is with us…always. We draw strength from his presence.

The second lesson of the pits comes as the story unfolds. Famine hits and Jacob’s family must buy grain from Pharaoh. The elder brothers unknowingly come face to face with Joseph at the storehouse door. Imagine the feelings that washed over Joseph when he saw his brothers for the first time since they brutalized and betrayed him. Thoughts of vindication and payback surely crossed his mind.

I wonder if Joseph could ever foresee repairing the fractured relationship with his brothers when he sat so desolate in the bottom of the pit. When he walked in chains with the traders. When he served an Egyptian master or suffered in an Egyptian dungeon.

We see Joseph near the end of his story, recognizing that God made the most of a bad situation to save Joseph’s family and his people. He told his brothers, “What you intended for harm, God intended for good.” You see, somewhere in the unfolding of time God repaired Joseph’s broken and troubled heart. Allowed him to reconcile his life to his new reality.

Rebounding is never quick. Refocusing never easy. Recovery never without its bumps. Trusting his presence in our lives, we hold on to the truth that what others intend for harm or when life deals us a wicked turn, God will work for good.

What comfort might that provide to my friends who must rebound, refocus and recover from the trials and difficulties they continue to face? I find encouragement for them, and all who are struggling, in this story of an abandoned teenager who found himself in the pits. “The Lord was with Joseph” and he is with you and…he will work to bring good out of any situation.

It is a message echoed by Isaiah 43:2…

“When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned.”

Bless the Teacher Who Blesses the Child

Background Passage: Mark 10:13-16

It is to me one of the most endearing passages of scripture recorded about Jesus. God’s son journeys from Galilee toward Jerusalem in his final days on earth, bearing the burden of the cross and all it means both physically and spiritually. The cross and all its meaning rests as a dark shadow in his heart and mind. Nevertheless, as he goes, he teaches any who would listen about the kingdom of God and the faith required to experience its grace.

On this day, he sits in the courtyard of a home, speaking to a group of Pharisees who relentlessly question him, hoping he might somehow incriminate himself. The area is jam packed with people listening to the developing debate on divorce.

As the conversation intensified, a group of parents walked up to the house carrying babies and walking hand in hand with toddlers. More than anything in the world, these parents wanted Jesus to bless their children. These were parents who recognized the strength and power of his preaching and teaching. Parents who cared for the future of their little ones. Parents who wanted their children to know God and to be blessed by God.

Yet, they were blocked from entering, not by the Pharisees, but by Jesus’ own disciples. Rebuked in a forceful and misguided way for wasting the time of the teacher on such trivial matters. Children in the first century, you see, were deemed insignificant in spiritual matters. Conventional religious teaching centered on the need to earn your way into God’s grace by the things you did or did not do. The philosophy ran counter to what Jesus taught.

Jesus heard the commotion, recognized what was happening and became indignant and irritated with his disciples. He called to the parents, waving them inside with a cheerful voice and a welcoming smile.

Ignoring the crowd of onlookers and Pharisees, Jesus spent precious moments with each baby and child. Cradled the littlest of them lovingly to his chest, peeking through the swaddling clothes, letting them grasp his calloused fingers. He wrapped the toddlers in his arms, hugging them tightly. Tickled them. Made them giggle with silly faces. Then, with each child, he drew the parents into a small circle, prayed quietly and purposely for the cherished ones among them. Offering God’s protection and blessing upon their lives. Praying that they one day would come to understand in a personal way what it means to be a child of God.

As the parents left, he used this “interruption” to explain to the disciples and Pharisees that the key to God’s kingdom required childlike faith, not legalistic adherence to rules and law. It is a valuable lesson to all who would believe.

I find another truth in this familiar, but lightly regarded passage. This story popped into my mind about this time every year for the past 30 years. Despite my recent retirement from public school work, I thought again of this passage with the start of this new school year.

Without delving into separation of church and state issues or the frequent plea for a return of prayer into our schools, I believe no law has ever or will ever remove God from our public school systems. There are simply too many Christian educators calling upon God’s presence in their lives as they work with our children and young people. I know how much they care, how much they love, how much they do beyond teaching to meet the needs of children.

I watched for three decades as dedicated public school teachers, counselors, principals, and support staff, each committed to a personal faith in Christ, became the voice, the hands, the heart of Christ for the children and young people they encountered during the day. I know these amazing people prayed intently in the moment for those who were struggling in the classroom or hurting in their personal lives.

During the course of a day, they are heard as the voice of instruction to those who must be taught. A voice of encouragement to those who need strengthening. A voice of discipline to those who need correction. A voice of counsel to those who need guidance. A voice of praise to those who succeed.

They offer a hand to those who must be lifted up. A shoulder to those who need comfort. They offer their heart to those who need to be loved.

If you take the time to visit with them, they will tell you they look upon their work in public schools as God’s calling in their lives…their place of ministry and service in his kingdom. By living their faith each day they proclaim Christ’s love and blessing upon the children through the relationships they build with them.

In quiet and hectic times, Christian educators and Christian students pray. As a result, lives are blessed and changed. Lives are won to Christ through the daily witness of these amazing educators.

These Christian educators pray for Godly wisdom and discernment as they teach and interact with their students. They pray for our children and grandchildren as they learn and as they grow and mature into the people God wants them to be.

So, in turn, please pray each day for Christian men and women in our schools…whether they are public, private and home school teachers. Pray for strength, energy, compassion, insight and opportunity to bless the lives of the children and young people they encounter during the year.

Just as Jesus paused from his teaching to bless the children, pray for our Christian educators to find time to do the same with the students they teach.

“Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”

Author’s note: If the message speaks to you, share it with a friend who teaches. They will be encouraged to know you are praying for them.

Wonderfully Made…For a Purpose

Background Passage: Psalm 139

The brightest minds in Greek and Roman worlds for centuries before and after the time of Christ believed human wisdom, emotion, memory and thought centered in the heart, not the brain. Ancient ideas of physiology and psychology told them that God spoke through the heart; that within the heart lived the essence of man’s soul. They believed the brain was an internal radiator that simply cooled the blood as it circulated through the body.

Influenced by these cultures, the ancient Hebrews understood that the core of who and what they were was centered in the heart. In other words, like the ancient Greeks, they believed the heart was the focus of all rational thought and emotion. So unimportant was the brain in Hebrew thinking that the word is never recorded in scripture…not once.

Scientifically, we know the ancients were wrong. We continue to learn more about the brain as the depth of scientific research grows into the complex role it plays in our how we think, feel and learn. Though we know better, we still speak of “feeling” and “thinking” with our hearts, a metaphorical echo of scientific error relegated to the pages of history.

The human brain functions as one of God’s most marvelous creations, yet only in the past 150 years have scientists and physicians made serious efforts to understand how it works. In 1861, French physician Pierre Paul Broca discovered that small region of the left frontal lobe of the brain controls our ability to speak. In subsequent studies since that time, scientists have identified 83 specific areas of the brain that activate when we recognize a face, read a book, think about a specific memory or do certain types of physical work.

Neuroscientists at the University of Washington recently published a new map of the brain, revealing more than 97 previously unknown regions of the brain to add to the 83 areas already familiar to today’s scientists.

A Stanford University study recently used a new imaging technique called array tomography to look more closely at the brain’s neurons and synapses. The data collected produced a three-dimensional picture of these tiny cell connections. The images indicate that the number of synapses in the brain exceed the number of estimated stars in 1,500 Milky Way galaxies combined, making the brain far more complex that previously understood.

These new discoveries caused a few of my own synapses to make a few new connections. I thought of Psalms 139. The Psalmist, in his praise of God, wrote beautiful lyrics about his creative work.

“For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.”

We are God’s creation. Whether we developed through an evolutionary process or appeared in a molding of clay and bone is really immaterial to me. Neither view changes my understanding of God as Creator. To focus on that debate misses the point of my personal relationship to him. That he gave me this marvelous brain that thinks, acts, reasons, chooses, understands and loves is an amazing gift that governs my relationships to my God and to others. That he gave me the ability to grasp the concept of faith in him is grace in full measure.

That thought led to another. My son and his wife, Melissa, are expecting their second child in December. They have named her Amelia Diane. We saw another ultrasound of her yesterday. Even now as her body is developing inside the womb, God knows her and all she will become. The Psalmist explored that idea, also.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.”

I think of these things not to get into a debate on abortion and the definition of when life starts. Rather, I stand amazed that God already knows my granddaughter. That a God-ordained, perfect plan already exists for her life. That the only things standing in the way of that life are the choices she makes and the positive influence brought to bear through the unconditional love of her Christian parents and all of those who enter her life.

Her intricate and incomparable brain will be imprinted with her God-given uniqueness etched throughout its gray matter. The life he plans for her will unfold as it is imparted by her parents, instructed by gifted teachers at church and at school, and inspired by the love of family and friends that desire only the best for her.

One final thought occurred to me as I read again this familiar scripture. Intellectually, I know our brains, not our hearts, make us who we are. Yet, we must continue to lean upon the understanding of the ancients, like the Psalmist, to express our desire to be all that God wants us to be.

He planted a seed in all of us that longs for a Father. As we allow that seed to grow, God guides our lives through every trial, test and temptation. The seed, that free-will choice of heart and head–creates purpose. We uncover our purpose in God when we honestly seek him and genuinely desire to walk the path he sets out for us. As the Psalmist sang,

“Search me, God and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me.
Lead me in the way everlasting.”

You Matter to God; You Matter to Me

Background Passages: Genesis 1:26-27; Galatians 3:8; Mark 12:26-27

The Broadway musical Waitress tells a story about a young woman whose life turns out vastly different than she imagined it would. When life leaves her struggling as a waitress in a small diner, eking out a day to day existence with little to show for her effort, she feels invisible and unworthy of love and respect. She encounters a man who takes notice of her, sees her for who she really is. He spends time trying to convince her that she, and her life, are important.

Sara Bareilles, a talented singer and songwriter, penned the lyrics to You Matter to Me. The song speaks poignantly to the need in all of us to matter to someone. She wrote,

“I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes.
They’ve seen things that you never quite say, but I hear.
Come out of hiding I’m right here beside you.
And I’ll stay there as long as you let me.

“Because you matter to me.
Simple and plain, and not much to ask from somebody.
You matter to me.
I promise you do, you, you matter, too.
I promise you do, you see?
You matter to me.”

In explaining the lyrics to the song, Bareilles said, “It was something so simple that I think is at the heart of what we really look for when we want someone who really sees us. It’s just a feeling that what you do and who you are matters to someone.”

I’ve listened a great deal to that song in the past two weeks. Within the lyrics lies an answer, I think, to the many issues that tend to divide us today, including “Black Lives Matter.” “Police Lives Matter.” These are such sensitive issues and I’ll probably fumble through it. Please bear with me as I try to express my thoughts.

First, it matters to me that an African American man or woman is shot and killed by a police officer, whether that act was willful and deliberate, a terrible misunderstanding or an absolute accident. Black lives matter. Secondly, it matters that an individual, acting in unmitigated anger, willfully and deliberately targets and kills any police officer. Police lives matter.

The personal and national tragedies occurring across our country today sadden me. The division among us which these tragedies create saddens me. That the tragedies get exploited by individuals, media and groups with political agendas, saddens me. The social wedge it drives between us creates a deep, personal and public fracture that will take time and selfless understanding to heal.

I believe fundamentally that your life, regardless of who you are or what you do, matters. First and foremost, you matter to God. Genesis declares that people…all of us…are made in the “image of God.”

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Gen. 1:26-27.

Every human being, regardless of race, ethnicity, background or profession, in some way mirrors God…something of God can be seen and felt in each of us. As a result of our created connection to God, all people are important to God. All people matter to God.

There ought to be a God-inspired corollary to that truth, especially to those who call ourselves Christian. Because God matters to me–as His child, His creation–you also matter to me. Neither race, nor ethnicity, nor social status, nor profession, ought to change that belief.

Paul tells us in Galatians 3:8, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

The apostle need not spell out every category of human being for us to understand that in the eyes of our Father in heaven we stand the same. In every way that matters to Him and to us, we stand the same.

I was taught never to judge another unless I had walked in their shoes. My actions and the actions of others, are typically predicated on our personal experiences. How I respond to situations depends on what I have experienced, seen, heard and perceived…circumstances that impact my life. I cannot, therefore, fully understand the real and perceived discrimination African Americans feel. I have never walked in their shoes.

Nor can I fully understand the anxiety and trepidation a police officer must feel every time he or she answers a radio call for a domestic disturbance, a break-in, traffic stop or at any social protest. I have never walked in their shoes.

The plain and simple truth is we don’t need to walk in another’s shoes to sense their anguish over life circumstances. We just need to act on our faith principles and react in the love of Christ to each and every person we encounter.

Consider this. Jesus had been involved in one of those intense debates with the Jewish leadership who questioned so many of his teachings. Near the end, one of the teachers of the law came to Jesus and asked, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” Our Savior responded with a clear message about our relationship to God and to one another.

“The most important one is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12: 28-31

We have an abundance of issues that would divide us today…gay and transgender rights, immigration, terrorism, “Black Lives Matter,” “Police Lives Matter.” “All Lives Matter.” All I know is that my political and social perspectives…all aspects of my life…must match my faith perspective.

Those groups and individuals at the center of every one of these issues matter to God. Therefore, they and their feelings must matter to me. I matter to God. Therefore, I and my feelings, must matter to you. Until we start listening with intent to love as God loves, we will never find the common ground we need. We will never truly matter to each other.

You matter to God. You matter to me. As Bareilles says, “It’s not much to ask from somebody.”

In Whom There is Nothing False

Background Passage: John 1:43-51

Gene Lewis is 90 years old, still living by himself in Levelland, Texas. He is my Dad.

Born in Rhome, TX, in 1925, my Dad grew up in the small, West Texas farming community less than 20 miles from where he lives today. He served in the Navy during World War II, spending his time in San Francisco ensuring that the military supplies reached their destination on the front lines. He jokes that he served in the Navy and never set foot on a ship. After the service, he returned home, worked as a clerk in a bank until he was robbed at gunpoint and locked in the vault.

Dad spent most of his years as a cotton farmer and his later years working in the county tax appraisal district. After he retired and up until a few years ago, he delivered meals on wheels to the “old people” who couldn’t make it out of the house. He still works occasionally at the appraisal district during their busy times or to help train a new worker. He spends time trying to grow a few tomatoes in baked, red dirt that doesn’t cooperate much. He does love his home-grown tomatoes, but then, so does anyone who has ever tasted home-grown tomatoes.

That tells you what he has done, but not who he is. For that, I’ll simply remind you of the story of one of Jesus’ disciples.

Nathaniel (Bartholomew), 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 always rich with meaning and purpose. The stories to the multitudes penetrating…challenging the listener to think more deeply about God’s word. He was intrigued by this carpenter from Nazareth.

On this 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 stated as fact, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” It was not a put down as we have made it over the years. He questioned because the “facts” he knew didn’t align with scripture.

When Phillip and Nathaniel approached, Jesus stood to greet him. With a smile and a 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. The thought popped into my head again this week we approach Father’s Day. 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 were affectionate, but not mushy. They endured good-natured ribbing 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 helped raise a lawyer, a doctor and me. Dad instilled in all of his kids 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 knew how to leave the worries of the 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 the next steps. His work ethic and attitude toward life impacted me greatly.

Dad continues to teach me a great deal about our relationship to others. I don’t think I have 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 where he comes from or what he looks like. 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 you long to understand that his relationship to 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 circumstance for students of the 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 surroundings that Nathaniel’s study under the fig tree, his 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 my Dad, sitting in his recliner, studying his Sunday School lesson while we watched Andy and Opie or some inane Star Trek episode. 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 could regale you with stories about my Dad in hopes that you would know him as I do, but I can think of nothing better than this. Dad is Nathaniel in my eyes. A man in whom there is nothing false. And, I am a better man because he continues to teach me all he knows.

I love you, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day.