Category: Encouragement

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!

All Who Labor

Background Passages: Genesis 2:15; Ecclesiastes 3:9-13; Colossians 3:23-24; Matthew 11:38

From the time we are children, we eagerly anticipate holidays. Thanksgiving brings us a parade and a feast of turkey and dressing as it reminds us to express gratitude for all God has provided in life. Christmas excites us with its time of gifts and giving, of family and the celebration of Christ’s birth.

New Year’s Day brings its new beginnings and more than its share of doomed resolutions. Easter is a time for hunting eggs with the kids and wearing our Sunday best to church as we remember all Jesus did as his gift of salvation. July 4th is all about picnics and fireworks as it instills its sense of patriotism and love for country.

Then, comes Labor Day…with its day off and the certain knowledge that proper women can no longer wear white.

Labor Day, enacted as a national holiday by President Grover Cleveland in 1882, commemorates the labor rights established to protect workers from the exploitation of way too powerful corporations and greedy industrial moguls concerned only with profit. It recognizes the many contributions workers have made to America’s strength and prosperity. I’m often reminded on Labor Day to express my gratitude for those who do the dirty and necessary work to keeps our society functioning.

I’m grateful for those men and women in my life who taught me the value of hard work. My first examples were my Dad and every other farmer I ever knew in that small West Texas community where I grew up. Hard work was an expectation. A life commitment.

My Mom spent the early years of my life as an equally hard-working farmer’s wife. No one who hasn’t lived that life should scoff at that. It was never easy. Her later years were spent as a medical director of a retirement community where her skill and compassion brought comfort to her elderly patients.

My thoughts this Labor Day weekend are less about the holiday and more about the work we are called to do and how we are called to do it.

Work is hard. Whether we work at home, at school, on a factory floor, in a petrochemical plant, on a farm or in a nice, air-conditioned office, work can be difficult.

Unreasonable deadlines. Computer crashes. Difficult customers. Demanding bosses. Baffling regulations. The list of challenges faced in the workplace is endless. From labor shortages to the difficult decisions to let employees go, it never seems to get easier. Even at home there is always another dinner to cook, another pile of clothes to wash and a lawn that needs mowing.

Despite the fact that we may be doing work that we typically enjoy, there are days when you wonder if it’s worth the effort.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. In the perfect world God created, work would have been, well, perfect because the workplace was perfect.

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it…” (Genesis 2:15)

The life God planned for us went quickly off the rails because of sin’s devastating folly. The nature of work changed.

“Cursed is the ground because of you, in painful toil you shall eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you shall eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken. For dust you are and to dust you will return. (Genesis 3:17-19)

Brutal!

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes describes the writer’s work experiences…the disillusionment that comes when his work leaves him unfulfilled.

I hated life because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish? Yet they will have control over all the fruit of my toil in which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 2:17-18)

If that wasn’t sad enough, the writer continued to share his heart’s despair.

What do people get for all the toil and anxious striving with which they labor under the sun? All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 2:22-23)

His lament begins to sound like the gospel of the Rolling Stones, “I can’t get no satisfaction…but I try, and it try, and I try…

Let me stop there or we’ll be too depressed to get out of bed Tuesday morning. The writer of Ecclesiastes doesn’t completely despair. He doesn’t hit the snooze button on his alarm, refusing to get up for work the next morning. He tells us in Chapter 3 that there is a time for every activity under heaven.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has set eternity in the human heart; yet, no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil…this is the gift of God. (Ecclesiastes 3:9-13)

What changed in the writer’s heart?

It was the certain understanding that everything God created, even work, had its time, place and purpose. As we learn to trust him in all things, even work, we start seeing the work he has given us through our talent and skills as his work…doing good while we live.

So natural was this idea of work in God’s plan for us that when God sent his son to live and dwell among us, he toiled beside his father and brothers in the family business long before he began his ministry.

While the scripture tells us nothing about the 18 years between Jesus’ appearance in the temple as a 12-year-old and the beginning of his ministry as a man of thirty years, Jewish culture expected boys to begin working as apprentices in their father’s business. Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father was a carpenter, a worker in wood and stone.

It takes little imagination to feel the callouses on Jesus’ hands and see the muscles bulging as a result of many years wielding a hammer. You can see the tiny scars that represent every time the chisel slipped and cut his fingers. It takes little imagination to see the joy on his face as his friends and neighbors delighted in the house or table Jesus built for them with his own hands. It was a good work. A work God called him for when he sent him to Mary and Joseph. A work as much about his Father’s business at that time in his life as the redemptive work he would do later on the cross.

As he preached the gospel, Paul worked as a tentmaker to help pay his way. As someone who took pride in his work, Paul saw his vocation as an extension of his ministry. His way of setting himself apart from others as a witness for Christ. It was a word he extended even to the slaves of his day. This is what he told his brothers and sisters in Christ in the church at Colossae.

“Whatever you do work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” (Colossians 3:23-24)

We spent easily one-third of our adult lives working. Paul tells us to pour our hearts into our work. Give it our absolute best, even when we might feel mistreated. Work each day as if the Lord himself was your boss because, he says, “It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

It is the apostle’s way of reminding us that in a broken world, work will never be what it was intended. The good news is that Jesus changes everything. When we begin to see that our work, whatever it may be, is an extension of our ministry and mission given to us by God, then we’ll see the true value of every hour spent in his service.

• Farmers feed and clothe.
• Teachers develop and teach.
• Doctors and nurses heal.
• Industry workers create and build.
• Homemakers love and comfort.
• Police offers and firefighters protect and serve.

I don’t care what you do for a living. Your work is rife with opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus, touching the lives of all you encounter. What we do on Monday through Friday cannot be separated from the one we worship on Sunday.

It is the Lord Christ we are serving.

I don’t think I fully appreciated that truth as a young man. Work was work. Ministry was ministry. It didn’t often occur to me that those worlds should exist in the same space. God opened my eyes during a Halloween poster contest at one of the schools in our district.

I had been invited to judge a Halloween mask contest at one of the elementary campuses in my school district where I served in a low administrative role. Most of the masks hanging on the wall were decorated elaborately with obvious parental help.

Standing with the principal who was also judging, we came across one mask that was little more than a Kroger paper shopping bag with a crudely painted face upon it. Holes were raggedly cut for the eyes and mouth.

Thinking nothing of it, I sarcastically told the principal that it was obvious the parents didn’t help on this mask. She gave me a wry smile and told me that the father of the little girl who made this mask was in prison. The girl had been removed from her home because the mother had a severe drug addiction.

That timid, third grade girl had been sent to live with two elderly grandparents. Shortly after her arrival the grandmother died, leaving the little girl in the care of a grandfather who lived his life confined to a wheelchair and a bottle of oxygen.

By the time she finished the story, I fought back the tears of my insensitivity and heard clearly God’s gentle reminder that I was in this business to serve him. That I was to be about his business while doing my business.

I spent a few minutes that morning, my heart broken, but at the same time buoyed, sitting and talking with a smiling little third grade girl whose only refuge in life was the classroom. Whose only stability was her teachers.

God rocked my world that day, opening my eyes to the possibility that every minute of my work was my field…and the field was ripe for harvest. He reminded me that every day presented chances to show his love and grace to people who needed to feel his touch through me.

I hope you’ve had that moment in your career when you began to understand that it is the Lord Christ you are serving no matter what your job or profession might be.

It’s easy to do just enough work to get by. I watched a few people do exactly that during my 40-year career. However, God asks something different of those who he calls his children. As you start your work each day, be reminded that the writer of Ecclesiastes said to recognize our work is a “gift of God and to “do good while we live.”

When the alarm goes off each day, remember that Paul said that “whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,” as if you’re really “working for the Lord.” Find ways to express his love through the work you do.

If you’re doing it right, I’m convinced work will always be difficult, but it will never be drudgery. There will be times when “Thank God It’s Friday” will be less in anticipation of a weekend of celebration and more a prayer of praise that you survived another week. However, if we work each day as if we’re working for God, then the burden will not be all that heavy. There will be joy in the labor.

As a carpenter and stonemason, Jesus knew what it meant to work long, back-breaking hours in the blistering sun. He knew the burden of responsibility would take its toll some days…especially if we remember that it is the Lord Christ we’re serving. I think that’s one reason he told those who would listen…

Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

So as we enter this Labor Day holiday weekend, I pray you find the deserved rest and peace of Christ that will recharge your batteries and enable you to punch the clock on Tuesday with the resolve of one who knows for whom he is working.

Happy Labor Day!

Deep Roots

Background Passages: Matthew 13:1-23

Reading through the Bible gives us a marvelous glimpse into the teachings of Christ. The truth revealed remains as universally true today as it was then. However, I can’t help but feel that every conversation recorded in the Bible that Jesus has with the people who followed him from place to place is a concisely edited synopsis of what was actually discussed.

I enjoy reading between the lines and imaging the scene unfold. Jesus spent some time one day telling a parable about how differently God’s truth is received by those who hear it. As the day closed, his disciples struggled to understand so Jesus took the time to explain the truth they needed to know.

I sometimes like to put myself around the campfire, listening in on the conversations Jesus had with others. Read the passage in Matthew 13. Then, read the story below. Don’t worry about the format. I promise it’s not poetry. It’s just style.  I certainly don’t know if it happened this way, but it seems to be in keeping with my image of my Lord.

“Like locusts,”
Peter marveled,
“descending on a field of grain.”
The disciple commented on the crowd
gathering for the Master’s teaching.
Another day.
Another multitude.

James.
A disciple of Christ.
The son of Alphaeus.
Not the fisherman.
Raised his head.
Glanced back at the mass of humanity
spreading out across the mountain.
Muttered his agreement.
“Give them credit,” said James.
“They’ve come a long way in this heat
just to hear his words of wisdom.”

James watched Jesus working his way
among the crowd.
So full of energy.
Eager to engage each person on a personal level.

Stretching almost as far as he could see,
hundreds of men, women and children
congregated on the dusty hillside.
Turned its landscape into a
blossoming field of flowing robes.
Stretching their necks to catch a glimpse of the man who…
Worked miracles.
Fed thousands.
Healed the infirmed.
Spoke more clearly than any rabbi.

James shook his head in wonder.
Leaning hard against the prow of the boat,
He and Peter
pushed the small fishing vessel
into the warm waters of the Sea of Galilee.
Gave their Master a platform from which to speak.

The multitude settled at last to understand more about
the carpenter turned rabbi.
Many shouted out.
Sought answers to their most pressing questions.
“Who are you exactly?”
“Why are you here?”
“What must we do?”

Questions James heard since the
Jewish leaders began their disinformation campaign
accusing Jesus of every type of heresy under the Law.

James watched.
Jesus waited.
The tide of questions ebbed.
Amid the silence of anticipation,
Jesus pointed to the distant hillside.
“See that farmer?”

The crowd turned to look.
James chuckled under his breath
at the sound of rustling robes turning in unison.

A Farmer.
Stood straight against the weight of the
heavy seed bag tied around his waist.
Every two or three steps he stopped.
Dipped his hand into the sack.
With a casual and practiced flick of his wrist,
he cast seeds across his small plot of land.

“My work is much like his,” said Jesus,
“Sowing seeds of God’s truth to those who will hear.”
As the crowd turned back, he asked,
“Will you listen?”

“A farmer went out to sow his seed…”

James sat at Jesus’ feet as he always did.
Mesmerized
by every word.
Marveled
that the simplest illustration held such elaborate truth.
Awestruck that Jesus could pull a lesson of
immortal value from the
most mundane acts of life.

Sermon ended.
Service began.
Jesus and the disciples moved through the crowd.
Helping in any and every way they could.

James thought about the parable
throughout the day as he worked.
Unsettled.
Uncertain.
Uneasy.
He missed something.
He was sure of it.

At last,
the crowd dispersed.
Jesus sat around the campfire surrounded by
his most trusted followers.
Exhausted from the day’s ministry.
As was their habit,
they sat around the campfire…
Talking quietly.
Reflecting privately.
Discussing intimately.
Debating meaning and intent of the words they heard.

Jesus.
Rested against a fig tree.
Arms across his chest.
Head back.
Eyes closed.
Listening, but not looking.

James.
Shuffled from group to group.
Listened intently to the conversations.
Contributed little as he processed what he heard.
He found himself standing beside the tree where Jesus sat.
More nervous than usual when alone with Jesus.
Kicked the toe of his sandal against a root,
hoping that Jesus would notice his presence.

Finally, he cleared his voice.
“Jesus.
Are you asleep?”

Jesus.
Didn’t move a muscle though
a rueful grin broke across his face.
One weary eye opened.
One eyebrow raised.
“I wish!” He groaned.
Glancing up at the young disciple,
“What do you need,
my friend?”
.
James looked sheepishly at the others around the fire,
feeling inside that they knew things he did not know.
“That parable you told today…
about the farmer…
What exactly did it mean?”

Jesus arched his back.
Pushed away from the trunk of the tree.
Grasp his knees and pulled them to his chest.
Speaking in a voice loud enough for all the disciples to hear,
“Among all men, you are fortunate.
The secrets of the Kingdom of God have been revealed to you.”
James chuckled again as the rustle of their robes
reminded him of the crowd on the hillside.

Closing his eyes as if thinking of the multitude,
Jesus shook his head.
“The others…the people…
I speak in parables to help them understand.
So they can see what they may not see.
Hear what they may not understand.”

He paused for a moment.
Searched their eyes.
Sensed their uncertainty.

“This is what the parable means…”

The explanation.
Lengthy and to the point.
The disciples listened.
Some nodded in agreement.
Some probed with further questions.
James sat silently.
Getting the point,
but still sensing a gap in his understanding.
Innate shyness prevented him from pushing for clarity.

Later.
Jesus leaned again,
alone against his tree.
The others congregated in small clusters around the camp.
Again in quiet conversation.

James.
Paced the edge of darkness.
Hands behind his back.
Deep in thought.
He found himself once again
standing beside the tree.
Silent.
Still.

Jesus again wearily opened one eye.
Raised one eyebrow.
Smiled slightly at the timid intrusion.
Spoke in a quiet, reassuring voice.
“Something bothering you, James?”

The young disciple
leaned against the tree.
Facing east to Jesus’ south.
Slid quietly to the ground,
letting the course bark scratch his back.
He settled in silence into a comfortable spot.

Always patient,
Jesus waited for his friend to speak.
After a moment, James said,
“I get most of it, I think.
You’re the farmer…at work in your world.
The seed…God’s truth. His word.
The different kinds of soil…hearers of His word.
Hard.
Rocky.
Thorny.
Fertile.”
James paused again,
unsure of his next thought.

James pressed Jesus for clearer understanding.
Deeper insight.
About the soil…the listeners.
“How can they hear the same word so differently?”

“What do you think?” Jesus asked,
“always answering a question with a question.”

“The hard soil.
On the surface, no pun intended,” he smiled.
“it seems to talk about the…
Determined opponent of God.
Disinterested in godly things.
Hard. Bitter. Beaten down by life.
Refusing to let any ounce of truth penetrate the surface.
Hardened to any possibility of faith.
Clearly, an unbeliever.”

“But, I think there’s more to it than that.”
Turning to Jesus he said,
“Isn’t it possible a person could be so wrapped up in doing good,
that he may no longer hear a new word from God?
So focused on his ministry that he misses other opportunities to serve?

Jesus.
Eyes still closed.
He said,
“True enough.
Look at the Pharisees.
So busy with ritual they never get to know God intimately.
So involved in ‘worship’ they never practice what they preach.
Worship must be personal.
Must breech the hardness of our hearts
or it’s meaningless.”

Encouraged,
James pressed on.
“The soil on top of rocky ground…
Enough sustenance to sprout.
Not enough to grow.
Some listeners,
excited about the work of God,
try to live it daily.
Yet when crisis comes,
when they fall upon hard times,
they fall away.
Faith withers and dies.”

Jesus nodded.
“We must be grounded,
rooted in our faith,
if we are to withstand the difficulties
we will inevitably face.
Life is not easy.
A true life of faith even more difficult.
Setting our roots means we must be so grounded
in our study of God’s word
that we never lack for spiritual nourishment that sustains.”

James quietly quoted something Jesus said
in another time,
another place.
“If I say I love God and don’t evidence it in my life,
I’m a liar.”

Jesus laughed,
“You have been listening.”

The two men sat in silence for a while as James thought
deeply about what Jesus said.
The disciple took another deep breath.
“Let’s talk about the third soil…
Full of weeds and thorns.
Choking the life out of the good grain.
Bad attitudes and actions strangle life.
Good intentions get choked out by disbelief.”

James.
Energized.
Engaged.
Eager.
Sat cross legged now facing Jesus.
Hands gesturing to punctuate his excitement.
“Lives get smothered by things that ultimately don’t matter.
We nit-pick each other over inconsequential things.
Kill our own spirit and the
spirits of those around us.”

Jesus.
Fully awake and animated
mirrored James’ posture.
Cross legged and leaning toward his friend.
He reached across the distance between them.
Slapped him on the knees.
“Now, you’re getting it!”

Jesus added,
“There is a tendency to lose the joy of salvation.
The dogs of life nip at our heels.
We let bias and prejudice get in the way of loving relationships.
Arguments over things…
great or small…
just don’t matter in the end.
It chokes our relationships.
Get in the way of our ability to love one another.”

Jesus’s eyes danced.
“Go on, James,” he urged,
“What about the good soil?”

James sat for a minute.
Stunned that he was enmeshed in this conversation.

“The good soil…
Fertile.
Rich.
Bountiful.

“Represents those of us who get it.
Those who understand what God desires of us.
Understand more clearly who you are.”
Those who take part in the harvest.
Bringing people to know you.
To accept your truth.”

Jesus.
Shook his head.
“The kingdom needs more people
connected to the vine and
producing fruit.”

James sat back,
basking in Jesus’ praise.
It was a good feeling.

Jesus stared at him with an intensity
he had never sensed from his master.
“Think, James.
“It’s deeper than that. There’s more.
Keep digging.”

James found himself…
Prodded.
Probed.
Propelled beyond
convenience and conventional wisdom.
His mind raced.
Vaguely aware that other disciples had gathered around.
Listening intently to the dialogue.

His finger punched in frustration at the ground beneath him.
“I don’t understand.
You’re not making sen…”
James stopped in mid-sentence.
Sat back.
Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
His mind processing a new thought.

Quietly.
Thinking aloud.

“The farmer broadcast his seed in the field.
The field…
The field…
It’s the same field…
All of the soils.
Hard packed.
Shallow.
Thorny.
Fertile.
They’re all in the same field!”

Jesus leaned in…
Broad smile on his face…

“Sooooo…”

James looked at Jesus.
Tears of understanding welled in his eyes.
“They’re all me.
Every soil is me.
It’s not about how the multitude responds to the gospel,
it’s about how I respond.

I can be at times too hard…
too busy even in service to be of service.
I can be shallow and artificial in faith…
fainting at the first sign of adversity.
I can be overly concerned with things
that don’t matter in God’s grand scheme.
Hypercritical of others.
Or,
I can be productive, fertile…
fully responsive to the will of God in my life.

Jesus looked at James.
Eyes sympathetic and understanding.
“Knowing our capacity for failure is the
first step in avoiding the pitfalls.
Like I said before,
‘All have sinned and fallen short of the
glory of God.”

James wiped away tears with the sleeve of his tunic.
Embarrassed by his display of emotion.

Jesus.
Grasp the hand of his disciple.
Firm and reassuring.
“Don’t worry about the tears, James.
You’re in the good soil now.
You’re just watering your roots.”

I’m not sure about you. This parable speaks to my faith…crisply and clearly. Identifying my life, at best, as a spasmodic attempt to respond to the call of God.

Any honest evaluation of my life shows that I am sometimes…self-absorbed. Too busy acting good, rather than doing good. Sometimes…false and artificial. Exhibiting a show of faith, without the substance of faith. Sometimes…Nit-picky and hypocritical. Judging the speck of sawdust in the eyes of others, while ignoring the plank in my own.

Sometimes…fertile and productive. Stretching my roots into the deep, loamy soil of God’s truth. Fully responsive to his will.

My prayer for me and for you is simply this. That we find time to listen to the voice that tells us we’re missing something important in God’s word. To find the courage to sit at the tree where Jesus sits, asking for clarity and understanding. To dig deeper into familiar scripture. To sink our roots into the fertile soil of truth.

May our tears of understanding water the roots of our faith.

Author’s note: Life intervened this week. While I studied God’s word as I normally do, I could not find the time to write a new word. So, this is a slightly edited version of a study I wrote back in 2016. It served as a great reminder to me to keep digging for God’s truth.

Raise the Bar

Background Passages: 2 Peter 1:5-9; Galatians 5:16 and Philippians 3:10-14
The streak of laziness that runs through my bones was never more evident than my high school track career. I tried out for every field event in an effort to escape any serious running events. While I had a small measure of success in the shot put, my efforts at the broad jump, high jump and pole vault might be classified as dismal.
I found the sand pit too far from the foul line and the pole vault abjectly frightening. I really wanted to do the high jump, but my technique and general lack of skill ended that dream.
A few years after my high school efforts, my cousin Paul advanced to the Texas state championship in the high jump and eventually took his skill to college where he set a personal best of 6’10”. He fell just short of the world record…had he been jumping in 1937. (I hope God will forgive me for that family dig even if Paul doesn’t.)
I don’t know for sure how high the bar was when the competition started back when Paul was back in college. I’d be stunned if they started the event at 6’10”. Paul most certainly worked up to his personal best in incremental steps. Each jump built upon the success of the preceding jump. Chances are my cousin never would have cleared his personal best without raising the bar along the way.
I found myself wondering this week if that’s what Peter had in mind as he began his second letter to the early Christian churches. To grow in our spiritual maturity, Peter said we need to be willing to raise the bar along the way.
Peter tells those early Christians and those who follow them, that God has given us everything we need to live a godly life. We just have to keep raising the bar of excellence and spiritual maturity. Read his words.
For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love. 
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.” (2 Peter 1:5-9)
Because God has given us everything we need to live a godly life, we must keep pushing ourselves toward a deeper faith…a deeper and wiser spiritual maturity. We’ll never make that move if we keep the bar low.
Peter says we make an initial leap of faith in our trust of Jesus Christ as savior. We learn in Hebrews 11:6 that “without faith it is impossible to please God. “
Far too many seem to think that’s all that is required…and it is to a point…a true expression of faith in Jesus as savior puts you on the list of God’s redeemed.
That’s a little like clearing the bar at its opening height. Elite high jumpers have little difficulty clearing that first jump. Had any of them been content with that first jump, they might not have tried higher heights.
Placing our faith and trust in Jesus as savior is a great first jump. Staying at that height does not grow our faith. It does not allow us to stretch our understanding of who God is and what he asks of us.
Read through that list of character traits Peter shares. Nothing within them suggests a random order. Each trait builds upon the preceding trait. He says make sure you add to your faith a life of goodness. Making right choices. Virtuous. Pure. Live a life that reflects Christ in you. Letting God’s way be your standard. That seems a natural evolution of our faith commitment. Declare your faith then live a life of virtue and purity.
As you begin to live a life that reflects Christ, you gain knowledge into his teachings, discerning what is right and what he requires of those who follow him. You gain an understanding of the nature of God and thus the nature he desires for us.
Paul’s words to the Philippians would reinforce this thought.
“Finally, brethren, 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. (Philippians 4:8)
As time passes and we invest ourselves in God’s word, we gain an understanding and knowledge of how he lived and the words he spoke. Such understanding enables us to deepen our faith and expand and enhance the good we are doing.
Then, we raise the bar higher. Finding the self-control or discipline to resist our former way of life and the temptations that will surely come. It is getting a grip on our passions in order to stay focused and committed to what we’ve been taught in God’s word. This, then, leads to a stronger faith, a goodness that seldom wavers because we continue to grow in our knowledge of his will and way.
Perseverance speaks to the ability to stay the course when days get more difficult. To persist in our pursuit of godly character even when it is hard to do so. It is the patience to keep exercising our faith, goodness, knowledge gained and discipline to remain strong during hard times. The ability to fight off the temptation to abandon what we believe and know when circumstances don’t go our way.
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross… (Hebrews 12:2-3)
Raise the bar yet again because as we stay strong in the face of hardship, we are demonstrating a deep respect for God and his love for us. The call to live a life of godliness suggests a faith that is practiced and practical. It is simply the faith we put into practice. We determine to be more and more like him in pursuit of the godliness…being Christ-like…in the way we live and relate to those around us, especially those who are outcasts.
James put it this way in his brief letter.
Religion that God our father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (James 1:27)
It is this raised bar of Christian living that demands we love those who persecute us. Insists that we love the sinner but reject the sin. Encourages us to wrap our arms around those society pushes aside.
Jesus raised the bar for his disciples when he told them that the evidence of their godliness is in the gentleness, kindness and grace extended toward our fellow believers. In their love for one another.
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  (John 13:35)
It is a picture of grace and forgiveness within the body of Christ that builds up the church rather than tearing it down. Our brotherly kindness and love is the light of Christ reflected through the church that invites the unbeliever to consider a life with Christ. It is this light that opens the door of salvation to a lost world.
It is the love that allowed Peter and Paul to embrace the faith of the Gentile believers. It is the love that forgives the hurt caused by our fellow believer so that church continues to model God’s love for the world. It is the love that makes a church a church.
“And, now, these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (I Corinthians 13:13)
Peter raises the bar one last time in this passage. Read the words again.
…add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love.
Peter goes beyond brotherly love when he suggests that we will reach new heights when we learn to love each other as God loved. This is agape love. It is a love abounding from our hearts by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. It is the spark that compels us to go out of our way to share our faith, to love those who others deem unlovable. To reach into the community to meet needs expecting nothing in return.
May the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another and for all men, just as we also do for you. (I Thessalonians 3:12)
The list Peter shares may seem daunting. Who could live a life like this other than Jesus Christ? Each characteristic he asks us to pursue reflect the character of God himself. Take a look at verse 4 immediately preceding our primary passage in 2 Peter 1. Peter declares that God gave us his gift of salvation and his promises so that we might “participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world…”
These traits of our heavenly father are the traits he wants to see evident in the lives of those who believe in him. The list Peter shares is not a “how to,” but rather a statement about what is possible. That a focused and committed life can keep raising the bar of excellence as we become more Christ-like. It is a process and is something to which we can strive. Peter is giving us a picture of what we can become if we make spiritual maturity a priority.
I’ve lived almost seven decades on this earth. I wish I could declare that I’ve cleared the bar set by God. I’m certain I have not. It is a growth process, even until the day we die.
Christian growth and maturity is neither automatic nor a matter of time. Growth occurs as we consistently and obediently seek to grow…as we hurdle each bar…with the power and help of God’s spirit and the faithful study of God’s word.
Peter offered us both an encouraging word and a warning in 2 Peter 1:8-9.
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.”
We said earlier the reason we seek after these traits is to understand the character of God and participate in that divine nature. Then, we must consistently demonstrate these traits in our lives in increasing measure each day we live. To be effective and productive in our knowledge of Jesus.
To simply let that initial faith commitment slide suggests we’ve forgotten what Jesus did for us on the cross.
I’ll make one last connection. Peter’s choice of character traits in his second letter to believers is similar to the fruit of the Spirit Paul discusses in some of his letters. Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5 as the qualities God produces in us through the work of the Spirit.
The key to manifesting the fruit of the Spirit, according to Galatians 5:16, is to walk in the Spirit. A spiritual lifestyle choice. This passage in Peter tells us how to walk in the Spirit, constantly jumping the higher bar of spiritual maturity.
I want to know Christ and the power of the resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings…Not that I have attained all of this or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me…but one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining forward to what is ahead. I press on… (Philippians 3:10, 12-14)
I hope you will join me in making that thought a commitment in the days to come. Maybe we can clear the next bar together.

Choose to Remember

Background Passages Lamentations 3:21-26,40; Romans 15:13

If you opened my Bible, you’d find the margins dotted with editorial comments of lessons learned from personal Bible studies and notes taken from sermons preached by my pastors over the years. It is study method I learned from my parents who both taught Sunday School. I watched them make those margin notes and began to follow their lead.

It got me in trouble with my pastor when I was 10 years old. I sat with some other children near the front of the sanctuary listening to the sermon. The pastor said something I thought was significant so I jotted it down in the margin of my Bible, just like my Dad often did.

After the sermon the pastor fussed at me for writing in my Bible. I needed to treat it more reverently, he said. I remember being near tears as he scolded me. I’m pretty sure my Dad had a “come to Jesus” meeting with the pastor after I told him what happened. He had that look in his eye.

Dad just told me to keep taking notes as long I was writing things that I felt like God was teaching me. He said, “I’m quite sure God won’t mind.”

Today, the margins of some books in my Bible are a jumbled mess of handwritten notes and lines drawn from one verse to another. A few books in my Bible are dotted with little more than a scattering of comments notated in the margin.

Lamentations is one of those books. Obviously, I’ve not spent a lot of time in Lamentations and, frankly, not many of my pastors over the years delivered a sermon with Lamentations as its source.

Most Bible scholars believe Jeremiah wrote Lamentations. As a witness to the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple in 586 B.C.E., his grief over Israel’s loss was palatable.

The name of the book in Hebrew is “ekah,” literally “How…,” the characteristic beginning of a funeral dirge. It makes sense as Jeremiah’s sorrow expressed his laments as he witnessed the political and spiritual death of his beloved nation. The word Lamentations derives from the book title as it appears in the Greek Septuagint and the Latin Vulgate translations of the Bible.

A lament is a crying out…a song of sorrow. More than simply crying, a lament is a form of prayer. A conversation with God about the pain you’re experiencing. The hopeful outcome of a lament is trust. A recognition that God hears your sorrow and remains present throughout the experience.

Mark Vroegop, a pastor in Indianapolis, said “Laments turn toward God when sorrow tempts you to run from him.” He said there are four essential elements to a lament. Turning to God by laying your heart at his feet. Sharing your sorrows and fears. It is the moment when a person who is pain chooses to talk to God.

A lament brings a complaint to God and asks boldly for his help in finding a path through the circumstances. Sorrow is when we give in to despair or denial and find no hope. A lament dares to hope in God’s presence and promises.

The final element of a lament is a sense of renewed hope. It is an invitation to renew our trust in God amid the brokenness we feel.

The first verse of Lamentations sets the stage for the prophet’s internal suffering.

How deserted lies the city once so full of people! How like a widow is she who once was great among the nations! (Lamentations 1:1)

Jeremiah’s feelings run downhill from that somber beginning. As you read through the verses, you hear the shock and despair in the prophet’s voice. The devastation he witnessed was real.

To make matter worse, Israel brought this destruction upon itself, by its own rebellion and sin. That’s the burden heard in the prophet’s lament. The author knows that the Babylonians who conquered the people of Israel served as human agents of God’s divine punishment because of the sinfulness of the Hebrew people. It is a bitter pill.

The value of Lamentations to modern day Christians is its underlying belief in God’s redemptive and restoring work in our lives. The hope of a lament recognizes that God is both sovereign and good. Vroegop said lamenting is one of the most “theologically informed things a person can do.”

Life is messy and hard. Most of us have witnessed the destruction of our metaphorical Jerusalem. Circumstances and events don’t turn out as we planned. Relationships fracture as bridges burn in the background. Physical suffering saps our strength. People we love die. The hurt we feel drills deep into our soul.

Under those circumstances it might be far easier to feel embittered and angry. Expressing pain and confusion to God rather than becoming resentful and cynical requires a spiritual strength we can’t always muster. Laying our troubles at the throne of God and asking God repeatedly for his help requires a faith grounded in his word.

After reading through Lamentations this week, I found Jeremiah’s words both instructive and encouraging. Knowing that I can lay the cries of my heart at God’s feet, even when I am responsible for my circumstances, provides a sense of comfort. Hearing the words of hope and promise from Jeremiah’s own heart gives me hope that my cries will be heard.

Jeremiah struggled with the things he witnessed. The destruction. The suffering. The confusion. The judgment that came as God allowed Israel to suffer the consequences of their spiritual rebellion. He detailed his misery in verse after verse until he gets to my favorite verses in the entire book.

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 myself: “The Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:21-26)

Hear the beauty of the passage. That which the prophet remembers gives hope. What he remembers is not all he reported in the previous verses. What gives him hope is the truth he shares next.

He remembers “God’s great love.”  Other translations use “God’s steadfast love.” Steadfast suggests something that is firmly fixed or immovable. Something unshakable.

This steadfast love keeps Jeremiah from feeling consumed. With all that happened, every step Jeremiah takes is labored. It would be easy for the prophet to feel as if he hangs precariously at the end of his rope. Unable to go on. God’s unshakable love does not lead him into a dark place that overwhelms, but to a hope that endures. It is the silver lining in the storm clouds over his head.

Jeremiah’s life experience tells him that God’s compassions…his mercies…his grace…never failed him in the past. He sees no reason why they would fail him now, even in this most personal loss.

In the beauty of passage, Jeremiah says that God’s compassion renews every morning. Every new day is a reminder of God’s faithful love and his desire to extend his grace and mercy to all who seek him. God is a faithful and fair even when it is unmerited.

As a result of this understanding, Jeremiah knows God is sufficient in all things….his portion. It allows him to wait, even in his distress, for God to reveal himself…for God to bring an end to the suffering. For God to bring him through. He rests his hope in the promise of God’s goodness, trusting that God will cover him through his sorrow and trouble.

That’s the truth I often need to hear. You can find example after example of God’s extended love, compassion and grace toward those who are hurting in both the Old Testament and the New Testament.

I think the key in this is what Jeremiah says in the beginning of this passage. Do you see it?

“This I call to mind…”

After all the horror and pain he shared from his opening words until this point in Chapter 3, Jeremiah said, “This I call to mind…” or “This I choose to remember…”

What is he calling to mind?

His declaration points forward to God’s great love and mercy. To God’s faithfulness and goodness. To his sufficiency and salvation. This is what he chooses to call to mind.

There isn’t a Christian among us who hasn’t dealt with tears. Our world is broken and brings its own special brand of hardships that we all must bear…believers and non-believers. It often consumes our thoughts. Darkens our spirit.  Often our sorrows make us feel we cannot take another step.

It seems the difference is what we choose to remember. What we choose to call to mind. You can dwell on the sorrow or you can dwell on God.

Dealing with the struggles and trouble of life will always be easier when we choose to remember God’s steadfast love and his mercy that renews itself with each new day. When we choose to remember God’s faithfulness instead of dwelling on our sorrow, we will find hope, as Jeremiah did, instead of bitter despair.

I love the truth this teaches. Life’s circumstances may make us feel as if we can’t go on, but God is not done. He is not finished. You will not fail because his love and compassion never fail.

I don’t know where your heart is today. If it is breaking…if it is filled with sorrow and despair. As real as that pain may feel, choose to trust in God’s great love and compassions that renew every morning. Choose to wait on him to work his will in your life. Trust his timing. Choose to remember God’s faithfulness.

As you make that choice, even in the middle of life’s most troublesome times, you will find hope in a Creator God who loves you without reservation.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:13)

A Little Mustard; A Little Leaven

Background Passages: Matthew 13:31-33; Romans 10:14-15 and James 2:15,17

We all love a good story. Great storytellers connect with us on a personal and emotional level, finding ways to engage, influence, teach and inspire all who really listen. While storytelling is both art and science, some folks are naturally gifted storytellers. Others learned the craft over time.

As I’ve studied the Bible over the years, I find myself wishing I could go back in time to walk down the road with Jesus or sit on a rock around his campfire as he was sharing a truth to everyone within earshot. Jesus rarely lectured. To get his point across, he told stories. The Bible calls these stories parables.

If you’ve read enough scripture, you know Jesus was a master storyteller. I also suspect that Jesus’ parables recorded in scripture are probably Cliff Notes versions of the real conversations, edited to the quotable parts that we might actually hear. Listening to Jesus spin his tales would be an experience unlike any other.

Drawing upon images from everyday life, he shared truths about God’s heart and about kingdom living. While we can’t hear him speak, reading his stories in the Bible is the next best thing.

The 13th Chapter of Matthew is filled with story after story that Jesus used to teach about God’s kingdom. Verse 3 says, “Then he told them many things in parables…” And, he did… especially in this chapter.

The parable of the sower and the seed. The parable of the weeds. The parable of the hidden treasure and the pearls. The parable of the net. You’ll also find the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven bread. Two quick parables in three short verses.

Take a look.

And he told them another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.

He told them still another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.” (Matthew 13:31-33)

Now, had I been that fly on the deck of Jesus’ rowboat that day, I might have asked, “Jesus, would you care to elaborate? What are you getting at?” If anyone asked, scripture doesn’t tell us. So, we have to think…just as Jesus intended.

To be clear, the mustard seed is not really the smallest seed used in Jesus’ day, but it was proverbial in the first century for “smallness,” a convenient and recognizable example for something tiny or small.

The mustard seed was a garden herb common in regional cuisine of the first century. It does grow into a tree-like bush sometimes as high as 12 feet. Because of its tree-like structure, it would have not been uncommon to see birds resting, nesting and feasting on the little black seeds.

Jesus followed his tale of the mustard seed with another familiar picture drawn from everyday life. Bread was the staple of life in the first century. Leaven is nothing more than fermented dough kept over from a previous baking of bread.

Bread without leaven, unleavened bread, always baked flat, dense and hard. Leaven served the same purpose as yeast does today. Mixing leaven into fresh dough made the bread soft, porous, spongy and delicious. (I can smell it baking, can’t you?)

What truth is Jesus conveying when he used this imagery as he taught?

It could not have been easy for the disciples to watch great crowds gather around Jesus and have the majority of them walk away unaffected and unchanged by Jesus’ words. Earlier in Matthew’s gospel, they asked Jesus, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?” It’s as if they were saying, “Why do you tell these stories? Just tell them how the cow ate the cabbage.”

Jesus, in essence, told his disciples that the hearts of the people had grown calloused to the point of not hearing anything remotely resembling a sermon.

By virtue of being Jewish, they were God’s chosen after all. They could not and would not understand the unvarnished truth about the changing nature of God’s kingdom. Jesus told his disciples that he spoke in parables because “…they hardly hear with their ears and they have closed their eyes.” (Matthew 13:15)

At the end of other parables, Jesus sometimes says, “He who has ears, let him hear.” In other words, Jesus is saying, if you’re paying attention and if you’ll think about it seriously and how it fits into your life, you’ll see what I’m trying to tell you with this story.

In these verses, the picture Jesus paints with his stories is about the stunning and exponential growth of God’s kingdom.

Now, it might be helpful here to define “God’s kingdom.” When you and I declared Christ as Lord and have gave him control of our lives, we entered the kingdom of God. A group of believers who trust him as savior and live each day in the “righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17) It is the community of faith allowing God, through Christ, to govern the way we live.

These two parables run parallel teaching about the stunning growth of God’s kingdom. when the tiny mustard seed becomes a large tree and the lump of leaven permeates the whole dough.

Think about how it all started. Jesus and a handful of disciples working throughout Galilee and Judea, taking a message of repentance and hope to all they encountered as they lived out their lives. Each step along the way, the kingdom grew as more and more people believed in and trusted Jesus.

After Jesus’ ministry, the New Testament church began in the upper room in Jerusalem with about 100 followers, none of whom were great religious scholars. Fishermen. Tax collectors. Zealots. Poor. Uneducated. Frightened. A bunch of nobodies who found themselves with the one person who was the glue holding them together.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit and over the span of 2,000 years, the kingdom of God has grown beyond expectation. From this mustard seed, this lump of leaven, the gospel of Christ has spread throughout the world. In doing so, it has become a place of spiritual food and rest for the birds in its branches and a transforming power in the world’s lump of dough.

Yet, there is a reason why these parables still speak to us today. It’s the same reason Jesus told them in the first place.

We live in a world today in which the hearts of people have grown calloused. By virtue of living in a “Christian country,” we assume some favored status in God’s kingdom. We’ve become some hard-hearted in our culture that we “hardly hear with our ears and we have closed our eyes” to his truth.

Recent statistics show that the number of non-churched, unchurched and de-churched people is growing at about 10 percent each decade. In other words, the population non-believers, believers who have never plugged into a church after committing their lives to Christ increases a bit each year.

The number of those believers who left the church because they were hurt by someone or something within the church keeps growing as the church itself is shrinking. It is an alarming trend.

That phenomenon becomes more and more evident over the past 50 years. We could easily list the reasons behind the decline, but that’s not really the point here. I think the only reason that matters is that the church quit consistently reaching out in ministry and love.

We open our doors, very willing to love and help all who enter our doors, but we rarely do as Jesus did and go out to meet them where they live. To ministry in the neighborhoods.

In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, he told them how to become a part of the kingdom of God.

If you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved…Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:9, 13)

Then, Paul issues the challenge that reverberates from the 1st century to the 21st.

How then, can they call on the name of the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one in whom they have not heard? And how they can hear without someone preaching to them? And. how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” (Romans 10:14-15)

Author Cecil Northcott once told of an international evangelical convention he attended to discuss how the gospel might be spread. The people in attendance talked about the distribution of literature, large scale revivals and other means available in the early 20th century. Then, one girl from Africa spoke.

“When we want to take Christianity into one of our villages” she said, “we don’t send them books. We send a Christian family to live in the village and they make the village Christian by living there.”

That’s how it’s supposed to work, I think. We can’t wait for the lost and the hurting to come to us first, though some do. We most often must go to them.  We must be there ready to love and care for them. We can’t ignore their existence or fail to meet their needs.

“Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well. Keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” James 2:15-17)

If we fail to be the church outside the walls, we will soon become the empty church within the walls.

As we recently visited many churches throughout Eastern Europe, it was profoundly sad to see these churches become little more than museums of time gone by. How different would it be if they were more mission and less museum?

As more and more people become disillusioned and de-churched, I fear our own churches throughout America will become these cold museums, relics of a time in history.

Jesus told his parables to connect with people. His stories used the ordinary to teach extraordinary spiritual truths. He didn’t print them up and hit them over the head with a tract. He told his stories. Made connections. Built relationships. Met needs. Then, he loved them into the God’s kingdom.

You and I and all who profess a faith in Christ, have a story to tell. It is the good news of Christ…his free gift of grace available to all. It is also the love expressed by God’s people as we go out into our respective communities on mission to love and serve.

I think that’s the challenge of these marvelous parables. God’s desire is for the world to be saved and for his kingdom to grow. Be the mustard seed. The only way for that to happen is for his people to be the leaven that causes it to rise.

———

I’ll beg your indulgence and forgiveness for this personal note.

I am a member of South Main Baptist Church. We’ve been blessed for almost seven decades with wonderful pastors and a service approach to ministry and missions. I’ve been blessed by the preaching of our new pastor, the worship through singing and praise, the great Bible teaching and the opportunities to serve.

Our people recently adopted a new mission statement. It promises that our church is in an ongoing mission to be “engaging and equipping others to experience and share God’s transforming love.”

The desire is to keep stepping outside the physical confines of the church to build relationships with our community and encouraging others to join us as we grow together in the work of Christ. Our desire is for the kingdom of God to increase as more and more people discover God’s grace and love.

Toward that end, we will be gathering at 5:30 p.m., Wednesday, May 31, at Pasadena’s Crenshaw Park Softball Fields for “First Pitch”–a little kick ball, a bunch of free hot dogs, family games and an open invitation to let us get to know you.

For the better part of four decades, South Main has made two promises to those who come to us. “We promise to love you and let you love us” as we serve our Lord together.

We’re not perfect, but we strive to be more Christ-like every day. If you’re longing to find a church where you can serve and be served, drop by for a visit. We’d love to get to know you and let you get to know us.

Hope to see you there.

Check Your Plumb Line

Background Passages: Amos 7:7-9; Isaiah 28:16-17; Matthew 5:1-12

I have a vague recollection of my Dad building some kind of shed near the barn on our farm. The extent of my help on the project was dragging a 2 x 4 from a nearby pile, handing him a few nails, and picking up the hammer he dropped.

What I do have a memory of is watching him determine that the walls were absolutely vertical by using a plumb line.

A builder might use a plumb line as an alternative to a level to find a straight vertical line. In simplest form, a plumb line consists of a piece of string with a weight called a bob at the bottom.

When you hang the line downward, the weight, with an assist from gravity, pulls the string taut and creates a straight, vertical line. Measure your wall against that line and, if it’s equal top to bottom, your wall is plumb.

We know the ancient Egyptians used plumb lines thousands of years ago. I suspect they were used by others long before the Egyptians.

The prophet Amos, a sheepherder and farmer of figs from Tekoa, would have known how to use a plumb line. It’s natural that God would use a plumb line to reveal an important truth to his prophet.

Amos told the people of Israel that they were headed in the wrong direction. He said they “sold the righteous for silver and the poor a pair of sandals.” (Amos 2:6)

God was pronouncing judgment against Israel for its continued rebelliousness as they failed to live up to his standards and had failed to repent and return to God.

Twice as God declared his intent to punish his people, Amos begged him to relent. God then spoke to Amos a third time.

This is what he showed me. The Lord was standing by a wall that had been built true to plumb, with a plumb line in his hand. And the Lord asked me, “What do you see, Amos?”

“A plumb line,” I replied.

Then the Lord replied, “I am setting a plumb line against my people Israel. I will spare them no longer. The high places of Isaac will be destroyed, and the sanctuaries of Israel will be ruined. With my sword I will rise against the house of Jeroboam.” (Amos 7:7-9)

It’s not my intent to talk about the prophecies of Amos and how God followed through on his punishment. This passage intrigued me in what it says about God’s plumb line.

“I am setting a plumb line against my people Israel.”

I think it serves as a great reminder for us to make sure we measure up to God’s standard.

Rodney Johnson, pastor of New Light Christian Church in Kansas City, called God’s plumb line the standard by which God measures our faithfulness; our righteousness.

He said, “The kinds of instruments we use to measure our life will often determine what we uncover and how we face life in general.

“When we begin to examine our plumb lines, if they are faulty – based on the world’s standard of right and wrong – our assessments of where we are will be faulty. When our assessments are off – when they are different from God’s assessments – we cannot course correct to mirror our plumb lines to God’s.”

Years ago, I built a four-foot brick wall to shield my pool equipment from the pool. I used a plumb line. It only took a few rows of bricks to see that something was off. When I looked closer, the bob at the end of the plumb line was just barely resting on the ground. I was basing the uprightness of my wall on a faulty plumb line.

I think this is what Johnson was talking about. We too often measure our righteousness, our uprightness, if you will, by a faulty standard…parental expectations, cultural morality, friendships, legal requirements. In every one of those situations, the plumb bob is touching the ground, skewing the standard. Until and unless we use God’s plumb line, we will never measure up.

So, what’s the plumb line? What’s the standard?

In his prophetic message, Isaiah gave us a hint.

So this is what the Sovereign Lord says:

“See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; one that relies on it will never be stricken with panic.” (Isaiah 28:16)

“A tested stone,” one already measured against God’s plumb line, will become the “cornerstone for a sure foundation,” level and plumb. Isaiah is talking about the coming Messiah…Jesus Christ.

You see, if we’re trying to live by God’s standard, his plumb line, then we have to be able to see it. God revealed his plumb line through Jesus and through his word. To see Jesus as he lived, to hear God’s word as he preached and taught, to be able now to listen to the voice of God through the words of the Bible…that’s the plumb line against which our lives are measured.

Isaiah continues with the illustration.

I will make justice the measuring line and righteousness the plumb line…” (Isaiah 28:17)

Righteousness can be defined as “living in right relationship with God” or living “upright and obedient lives.” Letting our words and our deeds measure up to God’s plumb or standard.

It is a theme that runs throughout the New Testament. Paul told the Ephesians, “Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave himself up for us… (Ephesians 5:1-2)

We live up to God’s standard when we imitate the life of Christ and walk in love for one another.

John’s first letter declares the same. “This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.” (I John 2:6)

The life of Jesus, his faithful obedience, his servant’s heart, make him the perfect plumb line against which we can test our own lives. We should strive to be like him.

“To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (I Peter 2:21)

Clearly Jesus is the standard for even Peter asks us to emulate Jesus as our perfect example of how to live our lives.

Jesus is not the only way God tests us against his plumb line. He uses his word to assess how well we are following his commands.

Look at 2 Timothy 3:16-17.  It says,

“All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.”

It is his word that tells us how we are to live our lives as his hands and feet in ministry.

You don’t need to read a lot of scripture to find this truth. It is there, at the turn of every page, a guide to tell us how to live, how to be measured against God’s standard and not found to be out of plumb.

It sounds so easy. Walk in Jesus’ footsteps.  Live in his image. Read the Bible. One of my favorite authors explained this in his book God’s Mirror Image:

“To live in the image of God seems to be such a deep theological concept. Yet, the promise of Jesus resonates in its simplicity. “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.”

Once we get past the wonder of Emmanuel, “God with us,” and embrace the character and teachings of Christ, we can see exactly how we are to exist as God’s reflected image in the world. We mirror the image of God by imitating the character of Christ.”

What is the character of Christ? Look no further than the Beatitudes in Matthew 5. Look at this passage and then think about the life of Christ. He modeled every character trait described in those verses in his daily walk.

Every instance of Jesus’ life and ministry on earth recorded in the Bible is a blueprint on how we should live our lives. It’s up to us to live as he lived.

Here’s my thought. God has a plumb line and his message to Israel long ago and to us today is that he uses it as his standard to measure our faithfulness, our obedience and our righteousness.

God knows his will for us, where he wants us to be and how we should get there. The standard modeled in the life of Jesus and reflected in God’s word tells him if we’re in plumb. If not, his plumb line shows us how far we must go to get back on track.

When I read that passage this week, I had to think about that plumb line in my life. I had to make sure the plumb line I was using was not something other than the life of Jesus and God’s word.

If I’m honest, my plumb bob has been dragging the ground a bit and the what I’m trying to build of my life has been a little off vertical.

Let me go back to what the Rev. Johnson wrote. “When we begin to examine our plumb lines, if they are faulty – based on the world’s standard of right and wrong – our assessments of where we are will be faulty. When our assessments are off – when they are different from God’s assessments – we cannot course correct to mirror our plumb lines to God’s.”

I discovered I need a course correction. I need to make sure God’s plumb line is unobstructed, free to show me where I don’t measure up to his standard. In those areas of my life where I am off, I need to get back into proper alignment with his will and way for my life. That’s my commitment this week.

How about you? When’s the last time you checked the plumb line in your life? How well do you measure up to God’s standard?

It feels like a question all of us should ask every day.

The Proper Response to Easter

Background Passages: Philippians 3:9-10; Ephesians 1:19-20; Ephesians 3:20; John 15:5,7

A week after we celebrated Easter with friends and family at our home church, we found ourselves experiencing Easter again while on vacation in eastern Europe. The majority of folks in that part of the world are Eastern Orthodox Christians who use the Julian calendar on which Easter falls one week later than it does in the States.

It was interesting to see and participate in some of their Eastern traditions. One local guide shared with us that they decorate eggs with their children just as we do. When we asked if they hide their eggs for the children to find, she gave us a look of shock and asked, “Why would you do that?” I guess it sounded mean-spirited to her.

Another Croatian family invited us to participate in their traditional “egg war.” To play this game you each hold an egg and tap the two eggs end to end. Usually, one egg will break and the other will not. The one whose egg does not break continues to test the egg against other members of the family. If yours is the last egg unbroken you are assured of one year of good luck. I lost quickly only to find out that our host was using a wooden egg.

The people we visited with indicated they would be attending church at midnight on Easter Eve and then again early Easter morning. The rest of the day would be spent with family. Our guide told us the churches would be quite full Easter Sunday, but she said, once Easter is over very few people would attend church again until Easter rolls around again.

Like those churches in eastern Europe, Easter is the most well-attended Sunday of the year in most American churches. And like those European churches, far too many American worshippers will not return to church until the following Easter holiday.

It is a sad reality of faith that far too many people acknowledge the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ but find too little time to understand what it means to live as though it mattered.

So, the question every believer must answer is what is my proper response to Easter? What is my proper response to the resurrection?

The Bible records the reactions of the individuals who encountered the resurrection. Depending on the person, the response was disbelief, fear, confusion, paralysis, and at some point, joy and celebration. For the person committed to Christ, the resurrection must be a call to action.

In his letter to the Philippian church, Paul told them that everything he had gained in life up to that point was “garbage” when compared to what he had gained in Christ. He also knew he had not received everything that Christ could offer. His life as a follower of Christ continued to be shaped and molded by the work of Christ in him. He recognized he still had much to learn so he turned to the source of all knowledge.

“I want to know Christ–yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in death, and so, somehow attaining the resurrection of the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” (Philippians 3:10-11)

It is an interesting turn of phrase in this verse that I’ve not given a great of thought to prior to the past few days. “…to know the power of his resurrection…” As a believer in Christ, we accept by faith that the resurrection Jesus’ experienced will be ours someday. That the promise of eternal life is the hope of all who believe.

The power of the resurrection is a future reality for every Christian, but I don’t think that was what Paul was thinking here. Before we can explore what he meant by the phrase, though, Paul said the surest way to avoid having an Easter-only faith is to harbor a deep desire to know the resurrected Lord. Not simply to acknowledge who he is, but to know him personally and intimately.

You hear the longing in his note to the Philippians. “I want to know Christ.” Paul’s idea of knowing Christ was to connect with him, to interact with him on a personal level. It was his passion. Absent the opportunity to walk with Jesus as his disciples did, Paul longed to see into the heart of Jesus. To understand how he could love so deeply, care so tenderly and live so faithfully. Paul earnestly and passionately wanted to have an intimate relationship with Jesus.

Any good relationship takes time spent with the one to whom we wish to connect. To get to know Jesus, takes that faith commitment as a starting point and then spends time learning the things he taught, figuring out how to apply what he taught to our lives. It speaks to the idea of following so closely in his footsteps that we become like him in the way we think, behave and the way we minister and relate to others.

To know Christ is the heartfelt goal toward which we ought to set our own lives, knowing that he is the perfect example of kindness, justice and righteousness. God said as much to Jeremiah,

“Let not the wise boast of their wisdom, or the strong boast of their strength or the rich boast of their riches but let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight.” (Jeremiah 9:23-24)

So, our first response to the resurrection is to do what it takes to know God, to know Christ. The second part of it is to know the power of his resurrection. As I said earlier, it seems to me that Paul uses that phrase not to suggest an eternal answer, but to suggest a “here and now” experience. Paul talks about knowing the power of Jesus’ resurrection…as if it is a power and strength available to us if we can just find a way to plug into it.

I’m pretty sure we won’t find a way to connect to the power of the resurrection dressed in our Sunday best once a year on Easter.

Paul’s realization is my own. None of us has exhausted the possibilities of what God is willing to do in and through us when we plug into the power of the resurrection of Christ. Take a look at another letter Paul wrote in which he lays claim to that promise.

His opening prayer for the church in Ephesus was for enlightened hearts that see and understand the hope to which they were called and the inheritance they would receive as God’s children. He defined the hope and inheritance as…

“…the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe…that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead.: (Ephesians 1:19-20)

The power of the resurrection.

Paul prayed that the Ephesian Christians would come to understand and tap into the unfathomably awesome power stored up for those who believe in Jesus Christ as Lord…the same power that God used to raise Jesus from the dead.

With the power of God Almighty already at work within us, we can do all things, anything, everything, he desires us to do. Just look at what he says just a little later in Ephesians.

“God is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20)

Paul is telling us we most often dream too small. Limit what we think we can do. Never really knowing what we might accomplish for God if we just plugged into the source of our strength and power or fully committed to the work he puts in front of us.

Famed 19th century theologian Charles Spurgeon called the act of raising Jesus from the tomb “as great a work as creation itself.” Jesus entered the tomb a captive of death. By the power of God, he exited the tomb as a conqueror.

Spurgeon said Paul’s desire to know the power of the resurrection was less about the power displayed in the resurrection as it was about the power that derives from it. That’s the power that Paul wanted to tap into. The power available to us today.

The power that allows us to do more than we dream we could is the power of God that he worked through Christ when he raised him from the dead. The power that allowed Jesus to conquer death is the same power available to equip us to do “far more abundantly than all we ask or think.” It is the power that enables us to be used by God to accomplish his will and purpose in and through us.

If you’re wondering how to tap into the power of the resurrection, Jesus explained it clearly to his disciples.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing…If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” (John 15:5,7)

It is the connection to the vine that enables the branch to bear fruit. The branch gains its strength through its connection to the vine, its source of growth and power. The power of the resurrection is available to those who attach themselves to the vine, to Christ, drawing our growth and strength through him.

What is our proper response to Easter? What is our proper response to the resurrection?

First, we must know Christ. Not just acknowledging his presence and who he is but getting to know him personally and intimately. Striving to become more like him every day. God’s word reveals Christ in every way that matters. Hearing God’s word proclaimed every week, studying his word regularly and deeply, provides insight we need to his character and his way. Spending time with him in conversation about our hopes, our fears, our joy and our sorrow, provides that intimate connection to our Creator and Lord.

Second, we must tap into the power of his resurrection. When you read that original passage, Paul isn’t asking for more power. He’s asking for the power already available to him. We have all this power at our fingertips, but we keep acting as if we are too weak…as if we are still slaved to our past. It’s probably the biggest reason we go to church only on Easter Sunday. We have not plugged into the power at our fingertips.

The power of the resurrection…our response to the resurrection… ought to be directed more outwardly. Christianity is not just about forgiveness and overcoming sin. The Christian faith is not just an eternal solution to our sin problem. God saved us for a reason, a purpose. We are to be his agents in the world…his voice, his hands, his feet. And he gives us the power to make it so.

Through our knowing God and making that intimate connection with him, we tap into the power to not only defeat sin and gain everlasting victory over death, but we get to share in his message of love and grace to the world, to minister to the hurting and disconnected…not in our own power, but the power of the resurrected Lord.

I think that’s the idea Paul is leading us to understand. You’ll never find it in an Easter-only world. Living in the middle of all of it all…that’s the proper response to Easter.

Pushing the Right Buttons

Hebrews 10:22-25; I Corinthians 12: 12-26

My son Andrew has always been pretty good at pushing buttons. He had a way, particularly as a toddler, of getting under his older brother’s skin.

After one particularly troublesome morning where two-year-old Andrew repeatedly pestered four-year-old Adam, we heard a muffled scream from the playroom. Andrew came around the corner crying. He declared with righteous indignation through incredulous tears, “Adam hit me back.” It was the “hit me back” part of that statement that had Robin and I fighting back the laughter. Adam had finally had enough, and our toddler had implicated himself in his own words.

The episode didn’t cure him of being that annoying little brother at times. In the honesty of days gone by, they both were pretty good about stirring each other up, one action invariably leading to retaliation until they both were in trouble.

I guess all little brothers or little sisters have that tendency. I was a middle child. I’d like to think I was different, but I suspect my older brother would disagree.

The truth is the selfishness that is natural for a young child, tends to stay with us as adults. We’re all pretty good about pushing buttons when we’re feeling neglected, hurt or out of sorts.

The writer of Hebrews seemed to recognize that most of us are button pushers. He offered some affirming words on the subject.

The writer of Hebrews is unknown. For lack of any other name and in an effort to keep my word count low, rather than always referring to the writer of Hebrews, I’ll call him Syntakti. It means author in Greek.

Whomever Syntakti is, he is one who speaks with the authority of one who knows and understands the teachings of Jesus. The theology of his message throughout Hebrews lines up well with everything that Jesus and his disciples taught. His practical application rivals that of Paul.

One of the main theological themes of Hebrews is that Jesus is greater…the greater priest than Israel’s high priest and the greater sacrifice than any gift man might present as an atonement offering.

Shortly after making his case that Jesus is the greater priest and sacrifice, Syntaki states there is no longer a need for sacrifices offered under the law because of the price Jesus paid in blood upon the cross. Since the final sacrifice has been made and the Jesus now stands as the “great priest over the house of God” (Hebrews 10:21), the author, Syntaki, offers instruction on how to practically persevere in the faith. One of the keys, he says, is to “push somebody’s buttons” (my words, not his)

Let’s read what he says.

“Let us draw near to God with a pure heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us with a guilty conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we possess, for he who promised is faithful.

“And, let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:22-25)

Did you see it in verse 25? “Spur one another on…” Another translation says we should “Stimulate one another to love…” The author tells us to figure out how we can poke, prod and push one another toward love and good deeds. To push each other’s buttons so we learn to love each other and do the good work to which we have been called.

Our present context for “pushing buttons” is a negative one, falling more in line with the annoying little brother. We push until it triggers the explosive reaction we hoped to provoke. Syntakti encourages us to push the right buttons that spur one another or stimulate one another to do the things our great priest desires us to do.

If you’re anything like me, you don’t like to be pushed or prodded to do anything…even if it’s good for me or beneficial in some way. When someone pushes my buttons…even the good buttons…I tend to push back and do nothing or worse, do the exact opposite. The author shows us how to push in the right way.

Syntakti says before we push anyone’s buttons we must “draw near to God” with a pure heart and the full assurance that faith brings. It’s an idea that speaks to our confidence and trust in the greatness and “graceness” of our Father in heaven. Because we have in Jesus direct access to the Father, because we are beneficiaries of his amazing grace, we can go directly to him with our joys, concerns, sorrows and fears in absolute confidence and trust. We have that privilege because what we find in his word and what we see in his character is true. He is the same “yesterday, today and tomorrow.” Our life experiences prove it time and time again.

Drawing near to God speaks to our personal interaction with him. While we certainly draw near to him in corporate worship, we must also find intimacy with God through our private time with him. Bible study. Prayer. Listening. Walking with him every day. Paying attention to the Spirit’s leading. Such commitment cannot be a one-time thing.

The author also tells us to “hold unswervingly to the hope we possess” in Christ. Never let go of the hope we have in Christ. Why? Because he has proven himself faithful time and time again. Keep trusting in his faithfulness. Keeping a tight grip on the promises he has kept to us. His word reminds us of his constant, undivided love.

Holding without fail to our hope presents the idea of extreme focus on the things of God to the exclusion of the ways of the world. Unwavering trust when things are going well, knowing he will never ignore us. Unwavering trust in the most difficult times of life, knowing that he will never abandon us.

So, before we can push each other to do what God wants us to do, we have to have our hearts and mind in the right place. Only then can we “consider how to spur one another toward love and good deeds.” Without that foundation of faith governing our words and actions, we will almost invariably push the wrong buttons. At the very least, it will come across as a holier-than-thou attitude.

The word “consider” used in this passage means to “think carefully about…” “To figure things out…” “To be intentional” in thinking about new ways to encourage each other to live as we should. We are to light a fire under each other and push the buttons that will trigger the love within us and move toward doing good.

Syntakti knew his audience well. In the hindsight provided by the Spirit, I think he knew us pretty well, too.

Life was not easy for those first century readers. In many ways, it is no easier for us to live for Christ in our world today. The hardships they faced tempted them to drift away from the fellowship of believers. As the world discounts so much of what we hold dear, are we not also tempted to drift away?

Since the pandemic, the exodus from the church has had staggering implications on church attendance and ministry. Like those first century Christians, it seems we find it safer and easier to worship in isolation or not at all.

The author of Hebrews knows the danger of separating ourselves from the body of believers. He wants us to spur each other to love one another and to do the good work and ministry of the church. We can’t push the right buttons if we’re isolated at home. We can only encourage one another if we meet regularly together. If we join in corporate worship. If stand by each other in ministry.

Look again at verse 25.

“And, let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another.”

Here’s what I’ve found to be true in my personal experience. My best days of worship happen when someone pushes my buttons. The congregational and choral music inspires. The preaching challenges. The teaching makes me think. Someone uses the gifts God gave them to encourage me to keep living for Christ. To spur me on to love others more deeply. To push me to keep serving him. To prod me to keep meeting the needs of others.

I need that encouragement in my life as I suspect you do. I need them to push my buttons. It’s true that one can practice faith in isolation, but others miss out on your testimony and witness. If you are not “meeting together,” you’re depriving others of the gifts you bring to the table. You’re depriving them of the blessings you have to offer. If I’m not present, I’m depriving you of the blessings I have to offer.

In I Corinthian’s 12, Paul plants his tongue in his cheek and tells us how much we need each other.

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a foot, I don’t belong to the body,” it would not be a reason to not belong to the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?…Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is part of it. ” (I Corinthians 12:15-17, 27)

The point of that humorous illustration is that God gifts us in unique ways to be a part of the body of believers. The kingdom of God only flourishes when every part of that body is present and working together.

If you’re an ear, I need you to be a great ear. If you’re a foot, put your best foot forward. By being who God called you to be, I am encouraged to use my God-given gifts in service to God and others. I am encouraged to love and do good deeds. And, maybe, just maybe, as I do those things, I am an encouragement to you.

My boys pushed a lot of buttons in their childhood and, especially during their teenage years. Even in those times, we knew they cared for each other. They did enjoy pushing those buttons, though.

However, in the years since, they’ve pushed the right buttons for each other. The deep love and friendship they have for one another stands in remarkable juxtaposition to the arguments of youth. They have been there for each other in some incredibly difficult times over and over again, encouraging one another, much to the delight of their parents.

I am grateful for all the people God placed in my life to push all the right buttons in me. You have spurred me to love more deeply and serve more intentionally.

Let me encourage you to draw nearer to God. To hold unswervingly to the hope in Christ that you possess. Then, let’s consider together ways that we can together push each other’s buttons so we can love with the love of Christ and do the good work he has called us to do.

Seems to be a good prayer for today.

Amen!