Category: Encouragement

Distinctive Living

Background Passages: Matthew 5:13-16, Romans 12:2, Galatians 5:22-23

It’s still one of the most impressive devotionals I ever heard. Standing before the deacons at our regular monthly meeting, Dan Cain began speaking, without reading, without notes. Words he not only memorized but internalized.

“Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him and he began to teach them…” (Matthew 5:1)

What followed was beautiful recitation of the Sermon on the Mount as recorded in Matthew. Word for word. As if we were sitting on the hillside, hearing our Lord speak.

That’s the way to read and hear scripture. Not in the dull monotone of the mind, without life or feeling, but as if you were present in the moment, hearing the words…just as the disciples heard them. That’s when the words jump off the page with meaning that changes everything.

I read that passage of scripture again this week. When I did, I heard those words in the voice of Jesus…who suddenly sounded remarkably similar to Dan Cain’s Texas twang.

Let’s take a look at one thought from Jesus’ greatest sermon. I find it as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago.

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During the first year of his ministry, Jesus moved from village to village in Galilee teaching in the synagogues and preaching wherever he found an audience to listen. We don’t know a lot about the content of those early teachings except Jesus seemed to pick up where John the Baptist left off. The gospel writer tells us in Matthew 4:17…

“From that time on, Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

At some point in this time frame, he called his first disciples, taking them with him as he taught and healed. So popular were his teachings and so miraculous his healing that large crowds began to follow wherever he went. The people came, not just from Galilee, but from Jerusalem, Judea and the land east of the Jordan River to hear his voice.

At one point, Luke tells us that Jesus drew criticism from the Pharisees for healing a man with a deformed hand. After that rather heated debate, Jesus left Capernaum and went up the hillside to pray. The following morning as he and his closest disciples walked back toward the town, they encountered a large crowd eager to hear his message. Desperate to be healed.

Jesus found a spot on the hill and began to preach.

Taken as a whole, the Sermon on the Mount is the nearest thing to a manifesto that Jesus ever shared. He described what he wanted his followers to be and do. It is an explanation of kingdom living at its best. Writer John Stott said the teachings within this sermon “describe what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God.

“And what do they look like? Different! Jesus emphasized that his true followers, the citizens of God’s kingdom, were to be entirely different from others.”

The Sermon on the Mount then is a call to be distinctive, drawing a constant contrast between the life lived by those of the Word and the life lived by those of the world. Jesus simply said,

“…do not be like them…” (Matthew 6:8)

You hear a similar word of caution from God to the Israelites in Leviticus 18:3 as he spoke about the pagan practices of the Egyptians and the Canaanites.

“You must not do as they do.”

An echo of the idea reverberated in Paul’s admonition to the church in Rome.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” (Romans 12:2)

God calls us to live differently than those who do not know him. To relate to one another differently than those who don’t know him. To testify by the way we live to the transformative power of a life committed to Christ.

A pastor said recently that God’s church once existed as the heart and soul of every community. The church and its people defined the culture of the community. The pastor lamented that God’s church today no longer serves as the driver of our culture. Instead, it surrendered its responsibility as the conscience of the community and found itself pushed to the periphery. Its influence marginal at best.

Decades ago, someone once asked Methodist missionary and author E. Stanley Jones to name the biggest problem of the church. His answer short and to the point. “Irrelevance,” he said. “Three-fourths of the opposition to the church stems from disappointment. We promise to make men different, but the promise goes largely unfulfilled.”

Some 50 years later, the pandemic dealt another blow to the church’s relevance. Before we blame the church as an institution, we need to remember that we are the church. You and I, as individuals, are the church. We must ask ourselves the tough question. Is the church less relevant because its people are no longer different enough from the world around us? I suspect there is more truth to that than any of us would care to admit.

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount speaks to kingdom living. About living the life God calls us to live. Jesus expects us to have a profound influence on the culture of the world. Yet, we have become less different, less distinctive.

Jesus spoke words to us that still echo off the waters of the Sea of Galilee. These words tell us what we ought to be.

“You are the salt of the earth! But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:13-16)

Jesus finds truth in the simplicity of ordinary living. He offers no cryptic parable that demands explanation. If you’re sitting with Jesus on the hillside in the first century, you get it. It’s just as clear today.

Salt flavors and preserves. So, what you’re saying Jesus is that we must live in such a way that we don’t leave a bitter taste in someone’s mouth. We are to preserve in our culture that which is holy and sacred and pure and right so that it still sustains those who will partake of it. When we lose our saltiness, our testimony and witness fade. Our lifestyle begins to look the same as our unchurched neighbors. Our influence in the community gets trampled underfoot and lost to society.

If you’re sitting with Jesus on the hillside in the first century, you get it. Another easily understood illustration that made as much sense to a Galilean as it does to a Texan. Light serves as a beacon to the lost, drawing them to safety. Light makes clear the path of righteous living that seeks to serve rather than condemn.

To be salt and light is the calling, but they are not the purpose. Allow me to paraphrase:

“Let your salt flavor all of life with the sweet taste of God’s love and your light illuminate his teachings…so that…they, the world beyond the walls of the church, will see the difference in the way you live and embrace and exalt the God of salvation who is our Father in heaven.”

That’s a huge “so that.” We live the life God calls us to live every day, not so we can stand on the street corner and express openly our gratitude that we are “not like other men.” A holier than thou attitude that drives a wedge between the church and those we are called to serve.

We live the life God called us to live so what we say and do points the lost to Jesus. For when we flavor life with the sweet taste of his love and the clear light of his goodness and grace…when we are truly different…all humanity will be drawn to him.

What does that look like?

Being salt and light is the byproduct of kingdom living. Paul described it to the Galatian church.

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

Such traits are rare and precious commodities in our world today. When Christians decide to be salt and light, to demonstrate love, peace, patience…the world feels our presence. When we demonstration kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, the world pays closer attention to what we say and do. That distinctiveness makes a difference. The church, our faith, becomes relevant again.

How do we get there?

Those glow-in-the-dark toys only glow in the dark when they are held next to the light for an extended period. We get to the point of distinctiveness when we stay close to the Light of the World. Spending time in his word and having those deep, rich, prayerful conversations with the one who takes joy in hearing from us. We get there by making a conscious effort to be different.

Our faith cannot be timid nor secret. We cannot hide our light beneath a bowl or bushel. The light must shine. Let us work to make our faith both vocal and visible. Only then will the church find its place again in the center of the community.

God calls us to influence the world. Imagine what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God led by those who are both salt and light. It’s time to make a difference. That’s what being salt and light is all about.

Be Still and Know

Background Passages: Psalm 46:1-10; 2 Corinthians 12:9; Luke 40:35-41

You hear it all the time when a rookie quarterback is starting his first game. The defense will mix up their coverages, blitz from different angles and players, rush, drop back in coverage. They will do anything to confuse the unfortunate rookie.

At some point the announcer, armed with dozens of sports cliches, will invariably say that the game is moving too fast for the quarterback.

The reason it is a cliché is that it’s true. Time, familiarity with the playbook and game experience will make things easier. It will eventually slow the game down.

There sure have been times in my life when I felt like a rookie quarterback. It is a frenetic and noisy world. No day passes without strident debates and diatribes over issues critical to our culture and country. We see natural disasters taking their toll on our safety and security. When the news cycle hits, I find myself covering my eyes, ears and mouth like the proverbial monkey, hoping to see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil. The game moves too fast.

It is not a lot different in our personal lives. Even when trying to do what we feel God needs us to do, we find ourselves being pulled in a thousand different directions. It feels like the more we try to live a life of service to God, the more obstacles get thrown in our path. The game moves too fast.

It has been my privilege to serve as a member of our church’s Pastor Search Team charged to find a new pastor for the first time in 40 years. As we met as a team last week, we talked about how many things have come up in our lives as individuals that pull us from the task at hand. We talked about how easy it would be to feel overwhelmed and over our heads were God not a calming presence. The game moves too fast.

Amid the noise I hear in the world and in our lives, I also hear a quieter word from scripture.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

There will come a day when God will quiet the noise of the world, but until then he reminds us to “be still.”

Isaiah tells us “in repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength.”

I don’t think that’s the exact message of the Psalmist. We are not to close our eyes, ears and mouth to the clamor and discord. To be still is not a call to silence. It is a reminder that we will find God in the noise.

We find this verse embedded in a section that speaks to the power and security of God. God smothers our fear, declares the psalmist, because he is our strength and fortress in times of constant trouble.

“Be still.”

I’m certainly no Hebrew scholar, but the commentaries tell me not to interpret the word as “silence.” To be quiet or reverential in God’s presence. While there is always a place for quiet reflection of the nature and presence of God, the Hebrew word speaks more to “cease,” “to slacken” to “stop the frantic activity.”

I find that to be a good word for me. When I am pressed and feeling overwhelmed, I always tend to try to do more. To work harder to try and dig out from under my circumstance.

I think of the serene image of the duck on the pond who seems to swim effortlessly but is paddling furiously under water. That’s how I feel sometimes.

Be still is God’s great reminder to quit fighting battles I can’t win on my own. Being still means to chill out enough so you can see God at work and his “ever-present help in trouble.” (vs. 1)

Think of it another way. To be still is to surrender…surrender control of all that is going on in your world to the Almighty. We must lay down our weapons, drop our shields, give up our desire to lead and surrender to the will of the one who is already victorious. On a personal level, it means giving up my belief that I know better or that I can work my way through anything in my own power or force of will.

Being still, you see, is not a passive act where we sit back and do nothing. Rather, to be still we must stop what we’re doing. Back off. Yield control. Surrender. Give up all efforts at personal control and self-preservation.

Lest you feel that makes you feel weak and less of a Christian, remember that Paul rejoiced in his weakness.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Therein lies the reason to surrender our control. “Be still and know that I am God.”

The word “know” suggests we discover by sight. Stopping our well-intentioned efforts allows us to see God at work in the world and in our lives. If we’re so focused on doing things on our own, we’ll miss God’s work. Worse, we may well mistake his results for our own, taking credit where no credit is due.

When we stop all our frantic activity, we suddenly rediscover God is God. We come to know him as our refuge. Our strength. Our help. Our protector. Our comfort. Our warrior. Our exalted one.

The disciples were sailing from one side of the Sea of Galilee to the other when a strong storm interrupted their travel. Weary from a long day’s work, Jesus rested in the stern of the boat. The waves grew higher and the disciples struggled to keep the boat afloat. I suspect it was one of the non-fishermen who crawled to the back of the boat to wake Jesus up.

“Don’t you care if we drown?”

Jesus woke up. Rubbed his eyes. Stood up in the boat and commanded the wind.

“Quiet. Be still.”

The same basic word shared by the psalmist. Cease your frantic efforts.

As the gale turned to gust and to a gentle breeze, Jesus turned to his disciples. “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

Surrendering control to God is the ultimate act of faith. It replaces fear with trust.

In the stillness of that hour, the disciples marveled. “Who is this that even the wind and waves obey him?” It is as if Jesus was saying, “Be still and know that I am God.”

The world is chaotic enough without our feeble efforts adding to it. Our circumstances always rest in the hands of God and when we yield our will to his, he will calm the raging soul within us.

“Do not be anxious about anything (stop trying so hard), but in every situation (when life gets frantic), by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God (our ability to be quit fighting it), which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 with the Lewis translation thrown in)

“Be still and know that I am God.”

We’re not promised a world without chaos. In fact, it sure seems to be getting noisier. The good news of the gospel is that we don’t have to calm the storm around us. When we quit fighting against the current and surrender our lives without reservation to God, when we are still, we see God for who he is.

It’s funny, isn’t it? When I quit fighting it, the game slows down. When I cease doing things in my own ability, the game slows down. When I surrender my will to God’s will, the game slows down. Only then, can I see and know that God is God.

I say it again if only to remind me of its magnificent truth.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Drink This Cup

Background Passages: Matthew 20:20-23, Ezekiel 23:33, Psalm 116:13, Psalm 23:5-6

“Drink this cup…”

It was a phrase that tickled my ear several weeks ago during our last celebration of the Lord’s Supper. I wasn’t sure why. I had heard it for years. Understood it, I thought, in it’s context. Yet, it kept whispering to me. Maybe it’s time to listen.

The phrase is not unique to scripture. In an ancient Hebrew wedding tradition, a young man poured wine into his cup and invited the woman to drink from his cup. It was her choice. If she drank from the cup, she accepted the betrothal. It was a covenant act. A promise. The act declared that the woman agreed to experience his life in full…the good as well as the bad.

As a result of this old tradition, the cup came to represent a way of life…one that could be a blessing or a curse. The Old Testament prophets used the phrase to condemn Israel’s life apart from the covenant relationship with God. Ezekiel says that Jerusalem drinks from the “cup of ruin and desolation.” (Ezekiel 23:33).

The Psalmist writes to celebrate the manifold gifts of God. “I will take up the cup of salvation…” (Psalm 116:13), pointing toward the promise of eternal life and reward in God’s kingdom.

Jesus used the phrase in a slightly different way to declare the commitment required to do the will of God, regardless of where that life might lead.

My study this week found me reading a passage that illustrated the trouble the disciples had in grasping the mission and purpose of Christ. This common, but misplaced, image of the promised Messiah had them thinking in political terms rather than spiritual terms…a not uncommon issue today when Christians try to cram Jesus’ teachings into a liberal or conservative bucket. But…I digress.

As the passage reads, Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem and the cross. His disciples still had much to understand. The master teacher shared a parable about workers in a vineyard and spoke to them about accountability to the call of God. As they neared the city, he told them directly for the third time about his impending death and resurrection.

The journey toward Jerusalem and all it entailed painted a picture they either chose to ignore completely or opted to interpret with less troubling undertones.

Later, as Jesus and his entourage rested for the evening, Jesus looked up from the tree he was leaning against and saw James and John walking a step behind their mother who was making a beeline straight to Jesus.

She stood for a moment in front of Jesus suddenly less confident in her purpose. Kneeling at his feet, she struggled to find the words she practiced over and over again during their walk that day.

Jesus undoubtedly engaged her in casual conversation, helping her relax. With a lull in the pleasantries, Jesus cocked his head to the left, smiled, and said,

“What is it you want?”

She looked at her sons sitting beside her, hesitated for a moment, the gravity of her request hitting a little harder than she expected.

“Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at the right and the other at your left in your kingdom.”

Nothing surprised Jesus. He knew this was coming, but I suspect, in the deep recess of his heart, he was begging her not to go there. She and her sons missed the point.

Jesus’ eyes bore into the souls of James and John, causing them to shrink back a bit. The sounds of the night seemed to fade into the distance. He shook his head in quiet contemplation.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. Can you drink the cup I am to drink?”

The disciples sat up a little straighter, gaining strength one from the other. They looked back at Jesus.

“We can,” expressing a confidence they probably didn’t completely feel.

I know Jesus saw potential in them they could not see in themselves. He knew the life they were capable of living even when they didn’t yet understand its full implications. I wonder if this is where that fleeting moment of frustration at their lack of understanding turned into a gentler word of compassion and encouragement.

“You will indeed drink from my cup…”

Jesus told them that deciding a place of power and honor was not his decision to make nor their question to ask. Embracing the cup…living the call of Christ…was all that mattered. I always saw it as a rebuke for their misunderstand, focusing on the last part of that passage. Maybe it was instead a word of Godly insight. “You will indeed drink my cup.” It was as if Jesus was telling them, “Give it time. You will indeed answer the call.”

This is the concept my mind latched onto this week. “You will drink from my cup…”

Think with me.

You see, later in the week, Jesus and his disciples ate a meal together in the upper room the night before Jesus was crucified. Jesus broke bread, asking them to always remember him and what he was about to do. It’s possible that when he picked up the cup, he looked directly at James and John with that previous conversation in mind.

“Then, he took the cup and after he had given thanks, he gave it to them saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you…” (Matthew 26:27)

It wasn’t an unfamiliar phrase. Certainly, James and John and all the other disciples had been to a wedding or two in their lives. Some of them most certainly had offered their cup to their betrothed, knowing fully what the cup symbolized. A life committed. A promise made.

Their understanding of what it meant to embrace the life of Christ was grounded in a false Messianic narrative of earthly independence from the Roman occupation. A political rather than spiritual concept. To take the cup in their mind was to accept that to the victor go the spoils.

Jesus is drawing a different picture. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You will drink from my cup”…and then in the upper room, it’s no longer a prediction nor an invitation, it is a command…an encouragement…a hope, “Drink from it, all of you.”

For a long, long time, I thought Jesus was telling them to prepare for the same persecution and death that he faced. They certainly faced the persecution and most of them were martyred for their faithfulness. But, to limit the meaning to that aspect of their lives is the miss the point again, I think.

Jesus commanded his disciples…commands us…to drink of his cup. It’s not the wine within or the grape juice. It’s the cup that is important. The liquid represents the blood of Christ, shed for forgiveness of our sins. It’s worth remembering…as often as we do it. Drinking his cup adds a who new concept

Just as the ancient Hebrew wife accepted the cup to say to her future husband, “Where you go, I will go…” “Whatever is your lot is my lot…” “For better or worse…” Jesus is commanding his disciples to embrace the servant and sacrificial life of Christ as their own, the bad with the good. To live a Christ-like life, wholly and completely devoted to God.

Living that life may lead to suffering. When we accept the cup, the life of Christ, we profess an understanding that life within his plan for our lives will almost certainly contain hardship. Drinking from his cup means we willingly walk the lonely path he walked knowing it will be difficult at times.

Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, asked God to take the cup from him, knowing the consequences of his obedience. When God could not release him from the task, Jesus rested in the will of his father. His cup then speaks to our willingness to endure faithfully whatever twists and turns his will and way lays in front of us.

Drinking his cup is not all sacrifice and endurance. There is also glory in the drinking. Paul tells the Roman church that this life is “not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18) This means that any struggle we encounter while living a Christ-like life ends in victory and glory.

As we drink of the master’s cup, we should understand it as a cup of privilege and a cup of blessing, thanksgiving and praise. a life lived for Christ recognizes the unmerited blessings granted to us each day. His is a cup of grace. His is a cup of thanksgiving. Each day we are allowed to drink of his cup should be a day of gratitude.

The benefit of drinking from his cup is clear. The blessings grow over time. More plentiful. More deeply felt. The Psalmist expressed it far better than i ever could.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23:5-6)

Drinking the cup of Christ means to live a life wholly committed to him. Every day in every way.

Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, wrote in his diary about the feeling in that Philadelphia courtroom when 56 men signed that treasured document. It was a day in which they all drank from the cup of freedom.

“Do you recollect the pensive and awful silence which pervaded the House when we were called up, one after another, to the table of the President of Congress to subscribe to what was believed by many at the time to be our death warrants?”

Their signatures on the Declaration meant certain death at the hands of the British to all who put pen to paper. They signed without knowing how it all would end.

We don’t know what the future holds, but I can promise you this. Jesus commands each of us who put our faith and trust in him to “drink his cup.” To live the life of sacrifice and service that he lived. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. His cup brings with it God’s gift of wisdom, courage, boldness and humility to equip us for the work ahead. The hardships are balanced by his abundant blessing and grace.

It is a cup worth drinking. A cup that will make a difference in our world.

I don’t know about you, but my cup runs over.

 

In God We Trust

Background Passages: Mark 12:13-17; Romans 7:18-21; Isaiah 26:4; Matthew 6:25-26, John 14:1, John 8:41-42 and Proverbs 3:5-6

I will never look at a penny the same way.

A wealthy businessman walked briskly down the street with his young apprentice a step behind, trying hard to keep up. The businessman stopped suddenly, looking down at his feet. All she saw that could have attracted the man’s attention were three nasty cigarette butts and a tarnished penny.

The businessman smiled as he bent down to pick up the coin. He turned the coin in his hand and put it in his pocket without a word, resuming his purposeful stride.

Sitting in the meeting, the apprentice’s mind kept wandering back to the penny. The man had everything…a highly successful business, a beautiful mansion on the lake, cars that cost more than the apprentice’s house and a beautiful, devoted family. Why would such a man bother to pick up a dirty penny?

The two finished their meeting and went to lunch at an exclusive restaurant. Throughout the meal, the scene on the street continue to nag at the young woman. Her curiosity finally got the better of her. She told the man about a coin collection she had as a little girl, wondering if the penny her boss found on the street had some value.

The businessman smiled as he dug the coin from his pocket and wiped the grime from its surface with his linen napkin. He placed the coin in the young woman’s hand.

“Look at it,” he said. “Read what it says.”

She read the words, “United States of America.”

“Go on,” said the businessman.

“One cent,” she answered.

“And?

“In God We Trust,” read the young woman.

The businessman took the penny and placed it again in his pocket. “I see that inscription every time I find a coin. It’s written on every single coin in our currency, but we rarely notice it. When I find a coin, I figure God dropped the message at my feet for a purpose…a reminder to trust him. Who am I to pass that up?

He continued, “I use that moment to pray. Stopping for a second to make sure my trust is truly in God at that moment. For that moment, it’s value is more than gold. Lucky for me, sidewalk pennies are plentiful.”

What a powerful reminder! What a beautiful object lesson reminding me of the need to trust the Creator of all things with every aspect of my life!

The story of the penny-finding businessman reminded me of one of those incidents where the Pharisees tried again to trap Jesus in a comment they could use to implicate and discredit him. They asked him a question about paying taxes to Rome which they felt was guaranteed to get him in trouble with either the Jewish people or the Roman authorities.

“But Jesus knew their hypocrisy. ‘Why are you trying to trap me? Bring me a denarius and let me look at it.’ They brought the coin to him and he asked them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?’

“‘Caesar’s,’ they replied.”

(Can’t you see Jesus flipping the coin back into their hands before he answered.)

“Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s. Give to God what is God.” (Mark 12:13-17)

Jesus tells them that life in society carries a lot of responsibilities to the world around us. In the end, though, God desires what is due him…our trust.

As Shakespeare said, “Ahhh, there’s the rub!”

Giving ourselves completely over to God in trust isn’t easy. Our own experiences tell us that we are less than trustworthy. Paul knew it.

“For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil that I do not want is what I keep doing. If I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who does it, but sin that dwells in me.” (Romans 7:18-20)

Then, he shares Murphy’s Law of sin.

“So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.” (Romans 7:21)

Isn’t that the truth? We want to trust God. We want to be obedient, but the temptation to go it alone is always lurking in the shadow. Here is the truth of the Bible, though. God is trustworthy even if we are not. Isaiah called him a rock. Immovable and eternal.

“Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.” (Isaiah 26:4)

Jesus issued a challenge to his disciples to quit worrying about life and trust in God’s unfailing love.

“Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26)

Later as they struggled with their understanding of his impending sacrifice on the cross, he encouraged them.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me.” (John 14:1)

That’s all well and good, but how do we do that?

Once we trust enough to accept the salvation that comes from our belief in Jesus Christ, we must make the conscious decision to trust him enough to turn our lives over to him completely. Making him Lord, or boss, of our lives. We must put our full confidence in him and his word.

He said, “…If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” John 8:31-32

To abide in his word is to live it, breathe it, every day. To make his word real in the way we live. As a result, the more we put our trust in him, the more we will follow his lead. The more we see him at work in our lives, the greater our confidence and trust.

We are often our own worst enemy. To give ourselves over completely to God demands that we get out of our own way. Our natural tendency is to handle our own issues…to try to emotionally or rationally work our way through every problem we face. We think we can figure it out on our own.

When I trust in my own abilities alone, it almost always leads to failure. I eventually reach a point where I don’t know where to turn. The writer of Proverbs says it’s God who can make the path clear to us.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your path.” Proverbs 3:5-6

It would be so much easier if I just did that from the beginning. They are at times difficult lessons. Depend on God. Lean not on your own understanding. Get out of your own way.

Perhaps another way of looking at that is that God calls us to rest in him. His promise is that the “weary and burdened” can find rest in him. That only works if we’re willing to get out of our way or let go of our own egos.

Resting in God’s hands is another way of expressing our trust in him. when we rest on the Lord, we are leaning on his strength, learning from him. He willingly carries the load for us as we walk through life. If we grow tired or stressed, we can draw close to Jesus and find comfort and rest because we trust completely in him.

When you get right down to it, we grow in our trust in God by getting to know him.

God reveals himself through the scripture I read. The Bible studies I attend. The sermons I hear. If I’m not availing myself of those opportunities, God has a difficult time breaking through the noise of my life. Those are the places where I learn about God’s faithfulness. His consistent, unchanging nature. The more I understand him, the more I look back on my life and see his work and his presence, the more I trust him.

I wrote most of this study last night. While walking for exercise this morning, I found a penny on the street. I stopped long enough to pick it up. There is was, embossed in the copper alloy right above Abe Lincoln’s head. “In God We Trust.”

I smiled, put it in my pocket and said a prayer of gratitude to God. Like that wealthy businessman, I figure God dropped that message at my feet for a purpose…a reminder to trust him. Who am I to pass that up?

Lucky us. Sidewalk pennies are plentiful.

Go ahead. Pick it up.

The Race Marked Out for Us

Background Passage: Hebrews 12:1-2; Matthew 13:1-23

The passage below falls easily into my list of 10 favorite Bible verses. Born with an athlete’s mind, if not an athlete’s talent, I find I can relate to the imagery suggested by the writer of Hebrews. Hebrews was written to a group of Christian believers who faced the temptation to abandon their faith in the face of fierce opposition and outright persecution.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by
so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us throw off everything that hinders
and the sin that so easily entangles,
and let us run with perseverance
the race marked out for us.
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus,
the author and perfecter of our faith…”

The astute writer drew upon the life testimonies of men and women we might place in our Hall of Honor for the faith they demonstrated when God called them to serve. He wanted these struggling brothers and sisters to think of these great people as spectators in the crowd, encouraging them in their Christian walk.

Each of us can come up with a list of our personal heroes of faith whose lives inspire, encourage and strengthen our own. When life gets tough, thinking about those who lived through their own share of disappointments, despair and defeat can keep us pressing forward in our own spiritual journey.

To get to where I want to go with this devotional thought, let’s first hit a couple of quick points.

First, we must cast off all that slows us down or trips us up. The language of the passage talks about being weighed down, burdened, or carrying a bulging, heavy load. Using the writer’s imagery, we think about it in terms of a race or athletic contest.

There is a reason why runners take off their warm-up suits before the start their race. There is a reason their track shoes are all sole and little substance. Everything they wear is lightweight. To gain a runner’s edge, they wish to get rid of anything that would slow them down.

I remember my high school football coach putting lead weights around my ankles during practice and making me run the drills. Every move felt like I was slogging through mud. I don’t know if I actually moved faster when the weight was removed, but it sure felt like it.

That is the mental picture the writer of Hebrews is painting. Get rid of what might keep you from running the race God calls us to run. It is easy to see times in my Christian life when I carried weight I didn’t need to carry. Bad habits. Bitterness. Irritation. Regret. Poor choices. Lost focus. Selfishness. Arrogance. It is sin that wraps itself around our hearts and our feet until it causes us to stumble. Sin that trips us up.

Living the kind of life God desires for us requires us to be agile and quick in our response to his call and his will. We simply can’t do that when we carry around our burdens or try to walk with weights on our feet. We can’t move when our feet are trapped in a tangle of sin.

Scripture tells us to throw it off, untangle our feet, and get back in the race.

Secondly, we must be in spiritual shape to stay in the race. It’s easy to stay committed to Christ for a time. It’s much hard to have staying power. The writer of Hebrews says,

“…run with perseverance…”

Depending on your Bible translation, this admonition may read, “…run with patience…” or “run with endurance.”

Those early Christians lived during a time when calling oneself a Christian was dangerous. When faced with economic sanctions and life or death choices, many turned away from the faith to which they were called. Before we get too high on our horse and claim superior faith, we need to think about those times when we set aside our own faith for the convenience of the day. A commitment made to God that we failed to keep. A promise made that we broke. A holy fire within that we let smolder.

Jesus talked about those moments in life when he shared the parable of the sower. He spoke of the farmer’s seed that fell on the thin soil. It sprouted quickly and withered just as fast. He told his disciples later that the plant is like a person who receives God’s word gladly and sets it aside when life gets tough. The faith which grew so promisingly, withered in the heat of the day.

When we give our lives to God and accept his gift of grace, it is not a commitment of convenience that allows us to walk away when challenges come. Salvation does not vaccinate us against a pandemic of problems. Sometimes the best lessons we learn come when we look back on our spiritual walk and see how God worked in our lives during times we struggled most to see him and sense his will.

The writer of Hebrews encourages us, “be patient.” “Persevere.” “Endure.” “Finish what we started.”

Here’s the third point…the idea that caught my attention when reading this passage this time. The writer of Hebrews talked about the “race marked out for us.”

“…the race marked out for us…”

In one sense, we are all running the same race…our spiritual journey is all about following God’s call. Being obedient to his will for our lives. In another sense, we each have our own race to run. You can’t run mine and I can’t run yours. It is my unique call. God, in his wisdom, laid out the track that he asked me to run.

There are some believers in the world who must run a race of real persecution, living out their faith beset by those who would punish them for believing in Jesus. Their race is more difficult than the race I run.

There are some believers who daily face abuse, rejection, poverty, sickness, loneliness. There are Christians who face heartbreak, unimaginable loss and financial ruin. It is not the race they wished for, but it is the race they must run.

God has given me a race to run. He asks me to stay in my lane because that’s where the things I need to learn and his best blessings will be found.

When we were all younger, three of us would meet each evening after our kids were put to bed for a nightly jog. After several months of running three miles a night, one of us, I don’t remember who, had the brilliant idea to run a half-marathon…13 miles and change. That meant some nights we were running five miles and some Saturdays much longer in preparation.

Though all of us were a bit more slender in those days, I didn’t have the runner’s mindset nor the runner’s body. I was forever falling behind. When we began to stretch out those nightly runs, I usually fell behind quite a bit.

At some point, I found a shortcut. About midway through our routine route, we entered a neighborhood that circled around and found the same road on which we had been running. I discovered if I took a left when they went straight, I would meet them coming back, knocking several blocks off my run.

It seemed to be a brilliant strategy as long as I could withstand their less than gentle ribbing. It seemed a good idea until we began our official half-marathon race in the hills of Huntsville, Texas. All those days taking a shortcut took their toll. By they time I finished the race that day, exhausted and spent, they were sipping lemonade and eating bananas in the shade with their feet up. I just wasn’t in as good a physical condition as my friends because I took months of shortcuts.

God, in his infinite will and wisdom, has our life’s course laid out. Every shortcut, every detour we take because it’s easier, erodes our spiritual condition. In “…the race marked out for us” there are no shortcuts that honor God’s purpose and play for our lives.

The good news is that whatever race we have been given to run, and whatever shortcuts we took that put us on the wrong path, the writer of Hebrews gives us the key to finishing well.

“Let us fix our eyes upon Jesus…”

The best runners in the world leave the starting blocks with their eyes on the tape at the finish line. They don’t look at the other runners. They don’t glance into the stands. They run with their eyes on the tape.

The world dangles a lot of attractive philosophies and practices in front of our eyes. We hear the cheers of those who would encourage us to run a different race. The only counter to the siren call of others is to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.

He is faithful. He is trustworthy. He will never forsake you. This is exactly what the writer of Hebrews is telling his persecuted brothers and sisters. It is the message they needed to hear.

Run the race you’ve been given. Throw off anything that keeps you from running well. Run with patience and endurance. Stay in your lane. Take no shortcuts. Keep your eyes on Jesus.

It is the message I needed to hear.

In the Potter’s Hands

Background Passages: Jeremiah 18:1-6; 2 Chronicles 1:7,10; Luke 22:42 Ephesians 2:10

A confluence of disconnected spiritual thoughts joined into one idea this week…rivulets of scripture and song flowing from different places to form one lesson, one powerful reminder of what it means to live a life obedient to God’s will. See if you can follow the path of my warped mind.

……….

Sunday’s Random Thought…

It came to mind again this week when I was lost in thought while exercising. Out of nowhere, I thought of the song, Have Thine Own Way, by Adelaide Pollard. The lines that kept repeating in my head were:

“Have Thine own way, Lord.
Have Thine own way.
Thou art the potter,
I am the clay.
Mold me and make me,
after thy will,
while I am waiting,
yielded and still.”

It seems that after graduating from college in Boston, Pollard moved to Chicago to teach in a girl’s school there. In frail health, she was drawn to first a faith healer and then to an evangelist who preached only about the end times and the second coming of Christ.

She moved back to New England feeling called to be a missionary in Africa. A series of health setbacks, detours and roadblocks derailed her plans. Despondent, she attended a prayer meeting one evening and heard an elderly woman pray: “It doesn’t matter what you bring into our lives, Lord, just have your own way with us.”

Before the evening was over, Pollard penned the words to the song that kept repeating in my brain.

“Have Thine own way…mold me and make me…Thou art the potter. I am the clay.”

It is a metaphor not uncommon in scripture. Jeremiah used it to make a point. Paul hinted at it several times in his letters.

Let that tickle the corners of your heart for a bit. We’ll come back to it.

……….

Tuesday’s Random Thought…

They had been a rebellious people. Having grown indifferent to the covenant they made with God, the people of Israel grew obstinate and defiant toward the word of the Lord. Shedding the commands of God like a dirty cloak, they held God’s law in contempt, comfortable doing their own thing.

God called them “stiff-necked.” Stubborn. Intractable. Hard to lead.

I find the term descriptively appropriate to my life at times. “Stiff-necked” was a term intimately familiar to the Jewish people. Most farmed small plots to feed their families and livestock. With oxen to pull the plow, they used an ox-goad, a pointed stick or metal rod to poke the ox to direct its path. The stubborn or stiff-necked ox would ignore the prod and go where it wanted to go.

The Hebrew people lived a roller coaster life of obedience and stubbornness. This was one of those moments at the bottom of the ride. God called Jeremiah to give a word of warning to his stiff-necked people.
Weary of their rebelliousness, God told Jeremiah to “go to the potter’s house” and wait for his word. Jeremiah sat down beside the potter and watched him work the wheel.

“But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as it seemed best to him.” Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does? Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.” (Jeremiah 18:1-6)

I like that idea. When I am misshapen, God can form me into another pot as it seems best to him.

Let that germinate in your fertile soil for a little while.

……….

Thursday’s Random Thought…

The day had been a glorious day. Jesus’ entry into the City of David found him surrounding by an adoring multitude, waving palm branches and singing praises. They wanted nothing more than to be near the one who had done so many miraculous things. Jesus spent the day preaching and teaching all who would listen.

After an evening meal that left his closest followers bewildered and perplexed, Jesus took them back out of the city into the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. Settling his weary band of disciples onto the rocky hillside, Jesus took a handful of his closest friends a little farther up the hill. “Come, pray with me,” he implored them.

Jesus walked a few steps away before falling on his knees. Leaning against a boulder with his head searching the heavens, Jesus prayed for a way out of the horror that awaited him.

“Father, if you are willing,” he prayed, “let this cup pass from me.”

I can only imagine Jesus recalling Abraham, hovering over his son, Isaac, with a knife prepped and ready to take his life in sacrifice to God. As Jesus recalled how God stayed the hand of Abraham, telling him to find the ram trapped in the thicket as a substitute for his son, I can see Jesus hoping that God would find a ram to take his place.

No new word came from above. No ram in the garden. Jesus, ever obedient to his father, prayed, what Bill Wilson, with the Center for Healthy Churches, calls the “prayer of holy indifference.”

“Yet, not my will, by thine be done.” (Luke 22:42)

Such sweet surrender. A sobering thought for any day. Take a moment. Consider its implications.

……….

Friday’s Random Thought…

In a recent study of Solomon’s life, we find him taking the reins of leadership from his father David. The task ahead must have seemed daunting. His first official act was to bring the people together to worship. A thousand sacrifices were made. Prayers voiced. Songs played and sung in adoration of their Creator God. Deliverer. Lord Almighty.

God honored Solomon’s worship. That evening he spoke to the new king and offered him a blank check of God’s promise.

“Ask me whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon answered God, “…Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I might lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours.” (2 Chronicles 1:7,10)

God delivered in a significant way. Through his life, Solomon was noted for his wisdom. Scripture tells us kings and queens from all over the known world journeyed to Jerusalem to sit in counsel with the man. To pick his brain.

“All the kings of the earth sought audience with Solomon to hear the wisdom God had put on his heart.” (2 Chronicles 9:23)

Solomon allowed God to teach him. To reveal truth to him. To apply that truth to everyday life. Solomon looked at the world around him and understood how much he did not know about governing…about life…about how to be who God needed him to be. His prayer for wisdom and knowledge reveals his humility before God. In praying for God’s help, he made himself clay in the potter’s hands, a person to be molded and shaped.

Hang on to that bit of wisdom just a moment longer.

……….

There you go. Four seemingly random thoughts entering my brain at different times and for very different reasons. Let me share with you, if I can, where these streams of thought came together.

If I’m honest, I suspect my life is not that different from the lives of those who frustrated God and Jeremiah. One minute faithful. The next minute faithless. One moment seeking God. The next moment scorning God. While I want to believe I live my life more in those faithful, seeking moments, those times when I am faithless and scorning haunt me profoundly. Create more turmoil than necessary.

That’s why I the words of Have Thine Own Way resonate so deeply. Adelaide Pollard nailed it. Despite the turmoil in her life, despite every obstacle that kept her from going where she wanted to go, she penned words that speak to me every time I hear them.

“Thou art the potter. I am the clay.
Mold me. Make me.
After thy will.”

That’s the prayer of one hoping to let go of the arrogance and ignorance that tends to walk it’s own road, unwilling to listen to either the still, small voice or the clap of thunder.

The sweetest times of life come when I make myself pliable enough for God to begin again to shape me into the man he desires me to be. I see myself sitting next to Jeremiah, learning a valuable lesson from the potter. When my life is marred in God’s hands, I am glad he reshapes it as a “another pot,” remolding me in ways that seem “best to him.”

That only happens when let go of my stubborn pride and my stiff-necked attitude.

That’s where I draw inspiration from Solomon. God offered Solomon anything…everything. Yet, Solomon did not ask for riches. He did not ask for possessions or honor. He did not ask for the death of his enemies. He did not ask for a long life.

Solomon asked for God’s wisdom. I shudder to think of my response if I were allowed to rub God’s genie lamp and claim my wish. Seeking God’s will for our lives is the ultimate act of wisdom. Understanding that God’s skill at the potter’s wheel outshines our clumsy attempts to shape our own lives. Think about Pollard’s fervent prayer of submission. Solomon’s humble request for wisdom.

Then, we find ourselves in the Garden of Gethsemane. Listening to Jesus plead for God to find another way that would not take him to the cross. Spending hours agonizing over that which he was called to do.

As he prayed and listened for his Father’s word, he got to a decision point where he could walk on or walk away. His prayer was perfect. A prayer indifferent to his own will and wish. “Not my will, but yours be done.”

In the silence immediately after that prayer, I believe a calm settled in Jesus’ heart. A peace in knowing that if he remained obedient, all would be well. That God’s purpose and plan for his life and for the world, would be satisfied.

So, recognizing my tendency to be stiff-necked when it comes to what God desires of me, I lean upon a song that asks God to mold me, like a potter, after his will, not mine. I seek his wisdom, knowing his understanding far exceeds my limited abilities. When submission and humility united, the prayer of holy indifference is so much easier to pray.

Nevertheless, Father, not my will, but yours be done. weet surrender of one completely in God’s will.

Today’s Last Random Thought…

As I finished this meandering idea, hoping it would make sense, one more verse came to mind. One more random…God-inspired…thought.

Paul, writing to the church in Ephesus, reminded them that the grace gift of salvation that God provided gave them divine purpose. He said,

“We are God’s workmanship, created in Jesus Christ, to do good works, which he determined in advance for us to do.’” (Ephesians 2:10)

The word Paul uses for “workmanship” can be translated “work or art” or “masterpiece.” I like that idea, particularly in light of my other random thoughts.

The potter is also an artist. As capable with a cup as with a sculpture. As the works of God’s hand, carefully shaped and molded into a masterpiece of his will and way, we are called then to do the good work he has planned for us to do. Capable of doing it well. Capable of doing it right. Capable of doing it consistently.

All it required is submission, humility, surrender and the willingness to let the potter work.

Now, you catch a glimpse of how my mind works. I just hope there is a clear message buried in the meandering madness.

Let Us Not Give Up Meeting

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-19; I Peter 2:4-8; Hebrews 11:24-25

Jesus slipped to the grass from the flat rock upon which he sat as he spent the last hour in prayer. The canopy of trees under which he now reclined with his back against the rock sheltered him from the late afternoon sun. Jesus glanced at his disciples gathered in a loose cluster about 40 feet further down the hill. As they finished their prayers one by one, they talked quietly among themselves, breaking out a small loaf of bread and passing it around, satisfying their hunger.

Jesus looked from his disciples down into the town of Caesarea Philippi, a bustling city 30 miles north of the region of Galilee. He watched the frenetic pace of the people as they finished the work of the day and headed home. He lifted his eyes toward the sheer cliff on the north side of the city. It rose 150 feet above the lush, green valley below. He knew the stream gushing from the massive grotto on the western edge of the cliff were the headwaters of the Jordan River as it flowed south to the Sea of Galilee.

The cavern was said to be the birthplace of Pan, the Greek god of nature. Worshippers still brought their offerings of fruit and grain, laying them at the altar.

His vision shifted to the gleaming temple of white marble which Philip, the region’s ruler, dedicated to Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor whom the people considered a god. Before these temples and altars were built, Jesus knew his history well enough to know the whole area stood as a center dedicated to the worship of Baal, the ancient Canaanite god.

It was a deeply reflective moment. Jesus contemplated the scene spread across the valley below. Considered all he had done during his ministry. Felt his gut tighten when he thought about the cross to come. Had anything he said and done made a difference? Before he began his final journey to the cross Jesus needed to know. Did anyone really know who he was?

He turned to his disciples quietly talking and laughing in the ease of friendships forged by common experiences. His words cut through the comfortable conversation. “Who do the crowds say I am?” They turned toward Jesus in a rustle of robes and shuffling feet. They were used to his probing. Knew an answer was required. “John the Baptist,” one blurted. “One of the old prophets brought back to life,” announced another. “Elijah,” another proclaimed.

Jesus glanced again at the city below, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turned back to his disciples. “But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

Jesus held his breath, looking into the eyes of each of his closest friends. Their answers would make all the difference. Would he see blank stares of incomprehension? Would he catch so much as a spark of understanding that meant he had at least lit a torch in their hearts? He waited. Felt his heart thump anxiously in his chest.

How his soul must have soared when Peter stood among them, looked at his friends, then to Jesus, knowing that he answered for all of them. “You are the Messiah. The Anointed One of God.”

I wrote the above narrative almost three years ago. It is a favorite episode of mine from the life of Jesus. At the time I wrote it, I used it to talk about what that kind of faith commitment means. I was reminded of that devotional last week for a different reason when I read the following headline that popped up on my news feed.

“U.S. Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time”

A stunning statement, but not surprising. We’ve all seen the evidence.

The Gallup Poll provides interesting fodder for sociologists and students of American culture. Of the many things it has surveyed over the past 80 years, Gallup annually measures religious affiliations and church membership.

Gallup reported this year that Americans’ memberships in houses of worship dropped below 50 percent for the first time since the data was collected. In 2020, 47 percent of Americans said they belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque, a drop of 23 percent over the last 20 years.

At the same time, Gallup also showed that the United States remains “religious.” More than 70 percent of all Americans affiliate with some type of faith tradition.

So, the question begs to be answered. If 70 percent of us claim to be religious, why are less than half of us a member of a local congregation? Why is it that almost every church has a membership role that far exceeds its regular attendance? What does it mean for the church in the days to come?

I think the answers to those questions go back to that hillside in Caesarea Phillipi. After Peter made that astounding declaration of faith and Jesus breathed his sigh of relief, he turned to Peter with an amazing statement of his own.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

Jesus declared to Peter that because of his profession of faith he would be the rock upon which his church would be built. Baptist pastor Michael Stark said, “Our Lord was saying to Peter that he was the beginning of the new Israel, the new people of the Lord, the new fellowship of those believing on His Name. Peter was the first to both understand who Jesus was and to declare openly that truth.”

Peter is spoken of as the rock of the church in the sense that he was the first person to fully comprehend who Jesus was. While the Catholic church elevates Peter to a high status within the church, Peter himself never felt that way. He spoke often of being a “fellow worker” and a “bond slave.”

Don’t take that passage out of context. The rest of scripture declares that it is not just Peter who must be the rock of his church, but all of us. In his one of his own letters to the early church Peter wrote,

“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (I Peter 2:4-8)

Do you hear what he said?

“You, yourselves, like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house…”

You and I, as believers in Christ, are the building blocks of God’s church.

Practically, we know that every building needs a solid foundation and quality materials. God laid a foundation of reconciliation to a sinful world. Jesus’ life and ministry, his work on the cross and his resurrection served as the faith cornerstone of the church.

In light of the Gallup report, how effective can that church be if we remove our stone from its walls?

I don’t know why so many are choosing to leave the organized church. Perhaps, the church has grown too tolerant in some cases; too intolerant in others; too self-righteous to some; and far too political in its extreme.

What I do know is that the cause of Christ is damaged every time one of us says, “I have had enough.”

We are a sinful and imperfect people…both inside and outside the church. When I use that as my measure, viewing the church only as a body of hypocrites, it’s easy to walk away.

I see those in the church as very much like me. Filled with fault. Trying their best to live according to God’s purpose. That’s when I find I most need the church. That’s when I find the church most needs me.

The headline made me think. Why do I stay involved when others choose a different path?

The Bible calls us to corporate worship and good work. We congregate so we can love and be loved. We congregate in order to serve others as Jesus served. In a world that easily rejects everything it means to live for Christ, I need the encouragement of fellow believers to keep from giving in or giving up. I find that encouragement in the gathering of the church.

The writer of Hebrews said it plainly:

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another. (Hebrews 11:24-25)

To be sure, there are many believers of genuine faith who no longer belong to a specific congregation for a variety of reasons. They have given up their habit of meeting together. I don’t question that their faith is real and meaningful. However, I know what I receive by being active and involved in a local congregation. Therefore, I know what they are missing.

As a part of the church, I am loved. With all my faults and mistakes, as a part of the church I am accepted. As a part of the church, I have a place I can serve using the gifts God has given me. As a part of the church, I am taught the things of God. As a part of the church, I know I am where God expects me to be.

We’ve all been hurt by someone in the church at some point in our lives. We’ve all been disappointed and let down. By the same token, we have hurt and disappointed our share of people, I’m sure. Regardless, of how deeply that hurt runs, we cannot abandon the place where God calls us to serve wherever that may be.

You see, my church became the church to me because I became a part of it and, in doing so, it became a part of me…if that makes sense.

To all those believers who have walked away from the for whatever reason, the God needs you now in his church more than ever. Find a place where you can be encouraged. Find a place where you can love and let them love you. Find a place where you can serve God with all the gifts he gave you.

Let us not give up meeting together. Let us keep investing ourselves in his work, participating in his ministry. Now is not the time to walk away. Become a part of a church somewhere that needs your presence and in doing so, let it become a part of you.

Worthy of the Call

Background Passage: Ephesians 4:1-16; Acts 19:20, 23

Serving as a pastor or minister is a more than a job. For most of the men and women who serve as ministers, their work is a calling. When we speak of a “calling” we tend to speak in reverential tones. It is a beautiful idea of being set apart for service by God.

Many who serve in other capacities speak of their call to service. A police officer who puts his or her life on the line every day to serve a community speaks of a calling. A doctor or nurse feels called into the field to care for the sick and hurting.

Watch a kindergarten teacher work his or her magic while trying to corral 22 five-year-old children. See the middle school teacher fending off the preteen hormones. Follow a high school teacher preparing teenagers for a world that is changing before their eyes. If you do, you know these saints of schools have been called to that profession.

Being God-called to serve in whatever occupational capacity is, in my view, the definition of that which is honorable and noble.

The police officer who violates community trust, the doctor or nurse who turns a callous heart to a suffering patient, or a teacher whose actions diminish the potential of a child, fail to live worthy of the call they received.

If we allow God to rule our lives, I believe that we have been called to the career to which he led us…with godly intent and purpose. The Bible teaches a higher scriptural call for every believer in Christ.

The Bible tells us there will always be a battle between the way of Christ and the way of the world. In this clash of cultures, Christians are called to live distinctive lives, different from the world around us.

Paul, the apostle, spent years in Ephesus sharing the gospel to a diverse group of Gentile and Jewish individuals who, in the real world, stood at odds. In Christ, Paul needed them to love one another and to be united in spirit and faith. In his letter to the Ephesian church he encouraged them to join in relationship with one another and to grow in wisdom and maturity of faith.

When division crept into the church, Paul addressed the issue head on. He knew it was the only way they could distinguish themselves from the cutthroat culture of the community that surrounded them. He told them that God had given them everything they needed to live those distinctive lives.

Ephesus was an important city in the Roman Empire during the first century. Its harbor opened onto the Cayster River of Asia Minor which emptied into the Aegean Sea. At one point, Ephesus, with its 250,000 residents, was a hub of commerce and the second largest city in the known world.

In addition, it was a major religious center. The city boasted a temple dedicated to the Greek goddess, Artemis, (the Roman goddess, Diana) one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

During Paul’s three-year stay in Ephesus, the gospel of Jesus Christ took hold. Acts 19 tells us that people were abandoning their pagan religion and that “the word of the Lord spread widely and grew in power.” (Acts 19:20)

The clash between the pagan culture and the growing Christian culture shook Ephesus to its core.

“About this time there arose a great disturbance about the Way.” (Acts 19:23)

A silversmith, named Demetrius, who made small shrines to Artemis, complained that this new Christian religion was cutting into his business. He called together his workmen and craftsmen of all related trades stirred up a city-wide riot that threatened the lives of Paul, his pastors and all Christian believers in Ephesus.

It was within this clash of cultures that Paul admonished the believers to keep living distinctive lives.

“I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

What a challenge he presented the followers of Christ 2,000 years ago and today. Live a life worthy of your calling. He wasn’t talking about one’s profession or work. He was talking about the call to live life in the image of Christ. Let Paul explain what that meant.

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”

What does that kind of life look like? A Christian, in Paul’s definition is one who puts others before self, extending kindness to all he or she encounters, answering the hurts and disappointments inflicted by others with self-control and restraint and showering both friend and enemy in God’s love.

Nothing quite destroys the witness of a Christian or the church as quickly as when humility is replaced with arrogance. Gentleness with Rudeness. Patience with restlessness. Love with hatred. Peace with discontent.

Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Love. Peace. Living lives patterned by these traits…what Paul identifies elsewhere as “fruits of the spirit…” builds unity within the church and enhances our witness in the world.

It’s not just the unity within a local congregation of which Paul speaks. It is our relationship as Christians to all people of faith regardless of social status, political affiliation, or ethnicity. It is our purpose to keep that unity from being disturbed by focusing on that which unites us.

“There is one body and one Spirit…just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all…”

There is nothing wrong with our denominational divisions. There is nothing wrong with the varied worship styles. We all belong to one faith. When we allow our differences to overshadow the similarities, we diminish our witness. Baptist. Methodist. Catholic. Male. Female. Black. White. Brown. Saints and sinners. One faith in glorifying God. One faith in Jesus Christ as Savior. One faith in the spirit who guides. One faith in serving our fellowman. One faith in building the kingdom of God in this world.

God desires us to live lives worthy of his calling. God wants to live in unity as believers in Christ. These things are so important to him that he provides us with the means to make it happen.

“…To each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it…he gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers to prepare God’s people for works of service so the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in faith…and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.”

You and I have been called to serve in some unique way and given the gifts to be so very good at it. When we use those gifts we’ve been given, the engine that is the Christian faith fires on all cylinders at its utmost efficiency and effectiveness. Every time we live unworthy of the calling nothing in life runs as smoothly as it could.

The clash of cultures between the way of Christ and the way of the world is starkly evident today. Because the world delights in our failure to live up to our calling, we need an extra measure of those distinctive characteristics that set us apart from the world.

Lest we think it’s impossible to live with one another in humility, gentleness, patience, love and unity, we simply must keep our eyes on the one God, the one Lord, the one Spirit and the one faith.

Seek God and his will. Look to serve one another. Set aside that which divides us and open your hearts to love all those who love the Lord. Reach out to the world community in ways that demonstrate the love and compassion of Christ.

“Live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

I don’t know about you, but it is a reminder I needed to hear and heed.

Amen.

 

 

Abide in Me

Background Passages: John 15:1-11; Galatians 5:22

When I enrolled at Texas Tech University many years ago, I left a high school with 120 students to enter a college with more than 20,000 students. It was a little intimidating. My brother, who was already a senior at Tech, shared some great words of advice.

He simply said to make the enormous a little smaller by creating a connection with a group on campus.

Made sense.

I chose to make the Baptist Student Union my connection. I made great friends, discovered tremendous spiritual mentors and found Robin, my wife. As far as I am concerned it was the social trifecta of my college experience.

I maintain peripherally connected to this day. I follow the Tech BSM on Facebook, receiving information about the ways that organization continues to minister to its students.

I saw a post this week about one of those programs that encourages students to pray for their friends, their campus and the world. The BSM is encouraging alumni and others to pray as well. That, I can do. The program is called ABIDE.

After reading that post, that word kept creeping back into my thoughts this week. When that happens, it’s usually a sign that God has something he wants me to learn. That became the focus of my devotional thoughts this week.

Abide is not a word we use much anymore. At least, I don’t.

The dictionary calls it an “Old English word.” That must be why the translators of the King James Version of the Bible (living and breathing old English men) loved the word. They used it often.

By definition “abide” carries the meaning of “await, remain, lodge, sojourn, dwell, continue and endure.”

The word points me to a beautiful passage in John 15:1-11. Rather than using the more archaic “abide,” my New International Version uses “remain.” Let’s break it down.

Jesus and his disciples just left the solemn confines of the upper room. Jesus sought to ease their creeping sense of anxiety and uncertainty. As he frequently did, he drew a parable from a familiar life experience to focus their thoughts on the point he needed them to understand.

“I am the true vine and my father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I spoke to you. Remain in me as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself. It must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Jesus wanted, needed, them to understand that even though he would go away, the connection he had with them was strong. He had already told them about the Comforter he would send in his place, but here he reminded them that the gardener had already pruned them for fruitfulness by the “word” he spoke to them.

John called Jesus the Word back in Chapter 1. The truth he shared with them, the truth they learned from him would serve them through every step of life as long as they allowed the word to remain. Everything Jesus had taught them for three years was to prepare them for this moment. If they never forgot what they had been told and put those words into practice, they would bear fruit.

Isn’t the same true for us? The pull to walk our own path grows strong when we forget what we’ve learned about God’s truth…his way and his word. When we ignore God’s word because it doesn’t fit with our personal desires.

We remain in him and he in us when we immerse ourselves in his word, putting into practice all he has taught us through the years.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

“I am the vine and 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. This is to my father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”

Jesus’ illustration of the vine and branches is brilliant imagery. Our ability to be fruitful hinges on our connection with the one, true vine. If we claim that all things are possible through Christ, we must also accept that nothing meaningful and lasting value is possible without him. When we pull away from the vine, we cannot bear fruit.

Galatians gives us a great idea of what that fruit might be.

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

By remaining and abiding in Christ, we find our lives demonstrate the character of Christ. We become more Christ-like. When our lives take on the character of Christ, it glorifies God and tells the world of the transforming nature of Christ. Without wearing the t-shirt, a sinful world will know are his disciples.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

“As my Father has loved me, so I have loved you, now remain in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so my joy may be (remain) in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Jesus knew the disciples would soon have the bottom drop out of their world. These words were meant to reassure them.

“I have loved you…remain in my love.” What must it have meant to his closest followers to hear those words? During the darkest of hours yet to come, the disciples heard Jesus remind them to cherish and cling to his love. It is the same sustaining love you and I experience when the bottom drops out of our world.

When Jesus told his disciples, “If you keep my commandments,” he wasn’t saying his freely offered love was conditional on their obedience. God’s love is always unconditional. He was saying to the disciples and to us that our obedience keeps us from drifting so far from him that we can no longer feel his love.

Everything I learn of God through his Son, his Spirit and his word, reminds me of all I’ve gained through my relationship with him.

I hear those final words spoken as clearly to me as if I were standing among those shaken disciples. I hear the promise of abiding joy, utter contentment, at the life God has given me and in the future he has planned for me.

And here is the real kicker. Hear what Jesus said in this passage. “…remain in my love…” “so that my joy may be in you…” Did you hear it? My love. My joy. That’s what he wishes for us.

No one this world has known love more deeply, more authentically, than did Jesus. No one this world has loved more deeply, more authentically, than did Jesus. His joy was absolute contentment, despite the difficult circumstances and the horrendous task he faced.

It is the fullness of that love and joy that he desires for us. Not the feeble imitation offered by the world. His love. His joy. We gain access to that depth of feeling when we remain in him.

So Jesus says, “Abide in me.”

I join in prayer with those college students at Tech who seek that connection with the Father, through his Son. Those who desire a connection with the vine. Those who wish to be pruned in order to be fruitful to the glory of God.

Jesus told us how. It simple remains for us to listen. Make the connection real and personal. Allow Jesus to “await,” “remain,” “lodge,” “sojourn,” “dwell,” “continue” and “endure”within our hearts throughout our lives. Then, do our best to “await,” “remain,” “lodge,” “sojourn,” “dwell,” “continue” and “endure” in him.

If that sounds too complicated, let’s keep it simple and go old school grounded in the old English.

“Abide in me as I abide in you.”

No Where Else To Go

Background Passage: John 14:23-27

I spent the bulk of my professional career trying to put the right words together to explain things. I always felt I did it fairly well. Today, I’m at a loss to explain what’s happening in our country.

It’s not that the events of the past year have caught me by surprise. It’s just that it all seems so senseless. The ideologies and actions of a radical left and radical right keep tearing at the fabric of our republic.

I have no words to ease the angst of my adult children who wonder what kind of world their children will inherit. I certainly have no words to adequately answer the questions of my nine-year-old grandson whose innocent heart cannot comprehend hatred and bitterness.

I am at a loss. All I can do for them is listen and love.

We’ve become a people who call others blind because of the sawdust in their eyes without paying heed to the plank obscuring our own vision. A people unable to see that spiritually an “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” gave way to “turning the other cheek” or “walking the extra mile.”

An essay published by the Lincoln Home National Historic Site shared information about President Lincoln’s thoughts on the eve of the Civil War.

Step back in time and travel the world in 1860. Visiting every continent, every country, you would find monarchies, dictatorships and authoritarian rule. When you return home and set foot on American soil after all your travels, you would have found only one republic established on democratic rule. The United States of America.

France tried shortly after the American Revolution, but mob rule and the guillotine determined outcomes more than the ballot box. If we are honest with ourselves, it is a startling comparison to our present circumstance when taking over a downtown or storming our Capitol building are accepted as necessary by factions of our population, each declaring that the end would justify the means.

President Abraham Lincoln led our nation at a time when the world’s monarchists and tyrants watched our Civil War with glee, hoping to see the end of this unnatural democratic experiment in the dissolution of the United States.

Lincoln understood this well. It was not simple political rhetoric when he described America as “the world’s last best hope.” Lincoln believed if the war were lost, it would be the end of America. If America ceased to exist as a united nation, it would end the hope of people everywhere for any form of democratic government.

I suspect there are foreign nations today dancing with joy at the discord so prevalent among our people.

When he was most overwhelmed, Lincoln found the only answer available to him. It’s the only answer I can find to my current inadequacies. Lincoln turned to prayer.

During the worst days of the Civil War, Lincoln met privately with his friend and journalist Noah Brooks. The president told him, “I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”

“Driven to my knees…” When the politics fail, when our own understanding fails us, maybe it’s time to hear those words from President Lincoln. Maybe today, we have “no where else to go” except to our knees in prayer to our Father in heaven.

On March 4, 1861, at his first inaugural address, with his nation divided and on the brink of Civil War, Lincoln offer this prayer for peace.

“Almighty God, who has given us this good land for our heritage;
We humbly beseech Thee that we may always prove ourselves
a people mindful of Thy favor and glad to do Thy will.

“Bless our land with honorable ministry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion,
from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.

“Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people,
the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues.

“Endow with Thy spirit of wisdom those whom in Thy name
we entrust the authority of government, that there may be
justice and peace at home, and that through obedience to Thy law, we may show forth Thy praise among the nations of the earth.

“In time of prosperity fill our hearts with thankfulness,
and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in Thee to fail;
all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

It was the perfect prayer for an imperfect era of discord 160 years ago. It’s a good prayer for this day of uncertainty. I claim it for our nation today and ask you to join me in praying for our country, our leaders, our people and our future.

Prayer is something I can do. It is prayer that will bring me the peace I need to feel.

As a politically divided nation, peace is at a premium. Trying to find peace in the events of this world is a fruitless effort. Life’s circumstances and events might bring a welcomed calm, but, ultimately, nothing that happens around us will ever bring peace. We must look upward and inward for that.

Jesus’ words to his disciples in the Upper Room hours before his arrest and crucifixion offered instruction, hope and encouragement. He knew the disciples were about to have the rug pulled out from under their feet. He knew how dark their days would grow and how burdened their hearts would be. He knew exactly what they needed to hear.

What I know in this moment is that God knows my struggles and burdens of my heart. He knows how dark these days feel to me at times. That’s why his words to his disciples bring comfort to my heart. He knows what I need to hear.

“Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching…but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom my father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:23-27)

Don’t worry, he says, about what is happening around you. Just stay true to all I’ve taught you. Be who I have called you to be. Remember all I’ve taught you and don’t be influenced by others to abandon your faith and your hope.

In the middle of life’s turmoil, trust me. Trust my peace, not as the world understands it, but peace as you have experienced  in the past. Do not be afraid.

I don’t know about you, but it is God’s peace we need as a people and a nation. It is a peace that comes only on bended knee.