Faith – Dr. Kirk Lewis

I Must Become Less

Background Passages: John 1:29-31; John 3:23-30; Matthew 16:24-26

The classical music world generally considers Italian conductor Arturo Toscanini as the greatest and most influential musician of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Known for his intensity and his quest for musical perfection, he had an ear for orchestral detail, He was, at various times, the orchestra director for La Scala in Milan, Italy, and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

One evening after a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, the audience gave Toscanini and the orchestra a prolonged standing ovation. Filled with great emotion, Toscanini turned to his musicians and whispered, “I am nothing. You are nothing.” Then, in a reverent tone, the conductor said, “But Beethoven…Beethoven is everything!”

For the gifted conductor, he and the amazingly talented musicians of the orchestra shined only as instruments through which the genius of Beethoven could be heard. Their presence and performance were subordinate to the music so brilliantly put together by the famed composer.

It’s a humility that John the Baptist understood in his relationship to Jesus.

In his Bible dictionary compiled in 1901, Dr. William Smith calls John the Baptist “the most theologically significant individual in the Bible” apart from Jesus Christ. Like Jesus, his birth is meticulously recorded in scripture and carried with it a miraculous conception reminiscent of Abraham and Sarah with its divine proclamation and intervention.

John is the only person recorded in scripture, other than Jesus as the fully divine expression of the Holy Trinity, to experience the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit from conception. Luke told us so as he described the angel’s message to John’s frightened father.

He will be a joy and delight to you and many people will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is to never take wine or other fermented drink and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born. (Luke 1:14-16)

Prior to Pentecost, God’s spirit came to specific people for a specific time and a specific purpose. When that time and purpose had been accomplished or when the person turned away from God’s calling as Saul did, the Spirit left them. In John’s case, he lived his life from birth to death with God’s spirit ever present in his life.

Born into a priest’s home in Jerusalem, John the Baptist was Jesus’ cousin. Separated by the distance between Jerusalem and Nazareth, I doubt that the cousins saw each other much more than once a year when Jesus’ parents brought him to the holy city for Passover. Though they had much in common, they were intensely different people.

If Jesus’ mother Mary was like my mom, she would have lovingly called John an “weird onion” as she hugged his neck. He lived life differently from most boys. John might have teased Jesus about his studious love of scripture and Jesus might have joked with John about his camel-haired sense of style and his penchant for snacking on honeyed locusts. (Matthew 2:4) It would have been a fun relationship to watch develop over the years.

John began his public ministry before Jesus as a “voice crying out in the wilderness” preparing the way for the coming Messiah. He preached repentance to the Jewish people, telling them that the days in which they were living marked the culmination of the law and the prophets and heralded the dawn of God’s kingdom.

As a result of his ministry, people flocked to John’s side, listening and responding to his message. Hundreds, if not thousands, sincerely turned back to God and were baptized by John in the Jordan River. His was a simple, but powerful message. Someone asked him one day if he was the promised Messiah. In his response, you get a sense of John’s understanding of his role in God’s plan.

After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. (Mark 1:7-8)

Now, imagine this day. John stood waist deep in the river, water dripping from his camel-hair shirt, as he baptized one person after another who confessed their sin and asked for God’s forgiveness. As he looked up to welcome the next person into the water, he saw the crowd part as Jesus walked carefully down the slippery riverbank.

In the booming voice of a wilderness evangelist, John declaresdto all who can hear…

Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. Reminding them of his earlier proclamation, John said, “This is the one I meant when I said, ‘A man who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.'” I did not know him, but the reason I came baptizing with water was that he might be revealed to Israel. (John 1: 29-31)

Jesus smiled as he stepped into the water in front of John and asked to be baptized. Dumbfounded, John couldn’t imagine any way that Jesus’ request made sense. Drenched in unworthiness. John refused.

“I need to be baptized by you, and yet, do you come to me?

I can see Jesus taking his cousin by the shoulders, staring intently but gently into his eyes.

“Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” (Matthew 3:14-16)

Afterward, John continued his ministry in the wilderness, calling the people to repentance and pointing the way to Jesus. At the same time, Jesus began to teach and preach. His teaching and his miracles drew crowds equal to and sometimes greater than John’s.

While John was baptizing at Aenon near Salim, along the Jordan River, about midway between Judea and Galilee, an argument developed between John’s disciples and a Jew over ceremonial washing. The Jewish man came to John and indicated that Jesus, whom John baptized, had been baptizing also and seemed to be drawing people away from John’s following.

It’s hard to tell whether the man was genuinely curious about what he felt like were competing ministries or whether he was trying to sew discord between John and Jesus. It could be that he was trying to pit one against the other for the benefit of the Jewish religious leaders who perceived both men as threats to their standing with the people.

John’s response caught my attention this week despite having read the passage many times. Listen to it.

A person can receive only what is given them from heaven. You yourselves can testify that I said, “I am not the Messiah but am sent ahead of him.” The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must be greater: I must become less. (John 3:23-30)

Because of God’s spirit within him, John the Baptist knew he played the role of best man in this story. Jesus was the bridegroom and those who believe in him his bride. That Jesus had now burst on the scene brought joy to John’s heart. Then, he said a few words you and I need to say every day.

He must be greater; I must become less.

Those eight words are easy for us to say, but so incredibly hard for us to live. Yet they need to be a constant refrain in our hearts.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we want Jesus to increase in importance to the world, but we kind of want to increase along with him. To decrease, to become less, makes us feel unimportant or forgotten. John took none of that into consideration. He wanted to live in such a way that people didn’t think of him at all. He wanted to live so people would think only of Jesus.

In those words, he challenged us to make Jesus greater in our lives, to take a back seat and let the light shine on Jesus. To let others see Jesus in and through us. Subordinating our will to his. Then, as John expressed, to find joy when we hear his voice louder than we hear our own.

John the Baptist expressed words of humility and I don’t always do humility well. Yet, the way of decrease is deeply engrained in scripture.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. (Romans 12:3)

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus. Who, being the very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. Being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on the cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Paul recognized his need to decrease in his life committed to Christ, telling the people of Galatia…

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I lie in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20)

If I am to put Christ first in my life, let him increase, that means surrendering my will to the will of God. Becoming more like Jesus as I follow him. Living my life in complete and absolute faith in him.

You hear Paul’s words stemming from Jesus’ own words to his disciples as he explained the life God requires of all believers. It resonates just as clearly today.

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. For what good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:24-26)

When I am willing to share the cross with Christ and follow his lead; when I am willing to lose myself in Christ’s shadow, only then will I find the abundant life he promised.

The praise of this world means little absent the presence of God in our lives. Putting him first. “Magnifying his name,” as Paul says when he sent his letter to the Philippian church.

When we use the word “magnify” today, we talk about making something bigger or larger like with a telescope or microscope. It was Paul’s desire that Christ would be magnified (made larger than Paul), so Christ would be honored, exalted and lifted up before all people.

Had he lived long enough to know Paul as the mighty missionary he came to be, John the Baptist would have agreed with him. To magnify Jesus means we must decrease while he must increase.

It is a sobering thought when I realize I’ve not always lived that way. With every temptation to exalt myself, I need to paraphrase the words of Toscanini. “I am nothing. You are nothing. But, Jesus…Jesus is everything.”

Let’s pray that God might help us live with the echo of John’s words in our hearts. “I must decrease; he must increase.”

Amen?

Amen.

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.

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)

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.

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!

When Doubt Creeps In

Background Passage: Luke 7:18-28; John 16:33; and I Corinthians 15:58

Being discouraged is a common human experience. If you’re not discouraged now about something happening in your life, you haven’t lived long enough, or you’re exceptionally blessed. Truthfully, in my experience, if you’re not discouraged now, just hang on. You will be at some point. Our faith gets tested time and time again by life’s challenging circumstances.

Discouragement feeds off of itself as it drives us to do or not do things that make our situation worse, spiraling into doubt and despair. In the end, we grow frustrated about what has happened or fearful of what might happen.

Noted Christian theologian and author C. S. Lewis wrote The Screwtape Letters in 1942. Screwtape, a upper management demon offers advice to his nephew, a novice demon looking to work his way up in the devil’s kingdom. Screwtape shares his wisdom in a series of letters that offer keen insight into the human condition.

In one such letter, Screwtape advises his nephew to sew fear and discouragement into the hearts of those who follow God, whom he called their Enemy. Screwtape writes, “We want him (the human) to be in the maximum uncertainty, so that his mind will be filled with contradictory pictures of the future, everyone one of which arouses hope or fear. There is nothing like suspense and anxiety for barricading a human’s mind against the Enemy. The Enemy wants men to be concerned with how they live. Our business is to keep them thinking about what will happen to them.”

If we enter our relationship with Christ expecting a trouble-free life, discouragement is a given. At some point, we will worry about what will happen to us. Jesus warns us that our time on earth will have “many trials and sorrows.” He doesn’t leave us there, however. He adds, “Take heart because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) Experiencing discouragement and doubt in troubled times is a natural response when answers don’t come quickly or when the answer is not what we expected or wanted.

You can read passage after passage in scripture about exceptional men and women of faith who grew discouraged at what life threw at them. This week I came across a passage in Luke that I’ve read but not considered deeply. In this passage, John the Baptist’s experience provides a fresh take on how we are to respond to doubts that creep in from time to time.

Can you imagine any time that John the Baptist, that fiery, locust-eating preacher and prophet, would be discouraged and filled with doubt? Here’s a guy about whom Jesus offered high praise. Talking to a crowd about John the Baptist, Jesus said,

“What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear expensive clothe and indulge in luxury are in palaces. But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.” I tell you, among those born of women there is not one greater than John…” (Luke 7:24b-28)

To Jesus, John was rock solid, called by God to set the stage for the final act of God’s redemptive plan. Let’s think about John the Baptist. (To make it less cumbersome, I’ll just call him John from now on.)

Jesus and john were kinfolk. John was born to Zachariah and Elizabeth, Mary’s relative, just months before Jesus was born. It is John whom the spirit made jump for joy while still in his mother’s womb as Mary told Elizabeth about the things God told her about her own baby. He’s safe in the womb and John’s already “preparing the way of the Lord.”

Since they lived in different towns, I doubt that Jesus and John were everyday playmates as children, but I can certainly see them playing together as children when the families gathered. I can imagine John and Jesus having some interesting conversations about life and faith as they grew to be teenagers. I can certainly hear the deeper and more substantial theological conversations as they stood on the threshold of their respective ministries.

This is the same John to whom Jesus came when he felt the need to be baptized in the Jordan River. Hear John make this strong declaration about Jesus in the moment.

“Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!…I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.” (John 1:29,34)

It is John who stood waist deep in the Jordan with Jesus, hearing the voice of God declare,

“This is my Son, the one I love. I am very pleased with him.” (Matthew 3:16-17)

If anything could cement his faith and trust in Jesus, that should be it.

It was John whose strong preaching called for repentance, urging God’s people to turn back to him. It was John who told his disciples that Jesus must increase while he (John) must decrease. It was John who chastised the rich and powerful for ignoring God’s word. It was John who was unafraid to call sin a sin, even if it meant confronting Herod, the most powerful man in Judea.

Still, as solidly as John was grounded in his faith and belief, he had a moment of doubt and despair when his life took that unexpected twist.

After calling out Herod for committing adultery with his brother’s wife, the despot had enough. Herod arrested John, shackled him and tossed him into a small, dark cell, until the king’s new wife and step-daughter conspired to have John beheaded.

While languishing in prison, John heard from some of his disciples of Jesus’ growing popularity. They told him about Jesus healing the son of a Roman centurion and raising from the dead a widow’s only son. Here’s how Luke tells the story.

“John’s disciples told him about all these things. Calling two of them, he sent them to the Lord to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” When the men came to Jesus they said, “John the Baptist sent us to you to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

“At that very time Jesus cured many who had disease, sickness and evil spirits, and gave sight to many who were blind. So he replied to the messengers, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” (Luke 7:18-23)

Did you hear John’s question? “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” John earlier declared Jesus “God’s Chosen One.” He already testified that Jesus was the Messiah. What caused his apparent change of heart?

I think the reason for his question was personal. John had done the right thing…always. He had dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s just as God led him to do, but he still found himself in prison with no way out. John could no longer do what he felt called to do.

This prophet of God faced a death sentence because he proclaimed what he thought was God’s truth. He wanted and needed to know his suffering was worth it. In his mind, everything he did that brought him to this dark place seemed in vain. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Screwtape was whispering lies that led to discouragement, doubt and despair.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was supposed to see God’s kingdom restored. He sure didn’t expect to be locked away in prison while Jesus took what seemed to be a less aggressive and less controversial path.

John’s question is one I’ve asked many times when life took its unexpected and nasty twist or when I’ve been confused and confronted with the will of God that runs counter to my own desire. Is Jesus really the one? Is Jesus who I believed him to be? Do I really trust him with my life even in the middle of this mess I’m in?

When struggling with questions of life and faith, most of us don’t go to Jesus…at least not at first. We don’t go to the source of life. We like to wallow in our misery for a bit.

Yet, in his most troubled moment John, whether he knew it or not, teaches us a lesson about what to do when doubt creeps in. When his faith wavered, John did one thing right. In the middle of his despair, John took his doubts directly to Jesus.

John’s disciples posed the prophet’s question to Jesus. Jesus didn’t blink. He didn’t roll his eyes at John’s confusion. The scripture says, “At that very time Jesus cured many diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits…”

In other words, Jesus suggested, “Why don’t you guys just take a seat and watch for a while.” Then he went about doing what Jesus always did. He took care of the people he encountered. When he finished his work, he instructed those two disciples to go back and tell John what they had seen and heard.

That Jesus touched the lives of people was a clear message to John designed to reassure his downcast heart. The people to whom John had also preached were seeing God’s kingdom at work. More than that, however, the work Jesus did as those disciples watched matched specifically several Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah that John, in his wisdom, would know by heart.

When Jesus talked of making the blind see and the deaf hear, John could recall Isaiah 35:5. When Jesus spoke of sharing the good news to the poor, John would hear the echo of Isaiah 61:1. When Jesus talked about raising the dead, John could quote Isaiah 26:19. Each and every one prophesied about the coming Messiah.

You see, as John sat in the filth of that prison, he needed to be reminded of the servant Messiah’s true nature. Jesus loved and cared for the people and proclaimed the good news to them, building upon the repentance John preached. In all he did in that moment, coupled with the references to Old Testament prophecies, Jesus validated John’s good work of preparing the way for God’s anointed. Jesus was exactly who John thought he was. He did those things that John, in his heart, knew the Messiah was called to do.

In the prison of our discouragements, whatever they may be, we need to take our worries to Jesus. To find truth in the answers to all of life’s questions embedded in God’s word. To remind ourselves of all Jesus has done for us and for those around us. To see his work and the impact that work made in our lives and the lives of others. To have our lives, our faith and our work validated through the grace God offers to all of us. Going to Jesus in prayer and studying his word helps us see past the bars of whatever prison in which we we’ve locked ourselves.

At the end of his message to John, Jesus offered an encouraging and kind rebuke to his kin. He told those two disciples to tell John, “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” Here’s what I think that meant to John, and, by extension, what I think it means to you and me.

Jesus says, “I’m the one. If you’re questioning that, don’t. Don’t look for anyone else. Just don’t lose faith just because I’m not doing things the way you think I should or because things aren’t going your way. Just be who you were called by God to be. Trust my will and my way.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? In the middle of our discouragement and doubt, we want God to do things the way we think he should. Fit him into our Messianic mold. That’s never the right answer to the troubles that eat at our souls.

I keep going back to that verse in John where Jesus was trying to comfort his disciples at the reality of his sacrifice hit them square in the face.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

“Take heart. I have overcome the world.”

No matter what words old Screwtape is whispering in your ears, know this. With God’s victory guaranteed, no mess we find ourselves in can separate us from his love and grace.

In the middle of our discouragement, we can find peace and take heart in who he is and what he is doing in our lives. And if our prayers seem unanswered, if our lives have taken that unexpected turn as John’s did, we need only to take our fears to Jesus. He is the one. You don’t need to look for anyone or anything else.

“Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” I Corinthians 15:58)

I think John would say amen to that.

Why Mary? Why Joseph?

Background Passages: Luke 1; Matthew 1:18-24; 2 Timothy 1:9-10a; Galatians 4:4-5

Because I grew up in church, the Christmas story is a familiar one. It never ceases to amaze me how the story never grows stale or repetitive when I let God speak through his word. After Thanksgiving, my study and thoughts turned to Christmas. When I read again the familiar story, I thought “Why Bethlehem?”

God used Bethlehem to remind me that he can use the most insignificant among us to point the world to Jesus. He used Bethlehem to remind me that I cannot be caught sleeping and miss the opportunity to see God at work through Christ. To be Christ at work.

I read the passage in Luke again this week. A new thought jumped out at me. God could have chosen anyone to give birth to his son. Why Mary? He could have chosen any man to step in as Jesus’ earthly father. Why Joseph?

While I’ll never presume to fully understand the mind of God, think with me.

The birth of Jesus Christ was not a plan thrown together at the last minute when God suddenly realized his people had abandoned him. While the primordial ooze was still solidifying throughout his universe, the omniscient Creator set in motion a plan to redeem his creation, destined by his gift of free will to go its own way. The baby in a manger, who would be the savior on a cross, was always the centerpiece of that pre-existent plan.

Paul proclaimed it in his second letter to his protégé Timothy.

He has saved us and called us to a holy life, not because of anything we have done, but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our savior, Christ Jesus… (2 Timothy 1:9-10a)

God knew when to hatch his plan. He knew he had to wait until just enough of the world was ready to listen with open hearts and minds; ready to receive the gift he would send at that perfect moment in time to redeem those who recognized what he was doing through Jesus Christ.

When the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. (Galatians 4:4-5)

I can almost see the Creator staring into the future in search of the woman who would bear the part of himself that would become the salvation of the world. There must have been thousands upon thousands of suitable women to consider as the mother of God’s son.

One might expect his eyes to fall on a woman like Elizabeth with impeccable credentials from a line of ancestors descending from one of Israel’s patriarchs. A woman married to a prominent rabbi, a man of wealth and influence. Scripture tells us Elizabeth was “righteous in the sight of God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and requirements of the Lord.” (Luke 1:6) He didn’t choose Elizabeth…or anyone like her for that matter.

Instead, his scrutiny extended beyond the time of the law and prophets, into the time of the Roman occupation until it settled on Mary, Elizabeth’s cousin, a young woman without prominence…from a town with no consequence…in a country of little significance.

So, why Mary?

Certainly, the plan had been laid out for centuries as Paul tells us in Galatians. God pegged her from the beginning. To let us know who he had chosen, God’s prophecies described her in detail. The mother of the Messiah would be a virgin living in Nazareth with a reason to give birth in Bethlehem. She would be descended from David and married to someone from the same Davidic line.

Mary checked off all the boxes laid out in scripture for the mother of Christ, but Luke tells us the real reason she was chosen. When God scanned the future and his eyes settled on Mary, she simply found “favor with God.” The prophecies stood only as the backstory he created to validate his choice.

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God.” (Luke 1:26-30)

Did you hear it? Did you hear the reason? Before the world began, the Creator’s all-knowing eyes and heart scanned the future and he saw Mary and he liked what he saw in her. He favored her. The Greek word for favor found in these verses is charin. It can also mean favored for this cause, for a purpose.

When God saw Mary, he saw her as someone he could call to serve for the specific purpose he had in mind. He chose to extend his favor to Mary by being with her. (The Lord is with you.) Making his presence known. Standing with her throughout the difficult life to which he called her as the mother of God’s son.

Why Mary? What did God see in her that made him want to extend his favor to her. I think you find it in her response after hearing the news shared by the angel. After the angel told her of her Holy Spirit induced pregnancy and that the child born would be the Son of God, the Messiah, and that his kingdom would know no end, Mary’s response revealed her heart.

After the initial shock wore off and with the soothing reassurance offered by the angel, hear the obedience and trust in her response.

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” (Luke 1:38)

The Creator God who sees the end from the beginning chose Mary long before the prophecies were uttered because of the depth of her faith and her willing heart. She was the right woman in the right place at the right time with enough faith to be open to God’s call…willing to let him be at work in her life.

Hang on to that thought. We’ll come back to Mary in a moment. Now, consider this.

Why Joseph?

When God first found Mary in his search through the future of humanity, he found her pledged to be married to Joseph. Like Mary, Joseph held no position of power or wealth. He lived an ordinary life, devoid of the prestige one would expect as the father of the Messiah.

Watch how he responds to Mary’s unexpected news.

Mary tried to explain the unexplainable when she shared the shocking news of her pregnancy with Joseph. When he could not imagine the unimaginable, Joseph could have subjected her to public disgrace and even had her stoned to death. However, he never seemed to seriously consider those options.

A righteous and honorable man, Joseph instead decided to handle things privately. Desiring to avoid making Mary an option of ridicule, humiliation and gossip, he chose a quiet divorce.

In Joseph’s private intentions, spoken only in his heart before his head hit his pillow that night, God saw in this simple carpenter the strength of character and unmeasured grace he needed in the one he would choose to be the earthly father of the Son of God. God saw in Joseph a man of compassion, humility, faithfulness and mercy. Characteristics Jesus would see modeled by his earthly father as he grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man. (Luke 2:52)

While scripture doesn’t say it this way, I think Joseph found favor with God…just as Mary did…just as Jesus would someday experience. That’s why God sent his angel to ease Joseph’s mind.

But after he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins”…When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary as his wife. (Matthew 1:20-21, 24)

I hope you see the same obedience, faith and willing heart that I see in Joseph when he woke up the next morning. He no longer doubted Mary’s experience. He heard the same words of comfort she heard, telling him to have no fear of what the future holds. No second-guessing God’s purpose. No second-guessing God’s plan. He just willingly accepted in faith and obedience the role God asked him to play.

So, we look at this couple and ask why?

Why Mary?

Why Joseph?

Mary and Joseph go down in history as simple, ordinary, everyday people through whom God chose to do an extraordinary thing. He chose them because he saw something in them that let him know they were strong enough to handle the difficult role of being the parents of his only son. They had the choice to say yes or no to the call. He chose them because they made themselves available to the will of God in their lives. Willingly and without reservation.

He did the same for all of us. Before time began, he looked into the 21st century and identified me and you and set aside the work he wanted us to do.

We aren’t called to raise the Messiah from the cradle to the cross, but we are called to raise him up through the power of the testimony of what he has done in our lives. To do the things he has called us to do with the same faith, obedience and willing heart demonstrated and modeled by Mary and Joseph.

So, the question is less about why Mary or why Joseph? Here’s the question that matters.

Why you?

Why me?

Whatever he’s called us to do, it was important enough for God to set it before us. Let’s be faithful in the doing. Willingly and without reservation.

Fan or Follower?

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-24; Luke 5:1-11; Matthew 4:18-22 and Luke 16:25-26

It’s baseball playoff season. I think I’m finally over the baseball strike of 1994-95 and find myself watching the games again with interest. I know. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.

It’s also the middle of the college football season and I love to watch college football.

I am a fan of the Houston Astros. I enjoy watching their games and I might even do a fist pump when they win. I rarely lose sleep if they blow the game in the ninth inning. I’m a fan of the Houston Astros.

I am a follower of the Texas Tech Red Raiders. I wear the shirt. I watch the games. I celebrate when they win. I will toss a pillow and lose hours of sleep with every defeat. During the week, I’ll check out a few Red Raider websites to get a perspective on last week’s game. I’ll read about the players and coaches. I’ll fret over next week’s game. Cut me and I’m pretty sure I bleed scarlet and black. I am a follower of Texas Tech.

Jesus talked a little about being a fan or being a follower.

Jesus and his disciples left the region of Caesarea Philippi after a brief retreat north of the Sea of Galilee. The deep discussion elicited a confession from Peter who declared the understanding of his heart.

While looking at the throng of people milling about that pagan city, Jesus asked those with him what the people were saying about him after almost three years of ministry.

The disciples shared a few names as if the rumors were laughable.

“Some say John the Baptist. Others say Elijah. Still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” (Matthew 16:13-14)

Then, Jesus asked the question he really wanted to ask.

“But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

While the others stared blankly at the ground, Peter declared with strength of conviction,

“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:16)

With that confession, Jesus gathered his disciples and began the journey back to Galilee, but the dialogue didn’t get easier. The teaching grew more intense as Jesus began to talk more plainly about his death on the cross.

Peter didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. ‘Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!’

“Jesus turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.’

“Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:22-24)

It was those last two words that caught my attention this week. “Follow me.”

My church has been in a six-week long Bible study about discipleship. While family matters have kept me from attending every session, I have kept up with the study.

I underlined these words in the study guide. “Following Jesus is a serious, weighty calling. Taking up our cross means putting to death our desires and goals and following Jesus wherever he leads. Christians are supposed to look increasingly like Jesus.”

When Jesus told his disciples to take up the cross and follow him, it wasn’t the first time they had heard the call to follow.

At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus spent the early morning talking with a crowd that followed him down the coast of the Sea of Galilee. He came across a group of fishermen cleaning their nets after an unsuccessful night on the water where the fish were nowhere to be found.

Jesus climbed into Peter and Andrew’s boat and asked them to push off a few feet from shore so the water would add its acoustic effect to his voice.

“When he finished speaking, Jesus said to Peter, ‘Put into deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ Peter answered, ‘Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But, because you say so, I will let down the nets.

“When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. …When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, ‘Go away from me, Lord, I am a sinful man!’ For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.”

Then, combining this passage with what we read in Matthew 5, Jesus said to Peter, Andrew, James and John, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of me.” (Luke 5:1-11 and Matthew 4:18-22)

There’s the phrase again, “Follow me.”

He said the same words to Matthew when he called him from the tax collector’s booth. To Phillip when he pulled him from a crowd. He said the same words to a rich, young ruler after he told him to rid himself of all the material things that stood between him and Jesus. “Follow me.”

I suspect they were words he extended in every conversation shared and every invitation given. “Follow me.”

What is behind this idea of following Jesus?

The Greek word akoloutheo gets translated in most versions of the Bible as follow, but it has a broader range of meanings. It can mean accompany, assist, pursue or attend. So, if the word can also mean assist or pursue, for instance, Jesus was not calling people to simply tag along. He called for personal engagement.

Akoloutheo is written in present tense meaning the action is in the here and now and its voice is active. So, when Jesus calls his people to follow, he means they are to do so in every moment of life. It is something they are to do. They can’t send someone to do it for them.

Jesus didn’t want his disciples to just listen and believe in him from a distance. He invited them to draw near, to join him, join and commit to the mission. Jesus wanted his disciples to be fully engaged with him in both learning and doing the work of God.

From the beginning of their call to the critical times near the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry, Jesus asked them to follow.

Think about what that meant for those first disciples. From the moment they began their journey with Jesus he taught and trained them. He sent them to preach as he preached. He asked them to serve those with great need. He prepared them to continue his work after his ministry was completed. He expected them to spread the gospel throughout the world.

Jesus is still inviting you and me to be his disciples. His followers. To personally join him, learn from him, and help him in gospel ministry. There is nothing passive about being a follower of Christ.

Timothy Keller founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, put it this way, “Jesus says, ‘I want you to follow me so fully, intently, so enduringly that all other attachments in your life look weak by comparison.’”

We can’t be a disciple or difference maker until we are willing to deny ourselves…to set aside the life that matters to us and pick up the life that matters to God. To put God on the throne and make him Lord of our life. To make Christlike living our passion.

We can’t be a disciple or difference maker until we are willing to take up our cross. We tend to trivialize Jesus’ death on the cross if we think this term means simply facing stoically the difficulties of life that all experience, whether a follower of Christ or not.

It speaks to the complete obedience and devotion to the cause of Christ, no matter where it leads. To yield our hearts fully to his. After asking them to take up the cross and follow, Jesus spoke to the eternal value one gains by following him.

“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Luke 16:25-26)

Jesus tells them that nothing in this life is worth keeping if it means missing out on eternity. So, when we deny ourselves and take up our cross all that’s left is to invest our lives completely into the kingdom of God. To follow.

New Testament theologian Scot McKnight put it this. way, “Those who aren’t following Jesus aren’t his followers. It’s that simple. Followers follow, and those who don’t follow aren’t followers. To follow Jesus means to follow Jesus into a society where justice rules, where love shapes everything. To follow Jesus means to take up his dream and work for it.”

I’m a fan of the Houston Astros. I’m a follower of the Texas Tech Red Raiders. But, there is more at stake than my athletic affiliations.

If I’m a fan of Jesus Christ, I might profess my faith in comfortable settings. I might toss a few dollars into the offering plate when it’s passed. I might even listen to a sermon or two. If I’m a fan of Christ, however, I am rarely personally invested in the work, sacrificing little time and energy for the cause of Christ.

If I am a follower of Christ, I cannot just passively believe in him. Being a follower is all about digging deeply into his teachings. Understanding how Jesus reacted to different situations in life. It is all about imitating him, his example and his works. It is all about being Christlike. It’s all about being a difference maker.

When you get right down to it, the question Jesus asked his disciples in Caesarea Philippi may have been as basic as that.

Will you be a fan or a follower?

It’s a decent question for us to answer.

In Hot Pursuit

Background Passages: Psalm 23:6; Exodus 33:15:16, 34:5-7

The passage was a familiar one.

The pastor delivering the message at the sweet memorial service for my daughter-in-law’s grandmother this week drew his words from Psalm 23.

“The Lord is my shepherd…”

You can probably quote the rest. Yet, for hours after the service, one verse from that familiar Psalm kept repeating in my heart.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” Psalm 23:6

I don’t know about you, but I’ve learned over the years that when a Bible verse keeps coming to mind long after I first heard it, it’s time to stop and give it some thought. To let God teach me one of his life lessons.

So, I did what I usually do when I want to learn something more about anything. I googled it.

Looking first at Psalm 23:6 in other translations, I found the English Heritage Version of the Bible writing the verse in this way.

“Surely God’s goodness and his unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life.”

I like the clarity of this translation. It’s God’s goodness and unfailing love that follow me. I like it because not everything we experience in life is good. Life is not for the fainthearted. I’m reminded of the refrain sung by Grandpa Jones on the old variety show Hee Haw, right before he delivered his spit-filled raspberry in the face of the show’s guest.

Gloom, despair and agony on me.
Deep dark depression, excessive misery.
If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.
Gloom, despair and agony on me.”

The verse though doesn’t speak about good things following me. It speaks to God’s goodness chasing after me every day of my life. Intriguing, isn’t it?

In Hebrew, the word translated goodness is radaf. It means to run after, to track down as a hunter might track its prey. To pursue and take captive. It conveys an idea of God, the Good Shepherd of the Psalm, being in relentless pursuit of his sheep with the truth of his goodness and unfailing love…his gift for every day of our existence.

So that led me down another Google trail. What is God’s goodness?

When Moses climbed off Mt. Sinai with those tablets of commands from God, he walked into the middle of a pagan celebration where God’s people were cavorting around a golden calf they had fashioned. An idol to worship. Neither Moses nor God were amused.

Hours later, Moses entered the Tent of Meetings and had a deep dialogue with God. God was ready to wash his hands of the unfaithful and ungrateful people of Israel. He told Moses, he would send them on to the land he promised, but he (God) would not be present with them. Moses understood this as the kiss of death for his people. He pleaded on behalf of the people for God to stay present among them, reminding God, as if he needed reminding, that they were his chosen people. Look at Exodus 33:15-16.

“If your presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?” (Exodus 33:15-16)

Being pleased with Moses, God promised to do what Moses asked. Moses asked a lot. He asked God to reveal to him the “glory of God” and God agreed to do so.

“And the Lord said, ‘I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.’” (Exodus 33:19)

Did you catch it. “I will cause my goodness to pass in front of you…” Moses would have the opportunity to see God’s goodness up close and personal. Jump to Exodus 34:5-7.

“Then the Lord came down in a cloud and stood there with him and proclaimed his name, the Lord. And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, ‘The Lord. The Lord. The compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin…”

And, in those words we see that God’s goodness is more than just an attitude or act. It is his very nature. His goodness stems from his core identity. His goodness is wrapped up in the fact that he is Lord. Compassionate and gracious (The same Hebrew root word that gives us “unfailing love.”). His goodness comes with the attribute of being patient and not easily angered, filled with love and faithfulness to his people. Steadfast in his care for his people. Constantly forgiving our shortcomings.

It is this character of God that Moses saw as it passed by from where it had been tracking him down throughout his life.

So, let that marinate for a moment. In a dark time in Moses’ life, God caught up with him. Let his goodness pass before him so Moses could see and feel God’s goodness around him. The Psalmist had experienced God’s goodness and unfailing love so much and so often that he was confident it would “surely” and relentlessly pursue him throughout his days.

There is something about that idea that brings a great deal of comfort to my life in this moment. His goodness is running after me. Chasing me down. Tracking me. Hunting me. In hot pursuit. Taking me captive so I cannot get far away from it. Passing in lock step before my eyes.

Man, did I need to be reminded of this.

I think back over the last year of my life. My son’s stroke. My sister-in-law’s harsh diagnosis of cancer. I must admit that I have been shaking my fist toward heaven and I’m only on the outside looking in at these life circumstances. Why them? Why now? Where were you? Where was your goodness in those moments?

I watch as my son deals with his circumstances with strength and faith, amazed at his dogged determination and grace under a difficult situation. It’s as if God is whispering to me, “See my goodness pass before you? See it in Adam’s response to life.”

I watch the strength of Micki’s faith in dealing with all that life has thrown at her, inspired by the rock-steady trust he places in God, so evident in this her darkest time, as it has been throughout the entirety of her life. I hear God whisper, “See my goodness as it passes before you? See it in Micki’s response to life.”

Through their character and faithful living in circumstances that might shake most of us to our knees, I see God’s goodness and unfailing love pass by. His goodness is never far away from them, from me or from you. It was and remains in dogged, relentless pursuit, always around us throughout our days, just as it has always been.

I remember seeing a post on Facebook this week of Cece Winan’s rendition of The Goodness of God. I didn’t open the post the first time I saw it, but it kept popping up. When I saw it again Friday, I clicked the link and listen to this talented artist celebrate the very thing I needed to hear.

“I love you, Lord.
Oh, your mercy never fails me.
All my days, I’ve been held in your hands.
From the moment that I wake up
Until I lay my head,
I will sing of the goodness of God.
Cause all my life you have been faithful.
All my life you have been so, so good.
With every breath that I am able,
I will sing of the goodness of God.”

The writer and composer of this beautiful song entered a bridge that speaks to God and his goodness in relentless pursuit of his children.

“Your goodness is running after, running after me.
With my life laid down, I surrender now
I give you everything.”

There’s the crux of it. Buried in the bridge. We see God’s goodness only when we lay down our lives in complete surrender to his will and give him everything…every part of our lives. Everything.

I stand only on the outside of the issues facing my son and my sister-in-law, watching them both respond in faith to all that life has dealt them. I am inspired by the strength of faith demonstrated by Adam and Jordan and Micki and Mark.

When I stop long enough to see how God continues to carry them through, I see God’s goodness pass by. It has not been absent. It has not abandoned them or me. I was simply looking in the wrong direction.

Surely God’s goodness has been running after me…all the days of my life.

Can These Dry Bones Live?

Background Passages: Ezekiel 37:1-10; John 4:13-14, Isaiah 42:5

When my sons were children, we enjoyed visiting my parents on the 1,000 acres Dad farmed for much of his life. My boys loved going to the farm to visit their grandparents and to go on their “explores.”

Once they were old enough to be on their own, we told them they could wander the farm wherever they wanted to go as long as they could still see the house. In the broad reaches of the Texas South Plains, that gives two boys a fair amount of freedom.

My Dad kept about 20 head of cattle on a 30-acre grassland pasture, sloping down a modest hill. At the far end of the pasture was a playa lake. For those not accustomed to West Texas, a playa lake is a low spot in the surrounding countryside, typically dry, that collects run-off from those occasional West Texas rains. Most of them were formed when vast herds of buffalo that once grazed the grassland would wallow in the mud to cool down from the oppressive heat.

My boys would walk the pasture in search of artifacts they could collect. Usually, they would come back to the house with an odd collection of bolts, tin cans and rocks.

It was an exciting day, indeed, when they uncovered the dried bones of some long-dead rabbit, skunk or snake. They were most proud the day they returned with a cow’s skull that probably belong to poor Bessie who died at some point during my childhood.

If you spent any time at all walking in that dry playa lake, you could spot the bleached-out cow bones strewn across the dried lakebed by rain or coyote. A graveyard of white, dry, dusty bones.

Think Ezekiel.

For over 100 years, the Jews, the chosen people of God, endured captivity in Egypt. Through a series of miraculous events, God brought them into the Promised Land and gave them a home and a king. He made them a nation again. As they always seemed to do, Israel rebelled, turning against their heavenly father.

As a result, God allowed them to be conquered again. Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian horde invaded Israel. They defeated its army, reduced Solomon’s Temple to ashes, and took many of the Jewish people back to Babylon as captives.

The nation of Israel was dead, a valley of dried bones. God did not want them to stay that way. When our spiritual marrow is dry, God doesn’t want us to stay that way either. There is a lesson to be learned from Ezekiel’s experience.

“The hand of the Lord was one me and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and sat me in the middle of a valley. And it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great number of bones in the valley, bones that were very dry.

“He asked me, ‘Son of Man, can these bones live?’

“I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.’

“Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!’

“This is what the Sovereign Lord says to them, ‘I will make breath enter you and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin. I will put breath into you and you will come to life. Then you will know I am Lord.’

“So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked and the tendons and flesh appeared upon them and skin covered them, but there was no breath among them.’

“Then, he said to me, ‘Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, Son of Man and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says, ‘Come breath, from the four winds, and breathe into these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied the way he told me, and breath entered them, and they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.’” (Ezekiel 37:1-10)

The valley of dry bones in Ezekiel’s vision reflected the spiritual condition of God’s people. Their defeat at the hands of the Babylonians left them discouraged, down and defeated. In verse 11, they cried out to God saying,

“Our bones are dry. Our hope is lost and we ourselves are cut off!”

The hopelessness grew less from their current condition and more from the fact that they long ago lost their passion for the things of God. They were at the end of their rope, blind to the possibilities of what God could do for them. There was no future. Only a today, filled with misery and hopelessness.

Once so full of vitality and vigor, a picture of God’s presence and power, they took their focus off God. Did their own thing. Drifted away from the father. Their bones were dry.

It’s not unusual as God’s people to find ourselves in what feels like an endless spiritual desert…our faith feeling dry and lifeless. Most of the time, these dry spells don’t come out of nowhere. Circumstances beyond our control dry our bones, leave our faith parched. Choices we make that lead us into the desert, sap our souls of strength, making our trust in God waver and wither.

Sometimes, we get so busy doing things, even good things, that our worship becomes rote and routine, half-hearted and half-felt. Complacency overtakes us, leaving us thirsting for what we’ve lost. In times like these our prayers never seem to rise above the roof. We stare blankly at the pages of our Bible, if we open the pages at all. Our spiritual lives gather dust as the moisture is sucked from our marrow and our bones lay drying in the wilderness.

How closely does this match your life experiences? You look into your life and it’s messy. Every outcome you can see just adds to the confusion and hopelessness. Each wrong step leads to another. Whether caused by random chance or personal choice, it feels like everything has gone wrong. Now, you find yourself blind to the possibilities of what God can do. Your bones are dry.

When you look at your circumstance and all you see is an arid valley of dead, dry bones, it’s hard to imagine life beyond the desert. Hear God ask you the same question he asked Ezekiel. “Can these bones live again?”

What is your answer?

Ezekiel’s response was an honest one. “I don’t see how, but if there is any hope at all, it comes from you, God.” And, that’s as much as God needs to turn things around…just a glimmer of faith in his compassion and love. In the middle of the turmoil in our lives, can we say, “Lord, it’s up to you. I put my life in your hands.”

It is an act of surrender to the will of God. Easier said than done, I know.

God tells Ezekiel to preach a message to the dry bones…our dry bones. The first thing he asks the prophet to tell them…to tell us…is to “Hear the word of God.”

When we’re struggling, when our faith seems dry and stale, we need only to hear the word of God. I don’t mean just sit in the sanctuary while the preacher preaches. I mean really hearing what God is telling you. Listen and obey. When we’re spiritually thirsty, we need to swim in the water of God’s word.

“So then, faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17)

Jesus sat by a well in the heart of Samaria in deep conversation with a woman in need of living water. He told her,

“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)

God’s word gives life. It gives clarity. It gives peace. All we must do is listen and obey the will of the one who loves us enough to die in our place. Drink it in. Refresh our bones.

Ezekiel gives us one more thought to consider. Beyond hearing the full word of God, he tells us to allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives. It is the spirit of God who gives our dry bones breath. Listening to God’s word is a great start at bringing our bones together, but we need the spirit within us to bring us to life. It is the Holy Spirit who takes the word of God and gives it the power to give life to a broken heart and a struggling soul.

Allowing the spirit to live within us, lets God give us the chance to be a living instrument to share is grace and to be his hands at work in a hurting world. To be an oasis in a desert of dry bones.

“Thus says God, the Lord, ‘the creator of the heavens and stretched them out, who spreads out the earth and all that springs from it, who gives breath to its people and spirit to those who walk on it: I have called you to righteousness…” (Isaiah 42:5)

Breathe it in. Be right with God. Maybe it’s time to begin living again.

I believe that is a great word of encouragement for those who are struggling today to live out the life God has planned for them. Whether that person is you, me or someone you know. The answers lie in God’s word and in the presence of his spirit in the heart of those who believe and trust in Jesus.

Can these dry bones live?

I believe they can. I’m living proof.