Category: Faith

He Went Away Rejoicing

Background: Acts 8:26-40; Isaiah 53:7; John 3:16

Like many children who attend “big” church, Josiah sat each week during the sermon with a pad and pencil. Idly drawing pictures. Working a few math problems. And listening…far more than he seemed to be…to the sermon being preached.

Over the months, I saw him stop what he was doing on more than one occasion, his ears perking up at a particular point being made. Often, that moment of interest became the subject of probing questions asked to patient and understanding parents. An intelligent young boy, Josiah was hungry for answers.

My grandson toyed with his faith commitment for more than a year. His parents always stopping what they were doing to hear his conversation and let his mind and heart work toward his own decision.

We delighted in Josiah’s decision to accept Christ as savior two weeks ago and celebrated his baptism with him last Sunday, a special moment observed on his eighth birthday. We sat near the back of the worship center, but we could still notice the radiant smile that rose from the baptismal water. I would blame my teary response on allergies, but I don’t think you’d believe me.

This week, that moment reminded me of another new believer in the Bible, who came up from the water rejoicing.

In the days after the Holy Spirit came upon the believers, the early church began to grow in numbers. As it grew, the religious authorities began to crack down on those who professed a faith in the crucified and resurrected Jesus. The persecution caused hardship and misery.

Philip was one of the chosen. A servant and minister. One of seven deacons selected by the 12 to take care of the widows and those in need within the church. After Stephen, one of the seven, was stoned by the zealous Pharisees, many in the early church left Jerusalem, scattered here and there to avoid the coming persecution. Philip went north into Samaria. He preached boldly, leading many to Christ.

In the middle of his ministry in Samaria, Philip felt convicted by the spirit to head south, along the desert road toward the Mediterranean coast. Without knowing why, Philip obediently followed that call.

At the same time, a man from Ethiopia, a Gentile convert to Judaism, spent time in worship at the Temple. He’s described in scripture as a eunuch…and, yes, it means what you think it means. We also know he was a government official, a treasurer in the court of the queen. Trustworthy. Inquisitive. Sincere. Like Josiah, my grandson, hungry for answers.

It’s doubtful this man could have been in Jerusalem and not heard of the commotion surrounding Jesus. His arrest. His drumhead inquisition before Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate. His hasty conviction. His brutal crucifixion. And…the rumors of his resurrection.

The Ethiopian eunuch left Jerusalem with more questions than answers.

Along the way, the man leaned against the frame of the slowly-driven chariot, reading through the Book of Isaiah, the prophet. The words strange and confusing.

“He was lead like a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb is silent before its shearer, so He does not open his mouth. In his humiliation he was deprived of justice. Who can speak of his descendants? For his life was taken from the earth.” (Isaiah 53:7)

He read the words again. And again. No matter how many times he read the passage, its meaning escaped him.

“What are you reading?”

The Ethiopian looked up, startled at the question. Walking beside the chariot was a older man, dressed in a humble robe, dusty from days on the road.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Philip smiled, pointed at the scroll. “Do you understand what you’re reading?”

The man shook his head, still bewildered. “Honestly, no,” he answered. “How can I unless someone explains it to me?”

“Maybe I can help.”

The Ethiopian beckoned him to join him. Philip stepped lightly into the chariot. Reverently, the man placed the scroll in Philip’s outstretched hands.

“Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about? Himself or someone else?”

With that opening, Philip began to share the good news of Jesus, starting with the prophet’s own words.

The most beautiful story ever told unfolded between two strangers from different cultures, different social classes and different lands. The two men settled into a deep conversation. Questions asked and answered. Philip explained all that the prophets declared. All that had been fulfilled in Christ. All he had personally experienced. All he had heard and been taught.

Philip shared the message of grace and mercy of a loving God who worked through time to bring salvation to a lost and misguided world…a grace, not just for Jerusalem, but for Judea, for Samaria and for the ends of the world.

The Ethiopian man listened with an ear open to the words he was hearing and the spirit of God pulling at his heart.

When his soul could bear no more, the man held up his hand, stopping Philip mid-sentence. He pointed to a small oasis on the barren landscape less than a quarter mile in the distance. Its refreshing water shimmering in the afternoon sun.

“Look, here is water,” he said, “What can stand in the way of my being baptized?”

Philip’s grin stretched ear to ear. He clapped him on the shoulder, “Not a thing, my friend. Not a thing.”

The Ethiopian ordered his driver to stop the chariot. He and Philip dismounted and walked with purpose into the pond. With his confession of faith, the man looked at Philip with expectation. Philip bowed in prayer in joy and gratitude to God. Grateful that God had brought him to this place.

Taking the man in his arms, Philip lowered him into the water. As he brought him up again, the water streamed down the man’s face, mingling with tears of joy, his smile as radiant as the sun.

“And he went away rejoicing.”

It’s funny. I have a pretty good imagination. When I read stories like this in the Bible, I can close my eyes and see it happening in vivid color.

When I read this story again this week, I could see the ornate chariot, two Nubian men dressed in fine robes, joined by one who looked more like a Jewish shepherd. I can see them standing waist deep in a green, muddied pond, surrounded by reeds and brush. I see Philip lower this man into the water. I couldn’t, however, for the life of me picture this Ethiopian man as Philip lifted him out. I could not see his face.

All I could see in my mind’s eye was Josiah coming up out of that water with that smile on his face. You only see that kind of smile when someone truly understands what it means to be loved by God. Only when you’ve open the greatest gift ever given.

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

I saw the same look in his brother Eli’s face two years ago. The same smiles on the faces of my two sons decades ago. And, I suspect if I had a mirror before me in that baptistry in that little church in Ropesville, Texas, some 58 years ago, it would have been the same smile on my face.

I’m grateful  for Adam and Jordan, Josiah’s parents, for being his Philip. They were the ones who asked him, “Do you understand what you’re reading? Do you understand what you’re hearing?” I’m grateful that Josiah asked them to jump in the chariot with him. They were the ones who led him to make the most important decision of his life. I’m equally grateful for his older brother, Eli, who, by his own profession of faith, created a path for Josiah to follow.

I’m grateful for a pastor who preaches the gospel of Christ in truth and love in ways that even an eight-year-old can understand. I’m thankful for Josiah’s Sunday School teachers who taught those significant lessons that opened his eyes and heart. I’m grateful for my church who promises to love him and let him love them in return.

I am especially grateful that Robin and I have a new brother in Christ.

Worthy of the Call

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amen.

 

 

No Where Else To Go

Background Passage: John 14:23-27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy New Year

Background Passages: Isaiah 43:18-19; Philippians 1:4-6

Julius Caesar and his scholars got it all wrong back in 46 BC, when they put the emperor’s name to the Julian calendar. They did the math and calculated that the solar year lasted 365.25 days, To minimize the impact of that .25 days on the seasons, they added a leap day to February every four years to catch up again.

It turns out they shorted the solar year by 11 minutes. For the next 1500 years or so, those 660 seconds per year created havoc with the calendar, causing it to fall out of sync with the seasons.

That Easter no longer fell near the spring equinox concerned Pope Gregory XIII. Using his papal powers, he ordered Aloysus Lilius, an Italian scientist, to take another look in 1582. Under the Gregorian calendar, Lilius devised a slight variation that adds leap days in years divisible by four, unless the year is also divisible by 100. If that is not complicated enough, if the leap year is also divisible by 400, a leap day is added regardless.

When Pope Gregory XIII made his pronouncement, the world was slow to adopt it. In 1752 the Parliament in Great Britain finally adopted the Gregorian calendar, advancing the calendar from September 2 to September 14 overnight. Protests erupted across London demanding their days back.

On the other side of the pond, however, Benjamin Franklin welcomed the change, writing, “It is pleasant for an old man to be able to go to bed on September 2, and not have to get up until September 14.”

If there was ever a year in which I could stand losing 11 days, it was 2020. It was nice this week to put last year in my rear-view mirror.

The pandemic and its wide-ranging impact on our lives, consumed our thoughts over the past 12 months…and three hours. It certainly tested our faith. I have to admit, I let the weirdness of the year get the better of me at times. Every time it did, it seemed God found a way to remind me of his presence and his love. I’m grateful we worship a God who is bigger than circumstance.

It is fast becoming one of my favorite verses in the Bible throughout the year. However, at the beginning of each new year, it is especially meaningful.

“Forget the former things: do not dwell on the past. See! I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

God spoke those words to Isaiah in the middle of his promise of restoration to the exiled and enslaved Hebrew people.

Hear the excitement in God’s voice as he tries to revive the broken hearts of his people. “See! I am doing a new thing!” It’s as if he is saying, “Look! Wake up! Don’t hang your heads! Look at the exciting things in store for you in the year ahead! I’m getting ready to rock your world! Can’t you see it?”

Maybe you found the past 12 months filled with pain, uncertainty, heartbreak and grief. Maybe you felt disconnected and alone. Maybe you realize you walked a path of your own choosing that took you too far from God. Maybe, like me, you just feel…off…somehow. Just not quite right. Hear God’s word of encouragement. “See! I am doing a new thing!”

When we are wandering in our personal wasteland and wilderness, he reminds us with genuine excitement in his voice, “Have I got plans for you!”

Don’t let the chaos or the Covid-19 distort the reality of your relationship with your God who loves you. Focus on the new thing God is doing in your life. Open your heart to the possibility that this new thing he is doing will be the absolute best thing for your life, your heart and your soul.

If you doubt this promise for a minute, consider Paul’s greeting to the Philippian church.

“In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident in this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:4-6)

The God who began a good work in you will see it to its completion. He will never stop working in our lives. Not in 2021. Not ever. So as we look to this New Year, it’s out with the old and in with this new thing God is doing.

I don’t know about you, but that makes me look forward to what this New Year will bring.

And the good news is that, thanks to Aloysus Lilius, we will have another 26 seconds longer this year than we should for God to get it done.

Happy New Year!

Finding Hope Amid the Hopelessness

Background Passages: Psalm 31:24, Psalm 33:18, Romans 5:3, Isaiah 40:31, Romans 12:12, Jeremiah 29:11

If our coronavirus, racial-tense, economically stricken world has taught us anything, it’s that the things of this world will confound and confuse us, rust away and lose their luster, or fizzle out and fade away.

Maybe we can handled one or two of those things happening at the same time. When we are hit with a tsunami of negative news and issues seemingly without solution, the feeling of hopelessness can overwhelm us.

I’m a generally optimistic person and I admit I’ve felt it at times during the past five months. We wonder: “Will we survive this?” Or “When will this ever end?”

Two verses provide a message for our worrisome day.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” (Psalm 31:24) “The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him; on those who hope in his unfailing love.” (Psalm 33:18)

The verses beg the question. What is our source of hope?

Several years ago, psychologist Dr. Shane Lopez began to ask those he encountered what they meant when they talked about hope. To get the conversation started, he asked his friends and clients to take the Head-Heart-Holy test. It starts, he said, by asking the question, “Given your background and all life experiences, where does hope originate?”

The analysis determines whether one’s hope comes from one’s head (That which you believe and think you can control), heart (The emotions that respond to events and guide your actions) or whatever one finds sacred (the belief in God or some higher power at work). Lopez says that most people ascribe hope to the heart…a feeling that comes and goes depending on life events and circumstances.

It seems to me if you’re dependent upon life circumstances as a basis of hope, much of your life will be spent in a frenzied foxhole, hoping to avoid what feels inevitable. For those of us who put our faith and trust in Christ, the origin of hope is found in a leap of faith, especially in the darkest times.

Growing up on a farm 22 miles from the nearest decent sized city, I took for granted the stars in the night sky. I remember looking up late at night and seeing the clear band of the Milky Way spreading across the night sky amid a universe of galactic pinpoints of light. After living almost all my adult life in the suburbs of Houston, it’s a rare night outside when I can see more than a handful of the brightest planets or star clusters.

Stars are amazing and beautiful, but you can only see them at night. The deeper the darkness, the brighter, and more plentiful, the stars.

The stars prove to be an interesting metaphor for Christian hope. We rarely call upon it in the light of prosperity and peace. We hold onto it, but don’t draw upon it. No, we discover hope in the dark night of adversity. Famed pastor C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “Hope is like a star. Often, we only see it when we are facing suffering.”

The point he was trying to make, I think, is that difficult times cause us to call upon our hope in Christ. Paul told the Roman church that the persecution they faced would eventually lead to hope.

“…We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3)

If we truly believe that God can find a way to bring about good even in the most difficult circumstance as he tells us in Romans 8:28, then the dark days of pandemic, turmoil and financial stress should elicit the hope within us. It is a trust that God is at work in our lives and in the world and that the final outcome, the final victory is his…and by extension…ours.

If suffering is a part of life, which our experience tells us it is, we get to choose whether or not it will overwhelm us. Our security comes from the one in whom we believe, not from our own feelings or emotions which tend to weaken our knees. The difference between the Christian’s response to trouble and that of one without Christ is hope.

This verse in Isaiah stands to me as one of the most uplifting and poetic passages in all scripture. It speaks to the natural outgrowth of Christian hope.

“…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

When fear and worry begin to gnaw at my soul, that verse echoes off the walls that seem to surround and trap me. I hear it and the difficult steps I have to take get easier, less heavy-footed. My whole demeanor and attitude change.

Troubled times have a season. They will come and go. Ebb and flow. My approach to the trauma of the day becomes one of joyous hope as I try to wait upon God to answer prayers. Yet, this is what is required of me.

“Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)

For most of those Dr. Lopez surveyed, hope was conditional, framed by the circumstances in which they found themselves or the people with whom they were surrounded. Our hope as Christians is not grounded on circumstance, people or our own personal choices. Hope is found in Christ alone. It is a refrain pronounced by Edward Mote, a 19th century London cabinetmaker turned minister. In 1863, he penned the words of one of the great hymns of all time.

“My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

“When darkness veils his lovely face,
I rest on his unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil.

“On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Hope shines brightest in the darkest storms. If your experiences in this messed up world give you a sense of foreboding, helplessness and hopelessness, know that God’s hope shines brightest in the darkest storm. He is the only solid rock in a quicksand world.

The hope we have is not based on circumstances, people, or even our own choices – hope is found in Christ alone. What a comfort this is to our lonely and hurting hearts! God is faithful and will not disappoint.

Rest your heart upon this word.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Somehow, that makes me feel better. May we all test positive for hope this week.

What Does the Lord Require?

Background Passages: Deuteronomy 10:12; Micah 6:8; Matthew 22:37-39

I find myself saddened and distraught by the events of the past week. The senseless death of George Floyd at the hands of a police officer who forgot what it means to “protect and serve” is unnerving on so many levels. The understandable protests demand desperately needed changes in our sense of justice for all people.

Of all the words spoken in the past week, this, it seems, is the core of my distress in these tumultuous times.

Every parent…every grandparent worries about the health and safety of their children and grandchildren. The worries never really end no matter how old those children or grandchildren might be. As a white man in American, one thing I’ve never really worried about is losing a son, daughter, grandson or granddaughter at the hands of a police officer. Never. It is, however, a burden too many of my African-American friends experience every day.

Positive change must come. Of that I’m certain. It must. However, the solutions are not easy. Nothing of magnitude ever is. The root causes run deep in a complicated and almost overwhelming flood of political, social, psychological, emotional and spiritual issues that won’t go away by burying our heads in the sand. Complicated and overwhelming as these issues may be, God’s world will never reflect his will for his people until we find the answers.

During the last 10 years of my professional life as superintendent in a public school system, I felt an enormous sense of responsibility. I taped on my desk in a spot visible only to me a card with one of my favorite Bible verses to remind me that every decision I made impacted a life somewhere. The card, from Micah 6:8 read,

“He has shown you, o mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Whether I was fully obedient to that challenge during my 10-year tenure is best left to God and to those I tried to serve, but I read that verse often as I struggled to make fair and equitable decisions.

In days like those in which we live today, I think this verse is a good starting point for all of us. It is the core passage of this study. It is a common theme of the Bible for a life lived by faith.

Freed from the oppression and slavery of the Egyptians, the Hebrew people followed Moses on a long march toward the promised land in Canaan. They experienced the parting of the Red Sea to escape an army intent on killing them. Water from a rock to quench their thirst. Manna from heaven to quell their hunger. A whirlwind to guide them by day and a fire to direct them by night. Miracles in the desert.

Despite all they had seen, despite all God had done for them, they grumbled. Then, on the threshold of the promised land, they blinked again, turning away from the one who brought them there.

Moses climbed the mountain to hear from God who provided for his people a code by which they could live. Ten commandments to govern their relationships with the Creator and with their fellow man. While he was gone, the Hebrew people took matters into their own hands and cobbled together enough gold to fashion an idol they could worship.

That act of rebellion led to another 40 years wandering and wondering in the wilderness.

At the end of that time, Moses again climbed the mountain to receive the word from God. God handed down the same commandments again. God’s will for all of us written on two stone tablets. Moses returned and stood before his people. He knew how hardhearted his people could be. He had seen them at their worst. Before reading to them the commandments of God, he tried to help them understand their responsibility under their covenant with the Father.

“And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to observe the Lord’s commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good.” (Deuteronomy 10:12)

We see those words for the first time. “…What does the Lord require of you?”

Hundreds of years later, the prophet Micah stood before the people of Israel who had once again charted their own course, living a life of rebellion and disobedience. They worship just about anything and anyone but God. Micah called upon them to repent. To turn back to God and their covenant with him. His instruction was clear and plain.

“…what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

The passages in Deuteronomy and Micah are remarkably similar. However, Bible scholars the English word “require” used in both passages are different words in the Hebrew language with different meanings. In Deuteronomy, the Hebrew word carries the idea of inquiring. It seems to say, “What does the Lord ask of you?” In Micah the word speaks to a mandate, a command. “What does the Lord demand of you.”

When I ask you for something, you have a choice. You can do what I ask or walk away. I look at the passage in Deuteronomy and I see God’s gift of free will at play. God asks that I fear him…hold him and his power in awestruck reverence, knowing that he is worthy of my praise.

God asks that I be obedient to his will. That I follow his lead throughout my life. To do what is right in his eyes, He asks that I love him and serve him with my total being. A complete commitment to his will and way that penetrates my heart and soul and guides my every action.

He asks those things of every one of us, but we have a choice to put our faith and trust in him or to walk away. He asks us to follow him, but he will never force us to do so. We have that free will choice.

The passage in Deuteronomy speaks to our relationship to God. It speaks to the internal change that occurs in our heart and soul when we open ourselves up to a relationship with God, the Father. We are to be transformed in heart and soul and deed.

Things change for us when we make that commitment. Once we place our faith and trust in him, God demands a certain standard of behavior toward others. This is not an option for a believer. If we call ourselves one of his children, he insists that our interactions with others reflect his character. He demands us to live a godly life. The word Micah speaks tells us how we are to embrace the world around us. It tells us how we are to act in relationship with one another regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, social level or life situation.

As a child of God we are required to act justly. In a general sense to be just is to be righteous. To do what is right in all things so that everything is as it should be…as God intended. To act justly then is to recognize our duty toward God with respect to our relationship to all others. That God calls us to “act justly” means we must see our fellow man as God sees him, according him the respect for his rights…his life, property and reputation.

I Peter 2:17 says we are to “honor all men.” In our relationship to others, we are to reflect the justice and righteousness of God. In every decision we make. In all that we do. We are to apply fairness and equality as the basis of our actions toward others.

It is not enough to talk about justice for all. It is not enough to call for the end of injustice. We can’t just give it lip service. God demands we act justly.

Similarly, it is not enough just to be merciful. To talk about mercy and forgiveness. We must love mercy. That’s taking our relationships to a whole, new level.

Mercy is the forgiveness and grace of God extended to us and then through us to those who have wronged us. Other passages in the Bible reinforce the thought.

“Be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ sake has forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)

“Forgive us our trespasses even as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (Matthew 6:12)

It is mercy, that Christian grace, that allows us to look at each other in love regardless of the circumstances between us. It is the recognition that each of us has been breathed to life by a God who loves us equally and without reservation. Mercy is an act of godly love expressed to all others through the words and deeds. Mercy is the compelling force of God’s love that enables us to act justly.

Finally, God demands that we walk humbly with God. To walk with God is to stay by his side throughout this life journey. To never stray from the path down which he is leading. To be obedient in all things.

To walk humbly recognizes our place. No one who encountered God in scripture walked away with an inflated sense of personal pride or power. All were humbled.

Moses took off his sandals and buried his face in the sand to avoid looking at the burning bush. Isaiah saw God and cried, “Woe is me!” Daniel had a vision of God and declared, “My beauty has turned to corruption.”

Humility is the Christian grace that makes one think of himself no more highly than he should. An attitude that does not allow one to consider himself better than another. We cannot simply declare ourselves humble. We must walk it. Live it. Be it. Sincerely and without guile.

It is the indwelling presence of the spirit of God that humbles us and gives us the servant heart and the loving eyes of Christ that made no distinction between Jew or Gentile, black or white, rich or poor. Humility is washing the feet of another. Feeding the hungry. Clothing the naked. Visiting the prisoner. Standing up for the oppressed. And it is essential to faithful discipleship.

Jesus sat with a questioning Pharisee who asked him to identify the greatest commandments. Jesus didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to analyze the pros and cons of each of God’s commands. His answer was immediate for these two governed all others.

“The most important,” Jesus answered, “is this one, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ And, the second is this, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Matthew 22:37-39)

The trauma of the past few days is real, especially for our African American friends who live it every day. Steps have been made over the years toward social justice, but it is an unfinished work. More must be done.

There are political and social answers to the issues that face our country. They are complex and difficult. Substantive changes in our country will not occur until we, as believers in Christ , comply with the demands of God to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with him.

The necessary changes will come only when we learn to love our neighbors as ourselves, regardless of their color.

It will not be easy because we are flawed people. The apostle Paul understood his nature and the nature of man.

“For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” Romans 7:18b-19

Paul also understood that despite his shortcomings he could not quit trying to live the life he knew God demanded of him. After 30 years in God’s service he wrote an encouraging word to the Philippian church. It is a word that resonates as I think of my responsibilities as a work in progress toward a more just world for all people.

“Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining for what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize to which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14

I press on to live a Christ-like, spirit-filled life. If enough of us do that, we change the face of justice in our country. Our desire to have our country be a place of social justice and equity is an unfinished and important work. We all have a role to play to make this the country God desires it to be.

Justice. Mercy. Humility. Let’s press on.

Dancing with God

Background Passages: John 10:10; Psalm 116:13-14, Deuteronomy 30:19-20; Psalm 30:11

Have you ever noticed how you can find connections in random things? I read four seemingly unrelated things this week and found a connection I’d like to share. I hope it make sense when I put it on paper. Let’s play connect the dots

Dot One

As a part of my devotional studies this week I read a passage out of John. It is a lengthy story that is a part of the “I am…” statements of Jesus.

The man, blind since birth, dipped his hands into the Pool of Siloam as he was instructed, carefully washing the mud ball from his eyes. After he had done so, “the man went home seeing.” His rejoicing captured the attention of friends, neighbors and Pharisees. Because it was the Sabbath, a quick investigation ensued, leading the religious elite to Jesus. After a bit of verbal wrangling, Jesus explained to them…

“I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”

John 10:10 is one of my favorite verses, hinting at a life Jesus promises all who put their faith and trust in him. It’s hard to explain that concept to one who doesn’t believe in Christ. When we try to live life on our own it is easy to get disillusioned and disoriented. The chaos that confronts us at every turn saps the life right out of us.

Life with Christ, on the other hand, becomes worth the pain of living. Our relationship to Christ brings with it the possibility of a new joy, a new vitality, in the face of life’s troubles…if we embrace it.

Hang on to that thought.

Dot Two

My uncle, the Rev. Leslie Lewis, is the pastor of a Lutheran church in a farming community near Lubbock. One of his published devotional thoughts this week talked about taking up the cup of salvation as described by the songwriter in Psalm 116.

Leslie wrote about taking up the cup. “That’s the nature of relationship. All we can do is take the cup. The cup being life, with all its circumstances as it comes to us. For God comes to us as our life.”

Think about that for a second. “God comes to us as our life.” Life is messy, isn’t it? Disordered? Chaotic? God with us amid the chaos.

We find ourselves in a global pandemic, restricted in what we can do and where we can go. Unable to reach out and touch those we love. Even in the middle of something as broad as this, the other burdens of living don’t go away. Fractured relationships. Missing paychecks. Poor decisions. Sickness. Misunderstandings. Life easily becomes unbearable and disorienting if we let it. It is relentless in its attack. Each day brings new burdens to face. Doesn’t sound all that abundant, does it?

Leslie continued, “Sometimes we see life coming at us and are tempted to pray as our lord did, ‘If it be possible let this cup pass from me.’ But the relationship with life demands we take the cup…take responsibility for what is coming to/at us. A loving relationship with God is no more than willingly accepting the cup; the person, the circumstance of life as an invitation to dance with God.”

I love that! “An invitation to dance with God.” Abundant living is not the absence of all the issues that life throws at us for this life we’ve been given to live is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. Nor is it hiding ourselves behind a veil of religiosity.

Leslie shared that we Christians tend to hide behind pious platitudes, made empty because we don’t live the truth buried deeply inside them. “God is in control.” “God will never give us more than we can handle.” When life has us in its talons, our heart is not in them. We live on the surface of our faith, not in its depths. Hide behind the curtain of pious living.

Jesus later said as much to the Pharisees.

“You hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First, clean the inside…” (Matthew 23:25-26)

Taking up the cup means embracing all that life holds and finding a way to dance our way through it with the Father. Leslie added, “Life is not for sissies. Those who only want to play it safe will never know the riches of his love.” Never know what it means to live the abundant life.

Hold on to this dot and let me take you to another.

Dot Three

I picked up a book this week from my personal library which I have not read in more than 45 years. Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxine Dunnam in 1973, is about the joy that comes in the present from living an authentic, Christ-filled life.

In her book, Dunnam argues that the thirst for real life is as old as creation itself. That God built within us the desire to experience life at its fullest…in abundance. In Deuteronomy, God, through Moses, tells the Hebrew people…

“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now, choose life so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life…” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Dunnam writes, “Here ‘life’ and ‘death’ don’t signify ‘existence’ and ‘nonexistence.’ Rather, they hold a promise that existence can be enriched and thereby become real life.” Authentic life. Abundant life. “You can have a dead life or a real life—one that is lived in confidence, hope and gratitude.” And, if we’re truthful, we’ve all known Christians who were the “walking dead,” those who allowed life to suck the joy out of their relationship to God. That’s not what God intended.

Like my uncle, Dunnam argues that Christians tend to cloister behind the walls of the church or wrap ourselves in the cloak of spirituality to avoid the hazards of the world. Dunnam says real life is not in the avoidance of problems, but in our dynamic relationship to God. Staying connected to him while facing the world as it comes and ministering through the problems and the pitfalls. Abundant life is God’s gift in the middle of the messiness of life.

God offers us the same as he offered the Hebrew children. Choose life! Choose abundance!

Dot Four

Real and abundant life is an experience. The work of God is making us real. In the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, written by Margery Williams, the worried rabbit is told by the wise old Skin Horse that it takes a long time to become real.

“It doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully made. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

God’s call to abundant living is a call to love and serve others. Those acts of service will often leave us with hair loved off, eyes dropped out and a little loose in the joints. You may look ugly in the sight of the world, but they don’t understand. God loves our mangy, bug-eyed shabbiness that comes from an abundant life of sacrifice.

Connect the dots

What does abundant life mean to me? It means desiring the fullness of life that only a relationship with God can provide. Willingly serving and loving others. It means embracing our cup…this life…as it comes with all its joy and despair…all its turmoil and tests…all its passion and grace. It means to choose this life…to love God, to listen to his words and hold tightly to him at all times. It means living a real, authentic faith evidenced by a cup as clean on the inside as it is on the outside. It means full joy and contentment in a relationship with a loving Father.

It means dancing with God.

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosened my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.: (Psalm 30:11)

Passion Week-Thursday: Never Alone

Background Passages: John 14:1-27; John 16:12-33 and John 17: 6-26

The events of the day were emotionally charged and brutally devastating. Though the day began easily enough for Jesus’ disciples, it would soon take a very different turn. They surely felt the ground was giving out from under them.

Their emotions were set on edge as Jesus washed their feet, teaching them about a servant’s heart and their need to love and care for one another…especially in the days ahead.

  • They reeled in shock as Jesus blindsided them with the idea that one of them would betray him…that others would abandon him.
  • Later in the day, they would grow weary in the garden, sleeping while Jesus agonized in prayer.
  • They would be startled awake by the torches and shouts of the temple guards as they arrested Jesus.

If they thought their world was tilting in the Upper Room, by midnight, their world had turned upside down.

As intriguing as each of those episodes are, I find myself captivated by the conversation Jesus shared with his disciples after their Passover dinner together. Knowing the inevitable outcome, this would be Jesus’ last chance to tell them what they needed to hear. To give them words that might protect and sustain them in the horror that was to come.

Put in the disciple’s sandals, what would you need to hear? What do we need to hear at a time in our world where it seems the ground around us is falling away? I found three things compelling in the dialogue between Jesus and his disciples.

Trust

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me.” Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:1, 27)

Jesus could sense the growing anxiety. He could see it etched on their faces. All this talk about Jesus going away made them fearful. For three years he had been their rock and a constant presence. Thomas vocalized what all were feeling. “We don’t know where you’re going so how can we know the way?” Jesus was still among them and already they were feeling lost and alone.

Jesus sought to reassure them, asking for them to trust God…to trust him…despite their misgivings and fears.

Never Alone

Jesus had led them every step of the way for years. They were unsure of their own ability. Unsure of what lay ahead. Unsure of what they were to do in his absence. Jesus promised them they would not be alone. That they would not forget all he has taught them.

“I will ask the Father and he will give you another Comforter to be with you forever—the Spirit of Truth. You know him for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans.” (John 14:15-16)

“All of this I have spoken to you while I was still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit who the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” (John 14:25-26)

Jesus followed up that promise as he continued to talk to them.

“I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of Truth, comes, he will guide you in all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you. (John 16:12-14)

The disciples have been told they need to carry on without his physical presence. Jesus would not be there for them to pose a question or seek clarification. How frightening must that have been? Yet, he told them. You are not alone and you need not worry. The Holy Spirit will be your companion and will remind you of everything you learned from me. That’s significant reassurance, even if they weren’t totally prepared to understand it.

Overcoming

Jesus tells the disciples they will face persecution and death if they continue to follow him and do the things he’s commanded them to do. His promise is that through the difficult times that lay ahead, they will have the Counselor and Comforter whispering in their ears just as if Jesus was present with them.

“Then the disciples said, ‘Now you are speaking clearly and without figures of speech. Now we can see that you know all things and that you do not even need to have anyone ask you questions. This makes us believe that you came from God.” (John 16:29-30)

It was the response from his friends that Jesus needed to hear. The response that gave him the lift he needed to press on to the work that lay before him.

“You believe at last!” Jesus answered. “…I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. Take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

Prayer

Finally, Jesus concludes the evening before heading out to the Garden of Gethsemane with prayer (John 17:6-19) asking God…

  • to bolster their faith and connection with God.
  • to protect them.
  • To grant them a full measure of the joy Jesus had in his heart.
  • To ground them in his word.

Though the days ahead would be dark and difficult for the disciples, the hard conversation with Jesus had the desired impact. For that moment, they were comforted and strengthened.

*****

There is something reassuring to me in this passage. There is comfort.

Trouble and turmoil are a part of life. It always has been. It always will be. Faced with so much uncertainty today, it is easy to become anxious. What does today hold for me and my family? What will tomorrow look like? How will we survive?

Jesus reminds us. Trust in God. Trust in him. He is faithful and he is in control. He is working in my life and yours…even today.

The same promise he made to his disciples is a promise he makes to us. We have a Counselor, a Comforter, with us today. Bringing peace, a contentment, solid in the realization that God is with us. He did not abandon us in our time of distress. If we seek him, he will remind us of all he has taught us, all he has said and all he needs us to know. We are not alone.

Whatever happens around us, this passage also teaches that the victory is already ours. The world cannot beat or break us. Trouble will come, but Jesus has overcome the world. So, it circles back around. Because he has overcome the world, we find the peace that only he can give. Rest in the middle of chaos.

Then, there is one final piece to this expansive narrative that ought to bring you hope in all things. After Jesus prayed for his disciples. He prayed for me. He prayed for you.

“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them will be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me… I have made you known to them and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.” (John 17:20-26)

That’s it! That’s amazing! The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is why we are never alone in the world no matter what surrounds us. The day before he went to the cross, Jesus was thinking of me. He was thinking of you. Praying that you and I would put our faith and trust in him so that we might be one…connected by grace with every believer and with God…to this day.

When you read that prayer, the cross becomes more than history. It becomes personal.

Freedom to Worship

Background Passages: John 8:31-32; Mark 12:28-31; Romans 10:13-14

The words of the Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights ought to inspire anyone with a pulse and a sense of history. Yet, we take these hallowed documents for granted, too often trying to bend them to match a personal perspective never envisioned by our country’s founders.

When you see the originals, written by hand on parchment and preserved behind glass in the rotunda of The National Archives, the effect is sobering. The dim, protective light made it difficult to read the 241-year-old words. Having to concentrate on the faded script only added to the power of the words written by men like Thomas Jefferson, George Mason and James Madison.

Every phrase I read spoke volumes, but one phrase kept coming to mind for hours afterward. On the original Bill of Rights, it is listed as the third amendment to the U. S. Constitution, the first two being rejected by Congress. That amendment, which subsequently became the First Amendment, said,

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

Any mention of religious freedom was left out of the original Constitution because most of the states had some form of state-supported religion…Maryland, New York, North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia sanctioned the Anglican/Church of England. Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire sponsored the Puritan or Congregational Church.

James Madison of Virginia, largely credited for writing much of the Constitution, led the charge to get the document ratified in his home state. He met serious opposition from Baptist pastor, John Leland, a determined advocate for freedom of religion and freedom of speech.

Madison campaigned to be elected as a delegate to Virginia’s convention to ratify the constitution. He vocally opposed any early amendments, fearing it would derail ratification. Leland pushed back, opposing ratification without an amendment guaranteeing basic freedoms.

Recognizing Leland probably had enough votes to defeat him, Madison agreed to introduce the Bill of Rights once the constitution was ratified if Leland would not run against him. Both men honored their agreement. Madison introduced the Bill of Rights on May 4, 1789, which was ratified by the states two years later.

The idea of religious liberty is still unique in the world. The Baptist Joint Committee on Religious Liberty (BJC) says that religious liberty is the “freedom to believe and exercise or act upon religious conscience without unnecessary interference by the government.” The idea gives one the freedom to practice or not practice religion of any kind.

Religious freedom is not without boundary. Some religions involve beliefs that conflict with other laws. In those cases, the courts must decide how to accommodate sincere religious beliefs while protecting the people’s interests, including shielding those who may not share the same religious beliefs.

The BJC puts it simply. “Do not ask government to promote your religion if you don’t want government to promote someone else’s religion; and do not permit government to hinder somebody else’s religion if you don’t want government to hinder your own religion.”

Leland wrote in the 18th century, “Government should protect every man in thinking and speaking freely and see that one does not abuse another. This liberty I contend is for more that toleration. The very idea of toleration is despicable. It supposes that some have a preeminence above the rest to grant indulgence, whereas all should be equally free. Jews. Turks. Pagans and Christians.”

There is growing evidence of intolerance in government laws and regulations toward the Christian faith that seem to “prohibit the free exercise” of religion. Leland and Madison, I believe, would argue against such intrusions. They would also argue against Christian leaders’ insistence of greater government support for the Christian faith.

Staring at the original Bill of Rights in its case on display in Washington, D.C., served as a great reminder of the original intent of the First Amendment. As much as I might believe the world would be a better place if we all lived as my Christian faith says we must live, I cannot insist that the government must push my beliefs on every citizen. As it concerns religion, government must remain neutral. It’s a fine line, I admit.

For me, then, my Christian imperative is far less political than spiritual.

Neither political nor moral law provides a path to salvation in Christ. Neither political nor moral law is a path to service in Christ. Calling ourselves a Christian nation doesn’t bring a single soul to saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.

The free exercise of our faith on a political level without demonstrating the love of Christ daily with those we meet is meaningless. It is not government’s responsibility to “make disciples of all nations.” It is my responsibility. It is the role of the church.

As the Pharisees claimed a political and moral superiority over Christ, he offered one of the most profound statements in response. He said,

“If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The truth is that Jesus came to free us from the eternal consequences of sin. To give us a path to everlasting life offered as a grace gift of God. That’s not political. It’s personal. God gave his son on a cross not that we might have a Christian prayer in schools or the right to post a copy of the Ten Commandments in a courthouse, but that we might experience life as God intended it to be lived. And that we might love and serve others in such a way as to draw them into a right relationship with Christ…to set them free as we are free.

I just get a feeling Jesus would be less worried about the political realities than he would these spiritual truths. The Pharisees were stuck in the law to exclusion of everything else. When a few of them came to Jesus to question him about paying taxes to Caesar and about their own internal arguments about religious matters, he tried to help them through their confusion. Finally, one asked him to name the paramount law or commandment.

Jesus kept it simple.

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

Nothing in the current political realm can keep us from having a relationship with Christ. Nothing in this political climate keeps us from loving others and finding ways to meet their needs. That’s what was ultimately important to Jesus. It ought to be what is important to me.

I don’t need government to restrict the faith traditions of others in order to advance the Christian faith. I must use my freedom as an American and my freedom in Christ to convince others of their need for him…revealing to them his love for everyone…by living the life God intended me to live…by meeting the needs of all I encounter.

I’m grateful to live in a nation, under the protection of the Bill of Rights, that guarantees our right to worship or not worship as we please.

I am more grateful to live in relationship with Christ, under the eternal protection of God, that enables me to share his grace with those who might not believe as I do. To serve others in such a way as to draw them to Christ.

Our only hope of being a Christian nation comes when those of us who claim the name of Christ share his love by word and example in such a way as to convince one person, then another, and then another, to freely accept the grace gift of God.

“For everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved. How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them.”

We will never be a Christian nation by law. We will become a Christian nation when hearts are changed and people embrace the freedom that comes from knowing Jesus Christ as savior.

It seems to me that’s religious freedom as God meant it to be.

When God is Silent

Background Passage: Matthew 15:21-28; Mark 7:24-30

It had been an emotionally brutal and tiring time in Jesus’ life. Opponents within the religious hierarchy grew more brazen and belligerent in their handling of Jesus. His popularity challenged their reputations and status with the people of Israel.

Jesus’ disciples struggled with their identity and understanding of his teachings. Inconsistent in their faith. Unsure of the nature of his “kingdom of heaven.” The people who followed him seemed more interested in his miracles than his message.

As he pressed through these things, Jesus received word that John the Baptist, his cousin and the man who so beautifully set the stage for his ministry, had been beheaded at the order of the regional governor. A foreboding reminder of the inevitable outcome of his own life.

Jesus bore the weight of his responsibilities, emotionally and physically spent by the constant demands on his spirit and his time. Jesus needed to get away with his disciples to recharge his batteries and spend a little more time teaching them, opening their eyes to the needs of the Gentile world.

Perhaps that’s the reason he journeyed northwest of Galilee to Sidon and Tyre, a region he rarely traveled. Mark tells us he spent some time in the home of someone he evidently knew…a place where he hoped to find some privacy without the press of the crowd and the pernicious power plays of the Pharisees.

Along the way a Canaanite woman, a Gentile from the area, came to him with a serious problem. Her daughter was sick, suffering terribly from demon possession. The young mother pleaded with Jesus, begging for mercy from the “Son of David,” a popular, political title. She recognized him initially only as a great man of power. Her last hope.

What happens next is unexpected and unusual. The woman calls out to Jesus for mercy and healing…and he ignores her. Scripture says,

“Jesus did not answer a word.”

He continued walking to his destination while the woman continued to follow and beg. Jesus remained unmoved. The verses make us uncomfortable. This is not the Jesus about whom we want to read. The man we’ve seen touch without fear an unclean leper. The man who placed compassionate hands on the eyes of a blind man. That same sensitive and empathetic miracle worker that we know seemed to turn his back on a woman crying out in need.

Despite his silence, the woman stayed after Jesus. So persistent was her pleading that the disciples grew impatient and irritated. “Heal her or don’t,” they seemed to say to Jesus. “Just get rid of her. She’s getting on our nerves.” The implication…she’s not one of us.

Jesus finally speaks. What he tells the disciples, likely overheard by the Gentile woman, seems even more harsh than his silence.

“I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The words imply that because the woman is not Jewish, Jesus is not responsible for her need. He has no role to play in this life episode. And, we grow more uncomfortable by his apparent disregard.

Finally, Jesus arrives at the house that was his intended destination. Despite his earlier comment, the woman followed Jesus, still asking for his intervention to save her daughter. The woman didn’t let a doorway stand as an obstacle. She came into the room with Jesus, knelt at his feet. With tears flowing down her cheeks, she cried,

“Lord, help me!”

There is a change in her address and her demeanor. Jesus’ silence and his statement of God’s purpose and plan, the conceptual became reality. “Lord,” she cried. No longer political and popular, but a clearer understanding of the true nature of God’s son. Humility took her to her knees in reverence and worship.

The lessons didn’t end there as Jesus continued to teach. He wanted her to fully embrace this new relationship by challenging her cultural perspectives…by challenging the cultural perspectives of his disciples.

“He replied, ‘It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”

No! He didn’t just say that, did he? The Jews’ hatred and prejudice toward any Gentile ran deep. To call a Gentile a “dog” was the pejorative term of the day. An insult of deepest intent. If you weren’t feeling uncomfortable yet, you probably are now.

Thankfully, the true meaning gets lost in our translation. The word Jesus used for “dog” is not the same word interpreted as “cur,” the slanderous meaning used by Jews toward most Gentiles. The term Jesus used is a word that speaks of a puppy, the beloved family pet who was fed from the family table.

I’m betting the woman’s ears picked up on the difference. I’m betting the disciples did as well. She heard his gentle, teasing tone. Saw the light dancing in his eyes. The grin on his face. A playful smile of understanding now on her face, she responded lightly in kind.

“Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

This woman recognized what I often fail to see. Any mercy from a loving God is good grace. She knew that a crumb of grace from Jesus would be life-changing for her daughter. She would not rest until she received even a small portion of his loving mercy.

Jesus reacted to her words with great joy.

“’Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.’ And her daughter was healed from that very hour.”

What I’ve come to realize over my lifetime of study is that Jesus never did anything, never went anywhere without a purpose. So in touch was he with the will of his father that nothing surprised him. For example, Jesus once ignored the normal route to Jerusalem by cutting directly south through Samaria. He did so not to save a few steps from a long journey. He did so knowing he would encounter a woman at the well in need of the living water only he could give.

I believe he went to this knowing he would encounter someone along the way who needed his touch. Maybe he didn’t know exactly who would come, but he knew someone would reach out to him. I believe he went to this place to open his disciples eyes to the possibilities of a broader ministry beyond their personal boundaries.

Nevertheless, Jesus did not react to this woman the way he reacted to others who came to him. Jesus wasn’t just having one of those bad days where he didn’t want to deal with anyone. That’s too much…well…too much like me.

We certainly aren’t to just excuse his behavior and write it off as we whisper to one another, “You know, he’s dealing with a lot in his life. We should cut him some slack.” Jesus, the perfect representative of God’s love on earth, didn’t get annoyed like that. That wasn’t who he was at any time of his life on earth.

If his response seems so out of character, there must be a reason. What could make Jesus behave this way?

Let me offer a thought.

As with most of his encounters, Jesus asked questions or led a challenging conversation, or gave a look that required people to scrutinize their own beliefs. To see their relationship to God through a different lens. This woman, and his disciples, needed that lesson.

I see Jesus’ response to the Canaanite woman in the same light. His silence was disconcerting to her. Made her uncomfortable as it would make us. Jesus needed her to look inside her heart to find a true faith. He needed her to understand who he truly was so she could get the most out of this relationship.

The woman had a choice when met with Jesus’ silence. She could have walked away angry. “He doesn’t care.” “He’s not the man I hoped he would be.” “He doesn’t love me.” It’s a natural reaction of the brokenhearted. When my prayer seems to get no response from God, I tend to sit around, impatiently drumming my fingers on my Bible, muttering under my breath, “You promised to”…”You said you would”…always wondering why he is not responding to my petition.

The delay in God’s response, his silence, is sometimes only because my faith needs to catch up to my situation, giving me time to align my will with his. I can’t do that if I walk away from the conversation.

Jesus wanted this Canaanite woman to think about her request. To think about what she was asking of him. To explore her motivation. To reflect on why her heart was calling out to him and why it was telling her this was the man to see. Jesus’ silence made her think and dig more deeply into the relationship she was seeking with him. He was giving her time to let her faith catch up to her need.

Jesus eventually broke his silence, but his response was not what she wanted or expected. Jesus reminded her and his disciples that his God-given purpose was to bring salvation to the Jews first. To fulfill God’s covenant with his people. His disciples were destined, however, to play a different role. They needed to see it modeled in front of their eyes.

Again, it would be out of character for Jesus to turn her away because she was not Jewish. It was as if he was telling her, “Think! This is who I am. What is it you really desire? What will it take for you to understand me.

The woman could have walked away in anger again at this point. “You’re not going to help because I’m not Jewish? Really? Fine, forget you!” Her growing faith and her inquisitive heart wouldn’t let her walk away. Perhaps without knowing why, she knew she had to stay engaged in conversation, trying to understand what Jesus was really telling her.

Isn’t that the way it works with us? When I grow frustrated that my prayers are not answered or my needs are left seemingly unmet, I can turn my back on God and walk away, or I can stay connected and engaged with him, trying to glean a clearer understanding of his will in my life. Rather than walk away, I ought to be saying, “What are you trying to teach me, God? What am I missing here?”

It crystalized for the woman and his disciples when Jesus talked about feeding the puppy from the table scraps. It was at this moment that Jesus seemed to know she was on the precipice of understanding. He dangled the bait one more time, hoping she would take it…hook, line and sinker.

I also think it’s at that moment that the Canaanite woman figured it out. She told Jesus she would be satisfied with just a measure of his mercy. Because of who he was even a morsel of his grace would be sufficient to satisfy her need. That’s when Jesus recognize in her the genuine faith of a true believer.

“Woman, what great faith you have!”

You see, the longer we stay in touch with Jesus…even through the silence and the confusion…we allow ourselves the opportunity to be taught by the master teacher the deeper lessons of faith. The woman’s perseverance and patience in a trying time enabled her to see more clearly what God required of her.

God wants us to have that same kind of faith. Persevering. Patient. Pushing through the silence to get to a deeper understanding of who Jesus is and what he can do in our lives.

The silence of an unanswered prayer eats away at us, especially in a world so accustomed to instant gratification. What we want, we want now. Not tomorrow. Now. When our prayers are met with silence, it is easy to walk away. We do it all the time. We struggle with life and presume God no longer cares. When circumstances take a hard turn, we stop coming to Jesus. When Christian brothers or sisters disappoint us, we criticize the hypocrites and abandon the church.

Some of the best teachers in my life were those who refused to accept my half-hearted efforts, knowing I was capable of more. They pushed, probed and prodded to get me to broaden my understanding. That’s what Jesus was doing for this Canaanite woman. His silence asked her to not give up, to keep seeking, to keep knocking until she found what she needed most.

It’s the same lesson we must learn. When we arrive at that place…when worship is real and genuine…that’s when prayers are answered in a way that matches our will to God’s will. Not the other way around.

Maybe that’s what we need to think about the next time our prayers are met with silence.