Obedience – Dr. Kirk Lewis

You Are What You Think

Background Passages: Psalm 1:1-4, Jeremiah 17:7-8, Philippians 4:8, and 2 Corinthians 10:3-5

The route we typically took to my parents’ house from Pasadena to Ropesville was honestly not the most scenic drive. While there is something to be said for the stark beauty of the endless highway and cotton fields, the trip that we took countless times was little more than the occasional mesa, a random Dairy Queen and a lot of flat, empty space.

I recall making that drive early in our marriage before children as we sat in silence while the country droned by. I felt Robin’s eyes on me long before she asked the question every husband dreads.

“What are you thinking?”

Every husband knows my response. “Nothing.” Also, as every husband knows, that’s exactly what I was thinking in that exact moment and in most moments of solitude. Absolutely nothing.

Comedian Mark Gungor would say, “I was in my Nothing Box.” (If you’ve never seen that YouTube video about how the brains of men and women work, it’s worth the view.)

The Bible talks a lot about our thought life. Though it’s slightly out of context, Solomon lets us know in Proverbs 23:7 that “As a man thinks, so he is.”

In other words, you are what you think. Whatever we choose to concentrate on, spend our time thinking about, will impact the way we choose to live.

Hear the instructive word of the Psalmist.

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers. Not so the wicked. They are like chaff that the wind blows away. (Psalm 1:1-4)

As the opening hymn of the Psalm, the passage answers some amazingly deep questions about life. Who am I going to be? Who is God? Where can I find true contentment and happiness? What road should I take in life? What is my purpose?

It is a call to be blessed. To find contentment and joy, regardless of life’s circumstances. The passage puts us squarely in the middle of the fork in the road. The first path is walked by the wicked, the sinners and the mockers of all that is holy.

Jesus might have called it Broadway. He said in Matthew 7:13, “…For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.”

That first step down the path of the wicked and the way of the sinner always begin with a thought, an idea, a desire that pops in our head that entices and seduces us. We begin to think walking that path would be so much more fun, so much more profitable, so much more popular, that we can’t help but start the journey. As we think, so we are. It doesn’t take long for our thoughts to take hold in our hearts. Now, instead of just thinking about things we shouldn’t, we’re doing them.

Sadly, Paul and I have much in common on this point. I suspect most of us do.

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do–this I keep doing. (Romans 7:15,18-19)

We won’t find contentment on the broad road described by Jesus or the way of the wicked described by the Psalmist. Rather, we’ll end up feeling more and more like Paul. We don’t intend to walk that path, but the world makes it look easy and appealing.

Blessedness (joy and contentment) comes, according to Psalm 1, when we don’t follow in the footsteps of those who do evil or take the path sinners take or travel among the scoffers who know nothing of God and his grace or goodness. It is the road to destruction…to chaff. An existence in which we are blown in whatever direction the wind blows. Never truly grounded. Always acting on a whim.

The Psalmist said the one who is blessed will find a different road to travel. In that same passage in Matthew, Jesus tells us to use the narrow gate and the “narrow road that leads to life and only a few find it.” As Robert Frost said, “…the road less traveled.”

Blessedness flows to the one whose “delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.” Delight is a heart response to something or someone of beauty and value, in this case, God’s word and its truth. The word “delight” is used typically in scripture to describe the life in which God’s purpose and choice are in view.

It is joy, pleasure and satisfaction that comes when we abide in his word and will. Such delight comes only from delving deeply into scripture, finding its relevance for our lives and acting daily upon it.

The one who thinks only about the truths and promises of God found in his word is the one who walks in the path of the righteous and stands in the way of the faithful or sits in the company of those who trust in God’s word. You see, as a man thinks, so he is.

If we think of the things of God, those will be the attributes ingrained in us. It is an immutable truth repeated time and time again in scripture.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthy things. (Colossians 3:1-2)

Then, look at what Paul tells the Philippian church about the way we ought to think.

He begins the passage by exhorting his readers to “rejoice.” To find joy. To find contentment. To find a peace that “transcends all understanding…” Then, he tells them how.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:4-8)

Paul expresses in such a beautiful and poetic way how our thoughts ought to be directed.

Jesus even alludes to it in his Beatitudes when he says, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

Given that the heart was viewed in the Jewish culture as the center of thought and will, Jesus says those whose thoughts are pure, whose motives for every decision are aligned with God’s word and will—these are the souls who will see God at work in their lives. These are the folks who find God in every circumstance of life—good or bad.

You are what you think.

Paul shared one more thought in his second letter to the Corinthian church which feels applicable here.

Though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:3-5)

Don’t you love that last phrase?

…take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ…

The Greek word used for “take captive” means “to control, to conquer, to bring into submission.” We bring into submission every thought so that it conforms to the teachings of Christ. We conquer our tendency to dwell on things we shouldn’t be thinking about. We control those wicked thoughts by not letting them take root in our heart and soul.

The good news is that the Psalmist tells us how to do this.

We take captive our thoughts ”by meditating on the law day and night.”

Our hearts desire must be to embed ourselves so deeply in God’s word and all that it teaches us that we have little time to think of anything else. To be so grounded in scripture, that every temptation is answered by the Spirit’s whispered reminder of what has been taught us through God’s word…just as Jesus refuted every temptation from Satan with a word from scripture.

It’s not enough to just hear scripture read to you in Sunday School or from the pulpit. We need to spend time during the week studying God’s word, especially when the pervasive garbage of the world tries so hard to infiltrate our every thought.

The Rev. Charles Spurgeon said, “A Bible that is falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”

I’ll revert to the Proverbs, an ancient equivalent to the modern day “garbage in, garbage out.” Proverbs 15:14 says that “A wise person is hungry for knowledge, while the fool feeds on trash.”

You are what you think.

I like the idea the Psalmist conveys when he says what it is like to be one who immerses himself in God’s word.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers.

Jeremiah shares a similar thought.

Bless is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

You must love this tree metaphor as much as I do.

Notice that the tree is planted by the stream. It didn’t grow up there on its own accord. It was planted. Planted means to cause to take root. The Hebrew word used here more closely translates as “transplanted.” To cause to take root after moving from one environment to another more suited for growth.

I love that idea in the context of this Psalm that talks about the way of the wicked opposed to the way of the righteous seen in the one who dwells in God’s word. That person is transplanted from the path of wicked, the sinner and the scoffer to live and grow next to the living water found in God’s word through Christ Jesus.

A tree’s roots run deep, searching always for the moisture and nutrients that fuel its growth. The deeper its roots go, the more sturdy and stable it becomes , more capable of withstanding any wind that blows. (In contrast, it takes very little wind to blow away the chaff.)

That’s how it is with one grounded deeply in scripture. She finds the spiritual water and nutrients to grow and mature in Christ. And, like the tree, that kind of growth takes time. We live in a time of instant gratification, but the Christian life is a process of growing and learning. Each minute we stop looking to the Bible for our strength is a lost moment in our spiritual lives.

Notice also that the tree yields fruit. Our time spend in studying God’s word will always point us to ministry and service. It is the understanding of what God requires of us that propels us to care for and serve others.

The message of this Psalm hit me squarely between the eyes this week.

You are what you think.

As we walk through each day, let’s meditate on God’s word…day and night. Think about the things of God. When we do, it’s so much easier to…

Be the tree.

Better Than Biscuits

Background Passages: Ecclesiastes 3:11, Isaiah 40:29-31 and Colossians 1:15-20

I saw this floating story around the social network this week in a Facebook post shared by my friend Kim Pressly. It’s a story about a visiting pastor who attended a men’s breakfast in the middle of a rural farming community, not unlike the one in which I was raised.

An older, sun-baked farmer, decked out in faded bib overalls was asked to say grace for the morning breakfast.

“Lord, I hate buttermilk”, the farmer began. The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wondered where this was going. The farmer loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.” Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw, white flour.”

The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around the room and saw that he wasn’t the only one feeling a bit uncomfortable with the farmer’s prayer.

Then the farmer added, “But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love fresh, warm biscuits.

“Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing. It’ll probably be even better than biscuits.

“Amen.”

I suspect that little anecdote spoke to me when I first read it this week because there is a lot going on in this world that I don’t like. Current realities make life difficult. I suppose we own much of it. We’ve let those difficulties divide us as a people more deeply than I ever thought possible. The parts we don’t own, those things beyond our control, we sure don’t understand.

I hate what is happening to our country, our world, our churches, our lives. It is too often unattractive, unhealthy and unChristian. I don’t know about you, but I find myself growing tired of the buttermilk and the lard and the raw, white flour.

So maybe that old farmer is right. “God, help us wait until you are done mixing.”

I suppose the first Bible verse that comes to my mind is this:

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastics 3:11)

We can’t always see what God has done, nor can we always see what he is doing right now. We do know there is beauty in everything God has created. He orders all things. When we make our mistakes, he is constantly realigning our path with his will. When our world ventures off course, he is there to hold it together until his time is right.

We may not always understand why God allows for things to happen in our lives that cause pain, fear, and worry. However, we can trust that he is constantly at work to reveal his goodness and love amid the troubles of the day.

So, when I don’t like the buttermilk, I just need to realize the Master Baker is still in the kitchen.

If I can accept that God is in control and working through the mess on our behalf, then I can turn to Isaiah 40:29-31 and rest from the struggle and draw strength from his presence.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men will stumble and fall; but those who wait upon 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 grow faint.”

What does it mean to “wait upon the Lord?”

Because we’ve spent so much time in the waiting room of a doctor’s office or in the line at the Department of Motor Vehicles to get our license renewed, we tend to think “waiting” is a passive experience. That we must somehow sit on our hands until God chooses to do something to fix the situation in which we find ourselves. In scripture, however, waiting on the Lord is a call for action.

When these words were spoken by God through Isaiah, the Israelites were in exile in Babylon and Jerusalem lay in ruins, it’s walls and buildings mere rubble. Their hopes and dreams shattered. Tired of their situation, they complained that God no longer seemed interested in their well-being; that he was disinclined to seek justice on their behalf.

Isaiah paints a different picture of God the Creator. He speaks of God giving power to those who are fainthearted and weary. He counters their complaint that God is too small of the situation. Isaiah reminds them, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”

God, Isaiah proclaims, “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.” God is ready to share his power with those who call upon his name. All that is required of them is to “wait on the Lord.”

They were not to sit idly by twiddling their thumbs until God acted on their behalf. They were to wait upon him in confident trust and expectation that he was at work to restore them to the place he called them to be. To wait on the Lord is to actively put our hope and trust in him.

Hope, in a biblical sense, is not desperation. It is living out each day in the image of Christ as his hands, heart and voice. It is taking all we know of Christ and his teachings and doing our part to influence a world that’s trending in the wrong direction. It is actively serving and ministering to the hearts of those we encounter along the way.

Despite the turmoil that surrounds us, we are called to a hopeful expectation that God is still in the kitchen mixing together all the ingredients of the life he has called us to live in Him.

If we do our part in the waiting time, God promises to renew our strength. One commentary I read explained that the word used for “renew” in this passage is closer in translation to the word “exchange.” I like that mental picture.

Those who wait on the Lord do more than renew their strength, they exchange, instead, their faint or faltering strength for the unfailing power of God. Our weakness is replaced by his strength…our frailty with the power of the Creator God who never grows tired.

The beautiful imagery that Isaiah used gives perfect illustration to the uplifting power of God.

“They will soar on wings like eagles.”

An eagle soars to great heights not on the power of his own wings, but on the rising air currents that lift it higher and higher. The eagle’s own power gets him airborne, but to soar he needs the wind. Once he finds the current, soaring is effortless.

Our waiting on the Lord, our confident hope, is the personal action that gets us airborne. We soar when we find the Spirit’s wind that lifts us to new heights. When we find God’s spirit with us, soaring is effortless. We will not grow weary of the task laid before us.

Scripture reminds us that God is always mixing things together, working to bring good from every circumstance for those who love him and are called for his purpose. It is God who holds it all together.

The world is in a mess right now. I don’t like what I see and hear. It seems everything we hold dear is falling apart at the seams.

There is still a big part of me, however, that believes God is at work in the chaos.

Paul indicated as much to his letter to the Colossian church.

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together…For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (Colossians 1:15-20)

Those who wait on the Lord put our confident trust in Christ, the image of the invisible God. That means in times of trouble we can fall back on his teachings to guide us because he has preeminence or authority over all things.

And, here is the part of this passage that speaks to the farmer’s prayer: “…in him all things hold together…and through him to reconcile to himself all things…making peace by the blood of his cross.”

The farmer got it right. All the things in life that I hate, the things I fear are tearing us apart, God knows about all of them. He is in preeminent and is holding life together. Keeping it all in the mix until the time when he can reconcile or bring everything back together to himself. Until we find the peace available through his sacrifice on the cross.

Here’s the deal though. Those things in the mix require one more ingredient. For God to turn those things I hate into something worth tasting, those who wait upon the Lord must be folded into the batter. Confidently expecting God to work in and through us to accomplish his plan and purpose, not only in our lives, but in the world around us. His work through us.

So, don’t grow weary as you look upon the complicated world around you. Our Lord is mixing and holding it all together. Wait upon the Lord. His work…our work…is not done.

I confident when he’s finished, whatever he’s cooked up will be better than biscuits.

Freedom and Responsibility

Background Passages: John 8:31-36, Romans 8:3-4, I Peter 2:16, Galatians 5:13-23, James 2:14-18 and James 1:25

Early in my public relations career, I attended my first out of state business trip. How novel to travel half way across the country on someone else’s dime.

Robin and I drop the boys off with my parents in Ropesville, Texas, and boarded a plane for Pennsylvania. I wasn’t that excited about the conference, but I jumped at the chance to go to Philadelphia over the July 4th holiday.

I attended the obligatory meetings, but as soon as I could shake free, Robin and I walked the historic parts of the city. The Liberty Bell. Independence Hall. Parades. Fireworks. All the trappings of the Fourth of July in an historic city.

Standing behind the rope and staring at the 56 desks in that sweltering room in Independence Hall, I could almost see and hear those men debating their grievances against England and its king.

Samuel and John Adams. Benjamin Franklin. Thomas Jefferson. John Hancock.

Hancock, the president of the Second Continental Congress and governor of Massachusetts, is remembered more for his large and flamboyant signature than his role in leading the Congress.

Though the story is anecdotal, Hancock signed the document with a flourish and remarked, “The British ministry can read that name without spectacles. Let them double their reward.”

He probably didn’t really utter that line, but as they said at the end of the 1962 film, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

Though the 56 men representing the 13 colonies agreed in principle to the words of the Declaration on July 4, they didn’t actually sign it until August 2. Still, the significance of the declaration is a call for freedom that we celebrate as a nation today.

I love the words first learned in school.

“…We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness…”

I sit here today knowing we as a nation have not always lived up to that standard of those words. I sit here knowing that we too often fail to grasp the full weight of the responsibilities that go with freedom and liberty.

I sit here today knowing they may be the most significant words of freedom ever written in a secular, political context. They represent ideals worth celebrating. Ideals worth pursuing with vigor. Ideals worth our best efforts to achieve for all people.

Freedom. Liberty. Rich blessings far too many on earth do not have. Blessings far too easily taken for granted by those who enjoy them.

In the middle of the family and community celebrations this week, let’s remember the true significance of those words.

We ought also to remember God-inspired words which speak to our spiritual liberty and freedom so central to our faith as Christians.

Martin Luther penned a treatise in 1520 called On the Freedom of a Christian. I remember reading parts of his paper in my one year of seminary. He declared in his work that “A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant, subject to all.”

The statements seemed contradictory, but not to Luther. Our faith and trust in Jesus frees us from being slaves to a salvation doctrine that requires good works.

Luther taught that salvation cannot be earned by doing good things. It is a grace gift, freely given by a loving God to anyone who believes in Jesus Christ. Therefore, Luther says, Christians are completely free, not bound by any law, rule or commandment that we must keep in order to earn salvation.

But, Luther also said there is a flip side to the coin. Though set free in this way from salvation dependent upon good works, we are not set free from doing good works.

With the freedom that exists under Christ, there is great responsibility. Let’s think quickly about both of these ideas.

Jesus sat down with a group of Jews who had believed in him. He began to teach them what it means to be one of his followers. As he taught, he uttered what may be the most significant words of freedom ever written in a spiritual context.

“To the Jews who believed in him, Jesus said, ‘If you hold to my teachings, you are really my disciples. Then, you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The Jewish believers struggled with the concept, proud of their national identity and proud of the fact that though they were subjected to foreign occupation throughout their history, they refused to call themselves slaves. Freedom, you see, was trapped within their political reality. It took but a moment for Jesus to drive home his point.

“Everyone who sins is a slave to sin. Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. So, if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” (John 8:34-36)

Jesus is talking about a reality of life. If we were required to be 100 percent obedient to God’s law in order to obtain salvation, none of us would gain an entry pass to heaven. Paul said it clearly, “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

In the good news of the gospel God made provision for our weakness. We are freed from both the eternal consequences and control of sin.

You see, the truth Jesus spoke about to all who would listen, the truth that sets us free from the burden of perfect compliance, is the grace gift of salvation in Jesus Christ.

“You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” is our spiritual declaration of independence.

Paul told the believers in Rome, “What the law of Moses could not do, God did by sending his own son as an offering for sin, bearing man’s punishment for him so he could be set free from sin and enjoy the fellowship of God.” (Romans 8:3-4)

God through Jesus Christ and our faith in him, bore the consequences of our failure to live up to the standard he set before us. Because of that, we should live differently, trying harder each day to avoid the control of sin in our lives.

Peter encouraged those early Christians with these words.

“Act as free men and do not use your freedom as a covering to do evil, but use it as bondslaves to God. (I Peter 2:16)

In her book, You Learn By Living: Eleven Keys to a More Fulfilling Life,” Eleanor Roosevelt wrote that freedom places its own requirements on all who live under its blanket.

“With freedom comes responsibility. For the person who is unwilling to grow up, the person who does not want to carry his own weight, this is a frightening prospect.”

The liberty we enjoy as a nation sets us free to live pretty much as we choose, but it carries the great responsibility of citizenship. We bear the responsibility protecting our freedoms, respecting the rights of others and ensuring those freedoms extend to all of us. For freedom to work well in society, those who enjoy the freedom must live well. Do right. Care for one another.

Paul said something similar applies to Christ followers. He told a group of struggling Christians in Galatia,

“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh, rather serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in this one command, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you bite and devour one another, watch out or you will be destroyed by one another.” (Galatians 5:13-15)

Paul urges his fellow believers to “walk in the spirit,” calling them to produce fruit, or evidence of their faith in their daily lives. Things such as “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

Unlike Ms. Roosevelt’s political context, the Bible teaches that with spiritual freedom comes even greater responsibility. To the person unwilling to grow spiritually, the person who does not carry the cross of his testimony in Christ, this is a frightening prospect.

For spiritual freedom to work well, those who enjoy the freedom in Christ must live well. Do right. Care for one another. We must feel compelled by conscience and conviction to do good works.

Jesus taught us all we need to know about living well. His life was the open textbook. Building relationships. Healing the hurting. Feeding the hungry. Caring for the helpless. Opening the doors for an eternal relationship with God to all with eyes to see and ears to hear. His life, full to the brim with faith in his father, was a life spent doing good works.

My Mom was a woman of practical faith. Her faith was not a “Sunday go to meeting with white gloves on” kind of faith where one professed a trust in Christ yet whose deeds showed little evidence of it. She got her hands dirty in God’s good work caring for the elderly in the Lubbock community.

In my favorite passage from James, the writer refutes the idea that faith frees us to do what we please; that we are under no obligation to do good to others.

“What good is it my brothers if someone claims they have faith, but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, it is dead.

“But someone will say, ‘You have faith. I have deeds.’ Show me your faith without deeds and I will show you my faith by my deeds.” (James 2:14-18)

Every good deed, every act of mercy, every act of love extended to another ought to be a natural outgrowth of the freedom we have in Christ. It is within the living of a Christ-like life of love that we find our blessings.

“But anyone who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom and continues in it, not forgetting what they heard, but doing it, they will be blessed in what they do.” (James 1:25)

Though I am far from perfect, I am keenly aware of the responsibility my faith carries to live well and do good.

I am grateful today for the freedom I have as an American. I do not take it lightly. I recognize the responsibility that comes with it.

I am, however, far more grateful today for the freedom granted me by the grace of God through my belief in Jesus as my savior.

It is a self-evident truth. “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.”

On this July 4th weekend, that is my spiritual declaration of independence.

The Race Marked Out for Us

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…run with perseverance…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…the race marked out for us…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let us fix our eyes upon Jesus…”

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

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

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

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

It is the message I needed to hear.

What’s In Your Hand?

Background Passages Exodus 4:1-5; Romans 12:6-8; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The bedouin stood on calloused, bare feet with his sandals in his hand, trembling in the glow of the burning bush. Seeing its light. Feeling its heat. Listening to the voice from its flame.

The 80-year-old shepherd heard these words and more…

“I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…I’ve heard the cries of my people…I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

Moses hid in the desert for 40 years after an unceremonious exit from Egypt. Face to face with the oppression of the people of his birth, he reacted in the heat of the moment, killing the offending Egyptian. Once the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter. Now a old man, tending sheep that didn’t even belong to him. O, how the mighty had fallen.

God spoke to Moses on the slopes of Mount Horeb from a burning bush that was not consumed. The God of his fathers called him to a mission of eternal importance. It was the next phase of God’s redemptive plan. To make it happen, he needed to get his people out of Egypt and back to the land he had promised them. He needed Moses.

This unbelievable experience in the wilderness should have lifted his spirits and emboldened Moses to act. Instead, the miracle on the mountain left him filled with anxiety, offering one excuse after another.

“Who am I? I am no one. Pharaoh will not listen. I know the man.”

God said, “Go!”

“To the Hebrew people, I’m nothing. When they ask who sent me…and they will ask…what do I tell them”

“Tell them I am who I am! Now, go!”

“They’re not going to believe this…not the Hebrew people and certainly not Pharaoh.”

God chose this moment to ask Moses a critical question.

“What is in your hand, Moses?”

Moses looked at his right hand. Fingers wrapped around the thick shepherd’s staff, worn smooth by years of use. His mind raced. This was the tool of his trade. A staff for protection. A staff for balance. A staff for herding. Just a stick.

I wonder at that moment if Moses saw a flash of something more ominous in the staff he held. He was once a prince of Egypt. Perhaps, in that moment, the staff served as a symbol of all that had gone wrong in his life. The perfect manifestation of his failure. He had traded a scepter for a shepherd’s crook so he could herd a flock of sheep that weren’t even his. As he heard God ask his question, “What is in your hand?” Perhaps Moses felt unworthy, certain that God could choose a better man.

Moses swallowed the lump in his throat and said simply…

“A staff.”

Nothing more. Nothing less. An old tree branch whittled and shaped to serve his needs. God knew it could represent something new and different. He just needed Moses to see it, too.

“Throw it on the ground, Moses.”

Moses let it drop. As it bounced on the rocky soil, the staff transformed into a snake. Startled, he took two steps back and stared.

“Now, pick it up.”

As soon as Moses lifted the snake from the ground, it turned back into a staff.

Moses looked in awe at the bush.

“This,” said the Lord, “is so that they may believe that the Lord, the God of their fathers…the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has appeared to you.”

What is in your hand?

What a great question!

I wonder how many of us have starred at the burning bush and heard the voice of God telling us, “I’ve got something I need you to do for me. It’s important. I need you to go….”

I wonder how often you have done what I’ve done and responded immediately with every excuse in the book to avoid doing what God needs us to do. My excuses sound remarkably similar to the ones Moses muttered into the face of a burning bush.

Who am I that you would ask this of me?

I’m not capable.
I’ve made too many mistakes.
I am no longer the man I once was.
I’m too old.
No one would listen to me.
They’re just going to laugh in my face.
Find someone else…please.

How like Moses I am at times. Too comfortable in my place. Too embarrassed of my failures. Too willing to believe my mistakes trump my potential. Too unwilling to open myself to God’s transformative power.

Then, the question comes to me just as it came to Moses.

“What’s in your hand?”

When you get down to it, that’s an intriguing question. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s a question we’ve all heard at some point in our lives. When God asks the question, it deserves an honest look.

Scripture is filled with stories of individuals who possessed no extraordinary gifts. That which they held in their hands was ordinary. Yet, God called. When they quit making excuses, God began to use them. Consider these examples.

Gideon defeated the Midianites with trumpets and lanterns.
Samson slaughtered the Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.
David took down Goliath with a sling and a stone.
A child with a small basket of bread and fish fed a multitude.

So I ask again, the burning bush question.

What is in your hand?

One of the greatest mistakes we make as believers in Christ is to underestimate who we are and what we have. We hold an old whittled stick…an ability to carry a tune, the skill to bake a cake, the temperament for a kind word, the sensitivity to encourage a troubled soul. Yet, we deem it insufficient, weak, small in comparison to abilities we see in others.

Then, the excuses flow. Maybe, it doesn’t matter as much exactly what is in our hand. Maybe all that really matters is, as one writer said, “how much God is in your stick.”

And, there’s the lesson Moses learned. As long as you hold on to your stick, God can’t demonstrate his power. You’ve got to throw it down. Let it go. Surrender it to God. Once God is in it, his power flows through it.

Then, your ability to carry a tune inspires. Your skill in baking brings comfort. Your kind word changes another person’s outlook on the day. Your encouragement lifts a burden from a neighbor’s shoulders. There is nothing insufficient, weak or small about that.

Whatever is in your hands, when surrendered to God, gets infused with his power that makes a difference. And, people will see what is in your hand and know that God is present in your life.

So, what is in your hand?

The truth is, I can’t tell you. It is a matter between you and God. But, know this. There is something there. God has put something in your hand. It may look ordinary to you, but it was given to you for a purpose. He has gifted all of us, placed something in our hand, to use toward the glory of his kingdom.

Whatever God has placed in our hands we are to use it. Paul wrote about it extensively.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith. If it is serving, then serve. If it is teaching, then teach. If it is to encourage, then give encouragement. If it is in giving, then give generously. If it is to lead, do it diligently. If it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8)

I don’t know what your gift may be, but it does no one any good if you never use it. Each of us has been gifted by God so he can send us wherever he needs us to go. To do what he needs us to do. When we surrender that gift to God, when we throw it down, God’s power is alive through us.

Whatever your hand finds to do; do it with all your might. (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

An unknown poet penned a bit of prose a few years ago entitled, “It Depends Whose Hands It’s In.” It’s not Shakespeare or Byron, but it holds a pretty good message. This is how it starts off.

“A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it’s in.”

As one who has missed his share of lay-ups, I ask you…

What is in your hand?

The Still, Small Voice

Background: I Kings 19:11-12

Back in 2003, Natalie Gilbert, a 13-year-old girl, was scheduled to perform the National Anthem at an NBA basketball game. She had a beautiful voice and frequently sang the anthem at other public events. This time was different, though. As she began to sing, her memory failed her. The familiar words to The Star-Spangled Banner would not come.

Gilbert stood in front of the packed arena crowd and a live television audience in silence, shocked and humiliated…in front of God and everybody.

As the music played unaccompanied by words, Maurice Cheeks, then coach of the Portland Trailblazers walked up and stood beside Gilbert with his arm around her shoulders. He bent over and began to whisper the words in her ear. As she picked up the song, he stood and sang with her, a little off-key, waving to the 20,000 in attendance to join in.

Cheeks, in his compassion, cared so much for a scared girl he did not know so he whispered the words she needed to hear. “I just didn’t want her to feel alone,” he later said.

That whisper reminded me of another quiet voice directed toward a scared individual who felt all alone. I’ve written about it before.

Back on July 28, 2018, I wrote a devotional entitled, “What Are You Doing Here,” using the biblical text found in I Kings 19. Elijah, the great prophet of God called down the thunder and lightning on the false priests of Baal, demonstrating the reality of the God of creation that he served.

His little show brought out the wrath of Queen Jezebel who put a bounty on Elijah’s head. The mighty prophet lost his nerve and ran as far away as his feet would take him.

Troubled and despondent, Elijah huddled in a cave on Mount Horeb wishing for death to come when God drew him out of his despair by asking a simple question. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” God reminded the prophet that he was not finished with him yet. There was still work to do.

It was a reminder I needed at the time. (If you’re interested, you can find it in the archives of my website. http://wordpress.drkirklewis.com/2018/07/

I found myself again in I Kings this week reading the same story. As he often does, God chose to teach me a new thing. A different lesson from the same set of verses.

Elijah huddled in the corner of his cave wrapped in a blanket of self-pity, determined to make the cave his crypt. God, in his understanding of the human soul, urged Elijah to get up.

“Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” (I Kings 19:11)

Whether he climbed this mountain on purpose or by providence, God’s prophet found himself on Mount Horeb…Mount Sinai. The same mountain where God revealed himself to Moses in the lightning, smoke and thunder as he was leading the Hebrew people from captivity in Egypt.

God would again use this place to open the eyes of his servant.

Before Elijah could rise from his hiding place to do as God asked, a raging wind tore boulders from the cliff, threatening to trap him inside. An earthquake rattled the ground beneath and above him, showering him in dust and fragments of stone. An inferno scoured the landscape below him, consuming everything in its path.

Though Moses experienced God’s presence in the storm, Elijah would not find God in the terrifying display of nature’s power. But…

“…after the fire came a gentle whisper” (I Kings 19:12)

At the sound of a still, small voice, Elijah gathered himself and walked out of the cave onto the ledge of the mountain. God opened his eyes to the possibility that there was still work to be done.

It is in that whisper that God had another lesson to teach me this week. Have you ever wondered how God speaks to us today…or even if he speaks?

God brought the consuming lightning to the altar on Mount Carmel, giving Elijah the victory over the pagan prophets. He spoke in the power of that moment.

Bold.

Brash.

Brilliant.

We want God’s word to us to be equally clear. We want the bold and the dramatic so we can’t possibly miss what God wants us to do…what he’s trying to say to us.

Give us a burning bush.

Manna from Heaven.

A whirlwind.

But God is not always into the bold and dramatic. He’s not always making the big splash that we want him to make. The voice does not call out to us from the clouds, “This thou shalt do…,” though that would be infinitely easier on us.

God’s word is not always dramatic. Sometimes, its a whisper.

Silent.

Soft.

Subtle.

The contrast of the tumult outside the cave and gentle murmur tickling the ear reminds me that God speaks most often in his way. If we only wait for God to speak to us in the extraordinary and uncommon, we will rarely hear his voice in the ordinary and common moments of life.

If we’re waiting for the king’s proclamation following the blast of trumpets and the shout of angels, we will miss the stifled cry of a baby, wrapped in ragged clothes and laying in a manger of smelly hay.

If we’re waiting for the battle cry of rebellion against the forces of evil, will will miss the soft voice from the cross, “It is finished.”

If we’re waiting for God to stand outside the tomb and shout, “I’m back!” we’ll miss him quietly asking us, “Whom do you seek?”

How does God speak to his people today? With every tool at his disposal from the miraculous to the mundane, I know he has many ways. This story of Elijah tells us just one. But, this one way, I believe, is his most prominent way, of speaking to me. I’ve found it to be true in my life.

God speaks to me in the still, small voice inside my heart and head. It is the voice that tells me that person at the table with the sad eyes needs to hear a word of encouragement. The man with the angry face needs my presence today. That homeless man on the corner could really use that $20 in my wallet. That child sitting alone at lunch needs me to sit with them for a while. MY wife needs a hug today.

God speaks through the unseen actions of his people. The random and intentional acts of kindness that provide meals for the family of the one with cancer. With every tree cleared from a stranger’s driveway in the aftermath of a devastating storm. With every step of progress made toward social justice that makes a nation better than it was before. God speaks through his people in the every day, nitty-gritty reality of life.

God speaks to me through the quiet voice of his spirit that guides me down a path I would not otherwise choose because he knows that place is the best place for me to be.

It is less important how God speaks to us than what we do with what he says.

The voice that whispered to Elijah is the same voice that whispers to me and you. We have an opportunity Elijah didn’t have. Elijah could not look upon the Lord. He was not permitted.

Because God became flesh and dwelt among us, because he lived, died and was resurrected, because Jesus words were written in scripture and made available to all of us, we can see and hear the one who speaks to us by reading his word, hearing his voice pour out of the printed page and into our hearts.

I think back on the times of my life when I stood frozen at center court, unable to speak or move. Amid the awkwardness, God’s voice whispers in my ear a word of purpose and encouragement, giving me the words to sing. As my faltering voice catches in my throat, I hearing him sing the words beside me.

God could speak to me in the thunder and lightning, but I find comfort and peace in the whispered words of a God whose compassion runs too deep to leave me standing there alone.

So, when you can hear nothing else, listen. Listen for the still, small voice of God.

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.

Passion Week-Friday: Renewal

Background Passages: John 18:1-19:37, John 3:16-17, Ephesians 2:8, John 19:38-42, and John 12:32

Nine hours.

540 minutes.

32,400 seconds.

That’s all the time it took the religious leaders to arrest Jesus and to nail him on the cross. Nine hours. When Jesus whispered, “It is finished,” and breathed a sigh of release, the religious leaders patted each other on the back and breathed a sigh of relief. It was finished. They had won.

In one of the world’s best examples of a kangaroo court, Caiaphas, the high priest, and other religious officials, manufactured the evidence and brow beat a Roman governor to bend him to their will. By killing Jesus, they protected their standing among the Jewish people. Brutally efficient. Politically effective.

Little did they realize that they played right into God’s hand. Scripture tells us when the time was right, the sovereign God sent his son to live among his creation, to teach them what it means to be a part of his kingdom and to die as a substitute for the failures of a sinful world.

In those nine hours, God expressed his deepest love.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:16-17)

In those nine hours, we learn the very definition of grace.

“For it is by grace you are saved through faith—and this not from yourself. It is a gift from God. (Ephesians 2:8)

In those nine hours, we see the deepest love and the greatest gift of all time. In those nine hours, we see the beginning of Easter.

This will not be a typical Easter weekend. In the middle of this pandemic, our churches will be mostly empty, despite the creative ways congregations find to worship. Easter will be less public and more private. More personal. Maybe that’s not altogether bad thing.

It’s a hard truth. Most Easter Sundays find churches with their pews filled with faces who rarely enter the church doors throughout the year. Believers, for the most part, for whom the cross gets stuffed in the closet after Easter service along with their new dresses, suits and shoes. They’ll pull it out again next year, but what about the months between?

I really don’t intend for that to sound harsh or critical, though I suspect it does. I attend church almost every weekend and I know I’ve failed God more times that I care to admit. It’s not about our failures. It’s about what we do from this moment on with the cross. How do we let it change our lives?

Caiaphas and the other religious leaders rejoiced at Jesus’ death. Though they read the scriptures regularly. They clearly misunderstood the words. They projected their own interpretation of God’s word and created an image of the Messiah that Jesus did not fit. As a result, they nailed him to a cross and mocked him. “If you really are the chosen one, prove it to us once and for all by coming down from the cross.” When Jesus did nothing, they laughed, patted each other on the back and went on their way.

One thief joined the religious elite, mocking Jesus and telling him to get all of them off the cross if he was who he claimed to be. The repentant thief, on the other hand, scolded his partner in crime for his shameful words. Though he knew he deserved the death to which he had been sentenced, he recognized in the things Jesus said and did while on the cross that Jesus was innocent. He saw enough in Jesus to repent of his own sin and give his life to him, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Each of us as believers in Christ had to get to that point. Convicted of our own sin and seeing into the heart of Jesus, we gave our lives to him. Too often, we let the genuine thrill of that experience fade with time. We trust him as savior, try to live according to his word, but, whether out of embarrassment or fear, we hide our faith from others…stepping from the shadows to light only on Easter or when it is convenient for us.

What do we do with the cross? I hope we do what Joseph of Arimathea did.

Joseph was a Pharisee, a member of the ruling council. Luke describes him as a “good and upright man.” John tells us Joseph was a follower of Jesus. He had heard Jesus teach and believed in who he was. Joseph accepted Jesus as his savior, his Messiah. But, and this is still too often true today of many believers, Joseph kept his relationship to Christ private. He was afraid of what the Jewish leaders would do to him.

When Jesus died on the cross, Joseph came alive spiritually. His fear forgotten, Joseph of Arimathea approached Pilate, the man who sentenced Jesus to die, asking the governor’s permission to take Jesus from the cross and bury him properly. The cowardice and fear that kept his faith silent vanished. His bold and public request testified for Jesus in a way that everyone, including the religious leaders, could see.

Jesus had been dead less than an hour and already his words proved true.

“But if I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself.” (John 12:32)

Joseph, who privately made his faith commitment, found himself drawn to the cross of Christ, decided it was time to make his relationship to Christ public. Time for a re-commitment.

This will not be our typical Easter. Despite creative ways to celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus, most churches will remain closed. The pews, normally full of people, will remain empty. The word of God will be proclaimed this weekend in many ways. We will see Jesus on the cross, high and lifted up.

Be drawn to him. Wherever we have been reticent to express our faith and trust in him, let’s leave that hesitation at the foot of the cross. It’s my prayer this weekend that we all be drawn to the cross, recommitted to live and work for him each day. It’s my prayer that we all let the cross change us. May we use the incredibly sacrifice of Jesus to renew our faith commitment and boldly proclaim to the world that we are his.

For God so loved the world…

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.

Your Servant is Listening

Background Passages: I Samuel 1:1-21

We live in a time when it seems people have a hard time hearing God speak. The noise of our technology, the rattle of the personal and global sabers and the drone of strident political debate drown out God’s voice.

Some might suggest that the low tide of our spiritual lives is a result of God backing away from us. That he has little to say because we have proven ourselves unworthy. Maybe. But, I don’t think that thought is consistent with the character and nature of God. More than likely, we are at fault. When we no longer hear God speaking it’s more likely because too few of us want to listen.

Life in America today reminds me of a distant time in Israel, when too few of God’s people listened for his call and direction.

“…In those days, the word of the Lord was rare; there were not too many visions.” (I Samuel 3:1)

I first heard the story as a child. The passage was sanitized somewhat to protect me from the more sordid details. It is the opening verse in the story of God’s call to Samuel to serve as his prophet in Israel.

You probably remember the story as I do. Samuel forever portrayed as a young child, sleeps in the temple after being dedicated to God’s service by his grateful mother, long unable to have children. As he serves in the tabernacle, he is one night awakened three times from his slumber. Samuel assumed the voice calling his name was his surrogate father and mentor, Eli, the priest. Two times Eli sent him back to bed telling him he was dreaming.

The third time, Eli realized that the boy was being called by God. He told him simply, “If you hear the voice again, answer, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” For the fourth time, the voice called to Samuel who responded as he had been instructed. “Your servant is listening.”

That childhood lesson ended there. The teaching clear. God calls. I must listen. This is a lesson I still need to hear, even as a senior adult. However, there is more to this story for those who want to take it to the next level.

First, God’s call is personal. When God speaks it is a personal message just for me. If his call were generic and meant for everyone, it would be far too easy to dismiss it. To lay at the feet of someone else. “That task is not for me. Let the church staff do it. That’s why we pay them.” When God calls, he is calling me. His call is applicable to my life. My call to service and ministry. It is personal.

Secondly, his call is penetrating. God does not need to speak in a voice of thunder that can cut through the noise, rattle and droning that dominate our lives. Don’t get me wrong. I’m living testimony that God will sometimes use a 2” x 4” across the nose to get our attention. His quiet call to salvation and service is capable of cutting through the most hardened heart and the most reluctant soul.

Thirdly, God’s voice is persistent. God’s will is not easily thwarted. He does not give up on us without a fight. So, when we don’t hear him the first time, he will call again…and again…and again. He will call out our name. He will tap us repeatedly on the shoulder. If we still do not respond, he will nudge another to remind us to listen, just as he nudged Eli. I’m grateful that he is persistent in drawing me to him.

While the story teaches much about the work of God in making the call, it also teaches us a lot about the response he desires from us.

First, I must make myself available to him. When Samuel heard the voice, he immediately got up from his slumber and responded to it. True, there first few times he didn’t know who was speaking, but he responded. He opened his heart to the possibilities. When God called Isaiah years later to carry a message of repentance to his people, the prophet responded in much the same way as young Samuel, “Here I am. Send me.” It has been the right response for ages. “Here I am.” I am available.

Secondly, Samuel eagerly responded. Each time his name was called, Samuel ran to Eli. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t walk. He didn’t wait until morning when it was more convenient. He got up and ran to the one he thought was calling with eagerness and anticipation. “Here I am,” he said. His actions said, “What can I do for you?” Samuel possessed a heart that was ready to be moved. A mind open to the possibilities. A spirit willing to act. It’s not enough to be available. We must be ready to respond immediately to God’s instruction.

Finally, Samuel served obediently. The children’s story ends with Samuel available and eager. The message for the rest of us takes it one step further. It calls for obedience.

If we remember the beginning of the chapter, Samuel lived during a time in which the people of God had a hard time hearing him speak.

“…In those days, the word of the Lord was rare; there were not too many visions.”

Israel’s spiritual leaders lost their focus. Eli, the priest, had grown old and complacent in his faith. His sons, also priests, used their positions of power to satisfy their own personal desires. They desecrated the sacrifices. They extorted payments from those who came to worship. To his credit, Eli confronted them about their sin, but they refused to listen. Eli, ultimately, failed to discipline them for their evil deeds, even after being warned of God’s displeasure.

The failure of the spiritual leaders led to the failure of the people to worship God fully. To allow him to lead and direct their lives.

God eventually told Samuel he was about to do a new thing in Israel that will make the “ears of everyone who hears of it tingle.” When God called Samuel, he placed upon him a heavy burden. Change was coming. God would assert his control over the lives of his people in an effort to draw them back to him, but it would come at a cost to Israel…to Eli and his family…and to Samuel. It would be Samuel’s responsibility to announce God’s judgment to Eli, man who served as father and teacher in his life. It would fall upon Samuel to chastise a king and a nation.

Despite the cost, Samuel did as God required. Because of his faithful obedience, scripture tells us,

“The Lord was with Samuel as he grew up and he let none of his words fall to the ground.” Samuel proved trustworthy in the word of God that he proclaimed. As a result, all of Israel knew him as God’s prophet.

Living as we do in a nation that prides itself as a “nation under God,” it’s sometimes hard to find the evidence of it. It feels as though we have drifted away from God and his purpose for our lives. I wonder what it will take for us to return to a place where our words and our actions reflect the will and purpose of God?

God’s message will always be personal, penetrating and persistent…calling us as individuals to respond to his voice. For when enough individuals respond with availability, eagerness and obedience, our words…which are God’s words… will not fall to the ground unheard and unnoticed.

Maybe all it takes are enough of God’s people saying, “Here I am, Lord. Speak, for your servant is listening.”