Category: Overcoming

Decisions, Decisions

Background Passages: Matthew 4:2-11; John 1:1,14; Matthew 22:37-40

The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia, once served as the palatial home of the tsars. The gilded palace is now an art museum. One of the works of art one can see at the Hermitage is The Benois Madonna, painted in 1478 by Leonardo Di Vinci.

Named after the family who once owned it, this portrait of Mary and the infant Jesus have them engrossed in play together, their gazes lifelike to a degree that only Di Vinci could achieve. Above both the Madonna and Jesus hover faint outlines of a halo.

The use of a halo to represent the deity of Jesus is a common theme in art. I remember thinking as I viewed that painting several years ago that Jesus might be embarrassed by the depiction. A halo just wasn’t his style. It’s difficult to see the halo when you read the astounding words in the Gospel of John.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. (John 1:1, 14)

As steeped in theology as those words might be, I find them so incredibly comforting. Think about that for a second. God’s son who existed in him and with him and was, in fact him, surrendered that divine existence to walk among the weeds with us. The very image of God living the same life I live.

Jesus’ early life is shrouded in mystery that matters only a little bit. From the infant unnaturally born in a natural way, to a 12-year-old with a mind that soaked up scripture like the desert soaks up a raindrop. To the carpenter with calloused hands who emerged from Jordan’s waters to hear his Father kickstart his ministry by declaring, “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

Everything else in the years between those brief glimpses into his life remains a product of speculation and imagination. In my mind, he didn’t walk those 30 years with a halo on his head spouting the King James English. He lived those 30 years coming to grips with what it means to live as the image of God.

As he walked away from the Jordan that day, hair dripping with river water, with the words of his father echoing in his heart and soul, Jesus headed into the desert to face the options open to him in his ministry. To more clearly grasp his purpose.

Grady Nutt, in his book Being Me, wrote about Jesus’ time in the wilderness. “This remarkable young man with all his gifts and with his unique relationship to God—he even called God a word we would translate as Daddy—still had to decide who would rule his life and what he would do with his life.”

Scripture tells us that Jesus spent 40 days in prayer and fasting. It’s again speculation on my part, but I think this time spent talking to his father gave Jesus a clear understanding of the role he would play in God’s redemptive plan. Obedience to that plan would put him on a cross. It may not have been the first time the thought entered his mind, but his time in the desert, I believe, left no doubt as to his purpose.

I think the last time he got up from his knees with his stomach rumbling, it was with a sense of clarity and resolve. That’s probably why Satan began to put a bug in his ear, offering a few alternative choices.

You’ll find this account in both Matthew and Luke under a heading of “The Temptations of Christ.” The title gives a little too much credit to the tempter, it seems to me. Nutt calls the same passage, “The Decisions of Christ,” putting the emphasis on the response of the one who is tempted, not the challenge of the tempter.

I like that because when I’m being pulled to consider options other than what I know God demands of me, I have decisions to make. It’s less about the temptation and more about how I will respond to it. What I will decide to do. What choice I chose to make.

The good news is I only need to see Jesus, the image of God standing in a desert, to get a handle on the proper choice to any temptation. Take a look at a familiar story from the Bible.

After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then, the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus answered, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

Jesus said, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’” (Matthew 4:2-10)

In Christ, there is certainly the halo effect of God sending his son to become redemption for a sinful humanity. There is also the human effect of God sending his son, as Pastor Ray Stedman says, “to reveal man as God intended man to be.” In all Jesus did, in every aspect of his life as he lived among us as the image of God, we see a man acting as God desired us to act from the very onset of creation. The perfect example of God in human form.

From that perspective, suddenly life makes more sense. Throughout his ministry and certainly in this episode of his life, Jesus calls us to live faithfully by his words, his deeds and his decisions. He even summed it up in two simple statements to a scheming Pharisee.

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. The second is like it. Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

You see how he internalized those commands in his response to the choices in front of him while in the wilderness.

Twice Satan challenged him, “If you are the Son of God, then…” Notice the emphasis on the “if.” It isn’t an “if” in our English sense of the word, as though Satan was trying to make Jesus doubt his relationship to God. God affirmed when Jesus came up out of the Jordan.

Satan himself isn’t confused. He knew exactly who Jesus was.

The Greek text renders the word “if” more closely to our word “since.” “Since you are the Son of God, then”…why not do this instead of what you’ve been told you must do. This will be far less work. Far less pain. Far more glory and power.

What follows the “then” is a decision point where Jesus has to choose to be the one God called him to be. “Since you are the Son of God, then…”turn the stones to bread.” “…throw yourself down…” “…this can all be yours…”

Jesus’ entire life, his entire ministry, would be lived out against the backdrop of these decisions. The devil here is trying to get Jesus to move from the principle of dependence and trust in God. To do things his way.

It is the very essence of temptation for us as well. We face decision point after decision point attempting to get us to act on our own, independently of God and his indwelling spirit. “If you do this, Kirk, then…”

Let’s take a look at the decisions Jesus was asked to make.

You just think you’ve been hungry. Jesus had limited sustenance for almost six weeks. In one of the most understated bits of scripture the Bible tells us “…afterwards he was hungry.” The mere thought of turning a stone to a loaf of fresh baked bread makes me salivate right now. Imagine how Jesus felt when the temptation arose.

As miraculous as the temptation sounds, it rose out of a simple physical need. The temptation came because he was human and hungry, but that’s not really what the devil was saying. The implication is that God left him in the wilderness to starve. That God no longer cared.

That’s the way temptations come to us even today…through subtle suggestions that God could not possibly care for someone like me or you.

It’s the objection we hear to Christianity all the time. How could a loving God allow all this suffering in the world…war, famine, sickness. How could he let a child die? If there is a God, he must not care for us at all.

The devil suggested to Jesus that since God obviously didn’t care and since you are the Son of God, just take matters in your own hands. Meet your own needs independent of God.

It is the same decision you and I must make every day when faced with the choices laid out in front of us. Am I going to trust God or will I do my own thing. Answer my own questions. Make my own way.

Jesus’ response to temptation put life in its proper perspective. “Man shall not live on bread alone.” You see, our deepest need, my deepest need, is not physical. Not now, not ever.

My deepest need is to stay in right relationship with God. To trust. Making decisions based on my own will or by trusting in my own abilities comes at a cost to that relationship. Every single time.

If Satan can’t push you off one cliff, he’ll try to push you off another. After Jesus brushed off his attempt to use his physical needs against him, the devil targeted his soul. The devil couldn’t move Jesus away from this trust in the father, so he opted to put that trust to the test.

Taking Jesus to the highest rampart of the Temple, he said, “Throw yourself off.” Then, he quoted some scripture of his own suggesting that the angels would never let anything bad happen to him…not so much as a stubbed toe.

He said basically, “Do it and everyone will see how much you trust God and how you are willing to put yourself in danger for them. They’ll flock to you. What a spectacle it will be!”

As powerful as his miracles would prove to be, they were not enough to convince many of who he was. His greatest displays of faith came in the quiet trust of his heart that rested on what God had said and revealed to him time and time again. The things he did to stay the course. His trust and obedience to his Father’s will made the difference.

When Jesus spoke again, he chastised the devil. “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” In other words, you can’t force God to act on your behalf. You can’t force him to change the conditions of life. That’s not the way faith works.

While it may not be as exciting as a swan dive from the top of the Temple, but a life lived obedient to God’s will, in his power and strength, provides the endurance and patience to deal with anything life throws your way…and to do it with joy.

As a last resort, the tempter took Jesus to a high mountain where he could see the world spread out below him in all its glory and beauty. Through subtle pretext and artful disguise, he said, “Worship me and I’ll give you authority over all of this.” The heart of the matter. “You will have power and will be exalted.”

Interestingly, Jesus came to win the world. To be Lord of all. To be exalted above all men so that “every knee would bow” and “every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…” as it says in Philippians. It was seemingly being handed to him on a silver platter without the agony of the cross. Yet, to grasp the heart of it you have to finish reading the verse. “…to the glory of God.”

That last part is the kicker, isn’t it? It sounds good until you realize the power, authority and the exaltation that come with the devil’s offer is fruitless unless God receives the glory.

Jesus chose again the appropriate response. “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.”

There lies the basis of our decision to set aside all that glitters and draws us away from God. To keep ourselves from being caught up in the quest for power and glory all our own. The only right decision is to worship and serve the Lord.

It’s such a heart thing to understand, as Stedman says, “To worship is to serve. To serve is to worship.” Only God gives any real value to life. The world can never give it. It is a decision that speaks to the deepest desires of the heart. To have a life that is worthwhile. To worship God only and to serve mankind on his behalf.

So, it seems to me these are the most important decisions I can make in the face of any temptation. Will I trust him? Will I be obedient? Will I worship and serve him? As it was for Jesus, my entire life is lived against the backdrop of these decisions. So is yours.

I’m drawn back to the beginning.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Not with Di Vinci’s halo around his head, but wrapped in humanness to show us how to live as the men and woman God created men and women to be.

Temptations will come, but it’s less about the temptations than it is about the decisions we make when they come. Somewhere out in that desert above the Jordan River, Jesus set a pretty good example for all of us.

Choose to Remember

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This I call to mind and, therefore, I have hope. Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This I call to mind…”

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

What is he calling to mind?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What Now?

I’m sitting here tonight with my arm in a sling following surgery to remove bone spurs and reattach a torn rotator cuff tendon. I share that with you not to garner sympathy, though sympathy helps, too.

I share it with you simply because the surgery limits my typing to a ponderous, one-fingered hunt and peck that tries my patience and stifles my creativity. The prospect of typing my regular Bible Study blog this week is one hunt and one peck too much.

My uncle, Les Lewis, is the pastor of Grace Lutheran Church in Slaton, TX. He writes two brief devotional thoughts each week to share with his congregation, family and friends.

Once on a snowy day in West Texas when I was in elementary school and Les was in high school, he carried me home on his back for more than a mile through a foot of snow (uphill both ways, I’m sure.) Les regales our family with stories, each with the Lewis gift of embellishing the truth to make things more interesting. He makes me laugh.

When it comes to his faith, he is a spiritual thinker and often presents a new thought that challenges my own thinking. The following is one of my uncle’s devotionals. As I think of the number of family and friends dealing with personal moments of grief in the past weeks and months, his message resonates with me as one whose hope is in Christ. I hope you find it helpful.

I Thessalonians 4:13-18

“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have not hope.”

The young first century church was still struggling to find itself; deciding where it stands on issues of the day. This is was especially true of the church at Thessalonica having only recently been established by the itinerant apostle Paul.

Since the day of Pentecost, the church had been inundated with odd beliefs, theories, superstitions, and speculations about God’s organization. Leaders were forced to deal not only with each of these notions but also with those who introduced them to the church.

High upon the list of topics of discussion was the belief that the Lord Jesus would be returning to earth to redeem His Church and take His followers to ever be with God in heaven. The people of the church were in a constant state of waiting anxiously for His return.

But this very issue was disturbing for some of the people, for their loved ones had died, and they feared that the dead would be left behind when the rapture came. The letter of Paul to the Thessalonians addressed the issue. He introduced them to his own doctrinal theory, “by the word of the Lord,” to give it divine authority.

The text for today very clearly lines out in orderly fashion the event of the second coming that includes all of God’s children. It’s impossible to say for sure whether or not Paul’s discourse put the matter to bed, but I imagine it was very comforting to those grieving members for whom it was intended.

Grief has received bad press in that it tends to be looked upon as a sign of weakness, or a lack of faith. Grief is autonomous! It forces us deep into our very souls to meet with us there even as we struggle to follow the advice of well-meaning friends who tell us we “must be strong for the kids.”

The dark silence of the soul may be strange territory for many of us for it is the place where deep processing takes place; where all phony business is pushed aside leaving only the pain of reality.

We will feel as if grief is going to utterly consume us, but HOPE is the solvent that softens our grief and ultimately makes us feel human again. Hope does not get rid of grief, it only makes grief, OUR GRIEF, bearable, thereby blending “our” grief into our personality enabling us to be present for “others who have no hope.”

Paul’s image offers hope to all who are in grief. “Therefore encourage one another with these words.”

Les

*****

Thanks, Les. I add only one thought and one verse.

With every loss comes grief. It’s arrival and departure are rarely in a confined time frame or orderly progression. Just when we think grief has finally taken its last breath from us, another wave breaks over our heads threatening to drown us once again in our sorrow.

That’s why we fight it. Try to ignore it. Try to push it away only to find ourselves lost again in our brokenness. Grief is the life process God uses to put our pieces back together again, different to be sure, but whole. It is his presence, his hope, that sustains us.

I find comfort in the following verse from Psalms.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

That has been my experience and is the basis of my hope.

The Uncomfortable Christian

Background Passage: Acts 20:7-12, 2 Timothy 15

I thoroughly enjoy college sports. As a graduate of Texas Tech, I am a Red Raider through and through. While I suffer a bit each fall while our football team tries to find its way, my blood runs with a healthy mixture of scarlet and black during baseball and basketball season. A trip to the final four and to the national championship will do that to you.

Michelle Trotter, the girls’ basketball coach in the Crosby Independent School District, is a committed Christian. She posts motivational moments on her Facebook pages that speak as much to life as to the game she loves. She recently posted an interview with Chris Beard, the head men’s basketball coach at Tech. In it, Coach Beard talked about the value of staying uncomfortable.

“Comfortable gets you beat. You see it all the time in sports. Life’s the same way. You have a great day, a great win, and it takes the edge off. It takes a special person, we use the term “elite,” to remain uncomfortable…Everyone has high expectations and focus in times of adversity. Only the elite people can push themselves each day to stay uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is where growth comes from.”

He’s got a point. As soon as we get comfortable, we get complacent. When we’re complacent, we don’t work as hard. To adapt his phrase. Complacency gets you beat, in sports, in life and in faith.

There is a rather obscure passage of scripture in Acts that may speak to this idea…at least in my weirdly wired mind.

Paul is leaving Philippi to head back through Macedonia for another round of preaching and teaching. Along the way, he spent a week in Troas on the coast. Gathering the believers together on his last day in the city, he began to impart his words of wisdom on redemption and responsibility.

I can imagine this kind of meeting happened frequently in the early church. They needed to be taught the fundamental truths of the teachings of Jesus, the theology of their faith. They also needed to learn how to put that faith in practice, the organization and structure of their ministry. It would require a great deal of teaching and reteaching. I’m guessing this was a reteaching moment.

Luke tells us that Paul called the people together for a mid-day meal. It was a working lunch. As they ate, Paul talked and taught. He had a lot to say to the standing-room-only crowd. As the sun set, the apostle was still going strong speaking past midnight.

As the night wore on, we find Eutychus perched in a third-story window, one leg in and one leg out, his back against the narrow window frame. Perhaps it was his short stature (think Zacchaeus) that made him think the third-story window was a good idea. Yet, there he was, high above the crowd listening to the apostle speak.

Is it possible that God’s word and work can feel so ordinary…so comfortable…to us that grow complacent in our understanding, believing that we know everything we need to know? That our reading and study of scripture become too routine? That we take our knowledge of God’s grace and love as that of an ever-present friend that we take for granted? Is it possible that we hear a scripture explained to us one time and assume that is all God has to reveal? Is it possible to believe you know it all and don’t need to hear the same message again?

I don’t know if that was Eutychus’ problem or if he was just tired after a long day, but Luke tells us he fell asleep. As he drifted off, he fell, sadly, out the window and to his death. It seems not only does comfortable get you beat, it also gets you killed.

The good news is that Paul, with the power of the Holy Spirit, gave life again to the young man in a miracle reminiscent of those performed by Jesus. When Paul finally wrapped up his presentation, the sun was peeking over the horizon. Eutychus walked home with his family and friends, rejoicing in God’s goodness.

It’s a peculiar story set in scripture, one in which there is no spiritual truth obviously revealed. No incident of any deep, historical significance. We see God working a miracle through Paul’s undying faith, but there is no direct message. So, in absence of a more direct word from God, you have to open your heart to the spirit’s leading.

So, I want to talk about this idea of staying uncomfortable. Avoiding complacency.

You and I have both seen people who come to know Christ as older adults. Their passion for this new, redeemed life, infuses their hearts and minds. Every passage of scripture is eye-opening. Every lesson they hear energizing. They hunger for God’s truth.

You and I have also seen people who allow time to diminish their hunger and thirst. Their salvation is a one-time thing, guaranteed by scripture, but they never engage in the process of salvation…the on-going growth and development of our spiritual selves. What they read and hear in scripture is no longer profound. This little light of truth gets hidden under their bushel. They no longer let it shine. They get too comfortable in doing church.

I recognize those people because I’ve been those people. I know how easy it is to fall into that trap. Complacency leaves us feeling empty. As one pastor wrote, “When we are complacent, our life of faith becomes just about God, not (a life) for God. Not (a life) with God.”

The problem gets magnified when too many of us grow comfortable in our faith. When too many of us rest on our own understanding, the church begins to suffer and slide. Attendance drops. Membership falls. Worship rarely inspires. Our outreach suffers. People find other things to do.

It is the “elite” Christian who learns to remain uncomfortable. We do tend to sharpen our focus in difficult times and allow it to dim when things are going well. If we can push ourselves each day to stay uncomfortable, we can growth in spiritual maturity.

To remain uncomfortable in our faith is to remain open to being taught. Avoiding complacency in our faith allows us to grow. It’s choice. It’s intention.

Our church has a series of stained-glass windows depicting the seven “I am” statements of Jesus. Our pastor is now preaching a sermon series on these statements. In his almost 40-year tenure with us, Dr. Lyles has preached on these “I am” statements at least five times, he said.

If I’m a comfortable, complacent Christian, I might write off the sermon series. “I’ve heard it before. There is nothing new here I need to learn.” Been there. Heard that. Bought the t-shirt.

If I am uncomfortable, open and willing to be taught, the message will resonate under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit with truth I need to hear and apply in this time of my life. Being uncomfortable is what makes us hunger and thirst for more of God’s instruction. It is what gives our faith its life.

Paul gave words of advice to his pastoral protege Timothy. The words are helpful for the uncomfortable Christian.

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and correctly handles the word of truth.” (2 Timothy 2:15)

Most of us learned that verse from the King James Version of the Bible translated into English in 1611. It starts off with the phrase, “Study to show thyself approved…” in the 17th century, the word “study” carried the meaning of “striving” or “being diligent.”

So Paul is reminding Timothy and us to do our best. You see, being an “elite” Christian, like the “elite” athlete, requires hard work. Daily practice. Intense study. Commitment to fundamentals. Willingness to learn a new way of doing things. To avoid the complacency of the routine and embrace the idea of being uncomfortable in the moment.

“Blessed is he who hungers and thirsts for righteousness…” Jesus could easily be saying, in my less poetic terms, “The happy person is the one who knows he doesn’t know and diligently keeps his heart open for the next tidbit of spiritual wisdom and insight that God wants to reveal.”

Blessed are the uncomfortable.

Coach Beard values hard work from his players. He demands it. They practice hard in order to play hard. His recruits are not always the most talented, but they are workers. He finds people knowing that if they put in the work, they will grow to be better basketball players, better people.

Paul would understand this. This passage from Paul to Timothy tells him to be a worker. We know people among our circle of friends or within our church who are workers. They cannot sit idle. If there is work to be done, you’ll find them in the crew.

We also know people steeped in scripture who never quit studying the Bible. These people are constantly trying to work at this business of spiritual growth and maturity to ensure their lives are lived consistent with God’s word of truth. Workers are never complacent with their relationship with God in word or deed.

Based on all of that, this is the part of the Eutychus story I like. Paul ran to the young man who fell from the window. Gathered his lifeless form in his arms. When Paul wrapped his arms around Eutychus, he said, “There is still life in him.” In the next moment Eutychus is awake and walking.

I hope that when I fall victim to my own complacency that the Holy Spirit will wrap his arms around me and declare, “There is still life in him.” I hope that spiritual hug gets me up and walking again in faith.

Eutychus got a second chance at life. God is a great God of second chances. When we grow too comfortable, it might be time to shake the tree. To move our faith to the edge of our comfort zone and beyond with a sense of wonder about what God will reveal to you tomorrow.

So, if you’re feeling a little too comfortable in your faith, this much I know. There is still life in you.

Passion Week-Saturday: Remember

Background Passage: Luke 23:56

Jesus is dead. Hurriedly buried in a borrowed tomb. Now, it is Saturday of Passion Week. Sabbath day on the Jewish calendar.

It is pure speculation on our part. It is not, however, hard to imagine the turmoil of the disciples and the handful of Jesus followers in the hours after his death on the cross.

One by one, those brave enough to venture to Golgotha peeled away, leaning on each other for support. Some went their separate ways. Others huddled together in a room, isolated in fear, burdened by grief.

All we know of Jesus’ followers actions on the day after Jesus’ death is found in one simple verse.

“Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes. But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.” (Luke 23:56)

I don’t know about you, but the death of a loved one is unsettling. In the best of times, there is a measure of reflective memories of good times shared together. When the loved one fell victim of a particularly difficult death, there is a lingering replay of every image of the last moments…real and imagined.

How could it have been any different for the disciples of Jesus or for these women who loved him?

I suspect many of them followed Jesus to Calvary, pushing their way through a jeering crowd, hoping against hope that this was just a horrible dream. They saw him fall beneath the weight of the cross, weak from the scourging he just endured. They watched the soldiers viciously manhandle him as they stripped him of his clothes and nailed him to the cross. They could not turn away as he hung from the cross, watching each agonizing breath until it was finished.

Now, in the darkness of the evening, they replayed all those images in their minds over and over again. Through the night they could not shake those images. They could not shake the despair.

When Sabbath dawn broke that next morning, they abandoned all pretense of the sleep that never came. I imagine them looking to one another as they picked at their breakfast. “What now?”

In a telling moment, when their hearts were heavy with grief, fear and despair, they had every reason to abandon their faith. After all, the one in whom they had placed their trust was gone. But, when they were lost and as hopeless as they had ever been…despite the horrific memories…scripture says they observed the Sabbath.

They did in that moment what they did with Jesus every Sabbath he was with them. They stayed true to what Jesus taught them. They read God’s word. They prayed. They honored God.

I like that. It’s probably worthy of our attention. They honored God. They honored their memory of Jesus by doing what he would have done.

A week of study brought us to the foot of the cross. On this day between the cross and the empty tomb, perhaps it’s good that we remember the suffering of Jesus as a demonstration of the incredible love of God to send his son to die for us.

But even as we remember the horror, we honor God by our worshipful spirits on this day and our knowledge that the darkness of that night made the light of his resurrection shine that much brighter.

Via Delarosa by Lea Salonga, 2011

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.

Our Season of Uncertainty

Background Passage: John 20:19-21

Easter lies just around the corner. I began this week reading the extraordinary verses about Jesus’ journey to the cross, his death and his resurrection. The meaning of this time of year goes straight to the heart. I found something new as I read about the days between the cross and the resurrection. A word that has a message for us in this most unusual time of life…the season of uncertainty.

As we’ve moved from a period of self-quarantine to mandatory stay at home, we have seen the Covid-19 virus continue to spread across the country and across the world. The number of cases rise every day. The situation leaves us…

…uncertain

…isolated

…troubled.

…no longer in control of our circumstances.

Everything that is routine in our world has been turned sideways and upside down. Such disruption impacts each of us differently, depending on our personalities and our life situations. We know one thing for sure. Nothing is normal.

Those of us who profess faith in God know in our hearts that he is still in control. That while our lives have been temporarily and, in some cases, tragically changed, God has not changed one iota…the same, yesterday, today and tomorrow.

We have spent the last several weeks trying to figure out how to response and live faithfully amid this pandemic. Join me in the upper room. There are lessons in its shadows.

Jesus followers found their life irrevocably changed after they laid Jesus in the tomb. Everything that was routine in their world was turned sideways and upside down. Some of them claimed they had seen the risen Lord, scarcely believing their own eyes. The others dared not hope.

They heard rumors that the Jewish authorities were preparing to arrest any follower of the man they had crucified. So, they locked the doors. Shuttered the windows and rarely ventured outside the walls of the upper room.

The situation left them…

…uncertain.

…isolated.

…troubled.

…no longer in control of their circumstances.

What we know from scripture is that nothing that was happening was normal.

“On the evening of the first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews…”

Does it sound familiar? In the days following Jesus’ death most of the disciples found themselves in self-quarantine, huddled together in the upper room with a few other faithful followers of Christ. It was not a comfortable time for any of them.

I find my first lesson in this description, “…when the disciples were together…” They were able to quarantine together, locked away in the upper room…but, they were together. They found some comfort in contact with each other.

Certainly, the same applies to us. While we’re isolated in our homes, physically separated from friends and family, we have the great luxury of technology that keeps us connected…that allows us to stay in touch with one another. Telephone calls. Cards. Social media posts, Facebook messaging. Text messages. Facetime.

The point is there are many ways to reach out to friends and family other than through work, play, social gatherings or church. We can sit back and fret over our lack of touch or we can connect differently. No person within our community should go without some contact on any given day. Think about those who are truly alone. Make that a priority in your life to find ways to “be together.”

“…Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you’…”

Jesus appeared to the disciples because they needed to see him. They needed to feel his presence. They needed the peace that only he could give them. Imagine how calming those words were when uttered by their Messiah.

It should come as no surprise to us that Jesus, through his Holy Spirit, stands in our midst during our most trying times. How easy it is for us to forget this central truth of the Bible. God is with us. His presence brings peace in the middle of any storm…or pandemic.

“After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.”

Peace brings joy. When Jesus came into their midst, a sense of calm came over them. In that moment, sorrow and uncertainty became pure, unadulterated joy. When they were in the presence of their Lord, their worries disappeared.

It’s hard to imagine in today’s circumstances that we can find joy. We find joy in the presence of the Lord. We bask in the inner contentment knowing that we belong to him.

“Again Jesus said, ‘…As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”

Jesus did not want the disciples to let fear overwhelm them. He knew they could not stay locked away in the upper room forever. He needed them to do the things he called them to do. They had a purpose and he needed them to get on with it.

I know this take away from John is not what was intended. It is a message that reminds us that we serve a resurrected and living savior who died as an atonement for sin for all who put their faith and trust in him. That’s the gospel…the good news…of Jesus Christ.

I also know that the Holy Spirit can bring a secondary application to even the most straightforward of passages.

Being sequestered in our homes for a time undetermined does not mean our ministry ends. I suppose it might even open doors we might never have seen. Jesus stands with us, offer his peace and tells us he is sending us still to do his work.

I don’t know where or how God will use me and you during our unusual season, but I know he is sending us to bring a sense of certainty to the uncertain…to be a point of connection to the isolated…to offer a virtual hug and a word of comfort to the troubled.

God calls us to remind those who feel they have lost control of their lives that God is still on his throne…that he remains in control and will continue to work through us to bring good from the bad that threatens us.

And to that I say, “Amen.”

*****

Author’s Note: When we can do little else, we can pray for the strength and safety of the health care workers and all those who continue to work those jobs that provide needed and necessary services to the rest of us. Pray for those who have lost loved ones and for those who are sick. Pray for the families who cannot visit a loved one who is in the hospital. That time of separation makes everyone anxious. Pray for wise decisions and solutions to resolve and lessen the impact of the coronavirus and the economic burden it brings. Pray for anyone you know who lives alone. Pray that God’s church emerges on the other side of this with a renewed enthusiasm for being the heart, hands and feet of God in our world.

Reach out through any means available to you to stay in contact with one another. Love one another.

When the Axe Head Floats

Background Passages: 2 Kings 6:1-7; Proverbs 3:5-6

I don’t remember exactly when the tree in my in-laws’ back yard died or when they chopped it down. I just remember that the stump was in the way of a wooden deck they wanted to build.

I took my turn among the brothers-in-law wielding an axe, chopping through the thick roots of the once thriving oak. At one point as I pulled the axe over my head, the axe head came off and flew across the yard, leaving me holding the handle.

I have no idea why I thought about that this week. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered a similar story in the Bible. I had to search to find it, but I did. Some of God’s greatest lessons come from unexpected sources.

One reason to read the Bible is that we sometimes find practical life lessons through relatively unknown passages. God has a way of using the obscure to teach the what ought to be obvious. Timothy tells us as much, “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” (2 Timothy 3:16)

I found one of those nuggets of truth from the life of the prophet Elisha.

Elisha spent some of his time in ministry training a new group of God’s prophets. Who wouldn’t want to learn from this incredible man of God? God rewarded Elisha’s leadership by sending more and more men to sit at his feet.

At one point, the students came to the master and requested that they be allowed to cut down a few trees to build a new meeting house for they had outgrown the place where they were.

“Let us go to the Jordan and each of us get a pole and let us build a place there where we can meet.”

They were willing to do the work required. Commendable.

Elisha liked the idea and gave his permission.

The men held Elisha in such great respect that they asked him to accompany them to the Jordan River to find the best timber for the task. Elisha made the journey with them.

Here’s where the story gets interesting. One of the young prophets didn’t own an axe. Eager to be a part of what they must have considered God’s work, the man found a neighbor willing to lend him an axe.

When they arrived at the Jordan, each man found a suitable tree to cut down and the riverbed echoed with the sounds of iron on wood.

I can picture our young prophet wielding his axe, sending the chips flying as he cut into the timber. Then, in the middle of a powerful back swing, the axe head slipped from the handle, the force of the swing flinging it into the river with a heavy splash. The tool he borrowed buried itself in the muddy bottom of the Jordan.

“Oh no, my lord!” he cried out. “It was borrowed!”

It seems a small problem to us, but to this poor, young prophet it loomed large. Not only could he not finish his task, but the loss represented a significant financial burden. In those days, you see, an iron axe was a precious and expensive commodity. According to Old Testament law, if a man lost or damaged another man’s property, he was required to replace it or pay the cost of a new one. Chances are if he had to borrow it in the first place, he had no means of paying to replace it.

Many of our problems are like the one encountered by this young prophet. Through no fault of our own…at a time we least expect it…even while doing good work…we find ourselves facing a situation. We lose something of value entrusted to us. We find ourselves in financial difficulty beyond our means. We encounter illness or injury that collapses our world and leaves us wondering what we can possibly do.

That’s probably why the prophet cried to his master in such obvious distress. “Oh, my lord!” That’s probably why in our times of despair we cry out, “Oh, my Lord!”

Here’s the first lesson that comes to me from this story. It’s always best to learn to trust God before the problem comes. These young prophets were assigned an important task. When Elisha gave his permission, he didn’t intend to go with them. However, they trusted Elisha and needed his presence as they went about their task. As a result, when trouble came, when this man cried out in despair, his master was already there.

We fail ourselves, more often than not, when we think we are capable of dealing with life…both the good and bad times…without asking God to go with us. At the beginning of each new day, new task or circumstance, we ought to thank God in advance for his work in our lives. To being open to his guidance in every aspect of what we say and do. Then, when the crisis comes, we can cry out to him and knowing…trusting…that he is there.

The writer of Proverbs expressed it this way…

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he shall direct your paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

I can picture the man diving in the murky water to retrieve what he could not see. Hands groping along the bottom with the faint hope of touching the metal object. Each time he comes out of the water empty-handed.

He stands chest-deep in the river, water dripping down his face and off his beard. Anxiety written in his eyes. When he looked hopelessly at his teacher, Elisha asked him a question.

“Where did it fall?”

When the man pointed to the general spot in which the axe head sank, Elisha threw a stick in the river and…the iron axe head floated to the surface. How’s that for defying nature, Archimedes?

Then, in a remarkably practical moment, God’s prophet turned to the young man and said, “Lift it out.” He didn’t levitate into his hands. He didn’t pick it up himself. He asked the young man to do his part in the miracle.  The man waded through the water and grabbed what had been lost. After a moment of relief and celebration, the young prophet repaired the damaged handle and got back to work.

So, what’s the point?

I’ve never seen a floating axe, but I’m quite certain God has worked his wonders in my life…and in yours. He put people in my life at just the time I needed them, but I needed to take their hand. He opened doors of opportunity, but I had to walk through them. He whispered in my heart’s ear the solution to many a problem, but I still had to act. You see, God will meet our needs, but only as far as necessary for us to do our part.

Here’s how the story speaks to me.

Every day I rise, before I take a step, I need to ask God to walk with me through the day, trusting that he will honor that request. Believing in his presence brings a sense of hope, peace and purpose in the face of every problem I encounter. God will toss the stick in the waters of my life and give me the choice to pick up the floating chunk of iron or let it sink back to the bottom. He promises to do his part, but I must do mine, ever obedient to the leadership of the Holy Spirit in my life.

God will work faithfully in the lives of his children in our times of trouble and despair…in those times we cry out “Oh, my Lord!”

It’s my hope we all understand and embrace this truth long before the axe head falls in the water. Sooner or later, though, it will fall. So, next time you see the axe head floating on the water, pick it up.

Chase the Lion

Background Passages: II Samuel 23:20; Jeremiah 29:11

The list of places to see and things to do on our imaginary bucket list grows shorter each year. One particular trip remains unchecked. We want to go on a photo safari to Africa. After far too many trips to the zoo, I’d really like to see these magnificent animals in the wild…the way God intended them to be.

Certain movies create that kind of visceral response. The Ghost and the Darkness, a 1996 movie starring Michael Douglas and Val Kilmer, is one of those movies that triggers primal fear within me. The Ghost and the Darkness is based on a true story about the Tsave Man-Eaters…two African lions that terrorized the workers on the Uganda-Mombasa Railroad in western Kenya in 1898. Atypical of most lion attacks, Ghost and Darkness would stalk the campsite and drag their victims from the tents into the tall grass.

Work on the project ceased when the workers refused to enter the area. The railroad company hired famed British hunter, John Henry Patterson to track and kill the lions. In the story of man versus beast, the hunter became the hunted as the animals began intentionally stalking Patterson. Every time I watch it I find it absolutely terrifying. That we have yet to go on our photo safari may best be explained by that movie and my irrational fear of being mauled by a lion.

Maybe that’s why an obscure verse in II Samuel caught my eye.

“Benaiah, son of Jehoiada, was a valiant fighter from Kabzeel who performed great exploits. He struck down two of Moab’s best men. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion.” (II Sam. 23:20)

I don’t know why Benaiah felt compelled to jump into the pit with a lion when most of us would run the other way. It was cold. Snowing. Perhaps the lion’s ordinary prey grew scarce in the frigid temperatures. Maybe the lion was terrorizing the village. Regardless, Benaiah took it upon himself to chase the animal down. When it fell into a pit or tried to hide in a cave (depending on your translation), Benaiah jumped in after him.

If you stayed outside the pit like I would, you would probably hear the frightening roar of the angry lion and the shouts of a determined man. The sounds of a life and death struggle would echo from the depths. Then, silence. You might hear the scratching of someone or something scrambling up the walls of the pit. As you start backing away, you see a hand grab the overhanging tree branch. Benaiah drags himself out of the pit. He lies in the grass catching his breath, scratched and bloodied, but victorious.

In his book, Chase the Lion, author Mark Batterson uses this little known scripture to challenge the reader to face fear and chase the will of God even when the path looks far too difficult. He writes, “In every dream journey there comes a moment when you have to quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death. You have to go after the dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention.”

As Christians we are taught from the beginning that God has a plan and purpose for our lives. What most of us find is that the dream he gives us scares us. His will looks far too difficult. Our natural tendency is to reject what looks too hard. We look for an easier path. But, Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23) In other words, I should set aside my own will and desire to follow the more difficult path God has chosen for me…the one that requires me to take up his cross every day.

He doesn’t call us to play it safe. If that was his intention, we would have little need for him. No. The life he chose for us will not be easy, but the victory is already won. Later Jesus said, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

God’s plan for each of us requires us to chase the lion. That’s not always the most comfortable thing to do. We see the path God has laid out in front of us. Solitary lion tracks in the snow. A distant blood-curdling roar. Suddenly, we see clearly that God’s path takes us outside our comfort zone, especially when the path we want to take looks well-traveled. Smooth. Secure. Safe.

The Bible gives us examples beyond Benaiah of those who chose to chase…

Noah chased his lion onto the ark.
David chased his lion to Goliath.
Jesus chased his lion to the cross.
Peter chased his lion onto the water.
Paul chased his lion to Rome.

Lest we think such courage is best left to Bible characters…

Martin Luther tacked his lion’s carcass to the door of the cathedral.
The Pilgrims chased their lion to a new world.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer chased his lion to a Nazi concentration camp.
Martin Luther King chased his lion to Selma.
Billy Graham chased his lion across the earth.

Knowing the difficulty of the task to which God called them, each of these biblical and modern day heroes of faith probably wished to run the other way at some point. Instead, they chose to chase the lion. Maybe at some point, they heard the same voice Joshua heard when he fearfully scanned the Promised Land from the safety of his bank of the Jordan River. Maybe they, too, heard the voice of God saying,

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage. Don’t be afraid. Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

I don’t know what lions you’re facing. I know they all look frightening. I have faced a few of my own. All I know is that God wants us to chase his will. To follow where he leads. When we turn and run the other way, we’re missing out on the best God has to offer simply because it is his plan and not one we dreamed up on our own.

“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)

So when you hear the lion roar, know that his blessing comes in the chase. Our victory comes in the pit. Gather your courage and jump on in.

Help My Unbelief

Matthew 17:14-21; Mark 9:14-29; Romans 8:26-27

Life can change in a heartbeat. One moment we are dancing on the mountaintop. The next moment we are trudging through the muck in the valley. One moment buoyed in faith. The next set upon by a world cloaked in doubt.

Jesus moved so easily between his mountaintop experiences and those moments that surely sucked the breath from his lungs. We find one such episode following the Transfiguration. Jesus found himself wrapped in the arms of his Father God, strengthened by his Father’s presence. Within moments, he was immersed in a pitched battle of wills that stripped away the deep sense of peace he enjoyed at the top of the mountain.

Halfway down the mountainside
Jesus heard
the first echo of angry shouts.
Glanced at his three trusted friends,
heart beating faster.
Quickening their pace,
they scurried down the slope toward
the sound of madness.
In a heartbeat,
Jesus traded the
tranquility of the transfiguration
for the
frenzy of a fight.

Reaching the bottom of the path,
Jesus pushed through a bewildered crowd
to find his disciples squared off against
an equal number of scribes.
Hurling insults at one another.
Jesus stepped to the center of the melee.
The crowd grew quiet.
Silenced by Jesus’ sudden appearance.
The bitter argument of rivals
Ceased when Jesus stepped into the clearing.

His eyes shifted back and forth between
the scribes and
his disciples.
Jesus turned to Simon the Zealot
standing at the front of the disciples
Fists clenched.
Jaw set in anger.

Tilting his head toward the scribes,
Jesus asked in a wary voice,

“What are you arguing with them about?”

The quarrel erupted anew.
Each side shouting.
Pointing fingers.
Jesus cringed at the hostility.

Before Jesus could silence them,
a man grabbed his arm.
Caught his attention.
Something in his eyes convinced Jesus
to walk with him a short distance
from the heated confrontation.

“I brought you my son today…”

And the words flowed unrestrained.
First a halting trickle of detail.
Then a torrent of despair.
Unburdening his heart to a healer
concerning the nature of the severe illness
that plagued his son for years.
Growing worse with each passing day.
Sapping the boy’s strength.
Threatening his life.

“I asked your disciples to heal him
but they could not.”

The scribes who had followed from a distance,
erupted in laughter.
Seized the opportunity to belittle the disciples
and their master.
The failure of the disciples
opened the door for them to
discredit Jesus for their incompetence.

The disciples.
Seeing the pained look in Jesus’ eyes,
studied the ground at their feet.
Defiance before the scribes turned to
embarrassment and shame.

Jesus ran his left hand through his hair,.
Rubbed his eyes.
Smoothed his beard.
Deep in thought.
The shake of his head almost imperceptible.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips.
The master spoke quietly to his disciples.

“Oh, faithless generation.
How long shall I stay with you?
How long shall I put up with you?”

He turned to the father.
“Bring the boy to me.”

We learn something about Jesus in this passage that instructs us about living in the moment. Jesus just experienced the most moving moment in his earthly life. In the ultimate of mountaintop experiences, Jesus’ work gained affirmation from the father in the presence of Moses and Elijah. For a brief time, Jesus walked in the bright light of God’s presence and praise.

Every one of us can relate for all of us have longed to hear our father’s praise…to hear our father’s words of love. Jesus stood in the middle of a heavenly scene and heard his Father proclaim, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him.”

Can you imagine the overwhelming joy of that personal and poignant moment? More certain than ever of his role in God’s plan to redeem humanity, Jesus committed himself again to the cross. It was the assurance he needed.

Jesus shared that experience with his three closest friends. In the afterglow of the Transfiguration, I can see them standing in a circle with their arms around each other’s shoulders, foreheads almost touching in that prayerful and mind-boggling moment. Expressions of wonder plastered on amazed faces. “Did we see what we just saw? Did we hear what we just heard?”

What a tremendous moment of absolute joy!

Within the hour, though, Jesus found himself in the valley, facing yet another human crisis. He just reaffirmed his commitment to the cross only to find his closest followers baffled and beaten in the task for which he had called them from their tax tables and fishing nets.

In that moment when the disciples could no longer look him in the eye, Jesus must have felt the weight of the world again upon his shoulders. Gone was the aura of glory. In its place, the painful reality of the work that still needed to be done. To go to the cross would be difficult enough. The change human nature might be the more hopeless task. If he could not capture the trust of those closest to him while he was present among them, how could their faith survive the cross?

How often have our mountaintop experiences been followed by that which seemed hopeless? The joy of the mountain rarely survives the walk in the valley. In that moment of crisis, how do we cling to a shaken faith?

Jesus provided an answer. The savior didn’t let his moments of despair overwhelm him. At a time when he surely wondered if mankind would ever find the faith they needed, he did the one thing he knew he could do. He changed the circumstances of a little boy. He changed what he could.

Living as a Christian in an angry, despairing world challenges our faith. Begs us to make a difference. We wonder how we can impact a world that refuses to listen? What can one person do? We lose heart. Lose faith.

Jesus teaches us in this episode that we draw upon the reserves of faith energized on the mountaintop to enable us to deal with the inevitable valley moment. To not let the faithlessness of the world drain our energy or resolve. Jesus shows us that we fight through the episodes that discourage us, finding that thing we can do and doing it, rather than giving in to our despair.

That, my friends, is a lesson I need to learn in this day as I grow so frustrated with the rancid animosity and argument so prevalent in society. When I wonder what I can do to change the world I need only follow Jesus’ example. His example tells me to change what I can. We were not saved by God to stay on the mountain, but to get down in the valley and change what we can.

This passage teaches another great lesson about coming to terms with our struggling faith. God uses even our shrouded faith to accomplish his will. A little is often enough.

Join me back in the story. Jesus asked the father to bring the boy to him. The father obediently carried his boy to Jesus, standing him in front of the great healer. Immediately, the young boy suffered another seizure…violent and terrifying. As the boy fell to the ground trembling, I can imagine Jesus dropping to his knees, placing his hand on the boy’s chest, trying to quiet the tremors.

With his eyes never leaving the boy, Jesus asked the father, “How long has he been like this?” The question was not a medical inquiry. Rather, hear the heartfelt compassion Jesus felt for the misery suffered by an innocent child. The father shared more of the boy’s story and finally asked the favor he wanted to ask of Jesus when he approached the disciples earlier that day. “If you can do anything, take pity on him and help us.”

Jesus looked up at the father, “If you can?…” Hoping to see a glint of faith reflected in the man’s eyes. “Everything is possible for him who believes.”

With tears in his eyes, the father responded, “I do believe, but help me with my unbelief.”

What a true confession of this father’s heart. What a true confession of my own soul. He came seeking Jesus. When Jesus was absent, he thought he found the next best thing…Jesus’ disciples. Whatever faith he brought to the mountain was thrown to the wind by the disciples’ inability to help. The result left him so discouraged that all he could muster when Jesus asked his question was a whispered plea, “If you can…”

Face to face with Jesus, his fragile faith bubbled to the surface. Oh, how his words echo how I feel at times. “I do believe, Jesus. I believe, but I am so discouraged. Doubt is my constant companion. Please, Lord, take away the uncertainty and replace it with unquestioned belief.”

God moves when imperfect faith cries out to a perfect savior. Belief, though flooded with doubt, calls out to the only one who can fix that which is broken. “If you can….” The Father’s prayer is often my prayer. The father’s doubt is my doubt. The father’s reservation is my reservation. I live all too often in this shallow faith, hoping it is enough.

That’s always what I thought this verse taught as if God were saying “If only your faith were stronger, I could act upon your request.” I suspect there is a measure of truth in that interpretation. However, I look at the verse and wonder if Jesus did not hear the father’s profession of doubt-filled faith as sufficient. Might Jesus be telling him, “Listen, everything is possible for him who believes. Give me whatever faith you have, no matter how limited, because my belief in the father is big enough for both of us.”

Follow me again to the story.

Evening comes.
Jesus and his disciples
lay upon the roof of a house,
staring at the stars glittering the night sky.
Tired after a long day.
But sleep will not come.

In the silence surrounding them,
The disciples think about what happened.
Weeks prior they walked two by two
preaching, teaching and healing
in the power of God.
This morning,
when the father lay is son at their feet…
Dismal failure.
Humiliation.
Embarrassment.
From the mountaintop to the valley.

A raspy voice breaks the silence.
Maybe Simon the Zealot.
Mustering all his nerve,
asks the question all wanted to ask.

“Jesus,
Why could we not heal the boy?”

In this teachable moment, Jesus spoke quietly.
“This kind of thing requires prayer.
This kind of thing requires faith.”
Thinking back on the father with feeble,
but sincere faith,
Jesus added,
“Faith as small as a mustard seed
can move a mountain.”

Hyperbole? Maybe. But maybe this story hits upon the central truth of the matter. Jesus doesn’t ask us for perfect faith because we are imperfect. He asks for whatever faith we have to be placed in his hands…If for no other reason that he has enough faith in the grace, goodness and the power of God for all of us as he lifts our needs to the Father in heaven.

Paul shared this with the church in Rome.

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. He who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.”

Place at his feet whatever faith we have and he will take it to the throne of God with the perfect faith of the Spirit.

So, I like this story because we can identify at times with Jesus who came off this amazing mountaintop experience only to find disorder and disarray. Next time we come off a spiritual high, we can look amid the inevitable chaos, as Jesus did, for what we can do and we can do it.

Then, if we find our faith blanketed by the mist of doubt, like the father in the story, let’s give Jesus all the faith we hold no matter how small. Declaring before God, “Help us in our unbelief.” And knowing more that his trust in the Father is enough for all of us.

Plant your mustard seed. Move a mountain.