Personal Relationship – Page 2

Come To Bethlehem

Background Passages: Luke 2:1-20; Matthew 2:1-12

We often get caught up in the extraordinary events of that first Christmas.

- - An angel’s visit to a chosen, teenage girl.
  - A promised and pristine conception.
  - The birth of the Christ-child.
  - A choir of angels proclaiming “peace and goodwill” to everyone.
  - The shepherds’ worship of a Messiah.
  - The wise men’s gifts to a newborn king.

Yet, the Almighty God focused all the extraordinary acts of his perfect plan for the salvation of the world on the obscure, insignificant village of Bethlehem. Chosen from the beginning of creation as the place of the Messiah’s birth, God maneuvered the events of history and enabled the lives of his obedient people to open the gate of a stall and fill its manger with the perfect image of himself.

Sure. Prophecy told us it would be Bethlehem. Israel’s favorite king was born in the little hamlet and herded his sheep in the hills surrounding it. For hundreds of years it slept a few miles from Jerusalem and its Temple Mount. Until the day when Joseph, a direct descendant of David, obediently followed the governor’s law and made a five-day journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to fill out his census and pay his Roman required tax.

Why Bethlehem?

God could have used any number of better-known cities in Israel to call his king and send his son. Instead, he chose Bethlehem.

If you pay enough attention to God’s work in history, he seldom used the magnificent to achieve his purposes. Far more often, God chose the humble and insignificant. The ordinary and mundane. When it came time to sing the final stanza of salvation that would one day hang on a cross and be raised from the dead, God pointed the world to a tiny village using a star bright enough so all who were willing to follow would find the baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes.

God didn’t send a king. He sent a servant.

God didn’t send a conqueror. He sent a carpenter.

God didn’t choose the temple city of Jerusalem or the royal city of Tiberias. He chose Bethlehem.

Why Bethlehem?

Here’s my thought.

For most of the people of the world, the coming of Jesus to Bethlehem was, and is, a curiosity. A Nativity scene in the courthouse. A painting on a Christmas card. A phrase in a Christmas carol. A tidbit of trivia that changes nothing.

For Mary and Joseph…for the shepherds and the wise men…for me…the coming of Jesus to Bethlehem was, and is, personal and powerful. A God-purposed encounter that changed everything.

God, through his son, Jesus Christ, will never force his way into our lives. Rather, he hangs a star above a stable and invites us to come to Bethlehem. He lets his angels sing and invites us to come to Bethlehem.

We must come to Bethlehem, not for the cold glitter and gold of a palace or cathedral, but for the chance to feel the warmth of a child held in our embrace…God in human form…a child to be adored and loved and worshiped. You see, the where is not nearly as crucial as the why.

Why Bethlehem?

Because Bethlehem is a place where God becomes personal…and powerful. A place where you can find the answer to your greatest longings of heart and soul. A place to see Jesus as God’s gift to you…God’s gift to a hurting world. A chance to embrace Jesus as savior and be forever changed.

Why Bethlehem?

Perhaps its time to come to Bethlehem and see for yourself.

Lord, Teach Us To Pray

Background Passages: Matthew 6: 5-15; Luke 11:1-13

The young disciple laid on his back,
opening his eyes to a new morning.
Rubbing the stubble of his beard,
Jude propped himself up on one elbow.
Surveyed the scene unfolding around him
in the dawn of a new day.

Nathaniel.
Always an early riser,
stoked the fire.

Andrew.
Always helpful,
walked up the path from the Sea of Galilee.
A bucket of water in each hand.

Others engaged in various stages of waking.
Rolled up their sleeping mats.
Folded their blankets.
Tied their sandals.
Only John remained asleep.
Snored heavily while the world came
alive around him.

Jude stood.
Stretched and yawned.
Pressed both fists into the small of his back.
Worked the kinks out of a tired body
that slept all night on the rocky ground.
He nudged John with his toe,
eliciting a grunt and a grumpy,
“Go away,”
from the weary disciple.

“Breakfast, my friend.
You’ll be grumpier if you missed it,”
Jude chuckled.
“Rise and shine.”

Jude scanned the group looking for Jesus.
He spied him a short distance up the hillside,
sitting cross-legged.
Arms held loosely in his lap.
Leaning his head against a rock.
Engaged in his morning prayer.

“Every morning without fail,”
Jude mused,
marveling at how little sleep
their master seemed to need.

The disciples ate a quick breakfast of bread and honey
accompanied by the quiet conversation of close friends.
James wrapped some bread in a cloth,
saving it for Jesus.

The men cleaned the campsite.
Put out the fire.
Then, walked slowly and quietly up the hillside,
unwilling to disturb Jesus during his
morning prayers.
They stopped a few feet away.
Some knelt.
Some bowed their heads.
Some stood silently as their gaze settled on the
placid waters of the Sea of Galilee
far below.

Jude,
for his part,
never took his eyes off Jesus.
Watched his master with a
blend of curiosity and wonder.
No rabbi he had known spent this
kind of time in private prayer.
His whole demeanor so different from
the prayerful posturing of the Pharisees.
Eyes closed.
Arms resting in his lap.
Fingers interlaced,
dangling loosely in front of him.
Jesus was a man at peace.

After a few minutes,
Jesus breathed deeply.
Opened his eyes.
Raised his head.
Smiled at his disciples.
“Good morning.”

Stretching his legs in front of him,
Jesus caught the small loaf of bread,
James flipped his way.
Unwrapped it.
Began to eat.

The disciples probed about his plans for the day.
Tried to get a handle on what to expect.
Jude fidgeted throughout the conversation,
unsettled in heart and mind.
Unable to contain his thoughts any longer,
he blurted,
“Jesus,
I watch you like this every morning.
So deep in prayer.
Always by yourself.
It’s different from anything I’ve seen.
Different from anything we’ve seen.
The Pharisees shout from the rooftops.
You whisper in the wilderness.”

The young man’s observation took the
morning conversation in a new direction.
All eyes now on him.

Jesus nodded.
Encouraged Jude to continue.
“John taught his disciples how to pray.
Teach us to pray as John taught his disciples.”
A request from one seeking to
dip his bucket into the
deep well of faith.

Jesus looked at Jude
in the ensuing silence.
Glanced at the other disciples.
He grinned like an excited teacher
when his students asked the right question.
He leaned back against his rock.
Put his hands behind his head,
wiggled his hips as he settled for what he
hoped to be a fruitful conversation.
“You tell me.
How should we pray?”

A beautiful discussion followed
concerning one of the most
important aspects of Jesus’ life.
The disciples shared their thoughts,
each building upon the other’s understanding.
Finally, when they said all they knew to say,
they waited quietly for Jesus’ response.

Jesus explained that public prayer
should always be a part of worship.
A time to draw hearts to God in times of
reflection and praise.
But such prayer will never replace our private,
intimate conversations with the Father.

Jesus shook his head.
“When you pray,
do not be like the hypocrites.
They love to pray standing in the synagogues.
On the street corners just to be seen by others.
Truly, I tell you, they have received their reward in full.
Instead, when you pray,
go into your room.
Close the door.
Pray to your Father, who is unseen.

“Do not keep babbling like pagans.
They think they will be heard because of
their many words.
Do not be like them. Your Father knows what you need
before you ask.”

Then, he offered an example for their private prayers.
“When you pray, pray like this…

“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed by thy name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one. “

The disciples looked at Jesus.
Some still struggled.
Jesus elaborated.

“Suppose you have a friend…”
And the lesson continued into the morning.
Jesus challenged them to think about an
unwilling friend,
who repeatedly turned them away in
an hour of great need,
only to reluctantly open the door of his home to them
when they persisted in knocking.

Then another.
What father would give a son
a snake when he asked for a fish.
A scorpion when he asked for an egg.
“The point is this,”
Jesus said.
“If an unwilling friend will eventually help
and an earthly father responds properly to a child’s need,
how much more will your Father in heaven give
the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”

*****

Within these two passages rest Jesus’ most comprehensive teachings on prayer. Jesus may have taught this lesson twice…once in his Sermon on the Mount and once on another distant hillside. Those scholars who believe the Sermon on the Mount to be a collection of Jesus’ teachings may see these lessons as one incident. Either way, the passages beg a great question.

How should we pray?

I recently visited with my uncle, a Lutheran pastor, about the liturgical use of The Lord’s Prayer in modern worship services. The idea troubled both of us to a degree. What is repeated often can become stale and rote. I began looking at The Lord’s Prayer in the context in which Jesus introduced it to see if it made a difference in my thinking and in my practice.

Look first at the passage in Matthew. When one of his disciples first asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he didn’t immediately launch into The Lord’s Prayer. He first shared thoughts about the attitude in which we should come before the Father. Prayer, whether public or private, is no time of grandstanding. The Pharisees…the hypocrites…who prayed on the steps of the synagogue and street corners loudly proclaimed their righteousness…spoke eloquently, careful in their choice of words…infused their speech with the appropriate number of “thees” and “thous. ”Jesus said they may impress the folks, but they are not impressing God. Their incessant babbling will not be heard by God because they pray for men and not to God. The praise they receive from their fellow Pharisees for their powerful prose is all the reward they receive.

Jesus shared a parable once about the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. The Pharisee stood on the steps of the Temple, shouting his prayer to God, extolling his virtues and thanking God that he was not like the sinners kneeling nearby. The Tax Collector, on the other hand, would not lift his eyes to heaven, but beat upon his chest in remorse for all the sin in his life. He begged God for mercy and forgiveness. One was a self-serving attempt to tell God how righteous he was. The other was a humble plea of one who recognized his failures.

Jesus led them away from such demonstrative prayers. Jesus told his disciple to make prayer a private matter. Go into your room. Close the door. Take an intimate moment with your Father in heaven. But, does that negate the need for public prayer? Does it minimize the role of liturgical prayer?

Absolutely not! Prayer will always be an essential form of worship. Nor is there anything wrong with the liturgy of spoken prayer as long as neither of those become rote or carelessly offered. Prayer is our love language to God. It can and should be expressed in many different ways.

Pate Hughes was a kindly deacon in our church who passed away a few years ago. Frequently called upon to pray, Pate would approach the pulpit with such reverence. He spoke in a whisper, barely audible to the rest of us. I can describe his prayers as “heartfelt.” The rest of us were merely eavesdropping on an incredibly intimate moment between this man and his God.

Guard your attitude in prayer. That was the first point Jesus tried to make with his disciples.

When Jesus gave them this model prayer, I’m not sure his intent was to make it liturgical. I think his intent was to provide a guide as to the content of our prayers. What a model it is!

The prayer begins with two opposing, but delightful concepts. “Our Father.” An intimate phrase that speaks to our unique, personal relationship with one who we approach with reverence, recognizing his unmatched holiness. “Hallowed.” “Holy” is his name.

The next two phrases also run in parallel. “Your kingdom come.” “Your will be done.” These are petitions for God to establish his kingdom within us, to bend us to his will and way, both in the present time and the time to come. It conveys the idea that we desire God to rule in our lives daily.

Jesus also taught his disciples and us that there is a time to ask God for the things that sustain us…”Our daily bread”…and that which will cleanse us…”Forgive our sins.” He follows with a sincere request for God’s protection from the temptations the world puts in front of us and for the strength to resist that which the world makes so appealing. Seeking God’s help in forgiving those who hurt us.

Luke records Jesus’ promise that those things we need will be provided by a willing and loving Father. His story about knocking on the door of a reluctant friend is intended to tell us we don’t need to keep nagging God until we get what we want. Rather, look at the remarkable contrast Jesus offers.

“Ask and it shall be given. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened.”

Those verses stand not as a blank check for all we desire. God doesn’t simply grant all that we ask of him. I too often stopped my reading at verse 12. Look at verse 13.

“If you then, though you are evil (sinful), know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

The Holy Spirit is God’s greatest gift since salvation. It is the Holy Spirit that intercedes on our behalf for the deep desires of our hearts even when we have no idea what those desires might be. It is the Holy Spirit that steps between our prayers for things we don’t need and asks God to provide that which we do need. How remarkable that a gracious and loving God, through his Holy Spirit, will take our misguided prayers to give us what we need. Help us find what we seek. Open the doors that need to be opened to take us where he wants us to go.

What a promise he makes!

Prayer is an incredible opportunity to get in touch with a God who desires a close relationship with us. When we talk to God with an attitude of reverence and devotion, when we pray for God’s will to rule in our lives whatever that might mean, when we pray, confident in God’s provision, when we trust the Holy Spirit to carry our hearts to God, then prayer makes a difference.

The question of the disciple should echo in the deepest parts of our souls. “Lord, teach us to pray.”

Amen?

Amen.

Look For What’s Chasing You

Background Passages: Psalms 23:1-6

It played out almost as a modern day reality television show. God’s prophet traveled into the Judean hills near Bethlehem to find Jesse, a leading member of the community and the father of several sons. Displeased with Saul’s leadership as king, God told Samuel to anoint a new king from among Jesse’s sons.

After a lengthy sacrificial ceremony, Jesse paraded his sons in front of the prophet starting with the eldest, Eliab. One by one they came. One by one Samuel rejected them. Jesse never bothered calling his youngest from the field where he tended the sheep. Who would have considered the least of his children as the heir apparent to the throne of Israel?

Eventually, servants were dispatched to bring David to the house. As soon as he appeared, God made it clear to Samuel that David was his chosen king. Samuel poured oil upon David’s head, anointing him as the future king of his nation.

Can you even imagine that moment in David’s life? He knelt in front of Samuel more than a little bewildered at the ceremony unfolding around him. The look on his father’s face a blend of astonishment and pride. His brothers’ stood still, shocked at the unlikely turn of events. David bowed his head. Felt the warmth of the oil flow through his hair and down his cheeks. His mind racing. The prayers offered by Samuel were little more than a dull droning in David’s ears.

Then, it was over. With little preparation or fanfare, David packed a few things and followed behind God’s prophet as they returned to Samuel’s home. When they reached the crest of the hill, I suspect David looked over his shoulder at a home to which he would never return.

I wonder how long it took after that unlikely moment for David to realize how drastically his life had changed. The moment the oil streamed down his face, David’s life took a different path. His life would never be as simple. Never as sane. Never the same.

His life unfolded rapidly. Living in Saul’s palace. Slaying a giant. Alternately threatened and embraced by a mercurial king. Running for his life. Forging lasting friendships. Fighting battles. Hiding in the desert with a ragtag group of followers. Crowned as king. Ruling wisely. Making mistakes.

David’s long life passed as a mixture of spectacular achievements and dismal failures. Through his fame and his failures, his faith and his faithlessness, David always returned to his God.

I picture a time late in life as David stood on the rampart of his palace, gazing across the valley at the shepherds herding their sheep into the pen for the night. Maybe he envied the life he once had. Maybe he longed for the day when he could sleep soundly with his head on a shepherd’s rock rather than lying anxiously awake with his head on a king’s pillow.

I think it was a night like that when David wrote Psalms 23. Perhaps it was at the end of a chaotic day, that David remembered the Lord’s shepherding faithfulness throughout his life.

“…I shall not want…”
“…green pastures…quiet waters…”
“…a restored soul…”

“…a guided path…”
“…a troubled walk…”

“…no fear…”
“…you are with me…”
“…you comfort me…”

“…a table prepared…”
“…an overflowing cup…”

I read again this beloved Psalm in the middle of a frenetic and frantic week. I look back, as David did, grateful for God’s shepherding companionship. Then, I read the last verse of David’s familiar song with eyes opened to a thought I never considered.

“Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

The verse always struck me as a doxology, a closing statement meant simply to tie the psalmist’s thought together. David’s “sincerely yours” to those who might read his poem. Yet, this time I noticed so much more.

Note the confidence in his choice of words. David is convinced of God’s constant care in his life. He begins the passage,

“Surely…”

Take it as an absolute certainty…a no-question-about-it, without-a-doubt, kind of word. The psalmist is convinced of the words he speaks next because his life experiences proved its truth over and over again.

“…goodness and love (mercy)…”

David lives each day confident of God’s goodness and love.

What is God’s goodness? Think of every attribute you ascribe to God. Loving. Patient. Wise. Powerful. Truthful. Faithful. Comforting. The list goes on and on. God’s goodness is defined by his total character. All that he is, all that he will ever be, is good. There are other Psalms that express the sentiment.

“Give thanks to the Lord for he is good.”
Psalm 107:1

How great is your goodness which you have stored up for those who fear you.”
Psalm 31:19

David found God’s goodness in his provision…

“…I shall not want…”
“…a prepared table…”
“…an overflowing cup…”

David found God’s goodness in his peace…

“…green pastures…”
“…still waters…”
“…restores my soul…”

David found God’s goodness in his protection…

“…no fear of evil…”
“…rod and staff comfort me…”

The good news is that we can find what David found. God’s goodness remains the same today as it was before. He offers his children his provision, peace and protection. It is his nature. It is who he was yesterday. Who he is today. Who he will be tomorrow. God’s goodness is eternal.

What is God’s love?

David found God’s love, his mercy, in his unsurpassed gift of grace that extended his forgiveness to cover the ugliness of David’s sin. David found God’s love evidenced in his unwillingness to let David go despite his willful ways. David did some despicable things, yet God never gave up on the one who was “after his own heart.”

God’s love is what compels him to leave the 99 sheep to find the one. To turn his house upside down to find a single lost coin. To hike up his robe and sprint down the path when he sees his prodigal returning home. God’s love is found in his willingness to embrace the agony of a cross to redeem the unworthy…just like you. Just like me.

David’s song connects God’s goodness and love. Makes them inseparable. Not goodness by itself. Not love alone. Joined at the hip. Both. Together. As Max Lucado said, “Goodness to provide. Mercy to pardon.”

The picturesque imagery used by David resonates within us. Our eyes behold it and our minds take us where God wants us to go. But, there is still more. What struck me between the eyes this time was that God’s goodness and mercy, and all that it entails, will follow me.

Now, I see this in two ways. I can follow along with those with whom I agree. We walk side by side through life, content in the common things that bind us together. We follow along in step with one another.

God is chasing me in his goodness and love along the path of righteousness when I am so flush in the gifts of God that I run in exuberant joy, frolic in the refreshing shower of his blessings, and dance to the music of God’s grace. He follows me…running, frolicking and dancing… with me. He follows along…beside me…celebrating in delight that I am living in his will.

That makes me smile.

However, the Hebrew word used for “follow” also means “to pursue, to chase.” It conveys the image of a parent pursuing a runaway child. For my love of that child, I run after him to bring him back home. No matter where he goes. No matter how long it takes.

Isn’t that the way God works through my disobedience and trouble? God pursues me, holding forth his goodness and love, as I walk in the shadowed valley of death. When I take faltering steps in the darkness, feeling fearful and alone. As I struggle with my obedience. When I am mired in the mud and muck of my own creation. God hunts me down in the pits of my hell to wrap me in his goodness and love and draw me back to his side.

That makes me think.

Why would an all-powerful God do this?

God wants to ensure that, as one of his children, I will live in the abundance of his goodness and mercy all the days of my life. Because he wants to give me his manifold blessings, he will follow me through my fame and my failures, through my faith and my faithlessness, just like he pursued David.

If, like me, you find yourself standing on the rampart of your palace, longing for a shepherd’s life, know what David knew. God is a God of provision, peace and protection. He is a God that will follow you all the days of your life, no matter what you’ve done or where you go, to ensure that you will dwell in his house forever.

That, I hope, makes you smile.

Peace, Love & Joy

Background Passages: John 14:20-27; John 15:9-17

They sit in our utility room unopened. Last Christmas, we were asked to hold onto two gifts for my niece. One is a heart-shaped stool that belonged to her grandmother. The other a present for my niece’s daughter. My niece knows they are here. Life circumstances keep getting in the way. Like most of us, when she thinks about it, the time is not convenient to pick up the gifts. Then, it’s out of sight, out of mind.

So, here we are eight months later, the gifts still sit in our house, unclaimed. Hold that thought for a bit. We’ll pick this up again later.

*****

What a strong sense of melancholy Jesus must have felt as he stood in the corner of the upper room listening to the light-hearted banter, a carry-over from the excitement of his triumphant entry into the city that morning. His disciples, buoyed by the throng that met them outside the gates and the welcoming shouts of praise they heard that morning, gathered for the evening meal, exuberant and enthusiastic.

The savior knew his inevitable fate. Knew the echoes of praise now in their ears would ring hollow in the days to come. Scripture tells us the disciples, caught up in the moment, seemed clueless to the end game soon to play out on a hill outside the city. Jesus stood prayerfully in that upper room. So much to say. Would they hear? Would they understand?

Over the course of the evening, the mood grew progressively more serious. More somber.

Washing of feet.

Pronouncing betrayal.

Breaking of bread.

Sharing of wine.

This do in remembrance of me.

Gone was the fervor of the morning. In its place, confusion and concern. It was an evening filled with questions.

Peter. “Where are you going?”

Peter again. “Lord, why can’t I follow you now?”

Thomas. “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

Philip. “Lord, show us the father and that will be enough for us. “

Jesus spent these last moments available to him to teach again the truth of who he was. Offering comfort that only he could give to those who would, in a matter of hours, find their world flipped upside down. These questions are familiar to us…as are Jesus’ answers.

To Peter. “Where I go you cannot follow…”

To Peter again, “…I tell you the truth, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”

To Thomas. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…”

To Philip: “Anyone who has seen me has seen the father…I am in the father and the father is in me…”

In response to their growing fears, he promised they would never be alone. That he would send a comforter and counselor. In the middle of that expansive narrative, he offered words we often forget.

“On that day, you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me and I am in you.”

Much of my personal Bible study over the past year explored what it means to live in the image of God. How are we to live the Christ-like life we are called to live? Given our sinful nature, it feels almost impossible. Yet, verse after verse of scripture shows us how…revealed in the life of Christ. This verse offers as great a hope that I can live in God’s image as any I’ve discovered. “…I am in my Father, and you are in me and I am in you.”

Living in the image of God is as simple as allowing Jesus, who is in us, to be the boss of our lives. To take control of every aspect of it. Of course, that’s easier said than done. I know. I fail miserably at it each day, it seems. Yet, the greater possibility exists that I can respond to the challenges of this world as God would like for me to respond because his presence in my life is a constant.

Give that some thought. He is in me. He is in you.

As the narrative in John 14 and 15 continued, Jesus touched upon three attributes of his life that he gifts to us when we place our trust in him. These teachings stemmed from yet another question asked by a disciple we don’t hear from often…Judas, not Iscariot, sometimes called Thaddaeus.

“Lord, why do you intend to show yourself to us, but not to the world?”

Thaddaeus missed the point. Jesus tried explaining to him and the other disciples that he reveals himself completely to those who call upon him. Those who place their faith in him. Those who love him. People who live by the world will never understand Jesus until they open their hearts to him.

The teachable moment continued. Jesus gave us more insight into his character, offering that which he possessed to his disciples, and by extension, to us. It comes as a gift, one we will need to accept if we are to live like Christ.

“Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. “

The world’s idea of peace is the absence of conflict. We know from Jesus’ life that living as he lived will not end struggle, but may in fact, add to it. Jesus said, “My peace I give you.” What is the peace he gives? William Barclay says it conveys the idea that we have all we need for our “highest good.” He wrote, “The peace the world offers is the peace of escape, peace that comes from the avoidance of trouble.” The peace Jesus offers, Barclay says, is the peace which “no experience of life can take from us.” A peace that is not dependent on life’s circumstance.

Jesus lived his whole life under the shelter of this peace, woven into his spiritual DNA. It was an essential part of who he was. Despite all he was sent to do and all he had to endure, Jesus’ spirit was never threatened.

His peace is part and parcel of the gift of salvation. As he lives in us, his peace is gifted to us. Not just any peace, but his peace. The same spirit of peace that carried him through every temptation, every trial, every test exists within us as his gift to those who know him. We just have to claim it and remove it from its box, allowing it to pervade every corner of our being. Living in the image of God, in the image of Christ, means abiding in his peace.

A few verses later in Chapter 15, Jesus continued his teaching to the troubled disciples. He asked them to picture a grapevine, declaring himself the vine and urged them to see themselves as the branches who can and must bear fruit.

Buried in that familiar passage is another verse that speaks to the very nature of Jesus Christ. Jesus personified love. It motivated everything he said and everything he did. He felt the all-encompassing love of his father and passed that love on to those he encountered. Love filled his heart and soul.

“As the father has loved me so I have loved you. Now, remain in my love…love each other as I have loved you.”

He revealed the depth of his love for those who believe in him…“as the father has loved me so I have loved you.” He loved his disciples, he loves us, with all the love the Creator holds for his created. It is not that way in a world without Christ. The world loves until it is disappointed. The world’s love turns quickly to ambivalence or hate, again, based on outside circumstances.

Jesus told his disciples to remain in his love. What is Jesus’ love? He provided the illustration.

“Greater love has no man than this, but to lay down his life for a friend.”

We are called to love one another. That’s not just a call to love other Christians. We are called to extend God’s love to our fellow man. Few of us may be called to mortally sacrifice our lives for another as Jesus did. Each of us, however, is called to personally sacrifice in service to those in need. Such selfless sacrifice provides evidence of our love.

The great news is that because he abides in us, we don’t need to rely on our human capacity to love. We get to draw from the deep well of God’s all-encompassing love within us. What a gift!

We see in the scripture that God has given us his peace and his love. He didn’t stop there. He urged his disciples to remain obedient to all he had taught them; to all God called them to do. Obedience to God’s will opens his gift of joy.

“I have told you this so my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Living as the world lives is easy. It requires little stamina. One just floats with the flow regardless of where it leads. Jesus told his disciples that his way was hard. Living in the image of God, standing firm in faith, demands we swim against the prevailing current. Yet, despite the difficulty surrounding the Christian journey, the path we follow ought to be joyous.

There is always joy in doing the right thing. Joy in living a purposeful life. Joy in letting Christ control your day to day living. In knowing you have been true to the commands of Christ.

Jesus lived his life on earth as the personification of peace, love and joy. These fruits of the spirit were embedded within his nature. They are part of the image we hold of him. A part of who he was as a man. Despite the rigors of his mission and ministry, no outward circumstance would ever strip from him that essential part of his spirit and personality.

Peace.

Love.

Joy.

Those life-sustaining characteristics he embraced are now embedded in all who believe in his name. He promised it! “You are in me and I am in you.” He gifted his peace, his love and his joy to each of us.

Here’s the thing. It’s not just that he put the capacity to experience these things into our hearts for us to develop and grow. His peace, love and joy in its fullnes reside within us already fully developed and available through the presence of the Holy Spirit. The indwelling presence of Christ in the form of the Holy Spirit gives us access to the heart of Jesus…to the all-to-often untapped potential and power of Christ in us.

To his peace.

To his love.

To his joy.

These great gifts sit in the utility room of our hearts waiting to be claimed. They will never be enjoyed and experienced until we pick them up. Take them home. Put them to good use. Our unclaimed gifts of the God’s Spirit keep us from living as the image of God.

Jesus said, “My peace, my love and my joy I give to you.”

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time we opened the package.

God Is At Work

Habakkuk 1:1-5; 2:4, 14, 20; 3:17-18; and Romans 8:28

Lately, we watch the news with a sense of morbid dread, waiting for another work of wickedness to destroy our comfortable complacency and erode the innate innocence of our children and grandchildren. I must admit God and I had a “come to Jesus” meeting over the past few days.

I shook my fist a little. Lashed out a bit. Questioned how he could sit by and watch events in Florida unfold without intervening. I finished my little fit and waited. Getting no immediate response, I huffed a bit more and went back to my worry and work.

It felt like an Old Testament week as I prepared for this devotional. I was in “an eye for an eye” mood. I scanned pages of scripture and read about Jeremiah complaining bitterly to God about the unfairness in the world around him. How evil men grow powerful and prosper. How righteous suffer. Jeremiah shook his fist at God.

Elijah hid in a cave. The prophet who had just won a major test of faith now cowered in a cave after being threatened by an angry and vengeful Jezebel. He complained balefully that he was the last godly man standing. That God had stepped aside, allowing him to be hounded and chased. Elijah shook his fist at God and wanted to die.

I read again about Job, God’s long-suffering servant. Plagued by calamities not of his making. Criticized by his friends. Struggling with the loss of those he held dear. Job lashed out critically to the Creator. “What does it profit us if we pray to him?” Job shook his fist at God.

I get it Jeremiah. I know where you’re coming from Elijah. I understand Job. That’s exactly how I feel.

Then, my eyes settled on Habakkuk. I didn’t intend to stop here. No one does a devotional on Habakkuk, right? But, this prophet joined me in shaking his fist at God so I kept reading.

In three short chapters, I discovered a God big enough to take my frustration and teach me about his presence and his purpose even in the middle of a perverse week.

Habakkuk spoke at a time when evil men ruled the day, punishing the righteous, inflicting violence upon them. “Why do you make me look at injustice?” lamented the prophet. “Why do you tolerate wrong? How long must I cry for help?”

My heart aches as Habakkuk’s aches. I see innocent children slaughtered again in a world run amuk. “Why, God, do we keep seeing this? Why do you put up with it? How long must we cry out for help?”

God’s answer to Habakkuk started a transformation in his outlook on life…an answer that lifted my own sagging spirit.

“Look at the nations and watch–and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” (Hab. 1:5)

All that questioning I did…this was the start of God’s rebuttal. “Look, Kirk. I didn’t cause the wickedness in the world. Human choice creates catastrophe and chaos. Your choice. Their choice. My job is to work through tragedy using people of faith to restore the broken. Redeem the lost. Rescue the troubled. I know you don’t understand. I could explain it to you, let you in on the secret, but you wouldn’t believe it.

“Know this. You are not alone. Those who are hurting most are not alone. I can carry you, carry them, through this. I will never abandon you. Despite your sorrow and struggles, I will never give up on my children. I am at work even if you can’t see it.”

Every one of us who love and trust God can look back through our lives and see the hand of God at work through the best and worst times of our lives. In those times, when we seemed to be abandoned and alone, we can now see the winding path he guided us down to emerge from the haze into a clearer understanding of his presence in our lives. I think about those times in my life and…God’s right. Had he told me how he planned to bring me through the struggle, I would not have believed it possible.

I kept reading through the book and found these declarations of eternal truth God spoke to the prophet.

“…the righteous will live by his faith…” (Hab. 2:4)

Habakkuk was blind to the work of God as he stood there and complained. God said to him, “Trust me. Have faith in my work even when you see no evidence of it.” Like an arrow, the words pierced the anxiety in my heart.

Living by faith is a hard pill to swallow when we’re sick to our stomachs over what we see happening around us. It sounds so cliché. Yet, faith is often the only answer we have…at least in the beginning. God would eventually use Habakkuk’s voice to bring about his intentional plan for redemption. When I have no answers, faith is enough. Perhaps my faith in him…my trust, my belief…can touch those troubled by tragedy.

Two other verses offered a message of hope and promise to the prophet. The strife caused by evil evaporates in the face of God’s presence. Though the bad seems to reign, its power will fade.

“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea…The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.” (Hab. 2:14,20)

Our pain in the middle of tragedy cannot be denied. I cannot imagine the grief of parents and family in the aftermath of such insanity. While we seldom claim the promise of God’s eternal victory in the middle of tragedy, grief-inspired blindness doesn’t make it any less true. God will conquer. I take heart in understanding in my core the simple truth that pain and suffering around me is temporary and transient…especially when considered on an eternal scale.

God sits on his throne. Like any good ruler he knows his kingdom and his people. His anguish over our suffering is real. When we seek an audience with him to complain bitterly of that which hurts us, he listens. He is big enough to handle our confusion, our anger, our frustration, our disbelief. When our emotion is spent he reminds us that he walks among us through life’s mud and muck.

That’s why the hue and cry to put God back into our schools sits so uneasily in my bones. God never left our schools. There are people of faith teaching and serving in every public school in America. There are prayers lifted up daily on behalf of children and families. There are children and young people who lift up prayers every day in the halls and classrooms across America. Heartfelt prayers far more meaningful than a rote or recited prayer over the intercom.

Still his presence was not enough to prevent another senseless act. Why? Not because we “took God out of our schools.” Evil gets its way because we forced God out of our lives, not out of our schools. Stop making God political. Make him personal. Then, and only then, can he make an impact in and through us.

Here’s the truth I know. God is on his throne. God is present in the lives of all who believe…in school and out. Always has been. Always will be.

Without question, the senseless school shooting in Florida tested my faith this week. I struggle for words in the moment for those most touched by such devastating loss. I struggle for answers on how we might prevent such madness from ever happening again. Right now, I have no words. No answers. While I will keep searching, I have only my faith that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose.” (Rom. 8:28)

Make no mistake. God is at work today. I may not see it. I may not understand it, but he is at work.

The book of Habakkuk ends with the prophet’s faith renewed and restored. Despite not knowing the end game, Habakkuk rested in the strength of his faith. He accepted as I do that despite every intrusion of wickedness that creeps into our lives, whether by our own design or the horrific act of another, God will create the best plan and path through it.

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Hab. 3:17-18)

Amen.

Walk a Mile in Their Shoes

Author’s Note: I originally published this devotional two weeks ago, but my blog site developed some issues. While it posted on my personal webpage, www.drkirklewis.com, it did not get sent to my subscribers or shared on my social media pages. We’ve managed to repair our social media access (I think), but the subscriber links are still down. We’re working on it and hope to have things back in order soon. I sincerely apologize.

Background Passages: Hebrews 13:3; Luke 6:31-36; Philippians 2:5-8

Cecil Rhodes, the British statesman and financier who used his wealth to endow the famous Rhodes Scholarship, had a reputation for his elegant fashion sense and impeccable dress. One year, Rhodes invited one of his scholarship recipients to his home to dine with him and a number of England’s well-to-do.

The young man came from a poor family. He wore his best suit to dinner, though stained and a little too small. He was embarrassed upon his arrival to find all the other guests in full evening dress. Rhodes, dressed in his tuxedo, was about to enter the dining room when he saw the young man and his discomfort. He went back upstairs, appearing at the dining table a few minutes later in a shabby, old blue suit.

Rhodes understood the distress the young man felt. Rather than add to the misery of another, he set aside his personal preference to connect with this young man of promise.

Empathy.

Empathy feels what another feels. Sees the world from another’s perspective. Understands as fully as possible what another experiences. It is one thing to feel, see and understand the life of another. It’s a great first step. But, it seems to me, true empathy compels us to act…to walk an extra mile.

We can imagine horror experienced by the family whose home is wiped out by flood or fire. We have difficulty at times imaging the struggles of learning disabled when learning comes easily to us. We struggle in our response to those who are depressed if we ourselves have never experienced hopelessness. Empathy is difficult.

Empathy is also inconvenient, especially when life is going our way. I can see the plight of the poor and the afflicted, but do not wish to sully my hands in the work it would take to help them work through their own difficulties. We rationalize the distance we keep by blaming them for their own predicament.

As he closed out his letter, the writer of Hebrews exhorted believers to “Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.”

Those encouragements go far beyond simply feeling sorrow or sympathy for those who are troubled. It calls upon us to feel with them as if the suffering were our own. To put ourselves in their shoes. To see the world…and ourselves…through their eyes.

Jesus, the personification of God’s empathy toward a lost world, shows us the full expression of empathy as he introduces to us his concept we know as the Golden Rule. He taught that one could sum up the entire content of the Old Testament law and prophets by “doing to others what you would have them do to you.” To act in ways toward others as you wish others to act toward you.

The concept Jesus introduced was not a new concept. Many other religions and philosophies offer a similar message, though often presented in negative form. In ancient Egypt, the statement read, “That which you hate to be done to you, do not do to another.” In ancient Greece, “Do not do to others that which angers you when they do it to you.” Self-preservation is not empathy.

When Jesus asks us to treat others as we want to be treated, he is not saying: “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” It’s so much more than that. It is a proactive directive. Empathy takes pre-emptive action to meet the needs of others because we feel the distress as if it were our own. So, we act, treating others as we would hope others would treat us if we found ourselves in similar circumstances.

We’re not simply to avoid doing things that hurt others because we don’t want to be hurt in the same way. Instead, every action toward others should be expressed in the love of Christ. He’s saying: Take the risk of giving your time, your energy, your resources…in essence, giving yourself… to ease the pain of another whether that person is a friend or stranger.

Jesus followed this command by telling us how to live an empathetic life. He explained, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that…Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything in back…Be merciful (other translations use the words ‘compassionate,’ ’empathetic’), just as your Father is merciful.”

Living a Christ-like life teaches us that religion and faith are not a just set of beliefs. It is not the dogma of the day. Christianity, if it is to be viable and real in our lives, is about what we do for the poor with too little to eat, too little to wear and little or no shelter over their heads. It is about what we do for the sick and the elderly, in desperate need of our touch. It is about what we do for the disenfranchised of society who find themselves distanced from the opportunities we enjoy.

Jesus teaches us that empathy, as difficult and inconvenient as it can be at times, ought to compel us to act differently when we encounter human need. To understand the needs of others as if they were our own.

We have the perfect example in the life of Christ. Paul said as much to the Philippian church.

“Your attitude should be the same as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness.” Leaving the throne of God to become man is the ultimate in empathy. A deliberate, purposeful, life-giving act of empathy that led straight to the cross.

Today, it seems most people walk the world blind to the feelings and needs of others. If they disagree with us, if they live differently than us, if they respond to the challenges they face in ways we would not, we chastise them for not reacting as we assume we would react in similar circumstances. I’m not sure we will ever impact the world for Christ until we can walk a mile in their shoes.

I hope God challenges all of us this week to embrace the empathy of Christ as we encounter the needs of the world around.

Let Your Light Shine

Background Passages: Matthew 5:14-16, Proverbs 16:7, and John 16:33

As a child, my parents took us to Carlsbad Caverns. The natural formation descending into the New Mexico prairie was an impressive sight to an eight-year-old. Walking into the cave and among the stalactites and stalagmites, it felt as though I walked in an alien world.

A one point in the guided tour, the park ranger gathered everyone around and turned out the lights. I don’t remember seeing anything so dark as that moment. It was pitch black painted on ebony. I will admit now what I never admitted then. It was frightening. After about 30 seconds of absolute darkness that seemed far longer, he lit a candle. One single candle penetrated the darkness that surrounded us, casting a welcoming glow across the cavern. He then lit the candle held by another ranger and they, in turn, lit candles held by the adults on the tour. By the time all the candles were burning, it was as bright as day…at least to this frightened eight-year-old.

What a metaphor for the power of God’s light in a world smothered in darkness!

We live in an angry and bitter world filled with voices attempting to draw us into a personal and political conflict, baiting us with hateful words saturated with images of a dark world no one wishes to see. Neither side of the issues we face are innocent of the confrontational atmosphere that pervades our conversations and our messages in social or mainstream media. Spiteful words sow the field of discontent. As a result, personal relationships, many of which had lasted a lifetime, litter the trash heap.

Sadly, many in the Christian community get sucked into the vortex and react in ways that surely make our Father wince in pain. How are we to respond when our beliefs, whether religious, personal or political, fall under attack? What is the Christian response to the darkness that surrounds us? I came across three verses this week that seemed to answer those questions for me.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden, nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:14-16

We are called to be a light to the world. It is an expectation…a given. When we accept Christ as our savior, he expects us to live by his standards, obedient to his teaching. He expects us to be stand out from the crowd as a living example of godliness and goodness. We are light to the world when our good works, the things we think, say and do, reflect the glory of the Father… candle that sheds its light and offers its hope. When all Christians behave in that manner, darkness doesn’t stand a chance.

Then in Proverbs 16:7, the wisdom writer says, “When a man’s ways please the Lord, He makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.”

Hateful speech drives a wedge between us. Kindness binds the wound. A man’s ways can only please the Lord when he is living a Christ-centered life–faithful, just and charitable. If that is the life one lives, the world is captivated by the visible testimony of gentleness, empathy and understanding. It is hard to remain angry with someone who listens, who goes the extra mile to serve, who treats others with sincere respect and who loves unconditionally as Christ loved the world. The proverb speaks to the far-ranging influence of goodness—how it inspires friendship and love, offers no grounds for argument, disarms even the most vocal opponent and spreads an atmosphere of peace and understanding. These are reconciling actions we should bring to the world

We are reconciled with those who stand against us only when we are first reconciled to God. When we live the life he requires of us, we cannot remain angry and bitter. When we live the life he requires, even those who believe and behave differently than us, find common ground and find it difficult to stay angry and bitter.

Dealing with a world that is often at odds with Christian beliefs is an important part of life; an important part of our witness. When we treat others right, peace among us is usually the natural response. But, there is more power behind our actions than our own ability to bring about understanding. God blesses our most challenging relationships if we live within his will. Our behavior can certainly mitigate the anger of others, but God can also be at work in the lives of those we encounter to calm the anger within their own hearts.

Peace in our relationship with others sprouts from our own righteousness–not in our hostility, nor our acts of reprisal. Godly living pleases both God and men, but hatefulness fosters more anger, more bitterness. To be that light in the darkness we must live and act in ways that please God.

The final verse I read stands as a promise to all believers weary of the discord that surrounds us. To those of us struggling to find hope in an environment of increasing hopelessness. Jesus shared a needed message with his disciples at a time when they were filled with despair and he shares the same message with us.

“These things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

If the world falls deeper into despair this week, burn as a light amid the darkness. Make your life a reflection of Christ. If your light doesn’t seem bright enough, rest in the peace that God offers his children, secure in the promise that whatever hold the darkness has upon us today is temporary. He has overcome and, in his arms, so will we.

Keep your candle burning.

The Gilded Cathedral

Background Passages: Matthew 23:25-28; James 2:14-18

My wife and spent the last two weeks celebrating our 40th anniversary on a Baltic Sea cruise. We started with a side trip to Spain before boarding a ship in London for Norway, Denmark, Estonia, Russia, Finland and Belgium. As with most of these European vacations, every stop featured palaces, castles and cathedrals.

I stood before each church and cathedral awestruck by the size and scope of the construction, thinking about how the architects of old created inspiring buildings worthy of God’s presence. Today, these massive facades still rise high above the surrounding neighborhoods, dominating city skylines with ornate spires and mammoth domes that reach toward heaven. Intricate carvings covering the face of each cathedral serve as silent and lasting testimony to the skill of the collection of artisans who spent centuries, in some cases, creating these magnificent houses of worship.

As I stepped inside and allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within, I marveled at the invaluable artwork that filled each sanctuary, drawing my attention always forward toward the marbled and gilded altars. I find it difficult to wrap my arms around the wealth represented in the gold-plated structures filling these halls.

A thought dawned on me as I stood in the back of the nave of St. Peter and Paul’s Cathedral in St. Petersburg, Russia, staring at the gilded altar rising to the ceiling. Inching my way through the milling throng of tourists snapping pictures, jabbering nosily, jockeying for position to catch a glimpse of whatever the tour guide highlighted, I felt a profound sense of loss. I stood in a magnificent house of worship, yet nothing about the chaotic atmosphere within resembled worship.

I sincerely appreciate the beauty and boldness of these magnificent churches, even though the opulent style challenges my simpler tastes. The beauty is wasted when you realize that few of the cathedrals offered more than the occasional worship service. Most served only a secular function, reflecting the history of time gone by. Museums to extravagance. Mausoleums for a faith dying of apathy.

Statistics tell us that the Christian faith in Europe has been on a steady decline for decades. Fewer than 10 percent of the populations in Norway, Denmark and Finland attend church regularly. Those who profess a faith in Christ stand in absolute minority among the citizens of Scandinavia and northern Europe. Did the extravagance of the buildings contribute in any way to the decline in faith, or was it something more personal?

As I sorted through my distress over the decline of faith and the emptiness of these sanctuaries of worship, I recalled an encounter Jesus had with the Pharisees late in his ministry. The conversation was one of Jesus’ most direct and confrontational messages to the religious leaders of his day.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence…You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” –Matthew 23:25-28

With those words Jesus reminds me that the decline of faith evident in Europe and in our own country has far less to do with the physical appearance of our buildings than it does the spiritual application of my heart. Jesus reminds me that I can play the part, speak the words, construct a beautiful façade as I proclaim myself a Christian, and still my heart beats as empty and devoid of worship as those amazing cathedrals. I can gild myself in gold, putting up a grand façade, but never demonstrate God’s love to a lost and dying world.

Cathedrals and churches echo with emptiness across the world because our deeds do not match our faith. James spoke to this.

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such a faith save them? Suppose a brother or a 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, is dead. But some 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

Sadly, I’m sure there are times when those men and women searching for answers to faith’s questions see me as a gilded cathedral. An empty shell hiding behind a gilded face. Christ-like in outside appearance, but without the deeds to back it up. Such is the height of hypocrisy.

A cathedral without worship is a museum. Faith without works a mausoleum. How much better would it be for us to be plain an unattractive to the world, but open to God’s presence as we serve and minister to his people?

At the end of the day, these beautiful cathedrals sit idle because the people forgot what it meant to serve. Forgot what it meant to invest themselves in the lives of those they encountered. Our modern churches run the risk of becoming silent witnesses to our dying faith unless those of us who profess Christ act faithfully on his behalf in service and ministry to those we encounter today and tomorrow.

For the sake of our country and our faith, I pray we’re up to the task.

Breaking Into My Happy Dance

Background Passages: Ephesians 5:1, 15-17; Psalm 118:24, 29

I usually don’t watch the news. I spent far too much of my professional career being interviewed by reporters, hoping that the editing process would maintain the integrity of my comments. Too often full disclosure was sacrificed for a tidy sound bite. As the media grows more politically polarized, corporate bias destroys the objectivity of the press.

With little to do this week because of an empty calendar and heavy rains, I ended up watching more news that I ordinarily watch. The stories were anything but uplifting.

• Devastating earthquakes in Ecuador and Japan.
• Disastrous floods in southeast Texas.
• Deadly acts of terrorism.
• Destructive politics at home and abroad.
• Declining civility toward those whose beliefs differ from our own.

It is any wonder that polls say people are more anxious today about the quality of life than ever in recent history. I must admit to falling victim, at times, to the tone and tenor of today, anxious about tomorrow and the world our children and grandchildren will inherit. As I turned off the news, I remember thinking, “Surely there is a cave on a deserted and isolated island where I can shelter my family from the horrors of the world.”

Later that day I stumbled across an old Peanuts cartoon drawn by Charles Schultz. I had grown up with Charlie Brown. I think I read most of the 17,897 comic strips Schultz penned during his 50-year career. In this particular comic strip Charlie Brown sat alone on the curb with that typical forlorn expression on his face, thwarted at every turn by life. With a hint of resigned optimism, Charlie Brown said…

The cartoon made me smile and marvel at how God uses such ordinary things to remind us that his presence in our lives trumps every shred of doubt, disquiet and dread. As a Christian in a world in turmoil it is sometimes difficult to walk in confidence. How are we supposed to face life’s uncertainties and our own insecurities when it seems the world around us has gone mad? How do we stop being anxious about all that we see happening around us?

Sorry, Charlie. The answer does not lie in dreading only one day at a time. Paul gave us a clue in his letter to the Ephesian church as they struggled to live in a world in equal turmoil as our own. Look at Ephesians 5:1, 15-17…

“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children, and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us…Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore, do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.”

We come to grips with a crazy world by imitating God, living a life of love as modeled by Christ himself. We don’t fix the world’s problems by retreating from it or bemoaning its existence. We heal its sickness by loving it more. By serving it more. By sharing the alternative. Paul tells us that in the midst of evil days, we must live wisely, make right choices, follow the will of God as we understand it. And this might be the key… Our efforts can’t be uninspired or halfhearted. They can’t be judgmental and condemning. We must make the most of every opportunity God gives us to share his grace and love to a lost world.

Making the most of every opportunity allows us to see every day as a gift from God. Another chance to serve him. Another chance to love. Another day to care for those in need. Another day to rejoice. Another day to celebrate.

Charlie Brown suggested that we get the most out of the life when we are thankful for each day. When he discovers how blessed he is he goes into his happy dance…

The Psalmist said it this way…

“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever.” — Psalm 118: 24, 29

God, thank you for this day and the many unmerited blessings you have showered upon us.

Maybe today, instead of watching the news, I’ll just break into my happy dance.

*****

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Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’

We sat on the floor in the middle of my son’s living room on Christmas morning, amid open boxes and scraps of torn wrapping paper. My grandsons, Eli and Josiah, laughed and played with new toys that had quickly become their favorites. Snatching Josiah into her lap as he danced across the floor in delight, my wife, Robin, hugged our youngest grandson and wished him, “Merry Christmas.”

Continue reading “Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’”