Tag: Faith

I Can Do All This

Background Passages: Philippians 4:4-13

Richard Swenson, author of Contentment: The Secret to Lasting Calm, tells a story about his seven-year-old granddaughter who accidentally stepped in a pile of dog droppings with both tennis shoes. Together, she and her dad found a suitable stick, sat down on the curb and began scraping the mess from the treads of her shoes.

After a few minutes the little girl stopped. She looked at her Dad and then at the brown stuff now piled in the gutter. “You know, Dad,” she said. “This would be a very good meal for a dung beetle.”

Swenson pointed out that the contentment range of little children is a mile wide from end to end. He uses the term “joy beacons” to describe a child’s ability to always see the silver lining. He said, “The laughter from just one child is enough to lift a crowd of fifty. Where do they get this capacity…to make happy connections between a shoe full and the disgusting culinary habits of ugly beetles?”

Psychologists tell us that four-year-olds laugh 26 times a day more than adults. That fact alone makes it clear why Jesus would occasionally spent time with children in his lap and arms. I think the human side of him needed, at times, to be reminded that God gave our hearts an amazing capacity for delight and contentment, even in the most difficult of times. Children, God’s ambassadors to the cynic, find equal contentment, according to Swenson, “in a puddle or a pigeon, a worm or a waffle.”

It’s this idea of contentment that has been on my heart lately. When did we lose that sense of delight and contentment? More importantly, why do we lose it?

Richard Carlson, author of Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, suggested that our discontent comes from external circumstances. “We tend to believe that if we were somewhere else—on vacation, with another partner, in a different career, a different home, a different circumstance, or if we could somehow go back to the good ol’ days—somehow we would be happier and more content.” Simply put, Carlson said, “We wouldn’t.”

Psychologists will gladly tell us how to find contentment. Some of their thoughts are helpful. Some are not. I think to find the truth about contentment requires a trip to a first century house prison in the middle of Rome.

As first century prisons go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Paul had certainly experienced worse. Acts 28 tells us the apostle found himself under house arrest, chained at times to a bored Roman guard. Because the judicial system of the time did not provide three square meals a day, the prisoner was forced to provide his own housing and support. Limited in his ability to ply his trade as a tentmaker, he had little to sustain his daily life. Most of what he had on which to survive came from money and supplies shared by his friends and followers.

The worst part of his confinement for Paul must have been the restrictions on his ability to share his faith. To do the work God had called him to do. He could have visitors and speak freely about his savior within the walls. He could not spend time in the synagogue or the local market talking about his favorite subject…Jesus. Though his reach was limited, God’s was not. Paul continued to open the hearts of those who heard his message.

Given all he had experienced that brought him to this place and all he experienced while locked behind four walls, one might think Paul struggled to find contentment. Apparently not.

While imprisoned, Paul wrote several letters to the churches he helped establish. One of those churches was in Philippi, a Roman city in Macedonia. It was a letter thanking them for their contribution of provisions and money to support him in his time under house arrest.

He wrote a couple of things in this letter that I have read all my life, but only connected when I read them again this week. (That’s the funny thing about scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal truth you need to hear when you need to hear it.)

Read his words as one under house arrest.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again. Rejoice!. Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-8)

That sounds more like a man sitting on the porch of his mountain cabin, sipping a nice diet coke, with his feet up on the rail, watching the squirrels jump around in the trees. It doesn’t sound like a man chained to a surly and sweating Roman guard.

Rejoice. Don’t be anxious about anything. In every situation and in all you need, pray with thankfulness. Find peace beyond the understanding of men…the kind of peace that sets at ease your troubled heart and worried mind.

You see, despite all he had been through that brought him to Rome…the unjust accusations of Jewish leadership back in Judea and the cowardice of the Roman authorities who knew his innocence…Paul still found himself waiting for a trial that could either set him free or hand him over to be killed. Yet, he says, rejoice. Don’t worry. Be at peace. Be content.

Easy to say, difficult to do, right? It seems counterintuitive when faced with an impending divorce. Life-altering injury or illness. Decisions over aging parents. Rebellious children. Financial loss. Angry neighbors. Death of a spouse. Social unrest.

How does one keep from shrinking into dark depression when encountering any single one of these conditions, much less when several seem to hit at once.

Paul gives us a clue, I think.

“Finally, dear brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

Perhaps the first step in finding contentment amid the garbage of life is to scrap it into the gutter and find the silver lining by concentrating on the noble, the right, the pure and admirable. To get our hearts and minds pointed at the things of God rather than the things that seem to be slapping us around. To find his presence and his peace in the blessings he lavishly provides to those who love him.

Paul found the blessing in the gifts sent by the Philippians. He felt it as he welcomed Epaphroditus as the bearer of the gifts and unwrapped the supplies that they sent to help sustain him. Like a care package of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies sent to a hungry soldier mired in an inhospitable foxhole. It was just what he needed to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone.

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is like to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (Philippians 4:10-12)

Paul truly understood the ups and downs of life. His life as a Pharisee elevated his social standing and financial condition. He lived a life of relative luxury provided by his position as an up-and-coming religious leader. It all changed on the road to Damascus when he encountered the living Christ in a blinding blaze of light.

For the sake of Christ, Paul walked away from a life most others would envy to give himself to the work God called him to do. It was never easy. Paul once wrote the Christians in Corinth about all he had endured since committing his life to Christ.

If you read 2 Corinthians 11:22-29, you’ll find that Paul spent multiple times in prison and not always the house arrest kind. Five times he was given 39 lashes with a whip. He was beaten with sticks, pelted with stones, shipwrecked three times, and constantly on the move. He crossed raging rivers, faced bandits along the roads and the murderous threats from Jew and Gentile alike.

Paul faced danger in the city and in the country. On sea and on land. He had gone without sleep and known days of hunger and thirst. He was cold and naked. And amid the physical distress, he felt the daily pressure of his concern for the people in the churches he had founded…an overwhelming burden.

When you understand all Paul endured, it makes his words to the Philippians even more forceful. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstance.”

Paul didn’t find contentment by trying to fix his circumstances, he found it by fixing his eyes on Jesus. By concentrating on living the life God had called him to do. By focusing on the noble, the right, the pure, the lovely and the admirable. In other words, by living a Christ-like life in all he did and all he said.

That’s difficult to do under the pressures and burdens we bear. Paul had a “secret” though. A secret he shared openly with the Philippians and with those of us for whom life has bound us to house arrest, limiting our ability to do the things we want to do.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

I’ve read this verse a thousand times, I bet. As I learned in the school business, though, first learning is hard to overcome. When I first learned this passage, it was in the language of King James.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The message I heard from well-intentioned youth ministers and pastors was that God would empower me through his strength to do everything and anything I wanted to do. That’s the lesson that stuck for that verse. While there is a measure of truth in that thought, it has not been my experience. If that were so, I would have walked on the moon with Neil Armstrong like that childhood dream promised.

No. I don’t think that’s what Paul intended. When Paul says he can concentrate on the noble, the right and the pure; he can find contentment when he has plenty and when he has nothing; he can overcome every adverse circumstance of life. “I can do all of this,” Paul says, “through him who gives me strength.”

There is a difference in “I can do all things…” and “I can do all this…,”  especially within the context of Paul’s life and most decidedly in the context of ours. The first seems more of a promise that our wildest dreams will be ours. The latter suggests that my ability to live well through the good and bad times of life depends on my ability to tap in and trust in the strength Christ provides.

We are incapable of dealing with everything that sticks to the bottom or our shoes within our restricted power and limited strength. However, we can fix our eyes on Jesus. Think like Jesus thought. Live like Jesus lived, facing every circumstance with the same grace with which Jesus faced the sin of the world.

Through the strength Christ provides through his word and his spirit, we will find that silver lining. We’ll find we can be content in all of this tough stuff with which we are dealing.

I truly don’t know how you define contentment. I only hope you find it in Christ. All other definitions are severely lacking.

Maybe the best starting point is to be thankful for the eternal presence of Jesus in your life. Dr. Toyin Omofoye is an author and clinical pharmacist. She said, “Contentment is realized when gratitude becomes a lifestyle.”

So, when you’re facing what you can’t fix on your own, be grateful that you can do all this…all that is required to make it through…because of the strength of Christ in you.

Amen?

Amen!

Don’t Look Back

Background Passages: Luke 9:57-62 and Philippians 3:12-14

The big day had finally come. To a young boy growing up in the 1960s on a cotton farm, each day brought a series of chores to be done. Most were routine and boring. Those I deemed “exciting,” like jumping on the tractor and plowing the field, were the privileges of age and responsibility.

When deemed old enough and responsible enough, my Dad entrusted me with an old, yellow Case 400 tractor and a plow called the “lister.” We used the lister to prepare the fields for planting. By tilling the soil in this way, we cleared the field of weeds and old stalks and built the furrows and ridges, or “beds,” necessary for planting.

Hoeing the field, slopping the hogs, moving the irrigation pipe were mind-numbing work. Driving the tractor stood as a rite of passage…at least it was to this 12-year-old boy. Listing was one of the first “real jobs” my Dad assigned me as I was growing up. “Real” being defined as anything involving a tractor and plow. I remember burying my excitement in a cover of feigned indifference, but inside, I was pumped.

As I drove the tractor to my assigned field, Dad followed in his dusty Dodge pick-up. When we arrived, he jumped from the truck and showed me where he wanted me to begin. He explained the hydraulics and showed me how to drop the disk to mark the next row. Dad set the disk and drove the first few rows, straight as an arrow, with me riding along watching…a “do as I do” moment.

Listing was one of the first steps in the annual farming process. The planter followed the rows created by the lister. The cultivator followed the planter as the cotton grew to remove weeds and mix and incorporate the soil to ensure the growing crop had enough water and nutrients to grow well. So, if the rows created by the lister were not straight, it made the field difficult to work.

I should note that the rows my Dad plowed as my template looked as if they were drawn by a ruler. Straight as an arrow stretching a quarter mile across our West Texas farm. He had a knack for it.

The task appeared simple to me. Align the front wheel of the tractor with the line drawn by the disk and my rows would be as straight as Dad’s. As he climbed off the tractor and bounded toward his truck before leaving me alone to my work, he told me to concentrate on the line ahead of me and “don’t look back.”

Looking behind you as you plowed was the surest way of getting off the desired line. I scoffed inwardly at Dad’s advice. How hard could it be to drive in a straight line?

It turns out that laying that perfect row requires concentration a 12-year-old boy finds difficult to maintain. I remember spending a great deal of time looking behind me, checking on my progress. Every wiggle I saw heightened my anxiety about the quality of work, compelling me to look time and time again where I had travelled.

The more I worried with it, the worse it looked. My quarter mile rows meandered through that red soil like a copperhead snake. Dad laughed when he saw it. I eventually learned the lesson he taught though I was never quite as good as he was.

 God reminded me of that moment in my childhood as I read a passage in the Gospel of Luke. It seems Dad’s lesson about farming was as old as the Bible and applies just as neatly to life.

The crowd that followed Jesus generally included his closest disciples and others whose hearts were captured by Jesus’ message and ministry. They professed a faith in him and a desire to follow wherever he led them. As the 12 disciples discovered, the requirements of discipleship must be wholeheartedly embraced if we are to live to the fullest the life he wills for us.

One day as Jesus journeyed down the road followed by an interested crowd. A man came to Jesus pledging to follow him. Jesus needed him to think seriously about the commitment he was making. Jesus had “no home, no place to lay his head.”

Following him meant a life of sacrifice and uncertainty. Jesus wanted more from the man than an ill-considered impulse decision that circumstance made hard to sustain. Count the cost, Jesus suggested, before you make a snap decision.

Jesus called out to a second man in whom he saw great promise. “Follow me.” Though willing, the man felt torn by the needs of his family and the responsibilities of discipleship. Jesus told him to get his priorities straight. God’s call required complete devotion to God.

The third man provoked a harsher response from Jesus. The man promised to follow Jesus but asked for time to say goodbye to those he loved, his heart divided between his desire to do as God asked and his love for his family and friends. He said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

The Greek words translated for “looks back” paint a picture of one constantly and continuously looking back at what he left behind. A picture of someone reluctant to let go of the things of the world rather than to fully commit life to God. The more we look back, the more likely we are to walk a wavering line of faith life that constantly strays from the path God intends for us.

The lesson for those of us who follow Christ emerges clearly in the conversation Jesus had with the three would-be followers. We must give ourselves completely to the call of Christ by counting and embracing the cost of discipleship and making God’s work the most important thing in our life.

Following Christ has never been easy, but doing so in a fractured world that demeans and diminishes faith grows even more difficult. It is made harder when important things of life pull and tug at us from every direction. We must follow Christ despite the hardships, heavy hearts and home ties that block us from giving ourselves completely to him.

God calls us to put our hands on the plow and get on with the work of faith, creating a straight row that makes it easier for him to accomplish his future work. Human nature and the subtle work of a tempter compel us to look back upon the mistakes we’ve made, those sins in our lives that seek to convince us that God cannot possibly use such a flawed vessel.

Certainly, it may be good to glance behind us on occasion, to revisit our mistakes, as a reminder of how easy it is to fail God. Yet, to dwell in the misery of our past failures inhibits our ability to be useful in service and ministry, makes us feel unworthy of the purpose to which we have been called.

Just as troubling are those times when we think wistfully of the “good ol’ days” when life and faith were easier. Today is the time we have been given. Looking back and wishing the world were different prohibits us from seeing in front of us the God-directed opportunities that allow us to demonstrate his love for a world that can no longer plow a straight row.

Don’t look back, Christ says. Give yourself wholly to your call and count the cost. Christ cannot accept our conditional or half-hearted service. Nor can we spend more time looking back at our past, reveling in a simpler time or lamenting our failures. He asks us instead to look forward; to press on. To open ourselves to the possibilities of service and ministry.

Paul captured the same message in his letter to the Philippian church as he declared that he could not fully grasp all that God called him to be. “Brothers, I do not consider myself to have embraced it yet. But this one thing I do: Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on…”

Experience is a great teacher. I eventually learned to rely upon that handy, pivoting disk on the plow that I raised and lowered as I traversed the field. If I kept my eyes fixed on the line as it ran into the distance, put my tractor wheel in its furrow and followed it to the end, my rows rarely wavered.

For those committed to Christ, Jesus drew the line in the sand with his life as the perfect example to follow. Most of us recognize that our line drifts away from the line Jesus walked. Our mistakes compound when we spend too much time looking behind us.

Let’s keep our eyes focused constantly on him and the path of righteousness he walked as an example to all of us.

I promise it will make life that much easier to plow.

Author’s note: This is a reprint of a study published January 28, 2017.

I Must Become Less

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He must be greater; I must become less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amen?

Amen.

Raise the Bar

Background Passages: 2 Peter 1:5-9; Galatians 5:16 and Philippians 3:10-14
The streak of laziness that runs through my bones was never more evident than my high school track career. I tried out for every field event in an effort to escape any serious running events. While I had a small measure of success in the shot put, my efforts at the broad jump, high jump and pole vault might be classified as dismal.
I found the sand pit too far from the foul line and the pole vault abjectly frightening. I really wanted to do the high jump, but my technique and general lack of skill ended that dream.
A few years after my high school efforts, my cousin Paul advanced to the Texas state championship in the high jump and eventually took his skill to college where he set a personal best of 6’10”. He fell just short of the world record…had he been jumping in 1937. (I hope God will forgive me for that family dig even if Paul doesn’t.)
I don’t know for sure how high the bar was when the competition started back when Paul was back in college. I’d be stunned if they started the event at 6’10”. Paul most certainly worked up to his personal best in incremental steps. Each jump built upon the success of the preceding jump. Chances are my cousin never would have cleared his personal best without raising the bar along the way.
I found myself wondering this week if that’s what Peter had in mind as he began his second letter to the early Christian churches. To grow in our spiritual maturity, Peter said we need to be willing to raise the bar along the way.
Peter tells those early Christians and those who follow them, that God has given us everything we need to live a godly life. We just have to keep raising the bar of excellence and spiritual maturity. Read his words.
For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love. 
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.” (2 Peter 1:5-9)
Because God has given us everything we need to live a godly life, we must keep pushing ourselves toward a deeper faith…a deeper and wiser spiritual maturity. We’ll never make that move if we keep the bar low.
Peter says we make an initial leap of faith in our trust of Jesus Christ as savior. We learn in Hebrews 11:6 that “without faith it is impossible to please God. “
Far too many seem to think that’s all that is required…and it is to a point…a true expression of faith in Jesus as savior puts you on the list of God’s redeemed.
That’s a little like clearing the bar at its opening height. Elite high jumpers have little difficulty clearing that first jump. Had any of them been content with that first jump, they might not have tried higher heights.
Placing our faith and trust in Jesus as savior is a great first jump. Staying at that height does not grow our faith. It does not allow us to stretch our understanding of who God is and what he asks of us.
Read through that list of character traits Peter shares. Nothing within them suggests a random order. Each trait builds upon the preceding trait. He says make sure you add to your faith a life of goodness. Making right choices. Virtuous. Pure. Live a life that reflects Christ in you. Letting God’s way be your standard. That seems a natural evolution of our faith commitment. Declare your faith then live a life of virtue and purity.
As you begin to live a life that reflects Christ, you gain knowledge into his teachings, discerning what is right and what he requires of those who follow him. You gain an understanding of the nature of God and thus the nature he desires for us.
Paul’s words to the Philippians would reinforce this thought.
“Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things. (Philippians 4:8)
As time passes and we invest ourselves in God’s word, we gain an understanding and knowledge of how he lived and the words he spoke. Such understanding enables us to deepen our faith and expand and enhance the good we are doing.
Then, we raise the bar higher. Finding the self-control or discipline to resist our former way of life and the temptations that will surely come. It is getting a grip on our passions in order to stay focused and committed to what we’ve been taught in God’s word. This, then, leads to a stronger faith, a goodness that seldom wavers because we continue to grow in our knowledge of his will and way.
Perseverance speaks to the ability to stay the course when days get more difficult. To persist in our pursuit of godly character even when it is hard to do so. It is the patience to keep exercising our faith, goodness, knowledge gained and discipline to remain strong during hard times. The ability to fight off the temptation to abandon what we believe and know when circumstances don’t go our way.
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross… (Hebrews 12:2-3)
Raise the bar yet again because as we stay strong in the face of hardship, we are demonstrating a deep respect for God and his love for us. The call to live a life of godliness suggests a faith that is practiced and practical. It is simply the faith we put into practice. We determine to be more and more like him in pursuit of the godliness…being Christ-like…in the way we live and relate to those around us, especially those who are outcasts.
James put it this way in his brief letter.
Religion that God our father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (James 1:27)
It is this raised bar of Christian living that demands we love those who persecute us. Insists that we love the sinner but reject the sin. Encourages us to wrap our arms around those society pushes aside.
Jesus raised the bar for his disciples when he told them that the evidence of their godliness is in the gentleness, kindness and grace extended toward our fellow believers. In their love for one another.
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  (John 13:35)
It is a picture of grace and forgiveness within the body of Christ that builds up the church rather than tearing it down. Our brotherly kindness and love is the light of Christ reflected through the church that invites the unbeliever to consider a life with Christ. It is this light that opens the door of salvation to a lost world.
It is the love that allowed Peter and Paul to embrace the faith of the Gentile believers. It is the love that forgives the hurt caused by our fellow believer so that church continues to model God’s love for the world. It is the love that makes a church a church.
“And, now, these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (I Corinthians 13:13)
Peter raises the bar one last time in this passage. Read the words again.
…add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love.
Peter goes beyond brotherly love when he suggests that we will reach new heights when we learn to love each other as God loved. This is agape love. It is a love abounding from our hearts by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. It is the spark that compels us to go out of our way to share our faith, to love those who others deem unlovable. To reach into the community to meet needs expecting nothing in return.
May the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another and for all men, just as we also do for you. (I Thessalonians 3:12)
The list Peter shares may seem daunting. Who could live a life like this other than Jesus Christ? Each characteristic he asks us to pursue reflect the character of God himself. Take a look at verse 4 immediately preceding our primary passage in 2 Peter 1. Peter declares that God gave us his gift of salvation and his promises so that we might “participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world…”
These traits of our heavenly father are the traits he wants to see evident in the lives of those who believe in him. The list Peter shares is not a “how to,” but rather a statement about what is possible. That a focused and committed life can keep raising the bar of excellence as we become more Christ-like. It is a process and is something to which we can strive. Peter is giving us a picture of what we can become if we make spiritual maturity a priority.
I’ve lived almost seven decades on this earth. I wish I could declare that I’ve cleared the bar set by God. I’m certain I have not. It is a growth process, even until the day we die.
Christian growth and maturity is neither automatic nor a matter of time. Growth occurs as we consistently and obediently seek to grow…as we hurdle each bar…with the power and help of God’s spirit and the faithful study of God’s word.
Peter offered us both an encouraging word and a warning in 2 Peter 1:8-9.
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.”
We said earlier the reason we seek after these traits is to understand the character of God and participate in that divine nature. Then, we must consistently demonstrate these traits in our lives in increasing measure each day we live. To be effective and productive in our knowledge of Jesus.
To simply let that initial faith commitment slide suggests we’ve forgotten what Jesus did for us on the cross.
I’ll make one last connection. Peter’s choice of character traits in his second letter to believers is similar to the fruit of the Spirit Paul discusses in some of his letters. Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5 as the qualities God produces in us through the work of the Spirit.
The key to manifesting the fruit of the Spirit, according to Galatians 5:16, is to walk in the Spirit. A spiritual lifestyle choice. This passage in Peter tells us how to walk in the Spirit, constantly jumping the higher bar of spiritual maturity.
I want to know Christ and the power of the resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings…Not that I have attained all of this or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me…but one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining forward to what is ahead. I press on… (Philippians 3:10, 12-14)
I hope you will join me in making that thought a commitment in the days to come. Maybe we can clear the next bar together.

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)

Pushing the Right Buttons

Hebrews 10:22-25; I Corinthians 12: 12-26

My son Andrew has always been pretty good at pushing buttons. He had a way, particularly as a toddler, of getting under his older brother’s skin.

After one particularly troublesome morning where two-year-old Andrew repeatedly pestered four-year-old Adam, we heard a muffled scream from the playroom. Andrew came around the corner crying. He declared with righteous indignation through incredulous tears, “Adam hit me back.” It was the “hit me back” part of that statement that had Robin and I fighting back the laughter. Adam had finally had enough, and our toddler had implicated himself in his own words.

The episode didn’t cure him of being that annoying little brother at times. In the honesty of days gone by, they both were pretty good about stirring each other up, one action invariably leading to retaliation until they both were in trouble.

I guess all little brothers or little sisters have that tendency. I was a middle child. I’d like to think I was different, but I suspect my older brother would disagree.

The truth is the selfishness that is natural for a young child, tends to stay with us as adults. We’re all pretty good about pushing buttons when we’re feeling neglected, hurt or out of sorts.

The writer of Hebrews seemed to recognize that most of us are button pushers. He offered some affirming words on the subject.

The writer of Hebrews is unknown. For lack of any other name and in an effort to keep my word count low, rather than always referring to the writer of Hebrews, I’ll call him Syntakti. It means author in Greek.

Whomever Syntakti is, he is one who speaks with the authority of one who knows and understands the teachings of Jesus. The theology of his message throughout Hebrews lines up well with everything that Jesus and his disciples taught. His practical application rivals that of Paul.

One of the main theological themes of Hebrews is that Jesus is greater…the greater priest than Israel’s high priest and the greater sacrifice than any gift man might present as an atonement offering.

Shortly after making his case that Jesus is the greater priest and sacrifice, Syntaki states there is no longer a need for sacrifices offered under the law because of the price Jesus paid in blood upon the cross. Since the final sacrifice has been made and the Jesus now stands as the “great priest over the house of God” (Hebrews 10:21), the author, Syntaki, offers instruction on how to practically persevere in the faith. One of the keys, he says, is to “push somebody’s buttons” (my words, not his)

Let’s read what he says.

“Let us draw near to God with a pure heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us with a guilty conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we possess, for he who promised is faithful.

“And, let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:22-25)

Did you see it in verse 25? “Spur one another on…” Another translation says we should “Stimulate one another to love…” The author tells us to figure out how we can poke, prod and push one another toward love and good deeds. To push each other’s buttons so we learn to love each other and do the good work to which we have been called.

Our present context for “pushing buttons” is a negative one, falling more in line with the annoying little brother. We push until it triggers the explosive reaction we hoped to provoke. Syntakti encourages us to push the right buttons that spur one another or stimulate one another to do the things our great priest desires us to do.

If you’re anything like me, you don’t like to be pushed or prodded to do anything…even if it’s good for me or beneficial in some way. When someone pushes my buttons…even the good buttons…I tend to push back and do nothing or worse, do the exact opposite. The author shows us how to push in the right way.

Syntakti says before we push anyone’s buttons we must “draw near to God” with a pure heart and the full assurance that faith brings. It’s an idea that speaks to our confidence and trust in the greatness and “graceness” of our Father in heaven. Because we have in Jesus direct access to the Father, because we are beneficiaries of his amazing grace, we can go directly to him with our joys, concerns, sorrows and fears in absolute confidence and trust. We have that privilege because what we find in his word and what we see in his character is true. He is the same “yesterday, today and tomorrow.” Our life experiences prove it time and time again.

Drawing near to God speaks to our personal interaction with him. While we certainly draw near to him in corporate worship, we must also find intimacy with God through our private time with him. Bible study. Prayer. Listening. Walking with him every day. Paying attention to the Spirit’s leading. Such commitment cannot be a one-time thing.

The author also tells us to “hold unswervingly to the hope we possess” in Christ. Never let go of the hope we have in Christ. Why? Because he has proven himself faithful time and time again. Keep trusting in his faithfulness. Keeping a tight grip on the promises he has kept to us. His word reminds us of his constant, undivided love.

Holding without fail to our hope presents the idea of extreme focus on the things of God to the exclusion of the ways of the world. Unwavering trust when things are going well, knowing he will never ignore us. Unwavering trust in the most difficult times of life, knowing that he will never abandon us.

So, before we can push each other to do what God wants us to do, we have to have our hearts and mind in the right place. Only then can we “consider how to spur one another toward love and good deeds.” Without that foundation of faith governing our words and actions, we will almost invariably push the wrong buttons. At the very least, it will come across as a holier-than-thou attitude.

The word “consider” used in this passage means to “think carefully about…” “To figure things out…” “To be intentional” in thinking about new ways to encourage each other to live as we should. We are to light a fire under each other and push the buttons that will trigger the love within us and move toward doing good.

Syntakti knew his audience well. In the hindsight provided by the Spirit, I think he knew us pretty well, too.

Life was not easy for those first century readers. In many ways, it is no easier for us to live for Christ in our world today. The hardships they faced tempted them to drift away from the fellowship of believers. As the world discounts so much of what we hold dear, are we not also tempted to drift away?

Since the pandemic, the exodus from the church has had staggering implications on church attendance and ministry. Like those first century Christians, it seems we find it safer and easier to worship in isolation or not at all.

The author of Hebrews knows the danger of separating ourselves from the body of believers. He wants us to spur each other to love one another and to do the good work and ministry of the church. We can’t push the right buttons if we’re isolated at home. We can only encourage one another if we meet regularly together. If we join in corporate worship. If stand by each other in ministry.

Look again at verse 25.

“And, let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another.”

Here’s what I’ve found to be true in my personal experience. My best days of worship happen when someone pushes my buttons. The congregational and choral music inspires. The preaching challenges. The teaching makes me think. Someone uses the gifts God gave them to encourage me to keep living for Christ. To spur me on to love others more deeply. To push me to keep serving him. To prod me to keep meeting the needs of others.

I need that encouragement in my life as I suspect you do. I need them to push my buttons. It’s true that one can practice faith in isolation, but others miss out on your testimony and witness. If you are not “meeting together,” you’re depriving others of the gifts you bring to the table. You’re depriving them of the blessings you have to offer. If I’m not present, I’m depriving you of the blessings I have to offer.

In I Corinthian’s 12, Paul plants his tongue in his cheek and tells us how much we need each other.

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a foot, I don’t belong to the body,” it would not be a reason to not belong to the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?…Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is part of it. ” (I Corinthians 12:15-17, 27)

The point of that humorous illustration is that God gifts us in unique ways to be a part of the body of believers. The kingdom of God only flourishes when every part of that body is present and working together.

If you’re an ear, I need you to be a great ear. If you’re a foot, put your best foot forward. By being who God called you to be, I am encouraged to use my God-given gifts in service to God and others. I am encouraged to love and do good deeds. And, maybe, just maybe, as I do those things, I am an encouragement to you.

My boys pushed a lot of buttons in their childhood and, especially during their teenage years. Even in those times, we knew they cared for each other. They did enjoy pushing those buttons, though.

However, in the years since, they’ve pushed the right buttons for each other. The deep love and friendship they have for one another stands in remarkable juxtaposition to the arguments of youth. They have been there for each other in some incredibly difficult times over and over again, encouraging one another, much to the delight of their parents.

I am grateful for all the people God placed in my life to push all the right buttons in me. You have spurred me to love more deeply and serve more intentionally.

Let me encourage you to draw nearer to God. To hold unswervingly to the hope in Christ that you possess. Then, let’s consider together ways that we can together push each other’s buttons so we can love with the love of Christ and do the good work he has called us to do.

Seems to be a good prayer for today.

Amen!

When Doubt Creeps In

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take heart. I have overcome the world.”

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

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

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

I think John would say amen to that.

Finding Peace

Background Passages: Philippians 4:6-9; John 14:26-27

Sarah Winchester began the construction of her new home in San Jose in 1884, shortly after the death of her husband William, the firearms magnate. For 38 years until her death in 1922, the 22,000 square foot home was under constant construction or renovation.

There are more than 10,000 windows and 160 rooms in the Winchester Mansion. The result of this haphazard design is a maze-like structure with doorways and stairways that lead nowhere.

Teams of carpenters, masons and other trades were employed around the clock to address Sarah’s eccentric ideas. The design mattered less than the need to keep building. Sarah, it seems, struggled with her husband’s life work. She believed that she and her home would be haunted by the ghosts of those killed by her husband’s rifles unless he kept building her house.

It’s estimated that Sarah spent $70 million largely on pointless construction, all in a desperate search for peace that never came.

The world seeks peace today in pursuits just as fruitless as the one attempted by Sarah. Pursuing such paths will never bring peace.

We know there exists a difference in peace as viewed by the world and peace that comes from God. The world speaks of absence of conflict, calm, harmony, and happiness. Humanity’s quest for peace seems always just out of reach. Those who understand the term at a spiritual level acknowledge that God is the only true source of peace.

In the Old Testament, peace seems to be the greatest good that men could wish for each other. Ancient greetings reflect this. Even Judah’s enemy Nebuchadnezzar wrote, “Unto all people, nations and languages, that dwell in all the earth, peace be multiplied to you.” (Daniel 4:1)

Jewish greetings always wished peace. The Hebrew word translated as peace is a familiar term. It is shalom. It means completeness, soundness and welfare. Its root means to make whole or complete. Having shalom meant being in a state of wholeness or completeness, lacking nothing of importance.

The New Testament form of the word for peace is eirene (i-ray’-nay). It means unity, being one, quietness and rest. Its root means to tie together as a whole. It speaks to reconciliation, to come back together. To be complete.

So, God’s peace will always be different from peace sought by the world. Biblical peace speaks to a restored relationship with God through Christ Jesus. It is a state of wholeness and completeness experienced by those who are living in right relationship with God.

So, at the eternal level, peace with God requires a relationship with him. The path to peace begins with our declaration that Jesus is Lord of our lives…that we have put our faith and trust in him and him alone.

I don’t know about you, but it’s rarely that simple. I put my faith and trust in Christ as a nine-year-old boy who had not known the deepest struggles of life and faith that come from life experiences.

So, on a practical level, how do we find the peace of God amid the turmoil that comes as we live each day? I find some answers, I think, in Paul’s letter to the Philippian church.

“Don’t worry about anything; instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need and thank him for all he has done. Then, you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)

Don’t worry. Pray. Pray about everything. Now, I’ve never really subscribed to the idea that God cares which toothpaste I use. I supposed that there might be a specific point and time where my toothpaste choice might matter to the point where I make that a matter of prayer, but generally, I’m not sure God cares.

I think Paul says the path to peace begins in conversation with the father about the things we need…really need…in life. And, he adds, that a great starting point in that process begins by thanking him for all he has done for us in the past. The brightest light in the darkness of life is not the light at the end of the tunnel, but the light shining from behind us…where hindsight is 20/20…the light that shines on the path I’ve already traveled. The one that illuminates the footsteps of the Father walking beside us through those difficult times.

Paul chooses his words carefully, writing in ways that make connections with his first century readers. Philippi was situated near the coast of Greece. As such, it was a sentry city, of sorts, for the inland areas of the region. Since many of the residents of Philippi were retired Roman soldiers, they understood the danger of attack.

As a result, a sentry worked throughout the night in Philippi…24/7. While the people slept, the sentry, the phulasso, kept watch for enemy soldiers, thieves and wild animals. While the phulasso was on guard, the people could sleep in peaceful slumber.

Paul used this imagery to talk about a peace beyond our understanding. Paul says talking to God about what troubles us is a sure way of finding a peace we cannot easily comprehend. A peace that protects or guards (like a phulasso will guard) our hearts and minds from dredging up the past we cannot change and the worst future we can imagine. A peace that keeps us from believing that our mansion is haunted by our past and that we must keep building a stairway to nowhere. A peace that comes only as we live in Christ Jesus.

So, how do we live in Christ Jesus?

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. Keep putting into practice all you learned and received from me—everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then, the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

Martin Luther once said, “While you cannot prevent birds from flying over your head, you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.”

Our minds are constantly churning. Left to our own imaginations, it’s easy to get fixated on something that causes us anxiety and worry. It is easy to let our thoughts center on guilt, anger, pain, uncertainty, loss, worry, hurt, danger and a host of other negative things. Paul knew how easy it was to fall into this trap…how easy it is to let the birds build a nest in our hair.

Rather than allow the negativity to set in, Paul said to “fix your thoughts…” focus intently on…to meditate…to dwell…on the thoughts of Christ. He lists a collection of filters through which all our thoughts must run.

Dwell on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. Meditate on the excellent things of life and things that are worthy of praise. We must run our thoughts through these traits. If any thought that enters our mind does not pass the test, we should reject it. We are to make our thoughts obedient to Christ.

Paul lived his life in obedience to Christ. The things he said and did, the way he chose to live, the things he taught…all of these things were built upon the model of Christ, revealing what Christ taught him that he passed on to the Philippians. He encouraged them to focus on the things of Christ and put into practice his teachings…to live a Christlike life.

Here’s where I think the rubber meets the road.

Jesus’ death and resurrection reconciled those who trust in him to God. Being in right relationship with him puts us on the path to wholeness and completeness. The difficulties of life pull us every day in the opposite direction. The worry and anxiety that creeps in at these times can be set aside by talking with the one who loved us enough to die for our sins.

When we can talk to him and recall all that he has done to carry us through difficult times in our lives, we can experience his peace…that sense of connection and completeness that only comes when we are in close contact with our father. It is this peace that protect us from the onslaught of thoughts that spiral into the depths of despair and desperation. It is peace and wholeness that comes only through a life of focused discipleship.

I don’t know if Mark Twain was a Christian. Based on his writings, he was put off by the lack of practice in what was preached.

A wealthy businessman from Boston with a reputation for ruthlessness and unethical behavior once told Twain that his dream was to visit the Holy Land before he died. His desire was to climb Mount Sinai with his Bible and read the 10 Commandments.

“I have a better idea,” Twain responded with his typical wit. “Why don’t you stay in Boston and keep them.”

Twain has a point. We tend to think we’ll find peace in some great mountaintop experience rather than daily obedience.

So, we are to focus on what we have been taught in scripture about living as Christ lived. Following his example. Passing all our thoughts through the life of Christ. Discarding what is undesirable and obeying his teachings. It is in that obedience that we find wholeness. Completeness. Peace.

Such behavior and thinking comes with a promise not only of the peace that protects and guards our thoughts, but with the presence of the comforting Father.

Look at the past phrase of Paul’s message in verse 9.

“Then, the God of peace will be with you.”

I think I always read that as “God’s peace be with you,” but that’s not what he says here. Paul already told us that we can have the peace that protects and guards when we talk to God. Now, he’s telling us that the God who is peace, the author of peace and reconciliation, will be with you. His presence in our lives brings peace.

In their most troubled time in the upper room listening as Jesus explained his imminent death on the cross, the disciples heard Jesus make this promise.

“All I have spoken while still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. 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; do not be afraid.” (John 14:26-27)

It is impossible for us to understand fully in this present world with all its struggles the complete peace that comes only from God. The comforting thing to me is that God sent the Holy Spirit to those who believe as a constant reminder of his teachings and the daily presence of the God of peace.

I built my fair share of stairways and doorways that lead nowhere as I struggled with the life experiences I faced. When I lay those struggles at the feet of Christ and talk to him about my needs, peace comes. That sense of connection and completeness follows. When I can turn aside those negative thoughts and focus instead on what it means to live a Christlike life, I can experience and feel the presence of the God of peace.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Do not be afraid.”

Shalom.

In Hot Pursuit

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

The passage was a familiar one.

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

“The Lord is my shepherd…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Man, did I need to be reminded of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Beware the Slippery Slope

Background Passage: Revelation 2:12-17; John 6:48-50

I knew I was in trouble the minute I saw those Girl Scouts standing by the exit to Lowe’s. I just bought some random piece of hardware needed for a home project. As the glass doors slid open, I read the lips of the older one as she whispered to her friend, “Here’s an easy mark!” She had me pegged from the moment she saw me glance at the table.

“Could we interest you in some Thin Mints, Peanut Butter or Samoa cookies,” she asked as they launched into some pre-rehearsed sales pitch about the virtues of helping her troop get to some distant camp in Iowa. I held my palm up to silence them and reached for my wallet. “You had me at Thin Mints,” I replied as I bought three boxes.

Thin mints and orange juice. It just doesn’t get any more sinful than that.

Satan inspired Thin Mints, as devil disks designed to break one’s will to lose weight and live a healthier lifestyle. I buy them knowing I’m perched at the top of a slippery slope. Once I open that first sleeve…taste that perfect blend of minty freshness and chocolate covering infusing that delectable morsel of pure crunch…I kiss all restraint goodbye. One cookie leads to the whole sleeve. One sleeve leads to one box. It is a slippery slope.

I know eating that first Thin Mint has fewer consequences than other poor life choices I’ve made. It is, however, a nice metaphor for the allure and temptation of sin. Taking that first bite out of sin’s apple is a quick ticket out of the garden of grace. Rarely do I jump in to sin with both feet. More often than not I make a subtle compromise with sin that begins my slide down that slippery slope of disobedience. I think Jesus had this in mind when he spoke through John to the early church in Pergamum.

A slippery slope is an idea or course of action which will eventually lead to additional actions until some undesirable consequence inevitably follows. One domino falls causing another to fall and then another and then another.

John, in the Book of Revelation, heard the voice of Jesus sharing a word with seven churches in what is now modern-day Turkey. Though obedient in doing good, the church in Ephesus forgot their love of Christ and their love for one another. They acted out of a sense of obligation rather than love. In Smyrna, Jesus simply encouraged the church to persevere in the face of the coming persecution. To keep the faith despite the hostility around them.

The church in Pergamum found itself flirting with disaster, standing on a slippery slope of compromise…giving in to the subtle sins that opened the door to deeper depravity. The first domino had already fallen as a few had been led astray. One by one others believers succumbed to their influence.

“These are the words of him who has the sharp, double-edged sword. I know where you live—where Satan has his throne. Yet, you remain true to my name. You did not renounce your faith in men, even in the days of Antipas, my faithful witness, who was put to death in our city—where Satan lives.

“Nevertheless, I have a few things against you: You have people there who hold to the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to entice the Israelites to sin by eating food sacrificed to idols and by committing sexual immorality. Likewise, you also have those who hold to the teaching of the Nicolaitans.

“Repent, therefore! Otherwise, I will soon come to you and will fight against them with the sword of my mouth.

“He who has an ear to hear let him hear what the spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” (Revelation 2:12-17)

Jesus introduced himself to this church as the one with a sharp, double-edged sword, presenting himself as qualified to serve as their judge and jury. The believers in Pergamum did so many things well, despite the harsh culture around them. Jesus praised them for being an oasis of faith surrounding by hostile desert. A light in a dark world.

An historic capital of Asia, Pergamum served as the intellectual center of the region, surpassed in influence only by Athens and Alexandria. The city stood as a religious center with temples, shrines and altars dedicated to Zeus and other Greek gods, including Asklepios, the god of healing. As a result of this particular god, one might consider Pergamum the Mayo Clinic of its day.

To make matters worse for the church, Pergamum embraced the idea of the imperial cult even before Rome did. Its citizens built the first temple to Caesar Augustus in AD 29, proclaiming him a living god. Pergamum became the birthplace of emperor worship. Failure to worship the emperor was a crime punishable by death. Antipas, one of the early church leaders in Pergamum, refused to bow before the emperor and was martyred for his faith.

“I know where you live,” Jesus said. He knew their circumstances. He knew they lived in the shadow of Satan’s throne. Jesus was empathetic to their situation. Temptations and pressure to sublimate their faith for the sake of self-preservation were intensely felt. Surely Antipas was not the sole believer killed by the emperor’s sense of self-importance. One must assume that other Christians lost their lives.

Their faithfulness unto death caught Jesus’ attention. You face death every day, he said, “Yet you remain true to my name.” Despite the ever-present danger to their lives, they would not forsake the name of Jesus.

What a spectacular testimony. Nothing could persuade them to renounce Jesus. Jesus lifted up the church in Pergamum for being faithful in that which mattered most. Sadly, the story doesn’t end there.

Despite their insistence on not bowing down to the emperor, some of them stood on that slippery slope. Some people in the church had, in fact, already taken the plunge. If you’ve just received a word of praise from heaven, the last word you want to hear next is “Nevertheless.” The tone of the passage changes dramatically from one of commendation to condemnation.

“Nevertheless, I have a few things against you.”

Though they were faithful in the big thing, they let the little things seduce them. Some of the folks could not stop at one Thin Mint. They ate one, then ate another and another.

Sin wraps itself in attractive packaging. Covers its hideousness. Disguises its affects. Surrounded by the allure of sin, some of the Christians at Pergamum yielded to temptation. Jesus’ reference to Balaam is an Old Testament Jewish moral tale warning against listening to the siren songs of those who would forget to whom they belonged. Scripture tells us Balaam found a way to seduce Israel away from God, not in some explosive act of disobedience, but by inching step by step toward disobedience until sin’s dominos started to fall one right after another.

In ancient Israel’s case they violated God’s laws by eating meat offered to idols and embraced the sexual immorality prevalent in their culture. I don’t know if these were the specific sins of the Pergamum Christians, but they began to be disobedient in the little things. They confessed a faith in Christ, but didn’t live like it on a daily basis.

In addition, some among the congregation In Pergamum fell victim to false teaching. The Nicolaitans taught a twisted distortion of the gospel. Subtle deviations from gospel that made disobedience permissible. What they practiced was what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace.” Grace that only emphasizes the good or easy parts of the gospel without the truth regarding the more difficult aspects of true discipleship.

Jesus reminded them there is only one solution to sin. He called these wayward Christians to repent. To turn away from the little things they’ve been doing wrong and get their life right with God. Get off that slippery slope and live again the life in Christ to which they had been called.

There are certainly times in my life where I feel like a citizen of Pergamum. To my recollection, I’ve never denied my relationship to Jesus. Never renounced my faith in him. Though challenged from time to time, I can say with Antipas, “He is my Lord.” I am faithful in the BIG thing.

Man, can I identify with those men and women in Pergamum who found themselves on the slippery slope to sin. It’s just so easy to take the first wrong step and find yourself on a path you never intended to take. What we focus on or fret over become or idols, substituting for our dependence on God. It feels easier to walk the well-travelled road of convenience than the narrow path of righteousness. Faith, we feel, just shouldn’t be this hard. So, we compromise. We give in.

Even a cursory look at the actions and beliefs of many Christians yields evidence that they swallowed the lies of the world hook, line and sinker. Sadly, every foray into the shadow is another step down a slippery slope that leads to additional actions until some undesirable consequence inevitably follows. I know. I’ve been there.

Jesus closed his letter to the church in Pergamum with a series of promises to those who overcome the slippery slope despite having to claw their way back up the muddy hillside into the arms of Jesus.

To those overcomers, he offers bread, a stone and a name. I love this metaphor as explained by a pastor friend of mine.

John likely remembered the conversation Jesus had with a crowd he had just miraculously fed. Awed by the miracle and wanting more, they followed Jesus around the Sea of Galilee asking for more. He told them this.

“I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. ” (John 6:48-50)

Jesus is the bread of life. The all-sustaining, eternal manna from heaven. In him we have all we need. We don’t need what the world offers.

He also offered a white stone. The meaning may be less clear, but most commentaries point to the judicial courts that may have handed a white stone to those declared innocent. Other scholars suggested that the white stone may have signified an invitation to a wedding.

Either idea fits within the context of this passage. God’s grace declares the repentant heart innocent of falling down that slippery slope, wiping the slate clean by the forgiveness purchased at the cross. It could be that those who repent find themselves invited again to the feast, to rejoice in a renewed relationship with Jesus.

I like that thought because the stone has my name written on it. It has your name written on it. When we present that stone to Jesus, he knows our name. It stands as a personal invitation to share an intimacy with Jesus that we might otherwise miss.

The symbolism is powerful. Eternal provision and divine satisfaction. A permanent transformation from guilt to innocence. Individual intimacy with the Father.

Those with an ear to hear are told to listen to what Jesus was telling the Christians in Pergamum. He calls us to stand firm. Most of us don’t struggle too much with the faith confession. We struggle with daily conduct, the seduction of compromise.

A look at the church in Pergamum begs the question. Are we also susceptible to the same spiritual schizophrenia? Willing to defend the faith, but failing to see the moral compromises we make?

Let’s pray it is not so. Put the Thin Mints away. Avoid the slippery slope.

To every overcomer, eat a little manna, take hold of that white stone with your name on it and accept the invitation to live in right relationship to the one who loves you so much that he gave his life to compensate for every time you skated that slippery slope.