grace – Dr. Kirk Lewis

Peace and Goodwill

Background Passages: Luke 2:9-14; Philippians 2:5-8; Ephesians 2:8; John 14:27; Isaiah 26:3; Philippians 4:11-13

You may know Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as the author of The Song of Hiawatha or Paul Revere’s Ride. One of America’s best and most prolific poets, Longfellow penned many poems, novels and anthologies. I found out recently that he also translated many European literary works into English, including Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

Like many poets, Longfellow experienced his fair share of tragedy. His first wife, Mary Potter, died suddenly while he was overseas. After a long courtship, he married Mary Frances Appleton in 1843. Together, they had six children. By all accounts, the marriage was a happy one until Frances died tragically in a fire in 1861.

With the outbreak of the American Civil war, Longfellow became a stout abolitionist. His oldest son, Charley enlisted on the Union side only to be wounded severely. In December of 1863, Longfellow found himself entering the Christmas season as a widower, with five dependent children and his oldest son on the brink of death.

As he tended to his son’s wounds, imagining the sounds of gunfire and cannon that injured him, he heard the bells of the local church ringing on Christmas morning. Longfellow sat down that evening, intent upon losing himself for a few hours in his writing. The result of that late night session was a poem entitled, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. Throughout the poem, the poet seemed to believe that the strife of the world had drowned out all hope of peace on earth and driven out any semblance of goodwill toward men.

Until he penned the last verse.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;”
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, goodwill to men.

A few years later, the poem was set to music by British organist John Baptiste Calkin, becoming the familiar Christmas carol we know today.

The song, particularly the version sung by Casting Crowns, is beautifully poignant, confronting us of the turmoil of our world while also reminding us that God, through his son, offers peace and goodwill to a troubled world. Luke, the gospel writer, introduces the phrase to us in his account of the birth of Jesus. However, I might suggest to Longfellow that the phrase does not mean what you thought it meant.

When the angels sang their praise, they were not exalting God for bringing about the absence of conflict and harmony among all people. They were praising the father for his steps in bringing about, as Paul says in Philippians 4:7, “a peace that surpasses all understanding.”

Let’s take a closer look at the story as it develops.

After Mary gave birth in the dingy confines of a cave turned stable, God sent an angel…one angel…to announce the birth of his son to shepherds tending their flock in the hills overlooking Bethlehem.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:9-12)

It is after this initial explanation that the angelic host appeared singing in heavenly harmony.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

Longfellow and the King James Version deeply ingrained the phrase as “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” The New International Version of the phrase I used here reads differently. However, it is possibly more accurate to the original Greek, according to biblical scholars.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Amid his tragic circumstances, I’m not sure peace and goodwill meant the same thing to Longfellow as it did to Luke. As we enter this season of advent, maybe it’s a good idea for us to consider what the angels proclaimed to the shepherds with such joy and happiness.

First, the object of their apparent joy was not the anticipated peace and goodwill, but God who reigns in the highest heaven. By sending his son as a baby born in a lowly manger, God finally put in motion his path of redemption which he had planned before he breathed life into his creation.

Jesus, God’s son, would live his life among us, demonstrating how we are to live the life that God envisioned for us, ultimately giving his life in exchange for my sin and yours.

As Paul is urging the Philippians to model their lives after Christ, he tells them:

…have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on the cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)

The angels recognized that the child born in Bethlehem was God’s great gift to a lost and troubled world. It would be this baby wrapped in cloth and resting in a manager filled with hay that would through his life, death and resurrection make joy of salvation available and attainable by all people. (See Luke 2:10)

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

It was this act of great love and grace that brought the angels to their feet in rising chorus to give all the glory and praise to a Father/God for what he had just done. The cries of a child in Bethlehem still reverberate through the lives of all who believe.

Glory to God in the highest heaven!

I was reminded again of the beauty of that gift when my eight-year-old granddaughter Lena called us over Facetime to tell us that she had made her faith commitment to Jesus. As I took in the expression of joy on her smiling face, I could hear the angels sing.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, indeed! For every man, woman and child who trusts Jesus as savior, the angels still sing God’s praise. Jesus told us as much in his parable of the lost coin.

In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:10)

While the heavens were praising God, the angels acknowledged the peace now available to those who find favor with God. That’s an important distinction. The angel who first appeared to the shepherds told them a child was born in Bethlehem who would be the long-anticipated Messiah. He announced it as good news of great joy to all people. The Messiah. Sent by God. Making salvation available to anyone and everyone.

However, peace is the gift offered to those “on whom his (God’s) favor rests.”

Good news offered to all. Peace offered only to those on whom his favor rests. It begs the question then, on whom does God’s favor rest? God’s favor rests on “whoever believes in him,” according to John 3:16. This is the gospel message that the angels shared. This is the good news.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing, but it is the gift of God. (Ephesians 2:8)

I see a connection here through the definition of grace I learned as a teenager. Grace is defined as God’s unmerited or undeserved favor. When I put my faith and trust in Jesus, I entered into right relationship with God only by his grace. Only when he extended this unmerited favor to me upon my faith commitment to him.

Because that grace was extended, because God rests his favor upon me, I find his promised peace. It’s the same peace Jesus promised his disciples in the upper room before he was crucified.

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Every person in this world, whether or not he or she is a believer in Christ, longs for peace. The difference in the peace of a believer and a nonbeliever is where they acquire their peace. A nonbeliever depends on his own resourcefulness or his own resources. He seeks peace through social causes, financial gain or temporary distractions.

Believers find peace not from things the world offers, but from God. Where earthly peace depends on circumstances and individual ability, godly peace does not. God’s peace proclaimed and promised by the angels singing to shepherds transcends our circumstances.

We live lives that can in one moment be divine and in the next be dreadful. The peace God provides goes beyond those up and down seasons of life. This ability to find contentment, to live in the moment in the joy of Christ, regardless of life’s circumstance is completely dependent upon the depth of our faith and trust in God’s presence and promise.

Look at what Isaiah said.

You (God) will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you. (Isaiah 26:3)

God will keep our hearts and minds at peace when we remain dependent upon him in all things by trusting in him through all things. Peace is not surrendering to the circumstance. Peace is surrendering everything in every circumstance to God. Trusting that he will be with us always…even when we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Paul addressed the issue in his letter to the Philippian church.

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 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. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4: 11-13)

We find peace and contentment only when we know that God will give us the strength we need to live faithfully in any and every situation. It comes when we listen to the words of Jesus when he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” When he says, “Do not be afraid.”

I’m certain you will read the Christmas story this year or have it read to you. I pray that you will not only hear the angels singing to the shepherds, but that you will join them in giving glory to God in the highest heaven for through his son he gives peace to those on whom his favor rests.

As he listened to those bells on Christmas day, Longfellow understood one thing when faced with all the hardships he encountered. “God is not dead, nor does he sleep.” Because he is ever with us, we can give Glory to God on high for the miraculous gift of his son Jesus. The one who brings peace to those on whom his favor rests. To all who believe in his name.

But God

Background Passages: Genesis 50:16-21; Romans 5:6,8; Ephesians 2:1-7

Every English teacher I ever had in school harped constantly on the use of strong, active verbs, almost to the point of sucking the joy out of writing.

I can still see that smattering of red ink circles drawn around certain verbs in my essays with a line to the margin indicating, in no uncertain terms, that my teacher was disappointed in my verb choice. I measured the quality of my paper less on the grade and more on the number of times I had to read Ms. Falks’ scribbled note in the margin that just said, “weak.”

I will come out of the closet today and admit that I have always enjoyed grammar. One of my favorite parts of speech is the lowly conjunction. In case you need a reminder, conjunctions are words that link other words, phrases or clauses together. Conjunctions allow a writer to form complex, elegant sentences by avoiding the choppiness of multiple short sentences.

My favorite conjunction is the word but. Its most common usage introduces a phrase or clause that contrasts with another phrase or clause which has already been stated. For instance, “He stumbled, but did not fall.”

But always makes a bolder and grander statement in a sentence than does and, if, or so. When it comes to these statements like these, the bigger, the better.

My thoughts this week germinated during last week’s Sunday School lesson about Joseph and his brothers. Near the end of that biblical narrative in Genesis 50, Joseph’s father Jacob had died. His brothers, who sold him into slavery when he was young, feared that Joseph would seek revenge on them now that Jacob was no longer in the picture.

They concocted a lie, putting words in Jacob’s mouth. Read what the Bible says about it. Look for that conjunctive phrase.

So they sent word to Joseph, saying, “Your father left these instructions before he died. This is what you are to say to Joseph: ‘I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they have committed in treating you so badly. Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father.’” When the message came, Joseph wept.

His brothers then came and threw themselves down before him. “We are your slaves,” they said. (Genesis 50:16-18)

Joseph responded to their deceitful plea in an unexpected way.

Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid, I will provide for you and your children. And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them. (Genesis 50:19-21)

Did you see it? “You intended harm, BUT GOD…”

What a big but! The words written after but God suggests a biblical truth written in a slightly different manner in the New Testament.

For we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

It’s a great lesson, but not today’s lesson.

As I reflected on that lesson last Sunday, those two words kept resurfacing. But God. We see the use of but God or but the Lord at least 61 times in scripture. One thing unfolds, but God uses it to reveal his character, to teach us something we need to learn or accomplish, or to bring about his will or his purpose.

The waters flooded the earth for a hundred and fifty days, but God remembered Noah… (Genesis 7:24-8:1)

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (I Samuel 16:7)

Similar instances occur in the New Testament.

No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you can bear. (I Corinthians 10:13)

He said to them, “You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to associate with or visit a Gentile. But God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean.” (Acts 10:28)

Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, for which I am suffering even to the point of being chained like a criminal. But God’s word is not chained.”(2 Timothy 2:8-9)

Study those passages on your own if you choose but notice how the phrase that comes after but God reveals so much about who God is and what he desires for us. The more I find that phrase mentioned in the Bible, the keener I am to pay attention to the words that follow. In every instance, there is a truth I probably need to hear.

The phrase, time and time again, introduces the gracious and compassionate intervention of God. He redeems. He resurrects. He makes all things new. He instructs. He is strength. He provides. He is faithful. When we erect a façade as a barrier to keep the world away, he sees straight into our hearts.

I said all of that to say this. This weekend is Palm Sunday, leading up to our celebration on Easter. There may be no greater use of the phrase but God among Christians than what you find in the Easter narrative.

Here’s the message of Easter in one simple but God statement.

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6, 8)

The message of Easter is one big but God. All hope seems gone. All seems lost. Then, we see this but God moment on the cross and in the empty tomb. Those words should have been the sign Pilate inscribed for his cross…not “He claimed to be King of the Jews,” but God.… It is the crux of his redemptive work and Paul knew it.

God waited until just the right moment when we could understand the depth of his sacrificial love. When the time was right, he sent his son, even though we were powerless to do anything about it on our own and ungodly in our actions.

This inconceivable act of love was in the mind and heart of our omnipotent creator from the beginning. Even before God brought those first molecules of creation together, he knew his most precious creation would rebel against him. He knew you and I would be steeped in sin and in need of a way back to him. And he provided the way.

Paul testified as much to the church in Ephesus when he wrote these words.

As for you, you were dead in in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of the world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But God, being rich in mercy and because of his great love for us, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.” (Ephesians 2:1-5)

Through an act of unmitigated love and mercy, through an act of grace, you and I, as believers in Christ, experienced our but God moment at some point in our past. We find that the celebration will continue forever, according to Paul’s next words.

But God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in the kindness in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:6-7)

This is the ultimate reason for sacrificing his son on the cross. This is his reason for emptying the tomb. He wants us to one day experience his eternal grace…the joy of which is indescribable.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him. These are thing revealed to us by his spirit.” (I Corinthians 2:9-10)

“…But God…”

Maybe that’s the message some need to hear today. A simple paraphrase of one of the Bible’s most cherished verses.

But God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Maybe today can be their “but God” moment, making this Easter even more special.

For those of us who have already claimed that eternal promise and experienced our personal but God moment, what about here? What about now?

Because they reveal to me the character of the God I serve and the life he demands I live, every but God statement in scripture calls me to live a Christ-like life…even when I’m overwhelmed by the circumstances in which I’m living.

Claiming the promises of God is never easy, especially when overwhelming circumstances put us at wits end. You and I will struggle as we try to live as a disciple of Christ. While I don’t always follow through, it has been my experience that we can trust in those but God lessons we find in scripture.

In a recent blog, Lisa Appelo wrote, “But God brings hope when we can’t see a way through. But God means ashes aren’t the end of our story. And but God, not our circumstances, always gets the last word.”

In other words, go back to Joseph’s story, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done…”

That’s the story of Easter. Every but God is his grace gift and promise of eternity in heaven, but it is so much more. It is life abundant. Here. Now. But God is the peace that surpasses our understanding. It is knowing that God walks with us through the good and bad times of life, actively working in all things for the good of those who love him. But God is knowing that he has a plan for us and will actively work in our lives to see it happen in our lives.

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

Wow! Just wow!

But God.

When Suffering Comes

Background Passages: Revelation 2:8-11, Isaiah 43:2, John 16:33, I Peter 1:6-7

I leaned against the hoe at the end of a quarter-mile row of young cotton, fighting back a fit of anger. My Mom was already 30 feet down the four rows she was hoeing, doing what had to be done.

Dad was on the tractor, plowing a different section of the farm. My older brother stayed in the house that morning “suffering” from his convenient hay fever. My younger sister was given different, and by that I mean easier, chores that didn’t involve the tedium of the hoe.

I begged to stay home that morning using the strongest debate point I could muster, “It’s not fair.”

Rather than the customary sympathy I expected from my Mom, she chopped those weeds as she walked away and said with a shake of her head, “Get used to it.”

“It’s not fair.”

I smile inwardly now when I hear those words from my grandchildren. It’s a truth they must learn the hard way. As much as our culture would like it to be, life isn’t always fair. We should never stop trying to make it more so, but it will never be fair in all aspects.

Adults are not immune to the feeling. Our personal world caves in for one reason or another. A loved one gets sick or injured. A disheartening diagnosis comes our way. A promotion is handed to someone else. Your neighbor seems to live a charmed life where everything works out perfectly.

We may not voice it the same way we did as children, but we feel it. When the hard times come as they inevitably do and will—when we suffer–it’s difficult not to fall back on the pained and plaintive cry, “It’s not fair!”

Being Christian does not immunize us against difficult times. All of us face those deep trials eventually. Isaiah recognized the certainty of hardship and suffering. He also knew suffering could not defeat the faithful child of God if for no other reason than we will not make that journey alone.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Understanding that promise is what keeps the Christian from becoming a victim to the “life is not fair” culture. We can overcome life’s hardships because the one we trust also overcame.

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

Long time pastor and author Ray Pritchard recalled preparing for a radio broadcast with Jim Warren on Moody Radio for Primetime America. As they discussed some recent heartbreak, Warren shared this thought. “When hard times come,” he said, “be a student, not a victim.”

Pritchard called it one of the most profound statements he ever heard. He said, “Some people go through life as professional victims, always talking about how they have been mistreated. But perpetual victimhood dooms you to a life of self-centered misery because you learn nothing from your trials.

“A victim says, ‘Why did this happen to me?’ A student says, ‘What can I learn from this?’

“A victim looks at everyone else and cries out, ‘Life isn’t fair.’ A student looks at life and says, ‘What happened to me could have happened to anyone.’

“A victim believes his hard times have come because God is trying to punish him. A student understands that God allows hard times to help him grow.”

I think the church at Smyrna would have understood this. Prior to Easter, my last Bible study focused on the word of God to the church at Ephesus. I mentioned at the time, that I would pick up with the messages to six other churches as found in the book of Revelation. We will focus this week on the Christian church in Smyrna. Though these seven churches are historic congregations, the message Jesus delivered to them through John remains relevant to Christians today.

Smyrna, located about 35 miles north of Ephesus on the Aegean Sea. shared a long and storied history that began as a successful Greek colony 1,000 years before Christ. Raided and razed by the Lydeans around 600 BC, Smyrna ceased to exist for the next 400 years, a pile of ruin and rubble. The city rose from its ashes around 200 BC, rebuilt as a planned community with beautifully paved streets and a perfectly protected harbor.

By the time John writes Revelation, Smyrna is a free city, committed with absolute fidelity to Rome. Cicero called it “one of our most faithful and most ancient allies.” It was the first city in the world to erect a temple to the spirit of Rome and the goddess, Roma. The Roman citizens within the city worshipped the emperor as a god and made worshipping any other deity a serious crime.

Jews earned an exception to the rule primarily by placating the Roman authorities and paying large tribute to the emperor to fund public works. The Jewish population grew increasingly hostile toward the Christians, fearing that they would lose their protected status and privileges.

Christians living in Smyrna suffered severe hardship because of their faith. Having none of the legal protections and refusing to call the emperor a god placed them at odds with Rome and with the Jews. The Christians in Smyrna chose not to bow down to the emperor despite the laws of the land. Rome typically ignored their insubordination in a sort of “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach.

In other words, they didn’t look for Christians to persecute, but would investigate if someone complained. Fearing for their favored status among the Romans, the Jews complained often. And, if they had nothing concrete to go on, they made things up.

When Rome was forced to investigate, Christians who refused to kneel before the emperor would be stripped of their possessions, banned from employment and, in some cases, put to death.

Yet, through their growing difficulties, they remained faithful disciples (students) of Jesus rather than victims to the mounting persecution and problems.

Read Jesus’ words to the “angels of the church in Smyrna:”

“These are the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. I know your afflictions and your poverty—yet you are rich! I know the slander of those who say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.

“Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful even to the point of death and I will give you the crown of life. (Revelation 2:8-10)

What an encouragement these words must have been to a faithful church oppressed!

Jesus describes himself as the First and Last, as the one who died and is alive again. It is upon the foundation of Christ that the church is built. He was the First. Their cornerstone. Their foundation. He was the Last. The Judge. The one before whom all men must stand in judgment of their actions.

Surely, the church in Smyrna found courage and strength in knowing that, regardless of the pressure put upon them by Rome or the Jews, Jesus was their unshakable foundation. As the one who died and is alive again, Jesus proclaimed his powerful presence among them. He would judge those who persecuted them.

Despite their “afflictions and poverty,” Jesus considers them rich! Impoverished by the world’s standards, they lived in the abundance of God’s grace. As his children, they shared in the riches and glory of God’s kingdom.

Despite the dire circumstances, the church in Smyrna refused to give in. Despite their suffering, they persevered. While God found a flaw among most of the seven churches mentioned in Revelation, he could only commend Smyrna for their strength, courage and perseverance amid their troubles.

Jesus told them the suffering would continue. Persecution was inevitable. He told them they would be tried and tested for their faith. He reassured them that the trials and troubles would last only a little while compared to the eternity that awaited them.

So, in the face of hardship and difficulty, Jesus gave them two commands. “Do not be afraid,” he said, “Be faithful, even unto death.” In other words. Don’t worry about what’s happening in your life. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Remain faithful, even if it kills you.

To anyone of us who has experienced the tragedies of life, that’s a difficult pill to swallow. While we might adopt the “one day at a time” attitude just to get through the struggle, it seldom makes sense. I doubt the people in Smyrna understood any better than we do.

How could they not be afraid? Jesus told them early in this passage. “I too was persecuted. I was put to death. Yet, I am alive again.” In essence he told them whatever your suffering may be, remember I overcame death. If you persevere to the end, you will overcome all things. You will overcome death as well. The worst problems and afflictions in this life pale in comparison to the eternal glory which God shares with his people.

My life has been blessed by God. Most of the difficulties I have experienced have been self-imposed. My mistakes. My decisions. My fault. The sorrow and sadness I’ve felt, the pain and suffering that comes as an inevitable part of life has been temporary and intensely overshadowed by God’s blessings.

I also know difficult times are ahead. It is inevitable. I can either declare life unfair and call myself a victim or I can be a student of a persecuted Lord and Savior who endured the worst the world could offer on my behalf. I suspect you feel the same.

Jesus is our unshakable cornerstone and foundation. As a victor over persecution and death, he lives today. His presence in our lives through his Holy Spirit is real and powerful. His comfort flows freely to those who are frightened and hurting.

In the face of all that is unnerving and painful, he tells us the same thing he told the brothers and sisters in Smyrna. Do not be afraid. Don’t let the troubles of this world keep you from living a life of committed service to the one to whom you owe everything. Do not be afraid. Feel the presence of a risen Lord. Cling to the hope he brings.

Be faithful. Focus on that promise of eternal victory and not on the hardships ahead. Though the troubles may seem difficult and long-lasting, their duration is but a vanishing mist when compared to all eternity. Suffering is temporary. Faith is forever.

Jesus told the persecuted people of the church in Smyrna that those who overcome “will not be hurt at all by the second death.” (Revelation 2:11)

The second death. That’s what Jesus called spiritual separation from the father. God’s victory is final. That’s what I know. When the day of judgment comes and God separates the sheep from the goats, his sheep will not be hurt and will not suffer. Those who never trusted in his name will face a spiritual death that separates them from the goodness and grace of God forever.

Pritchard said, “A victim begs God to remove the problems of life so that he might be happy. A student (a disciple of Christ) has learned through the problems of life that God alone is the source of all true happiness.

That’s the true Christian outlook. We believe so much in the sovereignty of God that when hard times come, we know that God is at work for our good and his glory.

One final point, hardships don’t come because God needs to figure out who his true believers are using some spiritual obstacle course. Rather, our ability to endure and persevere because of our faith shines a light on God for the rest of the world to see. Through our pain we prove the true nature of our faith. Those on the outside looking in witness the power, the presence, the goodness and grace of our father in heaven.

“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith…may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus is revealed.” (I Peter 1:6-7)

I read a quote this week from Caleb Suko, a pastor serving in Ukraine. I think he sums up well the message Jesus shared with the believers in Smyrna. It’s the same message we need to hear today.

Suko said, “If you have Christ then all your pain is temporary. If you don’t, then all your pleasure is temporary.”

As the song goes, “I’d rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today.”

A Seat at His Table

Background Passages: I Samuel 30:1-6; 2 Samuel 9:1-12; I Peter 1:4; and Romans 1:17

I was probably 12 years old when it happened. During our extended family gatherings, the children piled their plates with food and sat around folding tables in my grandmother’s living room, listening surreptitiously to the adult conversations in the dining room next door, longing for the day when we could sit at the big table.

There was something maturing about sitting among the adults. The teasing among cousins in the “kid’s room” gave way to the easy listening to life lessons and good-natured banter among my parents and my uncles and aunts. I found it riveting. I also found it much easier to reach the ham and coconut cream pie.

I thought of that today when in my Bible study I came across I story I read long ago and forgot. It’s a great reminder today about why we get to sit at the big table.

Bad news travels fast.
Israel’s army routed.
Saul and Jonathan slain in battle.
As the news breaks,
panic ran rampant throughout the encampment.

We’ll call her “Eglah.”
A nursemaid for Jonathan’s son,
Mephibosheth.
The young maiden scooped the frightened five-year-old
into her arms,
raced passed the tents,
pushed through the throng of terrified people.

Into the hills they escaped,
as far from the battlefield as possible.
As she climbed the rocky path carrying the young child,
Eglah tripped on a tree root.
Stumbled and fell to the ground,
crushing the child between her and the unyielding rocks.

He shrieked in pain.
Both ankles broken,
twisted at unnatural angles.

Alone and scared,
Eglah wrapped the shattered bones as best she could,
lifted the sobbing child again into her arms
and continued her flight to the east.
Five days later, the two refugees crossed the Jordan River
Finding a safe haven in the home of a friend in Lo Debar.
A nothing place.
Off the beaten path.
A great place to hide.

Eglah.
A simple maiden.
Knew enough of the world to know
that a new king
would seek out all descendants of the old ruler
to eliminate every threat to his reign.

In terror they hid in Lo Debar
Fearful of every stranger
who chanced upon their village.
In hiding for 15 years.
Mephibosheth’s feet never healed properly,
Leaving him a cripple both in body and spirit.

Meanwhile, across the Jordan in a
conquered Jerusalem…

King David.
Stood on the balcony of his palace
overlooking the valley below.
The journey to this place difficult.
Anointed by God as a child.
The future king of Israel.
A youth spent avoiding the insanity of Saul.
Fighting battles with the Philistines.
Leading armies against the
Moabites and the Edomites.

Finally, after years of war,
surveyed the land he now controlled from Jerusalem’s walls
and declared peace.
Standing at last where God
called him to stand.

Yet on a day when all was right,
his heart rang hollow…empty.
He always envisioned sharing moments like this
with his best friend Jonathan.
David still mourned his death
after so many years.
Jonathan’s friendship had been a
God-given gift.

Standing on the balcony this day,
David remembered the promise Jonathan
asked of David so long ago.

“Please show to me your unfailing kindness
like the Lord’s kindness
as long as I live,
so that I may not be killed,
and do not ever cut off your kindness from my family…”
(I Samuel 20:14-15)

David intended to honor that covenant.
Calling for his advisors,
David asked,

“Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul
to whom I can show kindness for
Jonathan’s sake?”
(2 Samuel 9:1)

And the search began.

Eventually, David discovered Mephibosheth,
living under the radar,
out of sight,
in a nothing place on the
outer edge of the kingdom.

Read the rest of the story for yourself.

“When Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan, son of Saul,
came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor.

“David said, ‘Mephibosheth!’

“’Your servant,’ he replied.

“’Don’t be afraid,’ David said to him,
‘for I will surely show you kindness
for the sake of your father Jonathan.
I will restore to you all the land that
belonged to your grandfather Saul,
and you will always eat at my table.’

“Mephibosheth bowed down and said,
‘What is your servant,
that you should notice a dead dog like me?’

“So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table
like one of the king’s sons.”

(2 Samuel 9:6-8, 11)

I find in this heart-warming Bible story, a clear message of God’s desire for a relationship with a broken and self-isolated world. I find common ground with Mephibosheth. Any believer redeemed by God should relate to the experience of being granted grace undeserved by a king. The budding relationship between God and Mephibosheth is a perfect picture of God’s relationship to you and me.

Nothing in the realm of world politics required David to care for Mephibosheth. In fact, David’s advisors surely warned him against bringing Saul’s grandson into the city. For his part, Mephibosheth understood enough to know his life was not his own. He harbored no illusions that if he were ever discovered by the king, his life was forfeit. Kingdom politics at play. When he dragged his useless feet into the throne room, bowed before the king in sincere humility, he knew mercy was his only hope.

Nothing in the spiritual realm requires God to reach out to a sinful humanity. He is the Creator God. Our rebellion deserved punishment. Yet, he made a covenant of grace with his people. A promise he would eternally keep. Kingdom reality at play. While we deserved death, he found a way to give us new life. Mercy is our only hope.

For his part, David made a promise long ago to Jonathan, a man he viewed as a brother. It was a covenant rooted in love and watered by grace. Once he got wind of a living child of Jonathan, David found him in a desolate place…disabled, disheartened, defeated by the cruelty of life. But when he looked into his eyes, he saw the eyes of Jonathan and his heart leapt with joy. “Mephibosheth!”

It is the same celebration enjoyed by the Father and his angels when a sinner repents. God looks into the eyes of the sinner and sees the eyes of Jesus and his heart leaps with joy. “Kirk!” God celebrated in the same way when every believer bowed before the king. He longs to celebrate with every lost child who now lives in Lo Debar fearful of being discovered by a God whose heart he does not understand.

David did two things for Mephibosheth so illustrative of God’s compassion and grace toward us. First, he returned his dignity. Living so long in his nothing place, Mephibosheth saw himself equal to his surroundings. A bundle of self-loathing on crutches. Wretched. Crippled. Unworthy. A mirror image of every humiliating taunt the misguided attached to his name. In his own words, a “dead dog.” Dogs were detested in Jewish culture, considered unclean. A dead dog was a double whammy.

David did the unthinkable. He called him by name. No longer “crippled.” No longer “damaged goods.” No longer “lost,” “forgotten,” or “alone.” Look at it in the scripture. He was “Mephibosheth!” With an exclamation point, not a question mark or a simple period.

The first gift David gave to Mephibosheth was to return to him his dignity. The first gift God gives to us is to call us by name and declare us worthy of his love through the sacrificial death and miraculous resurrection of his son, Jesus Christ. All dignity we lost as sinners returned when he called us by name.

Secondly, David restored Mephibosheth all he had lost. By adopting him into his family, David restored his inheritance and gave him a seat at the king’s table. Think prodigal son. The father, watching every day, praying for his son’s return. Seeing him returning on the horizon he calls for the ring and robe and prepared a banquet in his honor. Returning him to the seat he once occupied. Far more than Mephibosheth could have hoped. Far more, he knew, than he deserved.

Is that not an amazing example of God’s grace toward us?

In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade…kept in heaven for you…” (I Peter 1:4)

Now, if we are children, then we are heirs…heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may share in his glory.” Romans 1:17

Through the salvation he offers, he grants us an eternal seat at his table. Forever a child of the king. A place of belonging.

Grace is not an easy concept to grasp. We define it with two words. “Unmerited favor.” We trust it as the basis of our salvation. Though we sing it with fervor I’m not sure we understand how amazing it truly is.

God painted this beautiful picture of grace and the story of Mephibosheth was its canvas. All I know is that I was Mephibosheth and Mephibosheth was me. And today, by the good grace of God, I have a place at the king’s table.

A Cautionary Fish Tale

Background Passages: Matthew 17:24-27; I Cor. 9:19-22; and Hebrews 4:15

For two days
they fished the Sea of Galilee.
The catch?
A little light in the net.
Good.
Not great.

Josiah hauled the barrel of fish to market.
Eli stayed in the middle of the lake,
casting the nets.

Selling the tilapia and carp in Capernaum
earned the two partners
a four-drachma coin.
Two day’s wages split
two ways.

That afternoon,
Josiah rowed his boat
alongside his brother’s skiff.

“How much?”
asked Eli.

“Barely enough,”
was the disappointed answer.

Josiah pulled the coin from the small bag
hidden in the pocket of his robe.
Handed it to his brother.
They fumbled the exchange and the
coin slipped from their fingers
into the water.

They watched helplessly as the sun glinted off
the silver coin as it twirled and tumbled
deeper into the sea and
out of sight.

Two days’ earnings lost.

The flash of light on silver caught the eye of a
carp swimming beneath the boat.
On instinct the fish struck and swallowed the object,
Cold and hard.
Lodged in the gullet.

And, the fish swam away.

Except for the fishermen who spent the rest of the day kicking themselves for their carelessness, this imagined episode was an insignificant event of life on the Sea of Galilee. Yet, God used this story to explain a critical truth about his son.

Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum at a time when the “temple tax” was due. Once a voluntary gift to support God’s work at the temple in Jerusalem, the Romans twisted it into a mandatory tax to build its own pagan temples. Once a year, collectors set up a table on the outskirts of every Jewish town requiring everyone to pay the equivalent of a day’s wage to the Roman government. An unpopular tax, as you can imagine.

Jesus and his disciples had gained some notoriety among the people of Capernaum. This seaside village was his Galilean base of operation. Peter lived there. It is not unreasonable to assume the tax collector knew Peter well. As the disciple passed that day, the man, perhaps a natural critic and skeptic of Jesus and his work, challenged Peter.

“Does your teacher pay the temple tax?”

Without a glance at the tax man, Peter’s answer was terse and to the point. “Yes.”

Peter walked the streets toward his mother-in-law’s home where Jesus was staying, stewing over Roman arrogance and the abuse of the temple tax. The idea of paying a tax to build a pagan temple offended him. A few minutes later, Peter angrily pushed open the door, banging it against the wall.

Startled, Jesus looked up from the table where he sat eating a fig. With the insight of God’s spirit, Jesus took one look at the disciple’s face and answered the question before it was asked.

“What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes? From their own children or from others?

Understanding the privileges of power, Peter looked at his feet and mumbled, “from others.”

“Then the children are exempt. But, so that we may not cause offense, go to the lake, throw out your line. Take the fish you catch. Open its mouth, you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.”

What an odd and obscure passage of scripture! It’s no surprise, I guess, that Matthew is the only gospel writer to tell this unusual story. As a former tax collector, it was, after all, in his wheelhouse.

Though I read the passage in the past, I never gave it much thought. When I skimmed it this week, I stopped. The words of the Bible were not written by chance. So, why put these three verses in scripture for us to read?

Barclay tells us in his commentary that the story is a mini-parable. A story. He says Jesus would never use his power for something so mundane as to pay his obligations. Remember the temptations of Christ in the wilderness? Barclay says its Jesus’ way of telling Peter that his followers must pay our lawful debts, even when they find them distasteful. Jesus used this dramatic story to tell Peter, go fish. Earn what we need to earn to pay this tax.

I can buy the idea of a parable, but I’m not sure this commentary’s hammer is hitting its nail squarely.

The parable teaches us about Jesus. Draws our attention to him. Matthew’s gospel addressed the Jewish people who longed for the promised Messiah. It also speaks to all of us in need of the redemption offered by God through Christ. The story is about Jesus. King of the Jews. The atonement for sin. The ransom for the soul to which all the Old Testament and Jewish law pointed. As such, it is an important word.

However, when put in its broader context, maybe there is more we can learn. According to Matthew just a few verses earlier, Peter was among a trio of disciples to recently witness the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop. They heard the affirmation of God declaring his love for his son and his pleasure at his work. When the experience was over, the disciples didn’t want to leave the mountaintop. They wanted to remain in awe-inspired, blissful worship. Jesus and his disciples, though, had more work to do so down in the valley.

With that remarkable experience still fresh on Peter’s mind, the tax collector confronted him in Capernaum. At that moment, I can see Peter bristling at the idea of paying a Roman tax when his master had just been affirmed by God in the presence of Moses and Elijah. There’s a sort of “Don’t you know who he is? or “Don’t you know who I am?” kind of arrogant vibe to the encounter. “This is God’s son you’re hassling, buddy! And I’m his right hand man! Back off!”

Peter really wanted to tell Jesus about the irritating encounter. Before he could get a word out, Jesus,with his keen insight into human nature, opened the conversation. It’s interesting that Jesus used Peter’s old name in this passage. He called him “Simon.” Jesus reverted to Peter’s birth name on those occasions when Peter was not acting like “the rock” he needed him to be. I suspect when Jesus addressed the disciple as Simon it was the same as my Mom calling me, “Kirk Allan.” A “what have I done this time?” moment.

Peter probably answered Jesus’ question tentatively, with uncertainty in his voice, “the others…”, but he answered correctly. The implication from Jesus clear. “On one level, Peter, you’re not wrong. You and I both know I’m the son of God. You heard as much on the mountain. As the son of God I am under no obligation of any kind to man’s law and rule. But, that’s not the point, is it?”

Then, Jesus uttered a phrase that changes Peter’s perspective from a position of holy supremacy to a posture of humble service.

“So that we may not cause offense…”

Those who know tell me that the Greek word used for “offense” in this passage means “to cause someone to stumble.” It suggests that even though Jesus, by nature of who he is, had no obligation to pay this tax, he would pay it so his refusal would not be an obstacle placed before the Jewish people. He didn’t want to create an issue that would distract from the message he preached.

Paul reflected a similar attitude with the Corinthian church.

“For, though I am free from all men, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more…I have become all things to all men that I might by all means save some. (I Cor. 9:19-22)

Jesus didn’t come to make a political or cultural point. He came to redeem a world that had lost its way. Throwing up obstacles, creating distractions, would not get it done.

Jesus constantly made conscious decisions throughout his ministry to set aside his position as God’s son consistent with his pattern of grace and sensitivity to the struggles of others. The writer of Hebrews reminds us…

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are…yet he did not sin.” (Hebrews 4:15)

As an act of love, Jesus…

set aside his place as the son of God…
never compromised his message or ministry…
complied with the mundane…
replaced condemnation with forgiveness…

all in an effort to avoid setting obstacles in front of those whom he wanted to place their faith in him.

I wonder if that’s not the best lesson found in this fish tale? As children of God, we see many things in this world that we know are not right. Actions counter to God’s law and his will. It has become so easy to condemn without grace. To set barriers between those who offend our political and cultural convictions and the salvation offered by Jesus’ death and resurrection.

The story causes me to think. What barriers have I erected? What have I said or done in my own arrogance that would stand in the way of my witness to others about Christ?

“So that we might not cause offense…”

It’s a fish tale worth considering.

Forgiveness Without Limits

Background Passage: Matthew 18:21-35

One can’t be sure what prompted the question. Perhaps it was born out of a natural argument among men who traveled together days on end. Men getting on each other’s nerves after too much time together, staring into the distance from opposite sides of the road.

Perhaps the question popped into his head after hearing another rabbi expound in heavy monotone in the local synagogue about the law’s limit on human forgiveness.

Perhaps the question rattled around his brain after hearing Jesus teach about harmony among believers and dealing with the unrepentant sinner among them.

Whatever the prompt, Peter sidled up to Jesus one day with an honest question about forgiveness. “How many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me?”

The scripture Peter knew laid specific guidelines for forgiveness, declaring that you should forgive anyone three times. One was not obligated to forgive a fourth offense. The question Peter posed reflected the thinking of the day. Surely, there is a point where forgiveness is no longer expected. In essence, “When can I stop forgiving someone who hurts me?”

His follow up question suggests that Peter had a gut feeling that Jesus always lived in a “walk the extra mile-turn the other cheek” kind of world when it came to the law. He certainly saw evidence of Jesus’ boundless forgiveness in his time with his Lord. So, Peter exerted his opinion in the form of another question. “How many times shall I forgive a brother or sister who sins against me? Seven times?”

In the debate bouncing around in his head, Peter must have thought he would catch an “atta boy” from his Master for his magnanimous spirit. “The law says ‘three’ times. Let’s double that and add one for good measure. Now that’s turning the other cheek.”

Maybe it played out like this:

Jesus stooped as he walked
down the dusty path.
Picking up a chunk of gray basalt
along the side of the road.
“That’s a great question, Peter.”
Jesus bounced the rock in his hand a time or two.
Thinking about his response.
Casually threw the rock side-armed.
Bouncing it off the trunk of a cypress tree
60 feet down the road.

“I tell you, Peter.
It’s more than that.
You’re still too literal. Not seven times.
Seventy-seven times.

“We won’t get through this life
without someone hurting us.
Taking advantage.
Offending.
Insulting.
Happens in the closest families.
Happens within the fellowship of believers.

“How much do we damage all those relationships
if we put a limit on our forgiveness?
Doesn’t our limited attitude
set a substantial barrier between us and
those we are supposed to love?

“The law says three.
You say seven.
Both are limits.”

Jesus sat under the same cypress tree
he plunked with the stone.
Glad to get out of the summer heat.
His disciples settled around him,
taking a quick drink from a shared
water bag Nathaniel carried.

No heavy sermon.
No deep theology.
Just a tongue-in cheek story to teach
a powerful lesson about the
size of their hearts.

“The kingdom we’re trying to build here is different.
“Let’s suppose…”

Jesus then launched into a parable about a king to whom a servant owed more money that the disciples could imagine. 10,000 talents. Historians tell us a talent represented the equivalent of 6,000 days’ wages. Staggering! The number Jesus imagined would support a man for 164,000 years. Hear the laughter roll through the disciples as they could scarcely comprehend the outrageous fortune the man owed. Hyperbole of the highest magnitude. Jesus laughs with them. Sees that he’s captured their attention.

Jesus continues. The time comes to collect the bill and the king says, “Pay up or you and your family will be sold into slavery and all you own will be confiscated to repay what is owed…knowing full well the servant’s assets would scarcely make a dent in the debt.

The man falls on the floor promising to repay what he has no hope of repaying. Grasping at straws. Begging for mercy. Yet, somehow, the man’s contrite spirit touches the king deeply.

Jesus mimics wiping a tear from his eyes, “Your debt is cancelled. Go home.”

The disciples react with a chuckle and few comments about the king’s enormous wealth and the servant’s good fortune. Jesus waited until they settled down. His playful demeanor turning more solemn.

“Now suppose this very relieved servant…”

Jesus’ brow furrows in thought, eyes searching deeply into the heart of each disciple as he speaks. He explains how the forgiven servant encountered a colleague who owed him six months’ wages, a pittance compared with his former debt. Yet, the man whose debt was wiped clean grabbed his friend by the scruff of the neck demanding his payment.

That servant was in no better place financially than the forgiven one. Using the exact same words the first servant spoke to the king, the man falls on the ground. Begs for mercy. Promises to pay back a difficult, but not impossible, sum of money. Rather than extend the same mercy as he received, the man had the other thrown in jail until his debt could be paid.

The injustice described hit home with the disciples. Caught up in the story, they grumbled a bit, angry at the first servant.

Jesus becomes more animated as he continues the parable. His words coming more rapidly. “Now, when the king found out, he was livid and called the first servant before him. You wicked servant. I canceled all your debt because you begged me. Where is your mercy toward the one who owed you?”

The disciples pondered the words during the pregnant silence that hung in the air like a morning mist. Jesus added, “This is how my Father will treat you unless you forgive your brother and sister from your heart.”

I think Jesus liked Peter’s question. It gave him a chance to help the disciples sink the plow of personal belief a little more deeply in the fertile soil of applicable faith. It never crossed Jesus’ mind to make forgiveness a quantifiable event. Yet, the religious law of the day did exactly that, dragging the plow along the surface, setting the standard in shallow attitudes seemed to look forward to a day of retaliation rather than a time of reconciliation.

Peter stretched the legal limit as far as he felt comfortable. “I know you expect more from us, Jesus, than the law requires.” And, in that moment of inspiration, he doubled the law’s demand and added one to grow on. “Seven seems like a fair number,” proud of the forbearance it showed.

Jesus understood forgiveness as a way of being…a lifestyle choice. To Jesus, forgiveness was a way of relating to others. Thinking about others. Loving others. Forgiveness is nothing less than the way of Christ. If we are to live in his image, forgiveness must be our way as well. Not three times. Not seven times, but as an open expression of whose we are.

Picture Jesus. Visiting with the woman at the well, turning her from her troubled lifestyle.

Watch him. Writing in the dirt next to the woman caught in the act of adultery as the Pharisees who wished to stone her walked away with guilt laden feet. “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

See him. Wrapping his arm around Peter who lived for weeks with the sound of that rooster crowing in his head, “Feed my sheep.”

Forgiveness.

The way of Christ.

An infinite, life-altering act of grace.

In his book, Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis wrote, “Forgiveness is a lovely idea, until there is something to forgive.” A promising premise, in principle, until we face the dreadful reality of pardoning the grievous and unforgivable.

Our lives are filled with broken promises, bitter betrayals and hurt feelings. We cry over unkind words, licking our physical and emotional wounds, telling our stories of loss and pain at the hands of another. Underneath all of it lies the question of forgiveness. How can we move past the hurt and into the healing?

Jesus told his disciples that forgiveness flows from the heart. He meant that they must dig deeply into their innermost being and find a way to set aside the anger, frustration and bitterness. To offer sincere words of forgiveness wrapped in the warmth of God’s love, extended with a handshake or embrace.

If the greatest attribute of God in Christ is love, one could make an argument that forgiveness is the greatest expression of love. This much seems to be true…living in the image of God requires us to demonstrate boundless forgiveness. It’s not that easy.

I have listened in amazement to a friend whose son was the innocent victim of a drive-by shooting talk sincerely about forgiving the one who senselessly took his son’s life. I heard honest words of forgiveness from a woman whose beloved grandmother was killed because the drunk driver shared one too many glasses of wine.

How can we hear testimonies like those and still harbor resentment toward the person who sat in our pew last Sunday? How can we let a few ill-chosen words of a neighbor cut us off from the fellowship we once enjoyed?

When we start counting the offenses we suffer at the hands of another…adding up the chalk marks until that day when we can say, “Enough is enough…” then we’re living exactly like the first servant in Jesus’ story. While we ignore the 10,000 talents of sin our Father forgave us, we hold our offender by the scruff of the neck, demanding payment… unwilling to forgive even the slightest of sins against us.

I share breakfast and Bible reading once a week with a group of men in the community where I work. Every breakfast ends with the Lord’s Prayer. The model prayer offered a petition and an expectation, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Jesus said as much to the disciples as he wrapped up this impromptu lesson. I see him rising from the tree under which he sat, bending down to pick up another rock, bouncing in lightly in his hand. He reared back and threw it, striking another bullseye on the trunk of another cypress tree 60 feet farther down the road.

Setting off down the road again, he ended the lesson with a casual but cautionary moral to the story, “If you don’t forgive others, how can God possible forgive you.”

His disciples get up and follow with their plow set a little deeper in the fertile soil of faith.

The lesson Jesus teaches his disciples, he also teaches us. Peter shared our human tendency to limit forgiveness. But to forgive beyond counting is inhuman. It doesn’t originate from us. It is born of a heart changed by God through Christ and his indwelling spirit of grace living within us. Christ living in us. Us living in the image of Christ.

One Day

Background Passage: Luke 24:1-12

Creativity is a gift from God. I read a passage in a book with a well-turned phrase or hear the dynamic lyrics to a song and marvel at the ability of writers to string words together to creates a sound that reverberates in the heart of the reader or listener.

This week, I heard the song, Glorious Day, performed by Casting Crowns. Though the song was not new to me, I enjoyed its message and melody. This time my ears picked up on the familiar lyrics. Lyrics that sat me down among my teenage friends in the second pew from the back on the left side of the church in the First Baptist Church or Ropesville, Texas.

“One day when heaven was filled with his praises,
One day when sin was as black as could be,
Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin,
Dwelt among men my example is he.”

The modern tune had disguised the lyrics of the song from my youth. I’m not sure why my ears heard the words differently today. The overwhelming sense of spiritual nostalgia took me back to the foundation of my faith in that small rural community. If you’re older than 30 you will probably remember the words penned in 1908 by J. Wilbur Chapman as the song, One Day.

According to most stories behind this famous song, Chapman, a Presbyterian pastor and evangelist who preached during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, wrote a poem to go with a sermon he presented as a guest pastor at Stony Brook Bible Conference. He gave the poem to his pianist Charles Marsh who wrote the tune to the old hymn.

The powerful lyrics captured the essence of God’s plan for the world from the beginning of time. The first line confirms the pre-existence in time of Jesus, God’s son. One day dwelling in heaven. Receiving the praises of the angels for his glory and majesty. One day as God’s creation turned on the axis of selfishness, God sent his son to dwell among us as an example for us to follow of obedience and faith.

One day he is nailed to a cross, a grace gift offsetting the sins of any repentant soul. One day buried. One day risen. The eternal message of Easter.

Then, in an incredible fashion, Chapman crafted a succinct refrain that lays out the depth and breadth of God’s redeeming love.

Living he loved me.
Dying he saved me.
Buried the carried my sin far away.
Rising he justified, freely forever.
One day he’s coming
Oh, Glorious Day.

Though I love the tune written by Michael Bleecker, the melody doesn’t change the message. The old standard may well resonate with those of us who have lived long as recipients of his gift through Christ. The new tune may best bridge the gap between God and today’s contemporary seeker.

Whether you sing it in your mind the old way or the new, may its message connect. God sent his son to live unerringly. To love unconditionally. To die sacrificially . To be buried temporarily. To rise triumphantly. To come again eventually.

What a glorious gift of unmerited grace to all who claimed it that one day!

Favor With God

Background Passages: Luke 1:26-38; James 4:6; John 3:16

The young woman bent low in the knees and ducked through the doorway of her father’s home a tall jar of water upon her shoulder. As she turned to place the vessel on the table she stared in fear at the angel standing near the fireplace.

“Greetings, you who are highly favored. The Lord is with you.”

As the jar of water crashed to the floor, Mary back away toward the door in fear and confusion. Quickly, the angel spoke, his voice comforting and concerned, “Do not be afraid. Mary, you have found favor with God.”

As the angel laid out God’s plan for Mary’s life, I cannot fathom the whirlwind of emotions she experienced. Her world turned upside down.

Through God’s great gift of Christmas, the final piece of creation’s puzzle fell in place, planned before time…perfected through the life, death and resurrection to come. Mary heard the words of the angel and struggled to understand the heady revelation that she, an ordinary young woman from an inconsequential village in Galilee, would be the vessel through whom God chose to present himself to the world.

As profound as those words might have been, had I been Mary, I might have wrestled as much with the beginning of the angel’s message…

“You have found favor with God.”

In the world’s language, to show favoritism is to show exceptional kindness to someone, especially in comparison to the treatment of others. Preferential treatment. In the first century, people believed that wealth, health and blessing were signs of God’s favor upon you. That you had done something to earn his favor.

Consider Mary’s life following the angel’s announcement. It hardly speaks to preferential treatment. Her life spun out of control almost immediately.

Joseph had every right to disown her and discredit her publicly. Though he embraced a similar angelic message, others would be less understanding. A few months later, she faced an arduous and uncomfortable journey to Bethlehem in her last trimester. Upon their arrival, the only place available to them was an unholy stable among the animals. She gave birth far from family and friends who might celebrate with her.

A short time later, she fled to a foreign land ahead of a king’s murderous soldiers who were intent upon killing her son. She later watched in dread as her son’s message of God’s forgiveness was met with scorn and hatred by the religious leaders of the day. She heard a bloodthirsty crowd call for his crucifixion. She watched from a distance and felt the echo of each hammer driving nails through the hands and feet of her beloved son. She wept at his feet as blood and life drained from his body.

If she thought at all of the angel’s announcement as she stood near the cross, I doubt she felt favored. This was hardly a life of preferential treatment. What, then, did it mean for Mary to find favor with God?

Nothing in scripture indicates that God’s favor falls upon people simply for their own enjoyment. We find those on whom God’s favor rests given great responsibility so the lives of others may be changed. So God might be glorified. Moses. Abraham. Job. These were men who found God’s favor. Nothing about their lives was easy. All carried the burden of life heavily on their shoulders.

You see, I often thought God chose Mary because of something uniquely righteous within her. That her faith was deeper and her life purer than any other…by extension, deeper and purer than my own life. Seeing Mary in those terms diminishes God’s work of grace. In many ways it cheapens the miracle of Christmas.

Bible scholars tell us that the word in Luke 1:30 which most Bible’s translate as “favor” is the same Greek word from which we get our word for “grace.”

“Mary, you have found God’s grace.”

Mary wasn’t chosen to be the mother of Jesus because her goodness outshone any other. Rather, God extended an offer of grace to Mary to be used by God for something which carried enormous responsibility. The angel’s declaration came, not because she deserved it. It came as a gift. Undeserved. Unmerited.

Mary could have rejected God’s offer. She could have said, “Not me. Find someone else.” Yet, she considered all the angel said and declared, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

With those words, Mary, as a young teenage girl, accepted God’s grace gift and all that it would entail without fully understanding the implications for her own life.

James 4:6 proclaims that “God opposes the proud, but shows favor (grace) to the humble.” It is this thought I had not considered in the Christmas story. That Mary found favor with God had little to do with her goodness and everything to do with her humble spirit. Her desire to be open to the possibilities God presented to her. That idea has implications for my life I had not considered.

I stand today a recipient of God’s favor, his unmerited grace. The offer to accept Jesus Christ as savior came through the conviction of the Holy Spirit, not because I deserved it, but as a gift undeserved. It came as an offer I could have refused. Yet, I considered all the spirit said to me and said in essence, “I am your servant.” With those words, as a nine-year-old boy, I accepted God’s grace gift and all it would entail without fully understanding the implications for my own life.

For any of us to embrace God’s gift of his son, there comes a point when we must humble ourselves before him, recognizing that it is not our goodness that merits his favor. It is through his unfailing love for us that his grace flows.

For those of us who have placed our faith and trust in Jesus, Christmas is a joyous reminder that God so loved the world that he sent his only son to be to be his grace gift to the world.

Mary humbly embraced the role God asked her to play and bore the burden of responsibility it carried with it. Like Mary, in response to God’s grace, may we, in all humility, be open to the possibilities God presents to us.

New Morning, New Mercies

Background Passage: Lamentations 3:1-25

You’ve seen them in magazines at the grocery store checkout line. Heard them listed in television newscasts. It’s that time when we look back upon the preceding 12 months and remember the major news events of the year. Depending on the organization creating the list, you’ll find celebrity marriages and deaths, natural disasters and human tragedies highlighting the lists.

The Associated Press ranked the following among its top 10 world news events this year:

• U.S. Election
• Brexit
• Black Lives Matter
• Worldwide Terror Events
• Attacks on Police
• Democratic Party Email Leaks
• Syrian Civil War
• Supreme Court Vacancy
• Hillary Clinton’s Emails

The thread of turmoil runs within all of these news stories. It’s difficult to determine whether the upheaval these events caused will eventually bring about something good. So, we look with promise of a new year to settle things down again, hoping that any negative consequences of these events do not touch us or our families.

But what about your personal year in review? If you had to list the top news events in your life for 2016, what would they be? Here’s my list (in chronological order).

• Our 40th wedding anniversary
• Retirement from full-time work
• An uncle’s stroke
• A cruise with friends in the Baltic
• Signing with a new book publisher
• Teaching part-time at the university
• Father diagnosed with cancer
• Death of several friends
• Birth of Amelia, our 2nd granddaughter
• Mother-in-law’s stroke

When I thought about this list, the first events I recalled were the bad news events…the diagnoses and the deaths. That’s human nature I suppose. It’s comforting to know that our days are filled with moments of joy amid the personal turmoil created by some life events. Yet, in those times when trouble falls like rain from a thunderstorm, life feels oppressive and overwhelming.

The writer of Lamentations in the Old Testament probably felt much the same way. The crushing nature of life events left him mourning for the nation of Israel and crying out on behalf of the people who faced the consequences of their own rebellion against God. He counted himself among them. Chapter 3 reads like a “Top 10” list of the devastating physical and emotional conditions in which the writer found himself…

• “…I am a man of affliction…”
• “…driven me away…”
• “…besieged and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship…”
• “…dwell in darkness…”
• “…weighed me down in chains…”
• “…made me a target…”
• “…pierced my heart…”
• “…became the laughingstock…”
• “…deprived of peace…”
• “…mocked me in song…”

Yet, the writer of Lamentations refused to abide in the circumstances. Refused to let life events control his spiritual condition. The crux of his faith centers on a confession he makes in Lamentations 3:21-23.

“Yet 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 him, ‘The Lord is my portion. Therefore, I will wait for him.”

As we must deal at times with events of life that suck the breath from our lungs and threatened to stop our hearts from beating, we must understand what this writer knows. Though the issues bubble never far from our thoughts, we still have hope. How is this possible?

God loves us. Pure and simply. His compassion and mercy flows always in abundance and prevents us from being eaten up or overwhelmed by that which we face. He proved it so in the past and continues to this day. His love never fails. Never.

Here’s the part that I really like. His mercies, his compassions, come new every morning. Fresh. Sustaining. We don’t have to rely on grace remembered that came once and never comes again. The dawn of each new day brings with it God’s abiding and unfailing love. Each day. Every day. God’s faithfulness is sufficient for our needs. So, as the writer declares, “I will wait for him” to carry me through the day…I will rest my hope in him.

Our ability to wait for him is built upon our history with God. Our knowledge of God and who he is strengthens our faith in difficult and uncertain times. For when we know what kind of God it is we trust…one whose mercies arise new each morning…we can remove the baffling and troubling aspects of life from our shoulders and place them instead in his hands.

This is my challenge to you. Reflect upon your year and remember that God’s love never fails. His compassions arise new every morning. Despite the difficulties you’ve experienced and those that are sure to come in 2017, let God be your portion. Wait for him.

May you enjoy a blessed new year.