Tag: ministry

A Little Mustard; A Little Leaven

Background Passages: Matthew 13:31-33; Romans 10:14-15 and James 2:15,17

We all love a good story. Great storytellers connect with us on a personal and emotional level, finding ways to engage, influence, teach and inspire all who really listen. While storytelling is both art and science, some folks are naturally gifted storytellers. Others learned the craft over time.

As I’ve studied the Bible over the years, I find myself wishing I could go back in time to walk down the road with Jesus or sit on a rock around his campfire as he was sharing a truth to everyone within earshot. Jesus rarely lectured. To get his point across, he told stories. The Bible calls these stories parables.

If you’ve read enough scripture, you know Jesus was a master storyteller. I also suspect that Jesus’ parables recorded in scripture are probably Cliff Notes versions of the real conversations, edited to the quotable parts that we might actually hear. Listening to Jesus spin his tales would be an experience unlike any other.

Drawing upon images from everyday life, he shared truths about God’s heart and about kingdom living. While we can’t hear him speak, reading his stories in the Bible is the next best thing.

The 13th Chapter of Matthew is filled with story after story that Jesus used to teach about God’s kingdom. Verse 3 says, “Then he told them many things in parables…” And, he did… especially in this chapter.

The parable of the sower and the seed. The parable of the weeds. The parable of the hidden treasure and the pearls. The parable of the net. You’ll also find the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven bread. Two quick parables in three short verses.

Take a look.

And he told them another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.

He told them still another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.” (Matthew 13:31-33)

Now, had I been that fly on the deck of Jesus’ rowboat that day, I might have asked, “Jesus, would you care to elaborate? What are you getting at?” If anyone asked, scripture doesn’t tell us. So, we have to think…just as Jesus intended.

To be clear, the mustard seed is not really the smallest seed used in Jesus’ day, but it was proverbial in the first century for “smallness,” a convenient and recognizable example for something tiny or small.

The mustard seed was a garden herb common in regional cuisine of the first century. It does grow into a tree-like bush sometimes as high as 12 feet. Because of its tree-like structure, it would have not been uncommon to see birds resting, nesting and feasting on the little black seeds.

Jesus followed his tale of the mustard seed with another familiar picture drawn from everyday life. Bread was the staple of life in the first century. Leaven is nothing more than fermented dough kept over from a previous baking of bread.

Bread without leaven, unleavened bread, always baked flat, dense and hard. Leaven served the same purpose as yeast does today. Mixing leaven into fresh dough made the bread soft, porous, spongy and delicious. (I can smell it baking, can’t you?)

What truth is Jesus conveying when he used this imagery as he taught?

It could not have been easy for the disciples to watch great crowds gather around Jesus and have the majority of them walk away unaffected and unchanged by Jesus’ words. Earlier in Matthew’s gospel, they asked Jesus, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?” It’s as if they were saying, “Why do you tell these stories? Just tell them how the cow ate the cabbage.”

Jesus, in essence, told his disciples that the hearts of the people had grown calloused to the point of not hearing anything remotely resembling a sermon.

By virtue of being Jewish, they were God’s chosen after all. They could not and would not understand the unvarnished truth about the changing nature of God’s kingdom. Jesus told his disciples that he spoke in parables because “…they hardly hear with their ears and they have closed their eyes.” (Matthew 13:15)

At the end of other parables, Jesus sometimes says, “He who has ears, let him hear.” In other words, Jesus is saying, if you’re paying attention and if you’ll think about it seriously and how it fits into your life, you’ll see what I’m trying to tell you with this story.

In these verses, the picture Jesus paints with his stories is about the stunning and exponential growth of God’s kingdom.

Now, it might be helpful here to define “God’s kingdom.” When you and I declared Christ as Lord and have gave him control of our lives, we entered the kingdom of God. A group of believers who trust him as savior and live each day in the “righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17) It is the community of faith allowing God, through Christ, to govern the way we live.

These two parables run parallel teaching about the stunning growth of God’s kingdom. when the tiny mustard seed becomes a large tree and the lump of leaven permeates the whole dough.

Think about how it all started. Jesus and a handful of disciples working throughout Galilee and Judea, taking a message of repentance and hope to all they encountered as they lived out their lives. Each step along the way, the kingdom grew as more and more people believed in and trusted Jesus.

After Jesus’ ministry, the New Testament church began in the upper room in Jerusalem with about 100 followers, none of whom were great religious scholars. Fishermen. Tax collectors. Zealots. Poor. Uneducated. Frightened. A bunch of nobodies who found themselves with the one person who was the glue holding them together.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit and over the span of 2,000 years, the kingdom of God has grown beyond expectation. From this mustard seed, this lump of leaven, the gospel of Christ has spread throughout the world. In doing so, it has become a place of spiritual food and rest for the birds in its branches and a transforming power in the world’s lump of dough.

Yet, there is a reason why these parables still speak to us today. It’s the same reason Jesus told them in the first place.

We live in a world today in which the hearts of people have grown calloused. By virtue of living in a “Christian country,” we assume some favored status in God’s kingdom. We’ve become some hard-hearted in our culture that we “hardly hear with our ears and we have closed our eyes” to his truth.

Recent statistics show that the number of non-churched, unchurched and de-churched people is growing at about 10 percent each decade. In other words, the population non-believers, believers who have never plugged into a church after committing their lives to Christ increases a bit each year.

The number of those believers who left the church because they were hurt by someone or something within the church keeps growing as the church itself is shrinking. It is an alarming trend.

That phenomenon becomes more and more evident over the past 50 years. We could easily list the reasons behind the decline, but that’s not really the point here. I think the only reason that matters is that the church quit consistently reaching out in ministry and love.

We open our doors, very willing to love and help all who enter our doors, but we rarely do as Jesus did and go out to meet them where they live. To ministry in the neighborhoods.

In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, he told them how to become a part of the kingdom of God.

If you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved…Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:9, 13)

Then, Paul issues the challenge that reverberates from the 1st century to the 21st.

How then, can they call on the name of the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one in whom they have not heard? And how they can hear without someone preaching to them? And. how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” (Romans 10:14-15)

Author Cecil Northcott once told of an international evangelical convention he attended to discuss how the gospel might be spread. The people in attendance talked about the distribution of literature, large scale revivals and other means available in the early 20th century. Then, one girl from Africa spoke.

“When we want to take Christianity into one of our villages” she said, “we don’t send them books. We send a Christian family to live in the village and they make the village Christian by living there.”

That’s how it’s supposed to work, I think. We can’t wait for the lost and the hurting to come to us first, though some do. We most often must go to them.  We must be there ready to love and care for them. We can’t ignore their existence or fail to meet their needs.

“Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well. Keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” James 2:15-17)

If we fail to be the church outside the walls, we will soon become the empty church within the walls.

As we recently visited many churches throughout Eastern Europe, it was profoundly sad to see these churches become little more than museums of time gone by. How different would it be if they were more mission and less museum?

As more and more people become disillusioned and de-churched, I fear our own churches throughout America will become these cold museums, relics of a time in history.

Jesus told his parables to connect with people. His stories used the ordinary to teach extraordinary spiritual truths. He didn’t print them up and hit them over the head with a tract. He told his stories. Made connections. Built relationships. Met needs. Then, he loved them into the God’s kingdom.

You and I and all who profess a faith in Christ, have a story to tell. It is the good news of Christ…his free gift of grace available to all. It is also the love expressed by God’s people as we go out into our respective communities on mission to love and serve.

I think that’s the challenge of these marvelous parables. God’s desire is for the world to be saved and for his kingdom to grow. Be the mustard seed. The only way for that to happen is for his people to be the leaven that causes it to rise.

———

I’ll beg your indulgence and forgiveness for this personal note.

I am a member of South Main Baptist Church. We’ve been blessed for almost seven decades with wonderful pastors and a service approach to ministry and missions. I’ve been blessed by the preaching of our new pastor, the worship through singing and praise, the great Bible teaching and the opportunities to serve.

Our people recently adopted a new mission statement. It promises that our church is in an ongoing mission to be “engaging and equipping others to experience and share God’s transforming love.”

The desire is to keep stepping outside the physical confines of the church to build relationships with our community and encouraging others to join us as we grow together in the work of Christ. Our desire is for the kingdom of God to increase as more and more people discover God’s grace and love.

Toward that end, we will be gathering at 5:30 p.m., Wednesday, May 31, at Pasadena’s Crenshaw Park Softball Fields for “First Pitch”–a little kick ball, a bunch of free hot dogs, family games and an open invitation to let us get to know you.

For the better part of four decades, South Main has made two promises to those who come to us. “We promise to love you and let you love us” as we serve our Lord together.

We’re not perfect, but we strive to be more Christ-like every day. If you’re longing to find a church where you can serve and be served, drop by for a visit. We’d love to get to know you and let you get to know us.

Hope to see you there.

We’d Best Get On With It

Background Passages: Luke 9:28-36, 2 Peter I:16-19; Matthew 28:18-20

I am a J. R. R. Tolkien fan. Unabashed.

Since first introduced to The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy over 40 years ago, I’ve read and re-read those books several times. The movies, the first of which was released in 2001, remain among my favorite movies.

Tolkien, a Christian from England, embedded biblical imagery throughout his books. In the Lord of the Rings, a hobbit named Frodo is chosen to destroy a certain ring that gives evil its power by casting it into the fires of Mordor. At one point stop along the way, Frodo believes he delivered the ring into more capable hands and can now go back home to his quiet shire.

It was not to be. Gandalf tells Frodo, “We have reached Rivendell, but the ring is not yet at rest.” Despite his desire to return to home and safety, Frodo realizes it is his responsibility to finish what he started.

As he struggles with that decision, Frodo’s best friend and companion on the journey, sums up the situation. He says, “I’ve never heard of a better land than this. It’s like being at home and on holiday at the same time, if you understand me. I don’t want to leave. All the same, I’m beginning to feel if we’ve got to go on, then we’d best get on with it.”

Sam and Frodo both realized as comfortable and glorious as it was, Rivendell was not their final destination.

Jesus must have felt something akin to that as he stood on the mountaintop during his transfiguration. As comfortable and glorious as it must have been to talk with Moses and Elijah, Jesus knew the ring was not at rest. There was still so much more to do. The most difficult part lay ahead. This glimpse of heaven was not the final destination.

It was certainly a message Peter and James and John needed to see and hear.

Jesus and his disciples retreated to Caesarea Philippi where Jesus could escape the crowds and teach them about the critical nature of his mission without interruption. The conversation about Jesus’ identity culminated with Peter’s declaration that Jesus was the anointed Messiah, the Son of God. Jesus used that confession to begin teaching about the suffering and death that lay ahead of him.

Peter especially didn’t like the implications of that which Jesus shared. Mark’s gospel tells us he pulled Jesus aside and “rebuked” him. Peter had the temerity to tell Jesus to quit talking like that. Despite his confession and all that Jesus shared with them, Peter and the others still failed to grasp exactly who Jesus was.

I have to think that conversation weighed heavily on Jesus’ mind as they journeyed back into Galilee. When he reached a certain point, Jesus left most of his disciples at the foot of a mountain. The Bible tells us what happened next.

“…he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.

“Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ (He did not know what he was saying.)

“While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘this is my son, whom I have chosen: listen to him. When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept this to themselves and told no one at that time what they had seen.” (Luke 9:28-36)

I’m not sure any of us truly know exactly what happened to Jesus during the transfiguration. By definition, he was changed. It’s not that bright spotlight from heaven lit him up like a rock star on stage. Jesus’ transformation came from within. One commentary said Jesus’ divine nature “broke through the limits of his humanity.” The light of glory shone from within causing the radiance appearance of his clothes. Don’t you love that interpretation?

I don’t know that Jesus needed the transfiguration to finish his task. The conversation surely meant something to him, however. From his words in Gethsemane, we know the human side of Jesus dreaded the suffering to come. I’ve read this passage many times, but this is the only time I realized what Moses and Elijah came to say. Did you see the topic of their conversation?

“They spoke to Jesus about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment in Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:31)

With his eyes fixed on the cross to come, Moses and Elijah came to encourage and urge Jesus to finish what he started. To keep moving forward to the purpose for which he was sent. To stay on the mountain as life passed by below would condemn the world to ruin. I suspect even Jesus needed to feel the encouragement of others.

It seems the real reason for the transfiguration had its roots in the conversation at Caesarea Philippi. It’s one thing to proclaim Jesus as Lord. It’s altogether a different thing to understand it…to have it transform your thinking and change your life.

When Jesus asked the disciples, “But you? Who do you say I am?” They recognized him for who he was, but still wanted to fit him into a familiar box…to have him behave as they needed him to behave within the social and political turmoil of the day.

“You are the Christ,” Peter declared while visions of victory parades danced in his head. “You are the Christ,” declared James and John while they held out hope for ruling seats of power within his kingdom.

So what did the transfiguration mean to these disciples?

Perhaps the things Jesus tried to explain to them since Caesarea Philippi took an emotional toll on the disciples. By the time they reached the top of the mountain, they grew weary. While Jesus went off to pray, his disciples took a nap.

When the transfiguration occurred, they were awakened by the sight of Jesus shining like a bolt of lightning, blinding in his radiance. I suspect I would have been a lot like Peter in that moment…a man not fully understanding what he had just seen and heard, but knowing it was significant.

Riveted in awe and wonder, he reacted with unbridled enthusiasm. Compared to the wonder of what they experienced the world below was just too harsh. The future Jesus shared…too unsettling.

Leave it to Peter to try to memorialize the moment. “Let’s set up a tabernacle for each of you. We don’t want to leave this place. Let’s stay right here.”

As those words escaped his mouth, a mist enveloped them. They trembled in fear. God’s voice cut through the cloud…a command that was also a plea.

“This is my son whom I have chosen. Listen to him.”

Hear God telling these critically important disciples, “You’ve seen who he is. You know it in your heart. You’ve said as much. Change your frame of reference about the Messiah. He is my Son. He’s telling you how it must be. For once in your life, listen to him…really listen.”

There on the mountaintop, God reminded those disciples, the ring is not at rest. The end game must play out before the world can be set right.

At the transfiguration, this inner circle of disciples who struggled to fully grasp who Jesus was, caught a glimpse of his heavenly glory. Jesus underwent a dramatic change in appearance so the disciples could see just a fraction of his heavenly glory.

Up to that point, the disciples knew him only by his human touch, the sound of his voice and the power of his miracles. Now, they came to a greater realization of the deity of Christ. God offered desperately needed reassurance in the form of a blinding light.

Even then, they didn’t always get it right. After the resurrection, however, that moment on the mountain made perfect sense. That’s why Peter could write with such certainty as one transformed by the transfiguration experience.

“We did not follow cleverly invented stories we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty… We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. (2 Peter 1:16-18)

So, the transfiguration reinforced in Jesus the purpose for which he had been sent into the world. It gave his disciples a chance to see beyond the human Jesus to the divine. To start listening, to pay attention to what Jesus was telling them about who he was and what he had to do.

What does the transfiguration mean to you and me?

It’s just as easy today to build a box in which to keep Jesus. He’s the genie I call on when I want something. He’s my excuse for taking a certain political stand. He is the author of pithy sayings that I quote to express my piety. We still too often make the mistake of failing to understand what his death on the cross and resurrection from the tomb means in a 21st century world.

We describe those times we have grown closest to Christ as our “mountaintop experiences.” We bask in the warmth of that feeling. Take a few selfies. Build a few tents and say, “I just want to stay here where it’s amazing and safe.”

That’s not our role any more than it was the disciples’ role. We follow a Christ who puts us in unbelieving world to be its transfiguring light, blazing bright enough from within so the world can see him in us.

The Christian church as a whole has stayed too long on the mountaintop. Stayed within the fellowship of believers. Celebrating the majesty of God and building our share of tents…all with a slightly distorted view of who he is. With this world struggling as it is, now is not the time to marvel. Jesus’ work through us is not finished. Maybe it’s time we “Listen to him.”

At the end of his earthly presence, Jesus commissioned those of us who now clearly understood who he is and what he did.

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you, always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28: 18-20)

I’m probably reading too much into Tolkien’s writings. I think he understood that God’s work in us is not yet finished. “The ring is not yet at rest.”

Read Tolkien’s words again. “I’ve never heard of a better land than this. It’s like being at home and on holiday at the same time, if you understand me. I don’t want to leave. All the same, I’m beginning to feel if we’ve got to go on, then we’d best get it on with it.”

Get on with it. Not with a sense of reluctance, but with the excitement born from a transfiguring and transforming experience with God’s son.

There is work to be done. We’d best get on with it.

Let Us Not Give Up Meeting

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-19; I Peter 2:4-8; Hebrews 11:24-25

Jesus slipped to the grass from the flat rock upon which he sat as he spent the last hour in prayer. The canopy of trees under which he now reclined with his back against the rock sheltered him from the late afternoon sun. Jesus glanced at his disciples gathered in a loose cluster about 40 feet further down the hill. As they finished their prayers one by one, they talked quietly among themselves, breaking out a small loaf of bread and passing it around, satisfying their hunger.

Jesus looked from his disciples down into the town of Caesarea Philippi, a bustling city 30 miles north of the region of Galilee. He watched the frenetic pace of the people as they finished the work of the day and headed home. He lifted his eyes toward the sheer cliff on the north side of the city. It rose 150 feet above the lush, green valley below. He knew the stream gushing from the massive grotto on the western edge of the cliff were the headwaters of the Jordan River as it flowed south to the Sea of Galilee.

The cavern was said to be the birthplace of Pan, the Greek god of nature. Worshippers still brought their offerings of fruit and grain, laying them at the altar.

His vision shifted to the gleaming temple of white marble which Philip, the region’s ruler, dedicated to Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor whom the people considered a god. Before these temples and altars were built, Jesus knew his history well enough to know the whole area stood as a center dedicated to the worship of Baal, the ancient Canaanite god.

It was a deeply reflective moment. Jesus contemplated the scene spread across the valley below. Considered all he had done during his ministry. Felt his gut tighten when he thought about the cross to come. Had anything he said and done made a difference? Before he began his final journey to the cross Jesus needed to know. Did anyone really know who he was?

He turned to his disciples quietly talking and laughing in the ease of friendships forged by common experiences. His words cut through the comfortable conversation. “Who do the crowds say I am?” They turned toward Jesus in a rustle of robes and shuffling feet. They were used to his probing. Knew an answer was required. “John the Baptist,” one blurted. “One of the old prophets brought back to life,” announced another. “Elijah,” another proclaimed.

Jesus glanced again at the city below, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turned back to his disciples. “But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

Jesus held his breath, looking into the eyes of each of his closest friends. Their answers would make all the difference. Would he see blank stares of incomprehension? Would he catch so much as a spark of understanding that meant he had at least lit a torch in their hearts? He waited. Felt his heart thump anxiously in his chest.

How his soul must have soared when Peter stood among them, looked at his friends, then to Jesus, knowing that he answered for all of them. “You are the Messiah. The Anointed One of God.”

I wrote the above narrative almost three years ago. It is a favorite episode of mine from the life of Jesus. At the time I wrote it, I used it to talk about what that kind of faith commitment means. I was reminded of that devotional last week for a different reason when I read the following headline that popped up on my news feed.

“U.S. Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time”

A stunning statement, but not surprising. We’ve all seen the evidence.

The Gallup Poll provides interesting fodder for sociologists and students of American culture. Of the many things it has surveyed over the past 80 years, Gallup annually measures religious affiliations and church membership.

Gallup reported this year that Americans’ memberships in houses of worship dropped below 50 percent for the first time since the data was collected. In 2020, 47 percent of Americans said they belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque, a drop of 23 percent over the last 20 years.

At the same time, Gallup also showed that the United States remains “religious.” More than 70 percent of all Americans affiliate with some type of faith tradition.

So, the question begs to be answered. If 70 percent of us claim to be religious, why are less than half of us a member of a local congregation? Why is it that almost every church has a membership role that far exceeds its regular attendance? What does it mean for the church in the days to come?

I think the answers to those questions go back to that hillside in Caesarea Phillipi. After Peter made that astounding declaration of faith and Jesus breathed his sigh of relief, he turned to Peter with an amazing statement of his own.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

Jesus declared to Peter that because of his profession of faith he would be the rock upon which his church would be built. Baptist pastor Michael Stark said, “Our Lord was saying to Peter that he was the beginning of the new Israel, the new people of the Lord, the new fellowship of those believing on His Name. Peter was the first to both understand who Jesus was and to declare openly that truth.”

Peter is spoken of as the rock of the church in the sense that he was the first person to fully comprehend who Jesus was. While the Catholic church elevates Peter to a high status within the church, Peter himself never felt that way. He spoke often of being a “fellow worker” and a “bond slave.”

Don’t take that passage out of context. The rest of scripture declares that it is not just Peter who must be the rock of his church, but all of us. In his one of his own letters to the early church Peter wrote,

“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (I Peter 2:4-8)

Do you hear what he said?

“You, yourselves, like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house…”

You and I, as believers in Christ, are the building blocks of God’s church.

Practically, we know that every building needs a solid foundation and quality materials. God laid a foundation of reconciliation to a sinful world. Jesus’ life and ministry, his work on the cross and his resurrection served as the faith cornerstone of the church.

In light of the Gallup report, how effective can that church be if we remove our stone from its walls?

I don’t know why so many are choosing to leave the organized church. Perhaps, the church has grown too tolerant in some cases; too intolerant in others; too self-righteous to some; and far too political in its extreme.

What I do know is that the cause of Christ is damaged every time one of us says, “I have had enough.”

We are a sinful and imperfect people…both inside and outside the church. When I use that as my measure, viewing the church only as a body of hypocrites, it’s easy to walk away.

I see those in the church as very much like me. Filled with fault. Trying their best to live according to God’s purpose. That’s when I find I most need the church. That’s when I find the church most needs me.

The headline made me think. Why do I stay involved when others choose a different path?

The Bible calls us to corporate worship and good work. We congregate so we can love and be loved. We congregate in order to serve others as Jesus served. In a world that easily rejects everything it means to live for Christ, I need the encouragement of fellow believers to keep from giving in or giving up. I find that encouragement in the gathering of the church.

The writer of Hebrews said it plainly:

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another. (Hebrews 11:24-25)

To be sure, there are many believers of genuine faith who no longer belong to a specific congregation for a variety of reasons. They have given up their habit of meeting together. I don’t question that their faith is real and meaningful. However, I know what I receive by being active and involved in a local congregation. Therefore, I know what they are missing.

As a part of the church, I am loved. With all my faults and mistakes, as a part of the church I am accepted. As a part of the church, I have a place I can serve using the gifts God has given me. As a part of the church, I am taught the things of God. As a part of the church, I know I am where God expects me to be.

We’ve all been hurt by someone in the church at some point in our lives. We’ve all been disappointed and let down. By the same token, we have hurt and disappointed our share of people, I’m sure. Regardless, of how deeply that hurt runs, we cannot abandon the place where God calls us to serve wherever that may be.

You see, my church became the church to me because I became a part of it and, in doing so, it became a part of me…if that makes sense.

To all those believers who have walked away from the for whatever reason, the God needs you now in his church more than ever. Find a place where you can be encouraged. Find a place where you can love and let them love you. Find a place where you can serve God with all the gifts he gave you.

Let us not give up meeting together. Let us keep investing ourselves in his work, participating in his ministry. Now is not the time to walk away. Become a part of a church somewhere that needs your presence and in doing so, let it become a part of you.

From Mourning to Ministry

Background Passage: Matthew 14:9-23

No physical pain eclipses the pain of losing a close friend or family member. The grief of personal loss hurts. Shatters our sense of normalcy. Threatens our emotional stability. Chokes the very breath from our souls.

Grief might be tempered by the circumstances of our loss. When a loved one has faced months of pain from an insidious disease, for instance, the believer feels a sense of comfort and release knowing that a mother, a sister or friend is no longer suffering. That realization may lessen the gravity weighing on a sad heart, but it does little to fill the emptiness one feels.

Grief is a process as anyone who has lived it knows. Our reactions to it as individual as our own unique personalities.

In their respected book, On Death and Dying, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler plotted five stages of grief that all must travel. People express themselves in various ways, passing through the stages in different ways or times because our relationship to the one who died was unique to us. The authors suggest we must go through each stage if we are to recover from the sorrow that engulfs us with the loss of someone special.

Kubler-Ross and Kessler define the stages of grief: Denial…a time of shock and emotional paralysis where we tend to avoid our new reality; Anger…a time when all the emotions we bottled up for a time get released; Bargaining…when we look for alternatives to fill the void within us; Depression…when reality weighs us down; and acceptance…finding our way forward into a new normal.

I know two families this week going through the death of a family member. Having walked in their shoes in my own family, forever uncertain what to say, I found myself scanning the scripture for words that might grant all of us a foothold of understanding on the slippery slope of sorrow.

Well-meaning folks like me will offer these families platitudes in the coming days based on our personal experiences. The intent will be appreciated. The care and concern evident.  But the words will most likely fall on a heart too troubled to hear.

Many passages of scripture tells us about God’s comfort during times of despair. There is beauty and value in those verses. As we seek to live in the image of God and if Jesus represents the image of God on earth, then what did Jesus know of our sorrow?

I suspect there were a thousand of unrecorded occasions when Jesus put his arm around a crying widow, offered a prayer for a brother in mourning, took a meal to a neighbor who lost a sister, prayed for a family whose mother died peacefully in her sleep, or stood quietly beside a parent whose child was ravaged by disease when no word would bring comfort. Scripture also tells us Jesus felt the grief resulting from the death of someone for whom he cared deeply.

His experiences with grief were personal, not second hand, full of the emotional trauma death brings. Late in his earthly ministry, his good friend Lazarus died. Though Jesus knew the outcome of this experience would be new life, scripture tells us he wept. His anguish over the loss of someone he loved so real and heart-wrenching.

Yet, another profound encounter with death touched Jesus at the beginning of his ministry. Not too long after Jesus gathered his disciples together and taught them things they needed to know about the kingdom of God, he sent them out, two-by-two, on a mission trip to preach the good news of God’s coming salvation.

At the same time, Herod, the Judean tetrarch, arrested John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin and early partner in ministry. The Baptist ran afoul of the regional governor when he challenged Herod’s divorce and marriage to his sister-in-law. While John was in prison, Herod, intrigued by his step-daughter, promised her anything she wished. After talking to her conniving mother, the step-daughter asked for John the Baptist’s head on a platter. Herod did not disappoint and ordered John beheaded.

News of this horrific death reached Jesus just as the disciples were returning from their trip. The news was unsettling. Jesus and John, connected by circumstance of birth and passion of ministry, held deep respect for each other.

Jesus once told the crowds who followed him that “among those born of women there is none greater than John,” revealing his level of affection and respect for the tough-minded preacher. Jesus’ love was returned many times over. John stood waist deep in the Jordan when Jesus presented himself to be baptized at the starting point of his earthly ministry. Knowing who he was and the nature of his work, John hesitated. “I’m not worthy to tie your sandals,” he said.

When Jesus heard the news about his cousin, Matthew 14 tells us , “he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place.” Saddened. Distraught. Struggling with both the loss and the method of his death. Seeing in John’s death, perhaps, a reflection of his own future.

As he so often did when troubled with life, Jesus needed to feel the presence of his heavenly father. In the middle of the excitement of the missionary reports, he moved away from the crowd to find a quiet place to be alone in his thoughts, to deal with his emotions and his grief.

Yet, the crowd would not let him go. Maybe they were unaware of John’s death. Maybe they didn’t understand the connection between the men as cousins. Maybe they were so caught up in their own struggles they couldn’t see into the hurting heart of another person. Whatever possessed them to come, a large crowd circled around the Sea of Galilee to wait as Jesus’ boat came ashore.

Many of us can empathize with Jesus. He needs his time alone…his space to deal with his own breaking heart. Life will not allow it. Jesus had a choice, to look inward or outward. We face the same choice in times like this. We can turn inside ourselves, skirt the crowd and run into the desert alone. Or we can look outside ourselves to the people pressing around us and extend God’s mercy to them.

Matthew tells us Jesus saw the crowd and had “compassion on them.” What an amazing picture this presents! A grieving Christ sees the gathering crowd. When most of us would turned the boat around, Jesus dried his tear-stained cheeks with the sleeve of his cloak, said a new prayer for emotional strength, took in a deep breath and went about his work healing the sick, comforting the sorrowful and feeding the famished.

He spent the rest of the day with them, eventually feeding them with a little bread and fish before sending them on their way. A picture settles in my thoughts. The last family finally turned to leave. Jesus, who set aside his own sorrow for that time, waited until they were out of sight before sagging heavily on a boulder, allowing the emotion pent inside to flow freely.

Scripture says at some point he gathered himself, climbed the wilderness mountain as he had intended to do earlier that day and sought refuge in a father who understood clearly the heaviness of his heart.

So, what does this tell me about grief?  My faith pales in comparison to the faith of Jesus. How hard it is to carry on when all we want to be is carried away. This biblical episode in the life of Jesus tells us life never stops for the grieving. Never slows down. Never considers our emotional state. Life goes on.

The daze of days surrounding the loss of a loved one blow by with little regard to what we want or need. In the days that follow death there will be bills to pay. Places to go where no one knows our anguish. Children tugging at our sleeve who need us to be in the moment with them. Co-workers expecting us to be on our game. Work still to be done. Our ability to find the peace we need, the solitude we crave, gets overshadowed by the press of the crowd around us.

We can push the crowd away or do as Jesus did when he pulled the boat to shore…embrace for a moment the opportunity God puts in front of us to serve him. To testify through our last reserve of faith and strength to the power of the father who gives us the ability to put one foot in front of the other and move when all we want to do is turn the boat around.

I don’t want to minimize the difficulty of walking our grief walk. It is healthy to grieve. Healthy to find time alone to consider the meaning of this personal loss. Healthy to weep.

As Jesus sailed the boat across the Sea of Galilee that day, I suspect the horizon lay unseen in the distance obscured by the tears in his eyes. His vision limited to the prow of the boat as he stared blankly into a tomorrow without his dear friend. That’s the way I feel on days like that.

However deeply Jesus mourned John’s death, he didn’t stay in the boat. He turned grief into the fuel that fired his own sense of mercy and ministry. You see, all the hurt and pain we experience at the death of one we love can empower us to love more deeply, embrace more often and to serve more willingly.

These two friends of mine who mourn this week the loss of a brother and sister, respectively, will be in Collique, Peru, next week on a mission trip. They join others in building small homes for families who possess next to nothing. Despite their personal sorrow, they will step out of their boats on the shore of a dusty hill in South America to share the compassion of Christ to strangers unaware of the grief they bear. What a testimony!

In our most desperate times, our dependence on Jesus Christ serves as dynamic evidence of the power of God’s sustaining love to a lost world with little on which to cling in life’s toughest times.

Grieve because you must.  Mourn for lost love ones. Cherish the memories of love that runs deeply. But, along the way, may our emotions turn ever outward to spirit-inspired, Gospel-driven, compassion.