obedience – Dr. Kirk Lewis

Decisions, Decisions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m drawn back to the beginning.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

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

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

Check Your Plumb Line

Background Passages: Amos 7:7-9; Isaiah 28:16-17; Matthew 5:1-12

I have a vague recollection of my Dad building some kind of shed near the barn on our farm. The extent of my help on the project was dragging a 2 x 4 from a nearby pile, handing him a few nails, and picking up the hammer he dropped.

What I do have a memory of is watching him determine that the walls were absolutely vertical by using a plumb line.

A builder might use a plumb line as an alternative to a level to find a straight vertical line. In simplest form, a plumb line consists of a piece of string with a weight called a bob at the bottom.

When you hang the line downward, the weight, with an assist from gravity, pulls the string taut and creates a straight, vertical line. Measure your wall against that line and, if it’s equal top to bottom, your wall is plumb.

We know the ancient Egyptians used plumb lines thousands of years ago. I suspect they were used by others long before the Egyptians.

The prophet Amos, a sheepherder and farmer of figs from Tekoa, would have known how to use a plumb line. It’s natural that God would use a plumb line to reveal an important truth to his prophet.

Amos told the people of Israel that they were headed in the wrong direction. He said they “sold the righteous for silver and the poor a pair of sandals.” (Amos 2:6)

God was pronouncing judgment against Israel for its continued rebelliousness as they failed to live up to his standards and had failed to repent and return to God.

Twice as God declared his intent to punish his people, Amos begged him to relent. God then spoke to Amos a third time.

This is what he showed me. The Lord was standing by a wall that had been built true to plumb, with a plumb line in his hand. And the Lord asked me, “What do you see, Amos?”

“A plumb line,” I replied.

Then the Lord replied, “I am setting a plumb line against my people Israel. I will spare them no longer. The high places of Isaac will be destroyed, and the sanctuaries of Israel will be ruined. With my sword I will rise against the house of Jeroboam.” (Amos 7:7-9)

It’s not my intent to talk about the prophecies of Amos and how God followed through on his punishment. This passage intrigued me in what it says about God’s plumb line.

“I am setting a plumb line against my people Israel.”

I think it serves as a great reminder for us to make sure we measure up to God’s standard.

Rodney Johnson, pastor of New Light Christian Church in Kansas City, called God’s plumb line the standard by which God measures our faithfulness; our righteousness.

He said, “The kinds of instruments we use to measure our life will often determine what we uncover and how we face life in general.

“When we begin to examine our plumb lines, if they are faulty – based on the world’s standard of right and wrong – our assessments of where we are will be faulty. When our assessments are off – when they are different from God’s assessments – we cannot course correct to mirror our plumb lines to God’s.”

Years ago, I built a four-foot brick wall to shield my pool equipment from the pool. I used a plumb line. It only took a few rows of bricks to see that something was off. When I looked closer, the bob at the end of the plumb line was just barely resting on the ground. I was basing the uprightness of my wall on a faulty plumb line.

I think this is what Johnson was talking about. We too often measure our righteousness, our uprightness, if you will, by a faulty standard…parental expectations, cultural morality, friendships, legal requirements. In every one of those situations, the plumb bob is touching the ground, skewing the standard. Until and unless we use God’s plumb line, we will never measure up.

So, what’s the plumb line? What’s the standard?

In his prophetic message, Isaiah gave us a hint.

So this is what the Sovereign Lord says:

“See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; one that relies on it will never be stricken with panic.” (Isaiah 28:16)

“A tested stone,” one already measured against God’s plumb line, will become the “cornerstone for a sure foundation,” level and plumb. Isaiah is talking about the coming Messiah…Jesus Christ.

You see, if we’re trying to live by God’s standard, his plumb line, then we have to be able to see it. God revealed his plumb line through Jesus and through his word. To see Jesus as he lived, to hear God’s word as he preached and taught, to be able now to listen to the voice of God through the words of the Bible…that’s the plumb line against which our lives are measured.

Isaiah continues with the illustration.

I will make justice the measuring line and righteousness the plumb line…” (Isaiah 28:17)

Righteousness can be defined as “living in right relationship with God” or living “upright and obedient lives.” Letting our words and our deeds measure up to God’s plumb or standard.

It is a theme that runs throughout the New Testament. Paul told the Ephesians, “Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave himself up for us… (Ephesians 5:1-2)

We live up to God’s standard when we imitate the life of Christ and walk in love for one another.

John’s first letter declares the same. “This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.” (I John 2:6)

The life of Jesus, his faithful obedience, his servant’s heart, make him the perfect plumb line against which we can test our own lives. We should strive to be like him.

“To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (I Peter 2:21)

Clearly Jesus is the standard for even Peter asks us to emulate Jesus as our perfect example of how to live our lives.

Jesus is not the only way God tests us against his plumb line. He uses his word to assess how well we are following his commands.

Look at 2 Timothy 3:16-17. It says,

“All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.”

It is his word that tells us how we are to live our lives as his hands and feet in ministry.

You don’t need to read a lot of scripture to find this truth. It is there, at the turn of every page, a guide to tell us how to live, how to be measured against God’s standard and not found to be out of plumb.

It sounds so easy. Walk in Jesus’ footsteps. Live in his image. Read the Bible. One of my favorite authors explained this in his book God’s Mirror Image:

“To live in the image of God seems to be such a deep theological concept. Yet, the promise of Jesus resonates in its simplicity. “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.”

Once we get past the wonder of Emmanuel, “God with us,” and embrace the character and teachings of Christ, we can see exactly how we are to exist as God’s reflected image in the world. We mirror the image of God by imitating the character of Christ.”

What is the character of Christ? Look no further than the Beatitudes in Matthew 5. Look at this passage and then think about the life of Christ. He modeled every character trait described in those verses in his daily walk.

Every instance of Jesus’ life and ministry on earth recorded in the Bible is a blueprint on how we should live our lives. It’s up to us to live as he lived.

Here’s my thought. God has a plumb line and his message to Israel long ago and to us today is that he uses it as his standard to measure our faithfulness, our obedience and our righteousness.

God knows his will for us, where he wants us to be and how we should get there. The standard modeled in the life of Jesus and reflected in God’s word tells him if we’re in plumb. If not, his plumb line shows us how far we must go to get back on track.

When I read that passage this week, I had to think about that plumb line in my life. I had to make sure the plumb line I was using was not something other than the life of Jesus and God’s word.

If I’m honest, my plumb bob has been dragging the ground a bit and the what I’m trying to build of my life has been a little off vertical.

Let me go back to what the Rev. Johnson wrote. “When we begin to examine our plumb lines, if they are faulty – based on the world’s standard of right and wrong – our assessments of where we are will be faulty. When our assessments are off – when they are different from God’s assessments – we cannot course correct to mirror our plumb lines to God’s.”

I discovered I need a course correction. I need to make sure God’s plumb line is unobstructed, free to show me where I don’t measure up to his standard. In those areas of my life where I am off, I need to get back into proper alignment with his will and way for my life. That’s my commitment this week.

How about you? When’s the last time you checked the plumb line in your life? How well do you measure up to God’s standard?

It feels like a question all of us should ask every day.

Another Great Question

Background Passages: Luke 6:46-49; Romans 7:15-24

Some of the best teachers I ever had were those who challenged me with probing questions designed to pique my curiosity. It was a method championed by the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates. When teachers ask questions rather than simply provide information, they encourage students to dig more deeply and actively explore their own beliefs.

As good as Socrates might have been, Jesus, I think, used questions masterfully in his teaching to help his disciples see past the letter of the law into the heart of God. His questions almost always opened their eyes to a new way of understanding God’s purpose and plan.

In my last blog, I looked at a question Jesus asked his listeners. “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” After looking into that challenge, I began to look for other questions Jesus asked. I found one in Luke 6 that intrigued me.

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

For years, one of my favorite shows on television was NCIS, starring Mark Harmon as Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the leader of a group of federal agents investigating crimes involving U. S. Navy personnel. When one of the agents under his command failed to grasp a key bit of information, Gibbs would often slap them on the back of the head as if to say, “Think!”

That’s what this scripture was to me this week…a slap on the back of my head. Why do I proclaim Jesus as my Lord and still do or not do what I know God’s word teaches me to do? It is a maddening tendency I expect I share with many other Christians.

It’s not a problem unique to me or to this time in history. You can hear the similar frustration in Paul’s words to the church in Rome.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do…For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do…this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is the sin living in me that does it.” (Romans 7:15, 18-20)

It makes the question Jesus asked even more poignant. “Why do you call me “Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

Let’s set the context of Jesus’ question.

Throughout Luke 6, the gospel writer shares a series of teachings of Jesus. If you read through the chapter, you’ll find Jesus talking about the blessings that come from following him and the woes that befall those who go their own way. Luke relays to us Jesus’ thoughts on loving our enemies, turning the other cheek, giving them the shirt off your back and gives a taste of the Golden Rule, “Do to others what you would have them do to you.”

The questions continue to probe our hearts when Jesus asks, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” and “If you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that.” “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

Luke continues with Jesus’ teaching on our desire to judge others. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged…Forgive and you will be forgiven…For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” In his message, Jesus warns us to remove the plank from our eyes before we complain about the speck in the eyes of another.

Finally, Luke shares a small parable from Jesus about a tree and its fruit, reminding us that “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” (Luke 6:43-45)

After all of those words where Jesus calls us to a different way of life, Luke says Jesus asked our question of the day. “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

Given our proclivity toward sin, it may be best to come to grips with what it means to call Jesus “Lord?”

When we use the term “lord” today, it is typically a verb, not a noun. Someone who abuses their power and authority is said to “lord it over” those who serve under them. It’s a negative connotation.

“Lord” becomes a noun in the Christian context. It is the person to whom we have surrendered our lives, submitted our will to the will of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Substitute “master” or “boss” if it is an easier concept to understand. One possessing absolute authority, power and control. It is a way of recognizing Jesus’ divine and holy position. Head of the church. Ruler of all creation. Lord of lords and King of kings.

When we make our faith commitment to Jesus as our Savior and Lord, we are turning our lives over to him. Surrendering complete control of our lives to his will and way. Submitting to his teaching and truth in all aspects of life. That means doing things, living life, his way…not my way.

When Jesus makes this statement, he is addressing those who have made that decision to put their trust in him. His followers. He’s not talking about the charlatans who pretend to be one of his disciples. He’s talking to those who made a genuine commitment to him but are struggling with living up to the standard he sets for us. He’s talking to me, and I suspect, he’s talking to you.

See what he says after asking his question?

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say? As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them in practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent stuck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck it collapsed and its destruction was complete.” (Luke 6:46-49)

Jesus drew upon his experience as a carpenter and stone mason to drive home a point. In what has become a beloved children’s Bible story, we find a great truth for all ages. When we decide to place our trust in Jesus, it is the biggest and greatest decision we will ever make. Making that decision is just the first step in making Jesus Lord of our lives.

We must build upon that commitment by becoming Christ-like. Growing in our obedience to his teachings. Building upon the truth he taught. Not just hearing his words but putting them into practice every day.

Why do we call him Lord and still do what we want to do?

Because it’s not easy. The foolish builder in Jesus’ parable, didn’t want to put in the work required to dig into the rock. He was short-sighted. It was easier and much less trouble to build in the sand. It may be easier to keep living the way we’re living before Christ became our Lord, but it brings disaster upon us. It may be difficult to do things Jesus’ way, to be obedient in all things, but that brings unparalleled security in the face of life’s flashfloods.

Theologian William Barclay said, “In every decision in life there is a short view and a long view. Happy is the man who never barters future good for present pleasure. Happy is the man who sees things not in the light of the moment, but in the light of eternity.”

It’s far easier to say the right words than to live them out every day. Yet, that is exactly what we are called to do. So, it takes us back to what Jesus talked about before this remarkable question. We must love those who don’t love us back. Do good for those who do us harm. Put aside our judgmental attitudes. Forgive those who wrong us. Be merciful. In general, treat others as we would want them to treat us.

It’s not enough to give lip service to our faith. Every day must be a concerted, if occasionally flawed, effort to live as Jesus lived.

Here’s the good news. The grace of God does not require us to be perfect. His love and his mercy trump my inability to live as I should each day. His grace gives me another chance to rebuild the shattered walls on a firmer foundation of faith.

After Paul expressed his frustrations with his own inability to do what he knows he should, he praised God for his deliverance.

“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God who delivers me through Jesus Christ, my Lord.” (Romans 7:24-25)

That pretty much sums it up for me. I don’t want to be one of those Jesus followers who never moves past that initial faith commitment. I want to be one of those hears his word and tries with all my heart and soul to put those words into practice.

Jesus’ question is a great one. “Why do you call me “Lord, Lord” and do not do what I say?”

What answer would you give today?

That’s a Good Question

Background Passages: Matthew 16:23-27

Though many kings and conquerors held such lofty ambitions, no one ever came close to ruling the whole world. A quick journey through history reveals a host of men who gave it their best shot. Sargon of Akkad. Julius Caesar, Cyrus the Great. Genghis Kahn. They and many others held stated goals of ruling the known world.

Alexander the Great of Macedonia carried similar ambitions and came close to seeing it through. Despite conquering most of the known world and gaining vast wealth and tremendous power, Alexander finally recognized the folly and hubris in his effort. Nearing the end of his life, he said, “When my casket is being carried to the grave, leave my hands hanging outside. For empty-handed, I came into this world and empty handed, I shall go! My whole life has been a hallow waste, a futile exercise, for no one at death can take anything with them!”

When I read that quote this week, I was reminded of two rhetorical questions Jesus asked his disciples as he neared the end of his earthly ministry.

“For what profit is it to a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul? What can anyone give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26)

It is an intriguing question that made me wonder why Jesus posed it to his closest followers. When something piques my interest, I’m usually curious enough to keep digging.

Jesus kept a frenetic pace while ministering to the multitudes in Galilee. Crowds of people followed him around seeking his teaching and his touch. Shortly after Jesus fed the 5,000, he took his closest disciples north to Caesarea Philippi.

Though the Bible doesn’t tell us why, the region around Caesarea Philippi was more sparsely populated. Jesus was now weeks away from the cross. Many biblical scholars speculate Jesus left the crowds behind in order to spend quiet and quality time with his disciples. He needed them to understand what was going to happen over the course of the next few weeks. He needed them to be ready for his death and to know what was expected of them.

In one quiet moment in Caesarea Philippi, surrounded by the temples to the various pagan gods, Jesus asked his disciples what the people were saying about him. They told him some people were calling him John the Baptist. Others thought him to be Elijah, Jeremiah or some other prophet of God.

“Who do you say that I am?” he asked his disciples. In typical fashion, Peter blurted out an answer for all of them,

“You are the Christ! The Messiah!”

The affirmation Peter spoke had to be both gratifying and troubling to Jesus. Gratifying, in that the disciples understood at some level of faith who Jesus was. Troubling, in that they didn’t fully understand what that meant.

As they began the journey toward Galilee and on to Jerusalem, Jesus began to teach them that he would suffer at the hands of the religious leaders…that he would be killed and would rise from the dead on the third day.

Peter took exception to what he considered morbid and fatalistic teaching. Pulling Jesus aside, scripture says that Peter “rebuked” him, saying essentially, “Stop talking like this. You’re frightening the others. This will never happen to you. Not on my watch! You are destined to rule.”

Jesus’ words to Peter cut to the quick, stunning the disciple to silence.

“Get behind me, Satan. You are a stumbling block to me. You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” (Matthew 16:23)

The terse exchange between Jesus and Peter opened the door to deeper teaching about God’s priorities. Read the words of Christ.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but loses his very soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person for what he has done.” (Matthew 16:24-27)

Peter’s concerns about Jesus’ impending death were human concerns. It seems his understanding of Messiah, though tilted toward the miraculous power of Jesus’ teaching and miracles, most closely aligned with that of the rest of Israel as they looked to the Messiah to free them from the yoke of Roman oppression.

Peter had his mind and heart set on human things.

The question Jesus posed moves beyond rhetorical when we look into our own hearts. Are there concerns in our lives that take precedence over the things of God? Is our pursuit of those things putting us in danger of losing our very soul?

Let’s get the easy part out of the way. I believe God wants the very best for every one of his children. There is nothing wrong with gaining wealth, fame, success and power if those things are God’s plan for your life, if you’ve acknowledged that those blessings come only from God’s good grace and you use the blessings to meet the needs of others. However, to seek to tuck God in the corner of your life while you pursue earthly things runs counter to God’s will for his people. Jesus said doing so, will cost you.

The price for pursuing human concerns is our soul. Those who reject the call of Christ and chase after the things of this world, will face eternal condemnation as a result of their choice. Even if they rise to rule the world, the cost, says Jesus, is too high.

Believers who make that sincere, initial faith commitment then get bogged down in the things of the world, may not lose their eternal soul, but their lives will never experience the deep contentment, inner joy and peace God promises through our faith and trust in Jesus Christ. Their souls, their lives, are wasted potential in pursuit of things that ultimately don’t matter. The light God called them to be is hidden under a bushel of ambitions never fully realized.

Solomon, God’s anointed king of Israel, denied himself nothing, seeking greater pleasure and greater wealth. When he realized what it cost him in relationship to his God, he said in Proverbs 1 that everything he gained is “meaningless,” “vanity,” a “chasing after the wind.”

Solomon knew that by chasing after earthly blessings as the primary motive of our lives outside the will of God we compromise the very being of our souls. The fruit of our spirit rots on the vine. We inevitably lack the love, compassion, peace, gentleness, patience and self-control. Those things come our way only when we abide in Christ.

When Jesus responded to Peter’s rebuke, he outlined succinctly the cost of discipleship. This is the hard part of his statement. Simple in its concept. Difficult in its execution.

Pick up your cross and follow.

Give up your life for his sake.

Let go of your hold on the world.

We are called to die to the life we think we deserve and yield our lives to Jesus as boss of our lives. To surrender our will to the will of God. To go where he sends us. To make a difference in the lives of others in the place he sends us and the time he allots us.

When you really think about what Jesus said, he’s simply asking us to do what he did for us. No more. No less. The Rev. Charles Hoffacker put it this way. “This request shatters the life of every Christian like a rock thrown through glass. Echoing Peter’s refusal, we don’t want a suffering Messiah, one who calls us to no better place than his own, a cross with our name on it…The formation of Christian character over time then shows itself decisively. Jesus offers us a cross with insistence and we take hold of it, guided more by faith than fear.”

To be a disciple, a learner and follower of Christ, I must take up my cross and follow Jesus. It is a call to self-sacrifice. Absolute surrender to God. To die to self, as Paul declared, and live for Christ. Christ modeled the life we are called to live. You and I are called to live Christ-like lives. To follow in those remarkable footsteps. To love the lost as much as he did. To care for one another as much as he did. To mirror his compassion. To live faithfully even in the most demanding times. To declare as he did in the garden, “not my will, but yours be done.”

Given how much I struggle to pick up my cross, Jesus asked a really good question.

“What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but loses his soul?”

To those of us who know what he desires for us, the question begs an answer, doesn’t it?

Pushing the Right Buttons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s read what he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Look again at verse 25.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seems to be a good prayer for today.

Amen!

Why Mary? Why Joseph?

Background Passages: Luke 1; Matthew 1:18-24; 2 Timothy 1:9-10a; Galatians 4:4-5

Because I grew up in church, the Christmas story is a familiar one. It never ceases to amaze me how the story never grows stale or repetitive when I let God speak through his word. After Thanksgiving, my study and thoughts turned to Christmas. When I read again the familiar story, I thought “Why Bethlehem?”

God used Bethlehem to remind me that he can use the most insignificant among us to point the world to Jesus. He used Bethlehem to remind me that I cannot be caught sleeping and miss the opportunity to see God at work through Christ. To be Christ at work.

I read the passage in Luke again this week. A new thought jumped out at me. God could have chosen anyone to give birth to his son. Why Mary? He could have chosen any man to step in as Jesus’ earthly father. Why Joseph?

While I’ll never presume to fully understand the mind of God, think with me.

The birth of Jesus Christ was not a plan thrown together at the last minute when God suddenly realized his people had abandoned him. While the primordial ooze was still solidifying throughout his universe, the omniscient Creator set in motion a plan to redeem his creation, destined by his gift of free will to go its own way. The baby in a manger, who would be the savior on a cross, was always the centerpiece of that pre-existent plan.

Paul proclaimed it in his second letter to his protégé Timothy.

He has saved us and called us to a holy life, not because of anything we have done, but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our savior, Christ Jesus… (2 Timothy 1:9-10a)

God knew when to hatch his plan. He knew he had to wait until just enough of the world was ready to listen with open hearts and minds; ready to receive the gift he would send at that perfect moment in time to redeem those who recognized what he was doing through Jesus Christ.

When the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. (Galatians 4:4-5)

I can almost see the Creator staring into the future in search of the woman who would bear the part of himself that would become the salvation of the world. There must have been thousands upon thousands of suitable women to consider as the mother of God’s son.

One might expect his eyes to fall on a woman like Elizabeth with impeccable credentials from a line of ancestors descending from one of Israel’s patriarchs. A woman married to a prominent rabbi, a man of wealth and influence. Scripture tells us Elizabeth was “righteous in the sight of God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and requirements of the Lord.” (Luke 1:6) He didn’t choose Elizabeth…or anyone like her for that matter.

Instead, his scrutiny extended beyond the time of the law and prophets, into the time of the Roman occupation until it settled on Mary, Elizabeth’s cousin, a young woman without prominence…from a town with no consequence…in a country of little significance.

So, why Mary?

Certainly, the plan had been laid out for centuries as Paul tells us in Galatians. God pegged her from the beginning. To let us know who he had chosen, God’s prophecies described her in detail. The mother of the Messiah would be a virgin living in Nazareth with a reason to give birth in Bethlehem. She would be descended from David and married to someone from the same Davidic line.

Mary checked off all the boxes laid out in scripture for the mother of Christ, but Luke tells us the real reason she was chosen. When God scanned the future and his eyes settled on Mary, she simply found “favor with God.” The prophecies stood only as the backstory he created to validate his choice.

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God.” (Luke 1:26-30)

Did you hear it? Did you hear the reason? Before the world began, the Creator’s all-knowing eyes and heart scanned the future and he saw Mary and he liked what he saw in her. He favored her. The Greek word for favor found in these verses is charin. It can also mean favored for this cause, for a purpose.

When God saw Mary, he saw her as someone he could call to serve for the specific purpose he had in mind. He chose to extend his favor to Mary by being with her. (The Lord is with you.) Making his presence known. Standing with her throughout the difficult life to which he called her as the mother of God’s son.

Why Mary? What did God see in her that made him want to extend his favor to her. I think you find it in her response after hearing the news shared by the angel. After the angel told her of her Holy Spirit induced pregnancy and that the child born would be the Son of God, the Messiah, and that his kingdom would know no end, Mary’s response revealed her heart.

After the initial shock wore off and with the soothing reassurance offered by the angel, hear the obedience and trust in her response.

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” (Luke 1:38)

The Creator God who sees the end from the beginning chose Mary long before the prophecies were uttered because of the depth of her faith and her willing heart. She was the right woman in the right place at the right time with enough faith to be open to God’s call…willing to let him be at work in her life.

Hang on to that thought. We’ll come back to Mary in a moment. Now, consider this.

Why Joseph?

When God first found Mary in his search through the future of humanity, he found her pledged to be married to Joseph. Like Mary, Joseph held no position of power or wealth. He lived an ordinary life, devoid of the prestige one would expect as the father of the Messiah.

Watch how he responds to Mary’s unexpected news.

Mary tried to explain the unexplainable when she shared the shocking news of her pregnancy with Joseph. When he could not imagine the unimaginable, Joseph could have subjected her to public disgrace and even had her stoned to death. However, he never seemed to seriously consider those options.

A righteous and honorable man, Joseph instead decided to handle things privately. Desiring to avoid making Mary an option of ridicule, humiliation and gossip, he chose a quiet divorce.

In Joseph’s private intentions, spoken only in his heart before his head hit his pillow that night, God saw in this simple carpenter the strength of character and unmeasured grace he needed in the one he would choose to be the earthly father of the Son of God. God saw in Joseph a man of compassion, humility, faithfulness and mercy. Characteristics Jesus would see modeled by his earthly father as he grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man. (Luke 2:52)

While scripture doesn’t say it this way, I think Joseph found favor with God…just as Mary did…just as Jesus would someday experience. That’s why God sent his angel to ease Joseph’s mind.

But after he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins”…When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary as his wife. (Matthew 1:20-21, 24)

I hope you see the same obedience, faith and willing heart that I see in Joseph when he woke up the next morning. He no longer doubted Mary’s experience. He heard the same words of comfort she heard, telling him to have no fear of what the future holds. No second-guessing God’s purpose. No second-guessing God’s plan. He just willingly accepted in faith and obedience the role God asked him to play.

So, we look at this couple and ask why?

Why Mary?

Why Joseph?

Mary and Joseph go down in history as simple, ordinary, everyday people through whom God chose to do an extraordinary thing. He chose them because he saw something in them that let him know they were strong enough to handle the difficult role of being the parents of his only son. They had the choice to say yes or no to the call. He chose them because they made themselves available to the will of God in their lives. Willingly and without reservation.

He did the same for all of us. Before time began, he looked into the 21st century and identified me and you and set aside the work he wanted us to do.

We aren’t called to raise the Messiah from the cradle to the cross, but we are called to raise him up through the power of the testimony of what he has done in our lives. To do the things he has called us to do with the same faith, obedience and willing heart demonstrated and modeled by Mary and Joseph.

So, the question is less about why Mary or why Joseph? Here’s the question that matters.

Why you?

Why me?

Whatever he’s called us to do, it was important enough for God to set it before us. Let’s be faithful in the doing. Willingly and without reservation.

Finding Peace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, how do we live in Christ Jesus?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All I have spoken while still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not be afraid.” (John 14:26-27)

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

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

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

Shalom.

Fan or Follower?

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-24; Luke 5:1-11; Matthew 4:18-22 and Luke 16:25-26

It’s baseball playoff season. I think I’m finally over the baseball strike of 1994-95 and find myself watching the games again with interest. I know. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.

It’s also the middle of the college football season and I love to watch college football.

I am a fan of the Houston Astros. I enjoy watching their games and I might even do a fist pump when they win. I rarely lose sleep if they blow the game in the ninth inning. I’m a fan of the Houston Astros.

I am a follower of the Texas Tech Red Raiders. I wear the shirt. I watch the games. I celebrate when they win. I will toss a pillow and lose hours of sleep with every defeat. During the week, I’ll check out a few Red Raider websites to get a perspective on last week’s game. I’ll read about the players and coaches. I’ll fret over next week’s game. Cut me and I’m pretty sure I bleed scarlet and black. I am a follower of Texas Tech.

Jesus talked a little about being a fan or being a follower.

Jesus and his disciples left the region of Caesarea Philippi after a brief retreat north of the Sea of Galilee. The deep discussion elicited a confession from Peter who declared the understanding of his heart.

While looking at the throng of people milling about that pagan city, Jesus asked those with him what the people were saying about him after almost three years of ministry.

The disciples shared a few names as if the rumors were laughable.

“Some say John the Baptist. Others say Elijah. Still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” (Matthew 16:13-14)

Then, Jesus asked the question he really wanted to ask.

“But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

While the others stared blankly at the ground, Peter declared with strength of conviction,

“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:16)

With that confession, Jesus gathered his disciples and began the journey back to Galilee, but the dialogue didn’t get easier. The teaching grew more intense as Jesus began to talk more plainly about his death on the cross.

Peter didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. ‘Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!’

“Jesus turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.’

“Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:22-24)

It was those last two words that caught my attention this week. “Follow me.”

My church has been in a six-week long Bible study about discipleship. While family matters have kept me from attending every session, I have kept up with the study.

I underlined these words in the study guide. “Following Jesus is a serious, weighty calling. Taking up our cross means putting to death our desires and goals and following Jesus wherever he leads. Christians are supposed to look increasingly like Jesus.”

When Jesus told his disciples to take up the cross and follow him, it wasn’t the first time they had heard the call to follow.

At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus spent the early morning talking with a crowd that followed him down the coast of the Sea of Galilee. He came across a group of fishermen cleaning their nets after an unsuccessful night on the water where the fish were nowhere to be found.

Jesus climbed into Peter and Andrew’s boat and asked them to push off a few feet from shore so the water would add its acoustic effect to his voice.

“When he finished speaking, Jesus said to Peter, ‘Put into deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ Peter answered, ‘Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But, because you say so, I will let down the nets.

“When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. …When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, ‘Go away from me, Lord, I am a sinful man!’ For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.”

Then, combining this passage with what we read in Matthew 5, Jesus said to Peter, Andrew, James and John, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of me.” (Luke 5:1-11 and Matthew 4:18-22)

There’s the phrase again, “Follow me.”

He said the same words to Matthew when he called him from the tax collector’s booth. To Phillip when he pulled him from a crowd. He said the same words to a rich, young ruler after he told him to rid himself of all the material things that stood between him and Jesus. “Follow me.”

I suspect they were words he extended in every conversation shared and every invitation given. “Follow me.”

What is behind this idea of following Jesus?

The Greek word akoloutheo gets translated in most versions of the Bible as follow, but it has a broader range of meanings. It can mean accompany, assist, pursue or attend. So, if the word can also mean assist or pursue, for instance, Jesus was not calling people to simply tag along. He called for personal engagement.

Akoloutheo is written in present tense meaning the action is in the here and now and its voice is active. So, when Jesus calls his people to follow, he means they are to do so in every moment of life. It is something they are to do. They can’t send someone to do it for them.

Jesus didn’t want his disciples to just listen and believe in him from a distance. He invited them to draw near, to join him, join and commit to the mission. Jesus wanted his disciples to be fully engaged with him in both learning and doing the work of God.

From the beginning of their call to the critical times near the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry, Jesus asked them to follow.

Think about what that meant for those first disciples. From the moment they began their journey with Jesus he taught and trained them. He sent them to preach as he preached. He asked them to serve those with great need. He prepared them to continue his work after his ministry was completed. He expected them to spread the gospel throughout the world.

Jesus is still inviting you and me to be his disciples. His followers. To personally join him, learn from him, and help him in gospel ministry. There is nothing passive about being a follower of Christ.

Timothy Keller founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, put it this way, “Jesus says, ‘I want you to follow me so fully, intently, so enduringly that all other attachments in your life look weak by comparison.’”

We can’t be a disciple or difference maker until we are willing to deny ourselves…to set aside the life that matters to us and pick up the life that matters to God. To put God on the throne and make him Lord of our life. To make Christlike living our passion.

We can’t be a disciple or difference maker until we are willing to take up our cross. We tend to trivialize Jesus’ death on the cross if we think this term means simply facing stoically the difficulties of life that all experience, whether a follower of Christ or not.

It speaks to the complete obedience and devotion to the cause of Christ, no matter where it leads. To yield our hearts fully to his. After asking them to take up the cross and follow, Jesus spoke to the eternal value one gains by following him.

“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Luke 16:25-26)

Jesus tells them that nothing in this life is worth keeping if it means missing out on eternity. So, when we deny ourselves and take up our cross all that’s left is to invest our lives completely into the kingdom of God. To follow.

New Testament theologian Scot McKnight put it this. way, “Those who aren’t following Jesus aren’t his followers. It’s that simple. Followers follow, and those who don’t follow aren’t followers. To follow Jesus means to follow Jesus into a society where justice rules, where love shapes everything. To follow Jesus means to take up his dream and work for it.”

I’m a fan of the Houston Astros. I’m a follower of the Texas Tech Red Raiders. But, there is more at stake than my athletic affiliations.

If I’m a fan of Jesus Christ, I might profess my faith in comfortable settings. I might toss a few dollars into the offering plate when it’s passed. I might even listen to a sermon or two. If I’m a fan of Christ, however, I am rarely personally invested in the work, sacrificing little time and energy for the cause of Christ.

If I am a follower of Christ, I cannot just passively believe in him. Being a follower is all about digging deeply into his teachings. Understanding how Jesus reacted to different situations in life. It is all about imitating him, his example and his works. It is all about being Christlike. It’s all about being a difference maker.

When you get right down to it, the question Jesus asked his disciples in Caesarea Philippi may have been as basic as that.

Will you be a fan or a follower?

It’s a decent question for us to answer.

Beware the Slippery Slope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s In Your Hand?

Background Passages Exodus 4:1-5; Romans 12:6-8; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The bedouin stood on calloused, bare feet with his sandals in his hand, trembling in the glow of the burning bush. Seeing its light. Feeling its heat. Listening to the voice from its flame.

The 80-year-old shepherd heard these words and more…

“I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…I’ve heard the cries of my people…I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

Moses hid in the desert for 40 years after an unceremonious exit from Egypt. Face to face with the oppression of the people of his birth, he reacted in the heat of the moment, killing the offending Egyptian. Once the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter. Now a old man, tending sheep that didn’t even belong to him. O, how the mighty had fallen.

God spoke to Moses on the slopes of Mount Horeb from a burning bush that was not consumed. The God of his fathers called him to a mission of eternal importance. It was the next phase of God’s redemptive plan. To make it happen, he needed to get his people out of Egypt and back to the land he had promised them. He needed Moses.

This unbelievable experience in the wilderness should have lifted his spirits and emboldened Moses to act. Instead, the miracle on the mountain left him filled with anxiety, offering one excuse after another.

“Who am I? I am no one. Pharaoh will not listen. I know the man.”

God said, “Go!”

“To the Hebrew people, I’m nothing. When they ask who sent me…and they will ask…what do I tell them”

“Tell them I am who I am! Now, go!”

“They’re not going to believe this…not the Hebrew people and certainly not Pharaoh.”

God chose this moment to ask Moses a critical question.

“What is in your hand, Moses?”

Moses looked at his right hand. Fingers wrapped around the thick shepherd’s staff, worn smooth by years of use. His mind raced. This was the tool of his trade. A staff for protection. A staff for balance. A staff for herding. Just a stick.

I wonder at that moment if Moses saw a flash of something more ominous in the staff he held. He was once a prince of Egypt. Perhaps, in that moment, the staff served as a symbol of all that had gone wrong in his life. The perfect manifestation of his failure. He had traded a scepter for a shepherd’s crook so he could herd a flock of sheep that weren’t even his. As he heard God ask his question, “What is in your hand?” Perhaps Moses felt unworthy, certain that God could choose a better man.

Moses swallowed the lump in his throat and said simply…

“A staff.”

Nothing more. Nothing less. An old tree branch whittled and shaped to serve his needs. God knew it could represent something new and different. He just needed Moses to see it, too.

“Throw it on the ground, Moses.”

Moses let it drop. As it bounced on the rocky soil, the staff transformed into a snake. Startled, he took two steps back and stared.

“Now, pick it up.”

As soon as Moses lifted the snake from the ground, it turned back into a staff.

Moses looked in awe at the bush.

“This,” said the Lord, “is so that they may believe that the Lord, the God of their fathers…the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has appeared to you.”

What is in your hand?

What a great question!

I wonder how many of us have starred at the burning bush and heard the voice of God telling us, “I’ve got something I need you to do for me. It’s important. I need you to go….”

I wonder how often you have done what I’ve done and responded immediately with every excuse in the book to avoid doing what God needs us to do. My excuses sound remarkably similar to the ones Moses muttered into the face of a burning bush.

Who am I that you would ask this of me?

I’m not capable.
I’ve made too many mistakes.
I am no longer the man I once was.
I’m too old.
No one would listen to me.
They’re just going to laugh in my face.
Find someone else…please.

How like Moses I am at times. Too comfortable in my place. Too embarrassed of my failures. Too willing to believe my mistakes trump my potential. Too unwilling to open myself to God’s transformative power.

Then, the question comes to me just as it came to Moses.

“What’s in your hand?”

When you get down to it, that’s an intriguing question. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s a question we’ve all heard at some point in our lives. When God asks the question, it deserves an honest look.

Scripture is filled with stories of individuals who possessed no extraordinary gifts. That which they held in their hands was ordinary. Yet, God called. When they quit making excuses, God began to use them. Consider these examples.

Gideon defeated the Midianites with trumpets and lanterns.
Samson slaughtered the Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.
David took down Goliath with a sling and a stone.
A child with a small basket of bread and fish fed a multitude.

So I ask again, the burning bush question.

What is in your hand?

One of the greatest mistakes we make as believers in Christ is to underestimate who we are and what we have. We hold an old whittled stick…an ability to carry a tune, the skill to bake a cake, the temperament for a kind word, the sensitivity to encourage a troubled soul. Yet, we deem it insufficient, weak, small in comparison to abilities we see in others.

Then, the excuses flow. Maybe, it doesn’t matter as much exactly what is in our hand. Maybe all that really matters is, as one writer said, “how much God is in your stick.”

And, there’s the lesson Moses learned. As long as you hold on to your stick, God can’t demonstrate his power. You’ve got to throw it down. Let it go. Surrender it to God. Once God is in it, his power flows through it.

Then, your ability to carry a tune inspires. Your skill in baking brings comfort. Your kind word changes another person’s outlook on the day. Your encouragement lifts a burden from a neighbor’s shoulders. There is nothing insufficient, weak or small about that.

Whatever is in your hands, when surrendered to God, gets infused with his power that makes a difference. And, people will see what is in your hand and know that God is present in your life.

So, what is in your hand?

The truth is, I can’t tell you. It is a matter between you and God. But, know this. There is something there. God has put something in your hand. It may look ordinary to you, but it was given to you for a purpose. He has gifted all of us, placed something in our hand, to use toward the glory of his kingdom.

Whatever God has placed in our hands we are to use it. Paul wrote about it extensively.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith. If it is serving, then serve. If it is teaching, then teach. If it is to encourage, then give encouragement. If it is in giving, then give generously. If it is to lead, do it diligently. If it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8)

I don’t know what your gift may be, but it does no one any good if you never use it. Each of us has been gifted by God so he can send us wherever he needs us to go. To do what he needs us to do. When we surrender that gift to God, when we throw it down, God’s power is alive through us.

Whatever your hand finds to do; do it with all your might. (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

An unknown poet penned a bit of prose a few years ago entitled, “It Depends Whose Hands It’s In.” It’s not Shakespeare or Byron, but it holds a pretty good message. This is how it starts off.

“A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it’s in.”

As one who has missed his share of lay-ups, I ask you…

What is in your hand?