spiritual growth – Dr. Kirk Lewis

Less of Me

Background Passages: John 15:1-3; Matthew 28:18-20; Galatians 5:22-23

Auxano.

Until the past month, this was not a familiar word to me. Greek in its etymology, Auxano means “to grow” or “to increase.” You’ll find the word scattered in verses throughout the New Testament.

When Paul used the word in Ephesians 4:15 or when Peter used “auxano” in I Peter 2:2 and 2 Peter 3:18, it speaks to how Christians are to grow or mature in the faith.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:15)

“Like newborn babies crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.” (I Peter 2:2)

“But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 3:18)

Couple those concepts with how Luke used the word when he shared the results of the Holy Spirit’s work in the days after Pentecost in Acts 6:7.

“So the word of God spread. the number of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly, and a large number of priests became obedient to the faith.”

Auxano, then, speaks to our ability as God’s people to grow in our faith, to live as followers or disciples of Christ, so that we, in turn, can bring more people to Christ and help them grow as disciples.

I first heard the word used this month as our new pastor introduced a Wednesday night initiative we call “Auxano,” designed to build disciples of Christ…to grow deeper in our understanding of what it means to be his disciple and to equip us, then, to share our faith in a relational way with those who do not yet know God’s saving grace.

For me, it’s gut check time. What does being a disciple of Christ mean to me and how well am I fulfilling the promise I made to him when I made my profession of faith as a nine-year-old? I have to admit, my growth as a disciple has been punctuated by a few seasons of drought amid the life-giving rain.

Zach Williams wrote and sings a song on Christian radio these days called Less Like Me. The chorus, I think, points to the goal of discipleship. the lyrics read,

“A little more like mercy, a little more like grace.
A little more like kindness, goodness, love and faith.
A little more like patience, a little more like peace.
A little more like Jesus, a little less like me.”

Being a disciple of Christ does not forfeit the uniqueness of a God-created me. Being me, being you, is still important because he gifted each of us differently and wonderfully for the work he called us to do individually. It does demand, however, that I become a little less like me and a little more like Jesus by growing in his example…a life that exemplifies mercy, kindness, goodness, love, patience and peace. If those words sound familiar it’s because they echo Paul’s words in Galatians.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

As amazing as those God-given gifts may be, you’re only more like Jesus when you use his gifts to produce the spiritual fruit. These are the attitudes, behaviors and traits that someone who believes in Jesus and longs to be his disciple should demonstrate every day. Being a disciple of Christ means that we mature continually to be more like Christ.

Obedience to the teachings of Christ seems to be the key to discipleship. Everything he taught his disciples during his ministry on earth, he taught so they might be equipped to live as he lived. If you sit as a fly on the wall in the upper room, you’ll hear Jesus get serious with his closest followers.

As they finished eating together in the upper room on the night he was arrested, Jesus drew his disciples into a a deep conversation. He spoke of betrayal. He offered words of comfort when they seemed lost and confused. He promised the Holy Spirit as their constant companion in his absence. Then, he laid out the expectations he had for them to continue the work.

Drawing upon the familiar, he talked about the vine, its branches and the fruit it should bear.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You have already been prepared to bear fruit because of the teaching I have given to you. (John 15:1-3)

Within the imagery Jesus used, the vine is pruned to produce more fruit. A grower will prune extraneous branches that can siphon off the nutrients the plant needs. The main branches then grow stronger and produce more and better fruit. As we grow as Christians, we can let extraneous actions and attitudes sap the life out of our spiritual life. Jesus wants us to rid ourselves of those things that pull us away from living the life he has called us to live. To focus our lives on that which is important for us to do to further the kingdom of God. To be obedient to his teaching. To be his follower. His disciple.

We can’t begin to make that happen without spending time in his word. Paul reminded Timothy as he pastored the church in Ephesus that God’s word is the greatest teacher.

“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

In her Christian blog, Butterflly Living, Mary Rooney Armand talked about eight elements of spiritual growth and discipleship. She said, “When we understand and practice elements of spiritual growth, it helps us move in the right direction.” The critical elements to discipleship, she says, are to:

Become more selfless.
Adjust how we spend our time.
Be more generous with our resources.
Pursue peace rather than chaos.
Choose to forgive.
Build deeper relationships.
Spend more time with God in prayer and worship.
Focus on the eternal rather than the temporal.

Armand’s list aligns closely to that which Jesus taught in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) because it makes us more Christlike…more like a disciple of Christ.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German Lutheran pastor and theologian, wrote extensively about a Christian’s role in a secular world at a time when Hitler was on the rise in Nazi Germany. His resistance to Hitler’s rule cost him his life.

Bonhoeffer wrote Nachfolge in 1937. The book title’s literal English translation is “Following” or “The Act of Following.” English publishers gave it a more dramatic title, translating Nachfolge as The Cost of Discipleship. In this seminal work, Bonhoeffer uses Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount as a call to faithful discipleship in the face of the Nazi’s reign of terror. It’s teaching still resonates well in today’s world when the Christian faith needs to stand for something beyond politics.

Bonhoeffer wrote that “Cheap grace is the mortal enemy of the church. Our struggle today is for costly grace.” Bonhoeffer goes on to define cheap grace.

“Cheap grace is preaching forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession…Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”

Part of the struggle of being a disciple of Christ is recognizing that we are made for more than just salvation. That marvelous grace gift is of eternal significance, but it is not the end of God’s work in us. Our gratitude for what God did for us through Jesus Christ should compel us to walk as he walked. Talk as he talked. Grow in our role as disciple. Share the love, grace and purpose of Christ to a lost world.

It is making a conscious decision to auxano…to grow, in grace and knowledge of our Lord and auxano…to increase the number of those entering the kingdom of God.

Being a disciple of Christ should catapult us toward fulfilling every part of the Great Commission, making new disciples and teaching them all those things he is still teaching us.

Auxano.

Grow. Increase.

It seems like a good word to embrace.

Kaizen!

Background Passages: Revelation 2:16-29

The concept of continuous improvement in the work world took hold during Toyota’s initiative to innovate its manufacturing process. The company introduced the term “kaizen,” which, in Japanese, means “change for the better.” In doing so, Toyota focused its employees’ attention on finding ways to improve the business.

Toyota’s success in turning its business around, spread the idea of continuous improvement into almost every aspect of organizational leadership in corporate and institutional culture over the past 25 years.

When introduced, it was not a new concept, however. The early Christian teachers were all over it. Almost all of Paul’s letters to the early church exhorted them to change for the better. To grow continuously in their faith.

“Therefore, let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity, (not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead toward death) and to faith in God…” (Hebrews 6:1)

“When I was a child, I talked like a child. I thought like a child. I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things. For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (I Corinthians 13:10-12)

“…until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:13-16)

The clear call of scripture is to grow in Christ. To put away childish things, the immature thoughts, that allow us to be drawn away from our faith and witness.

For the past several weeks, I’ve focused my Bible study on the seven churches to whom Jesus spoke in Revelation 2. I’ve written about Ephesus, who had such zeal for sound doctrine and holiness, but forgot how to love. The believers in Smyrna showed us how to live faithfully amid suffering. Those Christians in Pergamum stayed faithful in the big things, holding on to their witness for Christ, but flirting with sin in the way they lived.

Take all the good things being done in Ephesus, Smyrna and Pergamum and you’ll see the church in Thyatira. It was a healthy church, growing in spiritual maturity. Diving into the teachings of Christ, they found themselves praised by Jesus for their good deeds, their love and faith, their acts of service to others and their perseverance in the face of difficulty.

It could not have been easy given their circumstances. Thyatira did not carry the same importance in the region as Ephesus or Pergamum. A small craft and trade center known for its dyeing, garment-making, pottery and brassworking. It was governed in large part by its trade guilds. Trade guilds were powerful organizations that made it difficult for a merchant to pursue his or her trade without belonging to one of the guilds.

Each guild in this pagan culture worshipped its own patron deities, complete with feasts and seasonal festivals that often included sexual practices counter to the teachings of Christ. Christians practicing the trade were placed in a compromising position under pressure from the guild to participate in their immoral rituals. Failure to participate meant exclusion from the guild and little to no access to the profitable markets.

Perhaps it was this kind of pressure that compelled Lydia, a God-fearing maker of purple cloth from Thyatira, to resettle in Philippi where she first heard Paul’s preaching and became a follower of Christ.

In the face of such pressure, Jesus put his stamp of approval on the Christians of Thyatira, praising them for their spiritual growth.

“I know your deeds, your love and faith, your service and perseverance, and that you are now doing more than you did at first.” (Revelation 2:19)

Despite the pressures upon them to conform, the church grew in its spiritual maturity. Whatever good works they were doing when they first came to know Jesus, they were now doing more. The love and faith they demonstrated from the beginning of their conversion experience had grown deeper and more inclusive over time. They cared more deeply for each other and those in need, not just through their emotional expressions, but through their kindness, fellowship and sharing of their faith.

Service and ministry became a part of their spiritual DNA. It was who they were. They found ways not only to teach the gospel, but to tend to the sick, feed the hungry and assist those who were struggling financially.

When their faith was challenged, when they found themselves booted from the guild for their refusal to compromise the call of Christ, they leaned on each other. They weathered the storm. They stayed strong.

The great thing about that, according to the words of Jesus, is that all those things they did in the beginning, they were doing in greater measure as time moved on. They adopted Paul’s message to the Ephesians by declaring, “We will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.”

Isn’t that what every Christian life ought to be? A life of constant improvement in which our tomorrow is a better representation of our today? That our lives grow more abundant in all that is good and noble and holy.

We talk about our firm foundation of faith, but what good is the foundation if we don’t build upon it? We talk of the seed that has been planted in us, but what good is it if we never become the tree? We become a branch of the one true vine, but what good is it if we never bear fruit?

All Christians ought to have a growth mindset, to strive tomorrow to be better disciples of Christ than they are today. Paul said as much to his protégé Timothy as he wrote about the pursuit of godliness.

“To this end (godliness) we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the savior of all people, especially of those who believe.” (I Timothy 4:10)

So for every believer in Christ, we live out a demand for “kaizen,” to “change for the better.” What is continuous improvement for the Christian look like? What does it take to change for the better?

A commitment to spiritual growth requires us to develop an honest habit of cultivating those traits exemplified in Christ. Love, which Christ himself declared the greatest of all commands. Faith, a continuous trust and reliance on God and his spirit to guide our decisions and place our steps. Service, our acts of ministry that demonstrate that we can use his teachings to better the lives of others. Perseverance, that desire to ensure that our understanding of the demands of discipleship grow deeper with each life experience and each passing day. That we finish the race we started.

Such was the commitment of the church in Thyatira…that they were now doing more than they did at first. Our commitment must be the same. To continue growing. To change for the better. To begin to understand with each passing day the truth of the old hymn. “The longer I serve him, the sweeter he grows.”

Despite all the good they did and despite all the growth they experienced, all was not right in Thyatira.

“Nevertheless, I have this against you: You tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophet. By her teaching she misleads my servants into sexual immorality and the eating of food sacrificed to idols. I have given her time to repent of her immorality, but she is unwilling. So, I will cast her on a bed of suffering, and I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways.” (Rev. 2:20-22)

Some Bible scholars infer from scripture that these early Christians in Thyatira struggled with living for Christ while the world around them demanded their involvement in the activities of the guild. The idolatrous practices of the guild would have involved immoral sexual practices and pagan religious observances that feasted on meat offered to their idols. For some believers in the city, the temptation to comply with the world’s demands drew them away from their commitment to Christ.

Every generation of Christians faces the same temptation. It is the fine line to “live in the world, but not of the world.” The cause of Christ cannot be served if Christians retreat completely from the rest of society. The lure of unchristian business practices is a constant tug. The temptation to go along to get along, to accept sin as a way of life, is never ending.

As we live out our calling under the watchful eyes of our neighbors, our lives become a testimony to the reality of Christ in our lives. They either see him in the way we live and work or they don’t.

The Jezebel of Thyatira convinced others in the church to conform to the practices of the pagan culture around them. They placed financial considerations over faith principles. True discipleship demands a higher standard of moral conduct.

So, the passage begs the question. Who or what is your Jezebel?

Jezebel is anything or anyone who suggests that you can compromise any aspect of your faith and still be in good standing with a holy God. It is an easy gospel. A convenient faith. We don’t have to listen too hard today to hear the siren call of a “feel good” sermon, steeped in psychology rather than theology.

It’s easy enough to be pulled off course as a growing Christian, but one who does not regularly study God’s word will find it almost impossible to resist the lure of the easy way out. Christians must constantly test what they hear against scripture in an effort to discern God’s truth. Paul lauded as “noble” the men and women of Berea because they searched the scriptures to test whether his message aligned with what was written in the Old Testament.

Our overzealous pursuit of wealth, our misguided ambitions for success in business, our quest for popularity, our desire to fit in…it’s easy to hear Jezebel whispering in our ears, “Go ahead. It doesn’t really matter.” But, in truth, it does matter.

When we slip away from the path God has laid out before us, he calls us to repent. When we stay the course, obedient to his commands, growing in our understanding, he offers this encouragement.

“Now, to the rest of you in Thyatira, to you who do not hold to her (Jezebel’s) teaching and have not learned Satan’s so-called deep secrets, ‘I will not impose any other burden on you, except to hold on to what you have until I come.’” (Rev. 2:24-25)

The lesson of Thyatira applies equally to us today. Kaizen! Get better every day. Grow in spirit and truth. Never stop learning his will and way. You and I will be tempted to give up and give in. When you feel your grip slipping away, listen for his encouragement.

“Hold on to what you have until I come.”

Shine Like Stars

Background Passages: Philippians 2:12-18; Philippians 1:9-11; Romans 12:1-2; 2 Corinthians 4:5-6

The eye-opening clarity of images from space captured by the Hubble telescope fascinate me. Every new image of a star cluster or galaxy speaks to the wonder of God’s creation.

On Christmas Day last month, NASA launched the long-anticipated James Webb Telescope which is 100 times more powerful than the Hubble. I watched its launch and subsequent deployment with rapt attention. Larger than a tennis court, the Webb had to be folded in upon itself in multiple layers in order to fit inside the spacecraft fairing.

Once on its way to its orbital position one million miles from earth, the telescope began to unfold. NASA officials said that there were more than 344 single points of failure, any one of which would cripple and render useless the $10 billion project.

This week, the last of those 344 points unfurled successfully. All that remains is for the spacecraft to settle into its orbit.

Once the telescope is carefully calibrated, the infrared telescope will enable us to see more deeply into the universe than we’ve ever seen before. Collecting light from the infrared spectrum, the telescope will see the formation of stars and galaxies almost as old as the universe itself. It promises to teach us much about the universe God created.

Watching the deployment over the past few weeks reminded me of how stunning it was to see the night sky on our farm when I was growing up. On those nights when there was no moon in the sky, the vast number of distant stars making up the Milky Way staggered the mind.

Scientists tell us the Milky Way is 120,000 light years from end to end with more than 200 billion stars. On those clear nights, I wanted to count every star.

I came across a passage of scripture this week in Philippians that encouraged believers in Christ to “shine like stars in the universe.” With that thought, I spent some time looking into what Paul was trying to tell us.

The Apostle Paul found himself under house arrest in Rome. While detained, he received a love offering from the believers in Philippi. Paul took the time to write a letter thanking them for their financial support and give an update on his situation. Then, despite his personal circumstances, he encouraged them to stand firm in their faith in the face of persecution. To rejoice regardless of the circumstances in which they may find themselves.

“Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. Do everything without complaining or arguing so that you may become blameless and pure children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life…” (Philippians 2:12-18)

I wonder today how well do I shine? Is my light strong enough to be seen in the darkness that is our world today?

The focal passage begins with one of my favorite biblical words. “Therefore…” If you read the Bible enough, you begin to understand that anytime you see the word therefore it’s time to sit up and pay attention. You’re about to read a word you need to heed.

Our therefore in this passage refers to the preceding verses.

“God exalted him (Jesus) and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 1:9-11)

“Therefore…“Paul begins this passage by reminding the Philippian church that because they obeyed the call of salvation and placed their faith and trust in Christ and because they confessed him as Lord of their lives, they must keep on working out their salvation.

To be clear, this does not mean they are to earn their salvation strictly by continued obedience…by works. Rather, it means that the expression of that confession and belief in Christ must be a process of continuous spiritual growth.

Though salvation is a grace gift freely given, a once and forever decision that cannot be stripped away, it should express itself through our lives as an ongoing learning process toward spiritual maturity. To “continue to work out your salvation” is an encouragement to work until our faith is complete…to bring your salvation to fruition.

The Chinese philosopher said every journey begins with the first step. That moment when we give our lives to Christ is the first step of salvation. Paul reminds the believers that salvation is a continuous process of growing in spirit and truth, daily putting into practice all that Jesus taught us through his words and his deeds.

No Christian should remain unchanged by his or her salvation experience. You cannot accept Christ, making no effort to be obedient to his commands, and shine as you ought. Life abundant comes in learning and doing God’s will and “good purpose” for your life each and every day.

In another time and place, Paul said it this way:

“Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called. (Ephesians 4:1)

That thought which Paul expressed to the church in Ephesus dovetails well with his thoughts in verse 12. Paul praised the Philippians for their faith and steadfast obedience even when Paul was no longer with them.

Their spiritual growth would enable them to withstand the pressures and persecutions of a “crooked and depraved generation.” Lest we get too high on our own horse, our generation is no better. The world around us is just as crooked and depraved.

The words he spoke to Timothy ring true today.

“For a time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.” (2 Timothy 4:2-5)

Paul’s encouragement to Timothy and to those first century believers is no less of an encouragement to believers today.

When confronted by the wickedness and twisted and convenient doctrine of our world, we must arm ourselves with greater knowledge and understanding of God’s word. Keep working out our salvation. Keep on growing in his word. Keep moving toward spiritual maturity. Keep shining like the stars.

How do we shine like stars to a crooked and depraved generation living in our world? What does living as a child of God look like?

Paul was clear. Look at what he says to the Philippians.

“Do everything without complaining or arguing.”

Paul always chooses his words carefully. The word he uses to express complaining is a word used to describe the people of Israel who murmured against Moses while wondering in the wilderness. It is the utterance of a discontented mob, unhappy with life’s circumstance. When he speaks of arguing, Paul describes useless debates and a life of doubt.

When the world is filled with such discontent, the Christian ought to stand out from the crowd, filled with peace and serenity regardless of life’s circumstance. Trust in the presence of God removes debilitating doubt and useless conversation.

And Paul’s encouragement extends to every activity of life. Note the words, “Do everything…” Every act. Every word. Every relationship. In every circumstance of life Paul says, be at peace with God, with others and with yourself. Be like Christ.

“Be pure and blameless.”

Paul also extends a call to purity. To be above reproach. The Greek word for pure in this passage suggests being unmixed or unadulterated. It was used in Paul’s day to talk about wine or milk that had not been diluted with water. In people, it implies sincerity and honest motives. An absence of guile or deceit. To be blameless in this context is not as much a reference to how others see us, but to how God sees us.

In the Old Testament, it spoke to the quality of the sacrifices offered to God; that they were without blemish, spotless. So, Paul is saying to the believers be an unblemished sacrifice (holy and set apart) in the eyes of God, a word he also spoke to the Romans.

“I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:1-2)

The reason for God calling us to a higher standard of living is the idea behind the old hymn:

“Let others see Jesus in you.
Keep telling the story.
Be faithful and true.
Let others see Jesus in you.”

In other words, be like Christ.

That is how we shine like stars in a darkened world. that is how we live a holy and distinctive life of witness to the saving grace of God to a wicked and depraved generation. This is how we “hold out the word of life.”

The call of God to live differently, to shine like stars, isn’t just to bask in the glow of each other’s light as a body of believers. It is a call to missions. Paul wants the lives of all believers, in word and deed, to draw men and women to him. To draw the world to the abundant life he offers all who believe. It is a missional experience.

In this I hear the words of Paul again directing the Corinthian church to live distinctive lives that point toward Christ…

“For what we preach is not ourselves, but Christ Jesus our Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God who said, ‘Let light shine in the darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” (2 Corinthians 4:5-6)

Live your life differently than the world around lives. Stand out in the crowd for your positive and loving attitude. Quit fighting. Speak in love. Treat others equitably. Don’t give anyone a reason to dispute your motives or your methods. Be a light in the darkness.

Again, be like Christ.

Wherever you are tonight, walk outside. Turn your face to the heavens and count the stars. Let them serve as a reminder that God has called us to be like Christ…a light in the darkness.

May the joy and peace that God gives his children light the flame within us so we can help but shine like the stars.

The Unexamined Life

Background Passages: 2 Timothy 4:3-4, 2 Timothy 2:15, 2 Corinthians 13:5, and Psalm 139:23-24

I’ve taught Sunday School to one age group or another since I was 18 years old. To keep you from doing the math in your head, that’s 48 years.

I always felt that those who taught Sunday School carried an extra burden to prepare a lesson that was meaningful and applicable to those who would hear it. I wish I could tell you I diligently prepared every lesson I’ve taught, but I really can’t. There were too many times when the distractions of life got in the way. Shame on me.

As a child I can remember laying on the floor of our den watching television or playing a game while my Mom and Dad sat in their recliners studying the lesson they were going to teach that Sunday. To hear them dissect and discuss what they were reading made an impression on me. Faith requires a lot of self-examination; questioning what we believe and why we believe it.

Paul offered a word of encouragement to Timothy, a young pastor in Ephesus, that I want to extend to you. It serves as a good reminder to me every time I prepare a lesson or when I sit down to write a Bible study like this one. Paul wrote:

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, and who correctly handles the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15

Whether we teach or not, we have an obligation to study God’s word so we can interpret and apply it correctly in our daily lives. Paul wanted Timothy to put in the good work. To serve in such a way that when judgment came, he could hold his head up knowing that he did what God asked of him.

To be able to do so requires us to know the word of God well enough that we can apply it effectively and correctly in every life circumstance.

I know my natural tendency would be to filter scripture through my preconceived ideas of how the world should be. There is even a temptation to bend the scripture to fit those preconceptions and biases. Truthfully, that’s spiritual laziness at its best.

Socrates, I think, would have understood this. The ancient Greek philosopher was sentenced to death in 399 BC for his controversial teachings on the nature of politics and religion. His accusers felt as though he was corrupting the young people of Greece. He was just trying to get them to think on their own rather than take all of life for granted.

At his sentencing, the tribunal gave him an ultimatum…spend the remainder of his life in exile or die. Knowing that his students needed to challenge their thinking in order to grow and learn, he could not simply leave. Facing death, Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

This famed teacher of Plato believed the ability to ask, examine and understand yourself and the world around you would make you a better person. To Socrates, self-examination was critical. I suspect this is what he meant when he taught his pupils to “know thyself.”

Life is confusing in the best of times. These are not the best of times.

Bombarded each hour by formal and informal news and social media outlets, each with an apparent internal bias, our ability to separate fact from fiction grows severely compromised with each passing day. We end up grasping for the easy and comfortable tidbits that conform to our personal biases without searching our own hearts and minds for truth. We just accept or reject it what we read or hear depending on how it fits with our personal views, giving no credence to the thought that we might be wrong.

What’s true in life is true in faith. When we live content to rest upon our preconceived notions without serious and constant examination, taking everything at face value depending on how it connects to those preconceptions, we sit on a perilous perch.

It is awfully easy to accept Christ as savior and do little with it. We learn the rudiments of faith and stop learning what it really means in the nitty-gritty of life to be a follower of Christ.

The truth is that living an unexamined spiritual life will produce mediocrity almost every time. Paul encouraged Timothy to “correctly handle the word of God because…

“The time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” 2 Timothy 4:3-4

Isn’t that our way? Our personal biases filter God’s word, rejecting any message that “corrects or rebukes” our limited understanding of what it means to live for Christ.

I am a work in progress when it comes to understanding who God is and what he requires of me as a Christian in today’s world…and I’ve been at this a very long time.

Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. As I study, as I question, as I examine my own beliefs and understanding, God shapes, clarifies, expands, changes and challenges my definition and application of faith. I realize I don’t know one-half of what I thought I knew.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. When I write these Bible studies, they are personal. I’m writing what I’ve learned and what’s on my heart. What I write is my attempt to show what I think God is teaching me as a life-long learner in God’s kingdom. Please read them through the inquisitive mind of self-reflection and self-examination.

To be effective in one’s Christian walk one must examine one’s thinking. That is, indeed, a treacherous journey into our hearts…into the deep inside of us that only we and God know.

We hear many sermons and Sunday School lessons on how to live a Christlike life, sharing God’s love with others, showing compassion and mercy to the world around us. These things emphasize service as the hallmark of our obedience to God.

Sustaining that work to any great degree is impossible without growing our inner self. Reflective examination of all we believe.

God can be the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. We cannot. A life lived on spiritual autopilot, following the easy path, takes this amazing gift and grace of God for granted. It is a life without reflection and, consequently, without much understanding.

The unexamined life reduces our existence to a set of tasks that we think we must do to earn God’s love. God’s grace doesn’t work that way.

The Corinthian church had faltered, surrendering the moral high ground to the world around them. Paul exhorted them to stay on the right path. He urged them to constantly looking inward…check the heart and mind…set aside their personal assumptions. It’s written as a critical imperative.

“Examine yourselves to see if you are in the faith; test yourselves.” 2 Corinthians 13:5

The author of a blog on the Toward Conservative Christianity website wrote it this way. “As reflection and contemplation wither, inevitably wonder, awe and worship suffer as well. It comes down to our willingness to ask ourselves, ‘Why do I believe that?’, and then searching for the answers in God’s word.”

God, through his spirit, is more than willing to help with that process. As the Psalmist said,

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24

It seems to me that God’s spirit reveals those answers to us based on our ability to understand in this moment, giving us the time and insight we need to reach the next level of spiritual growth…then the next…then the next. I know it has worked that way for me.

He’ll do this for us as long as we keep searching. For as long as we keep searching, he’ll keep opening our eyes to the wonder of who he is and what he requires of us.

At least that’s the way it appears to this one who is still learning.

Clanging Cymbals

Background Passages: I Corinthians 13:1-13; I Corinthians 1:4-7; 3:1-2 and I Corinthians 12

Thankfully, I never experienced it.

A friend of mine in college was majoring in electrical engineering. His roommate never seemed to get up in time for that dreaded 7:30 a.m. English class. The snooze button on his alarm was his favorite friend.

Desperate, the roommate asked my friend for help. The future engineer purchased one of those cymbal clanging monkey toys and, with expertise beyond my capability, rigged it up to a clock and the light switch across the room. Then, every morning at the appointed time, the monkey would crash its cymbals incessantly until the roommate got out of bed and turned on the light.

Ingenious and diabolically annoying.

I think the arrangement lasted only three days before the monkey and its cymbals were found in pieces in my friend’s bed like the horse head in The Godfather. Message sent and received.

As I said, thankfully, I never had to experience it. I would not have lasted three days. There is a reason you never hear a cymbal solo in the band or orchestra. A cymbal by itself is just noise.

After Paul founded the church in Corinth, he moved his base of ministry to Ephesus. While spending a couple of years in that city, Paul began to hear disturbing reports about the divisions and factions developing in the church in Corinth. He eventually received a letter from the congregation asking for clarity on a number of issues the divided church faced. Paul penned a response (I Corinthians) designed to instruct and encourage a gifted, but fractured group of people who failed to shake the influence of the dominate culture.

Paul recognized that God gifted the people in Corinth to do the work he required of them, telling them they had been “enriched in every way…in all your speaking and in all your knowledge…” and that they “do not lack any spiritual gift…” (I Cor. 1:4-7) Yet, he admonished them for growing no deeper in their faith and understanding over the years.

“Brethren, I could not address you as spiritual but as worldly…mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready.” (I Cor. 3:1-2)

Their shallow understanding of God’s teaching and an egotistic application of their giftedness, split the church. Paul recognized that the people of the church had grown little spiritually over the years. They took the basics of faith taught by Paul and did little to deepen their understanding. They still thought and behaved as spiritual children.

There is a richness to the Christian faith that makes living the life of Christ a process…a necessary investment of time, study and the lifelong application of our experiences with God that challenges our faith and dares us to dig more deeply into his truth.

What I knew of God’s word as a 9-year-old boy who just accepted Christ should not be the same as what I know almost six decades later. Any deeper understanding of God’s teaching requires effort on my part, the desire to learn from his word, from his revelation and through the private rebellions and the personal restorations I experience as a child of God.

Life compels us to ask the question. From the moment we accepted Jesus into our hearts, have we grown in our understanding of what God desires of us? Are we gnawing on the meat and bone of God’s word or are we still drinking the milk, with a stomach unconditioned for the deeper truths.

The lack of personal spiritual growth in the Corinthian church led to a great many issues Paul tried to address. He wrote to them about their struggles with sexual immorality and marriage and their insistence on personal rights that caused others to stumble in their faith. He spoke to them of worship and how to make the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper meaningful.

Then, in I Corinthians 12, he provided a powerful lesson about using their individual giftedness to benefit the work of the church rather than glorifying the gifted.

“God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that the parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ and each one of you is a part of it. (I Cor. 12:24b-27)

How do you act as one body in Christ, each benefiting from the gifts of the other? Paul answered the question in the “most excellent way.”

“If I speak in tongues of men and angels and have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophesy and can fathom the mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains and have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.”

Resounding gongs. Clanging cymbals. Screeching clarinets. Paul says the spiritual gifts God shares with his people will grate on people…will annoy to the point of distraction and division… will cause them to close the door to the faith we practice…unless those gifts are grounded and used in the love of Christ.

Loving others as Christ loves may be the greatest mark of our spiritual maturity, particularly in a world in which hatred and division rules and agape love is in such short supply.

As Paul told the Corinthian church he tells us what that love looks like.

“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It is not rude. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

The deeper we dig into God’s word…the more we imitate the life of Christ…the more we begin to understand how loving one another in Christ lets us see the needs of those around us with selfless clarity.

Love is everything this world is not. When our words and actions do not reflect the kind of love Paul describes, we are little more than clanging cymbals…spiritually inclined, but annoying and hollow sounding.

The Corinthians needed to learn that the things in which they took pride would fade away. They needed to understand that love reigns supreme. As gifted as we may be, as great as our faith and hope are, love is greater. Theologian William Barclay said, “Faith without love is cold. Hope without love is grim. Love is the fire which kindles faith and love is the light which turns hope into certainty.”

Until love waters our souls, the roots of our faith and hope will never stretch deeper into God’s truth. We will miss every opportunity to shine God’s light into the darkness. Paul knew it was the missing piece in the Corinthian church.

God knows it is one piece of our lives that can keep us from fully experiencing God’s blessings and from extending God’s grace to a lost world.

I don’t know about you, but I needed to hear that word this week.

“And now, these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Teach Us To Pray

Background Passage: Luke 11:1-13; I Thessalonians 5:17

As the sun rose, Jesus sat silhouetted against the hills, his back against a fig tree. His disciples watched a short distance away, mesmerized by the intensity of the private conversation between Jesus and his father in heaven. They noticed a difference in the prayers of their master and their own more ritualized mutterings. While Jesus prayed passionately and with purpose, theirs seemed more rote than real.

His daily prayer finished, Jesus walked toward them, smiling brighter than the morning sun. “Let’s eat,” he said as he patted his hungry stomach and clapped his hands to get their attention. Nathaniel walked beside Jesus as they entered the courtyard of the house where they were staying, glancing at Jesus as if he had something on his mind.

Jesus eyed Nathaniel and the other disciples who tried hard to go unnoticed. The master grinned, shrugged his shoulders and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Voicing the words whispered by other disciples that morning as Jesus prayed, Nathaniel spoke up. “John taught his disciples to pray. We’ve watched you, Jesus. Heard your words. Can you teach us to pray as you do?”

As they settled into breakfast, the lesson began.

“Pray like this,” he said,

“Our Father, in heaven,
Hallowed by your name.
Your kingdom come. Your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven…”

Jesus finished his model prayer and looked at a room filled with blank faces. They didn’t get it. He thought for a minute and told a story, driving home his point. “Think about it this way…

“Suppose one of you has a friend and he goes to him at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread because a friend of mine on a journey has come to me and I have nothing to set before him.’”

A murmur from the disciples let Jesus know that they understood the gravity of the situation.

Unthinkable!

Unpardonable!

Steeped in culture and tradition, a Jewish family could never be caught unprepared when a guest arrived. Such a mistake was not only unthinkable, it was embarrassing and unforgivable. A fresh reminder of cultural duty.

Jesus went on to explain that the man inside did not wish to disturb his family at such a late hour. Turned his friend away at the door. The neighbor continued knocking on the door, pleading for his help, until his friend relented. Grabbing tomorrow morning’s bread from the shelf, the man handed it to the neighbor outside. A heart more filled with bitterness than benevolence.

Jesus stared quietly at his disciples who understood the intensity of that gaze to mean, “Listen up. Here’s the point.”

“I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man’s boldness (shamelessness), he will get up and give him as much as he needs. So, I say to you, ‘Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.’ For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.”

Missing the point, one of the disciples probably mumbled at the back of the room. “Does God answer our prayers so reluctantly?” Jesus winked at the disciple who turned red with embarrassment. With a glint of amusement in his eyes and his tongue firmly in his cheek, Jesus answered,

“Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil (sinful), know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.”

There has been a long-standing and not fully answered question in our family about the nature of prayer. Does it demonstrate more faith to go to God just once with my concern, trusting that he will answer in accordance to his will? Or am I to “pray without ceasing,” as Paul admonishes, in effect, pounding on heaven’s door until God responds?

The passage, I think, is instructive.

The disciples recognized the power of Jesus’ prayers. Personal. Passionate. Purposeful. We see Jesus throughout scripture praying in the big moments of life. At the start of his ministry…prior to a miracle…in the Garden of Gethsemane…on the cross. This day held nothing special. No significance. Just an ordinary day. Yet, we see Jesus praying. Prayer was a pattern, a routine part of his day.

As he explained his model prayer to his disciples, he used words that indicated that it was God’s intent for prayer to be a continuous part of life. Grammatically in the language of the New Testament, the verbs “ask,” “seek,” and “knock” should be read as “keep on asking,” keep on seeking” and “keep on knocking.“ Continuously bringing your requests, your concerns, your needs to the father.

Pray without ceasing. Right?

That doesn’t mean that if we are annoyingly persistent that God will give in to our requests just to shut us up. Jesus model prayer speaks to the content of the prayers that God honors. God honors and responds to prayers aligned with his will for our lives. “Your will be done” is not a catch phrase to make a greedy request sound honorable. It’s the crux of the whole thing.

God responds appropriately to the submissive heart that keeps on asking, seeking and knocking that things within the will of God will be made real in a person’s life.

“Give us this day our daily bread” speaks to our desire for God to arm us with all we need to accomplish his will in our lives. It is not a guarantee of a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage. God feeds the sparrow after all. It’s not about hitting the prayer lottery where every want gets fulfilled.

Prayer means knowing that God’s plan for my life is perfect and all I need is that which God requires me to have in order to live faithfully within his will.

“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us” is a request for a pure and righteous heart. A desire to stay on the path God laid out for us to travel. It is a petition to put us back on that path when we decide for a moment to go our own way. It is also a request to make forgiveness a lifestyle choice, freely given to those who hurt us.

“Lead us not into temptation” serves as a plea for wisdom to make the right choices. To keep from putting myself in a position to fall away from God’s purpose and plan for my life.

Maybe Jesus is trying to convey the idea that we should be in constant prayer to God for those things that matter most to God. The things that are most important to him. The things he wants most for us.

What if our prayers were for the right words to say to a hurting friend? What if we prayed for wisdom to discern what steps to take in a crisis? What if our prayers sought patience in dealing with a difficult colleague or situation? For a pure heart? The healing of a fractured relationship? To see the good in others? For an extra measure of hope and faith? To act always in accordance to his will and way? To grow beyond my disappointments?

I think God loves it when we pray persistently and with confidence for our spiritual needs. It expresses within us the desire to have God’s help every day in becoming more like Christ.

“What father would give his son a scorpion when he asked for an egg? If a sinful person like you knows how to treat those he loves, how much more will the Father/Creator provide to his children through his spirit? A rhetorical question with an obvious answer. God will never fail to deliver on the prayers of those who ask for the right things with the right heart, at the right time and in the right spirit.

Here’s where I think I’m going with this. Maybe it’s enough for me to pray just once that I get that new job as long as it is in the Father’s will for my life to have it. Maybe I can pray only once that we stay safe in the middle of a storm. Maybe that’s a sign of my faith that God will answer or not answer based upon what’s best for me.

But, I should also pray without ceasing…keep on asking, seeking and knocking persistently…for the things of God. Wisdom. Patience. Faith. Hope. Love. God never tires of us petitioning him for that which makes us more like Christ.

Prayer is not about bending God’s will to the desires of my heart. Prayer is about aligning the desires of my heart with the will of God. God will listen to that prayer all day, every day, and twice on Sunday.

Amen?

An Inconvenient Faith

Background Passages: Jude; Romans 8:28, Luke 14:28-33; Matthew 16:25-26

We live in a culture that carries with it a sense of entitlement to the good life. A belief that the world owes us a certain standard of living. An expected quality of life. There is an increasing number of people in our culture who hold an unrealistic, unmerited and inappropriate expectation that others should extend to them favorable treatment or conditions to make their lives easier. Our culture seems to have abandoned, to a large degree, the idea of personal accountability.

Everyone signs off on the idea of our responsibility of helping others, but we tend to qualify that assistance with “as long as its convenient and benefits me.”

It’s a sad enough perspective when taken at a culture level, when this sense of entitlement creeps into the life of the church it weakens our message and our ministry. Yet, there is a thread of entitlement weaving its way into the gospel turning worship into entertainment and God’s word into a watered down “make me feel good about myself” version of truth.

The brightly colored billboard advertising a mega-church led with this…

“All things work together for good…” (Rom. 8:28)

On its surface, a positive and encouraging message. The snippet suggests that God loves me so much that he will prevent bad things from happening to me. That I am somehow entitled to his blessing. That his will for my life is filled with financial blessing and physical health. That all I need to do is to stay positive. To think positive thoughts. It is the root of the prosperity gospel so prevalent today.

The trouble with faith grounded in entitlement is as life takes a turn for the worse, which it will inevitably do, the roots of our belief barely stretch beyond the topsoil, depriving us of the strength we need in troubled times. When life and faith fail to match our expectations, we question the reality of God’s love.

The problem with the truncated message of the billboard is that it left out the important part.

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

I have learned in my life that God works through tragedy and turmoil to teach me…and grow me…and nurture me…and sustain me. To make his presence known. To allow me to feel his presence through his perpetual love and perfect will for my life. For me to understand his working in my life I must focus my love, faith and trust on him. Whatever the outcome, God’s result will always be better than anything I try to do on my own.

The conflict between authentic faith and convenient faith is not new. It has been an issue for the church from the beginning. The rich young ruler turned away from Jesus because the demands of discipleship were too high. Judas betrayed Jesus because his gospel didn’t fit his world perspective.

Demas, a cohort of Paul’s during his second missionary journey, shirked his responsibilities and abandoned Paul while the apostle languished in a Roman prison. When Demas faced a difficult moment of ministry, God’s way looked too steep. The world’s way looked easier, more prosperous…more convenient…and he walked away.

Yet, there is an answer. Buried in plain view in one of the most obscure books of the New Testament.

Despite its rapid growth, the early Christian church fought through serious issues that challenged the nature of faith. By the time Jude wrote his letter to a group of Jewish converts, the battle for authentic faith hit with full force.

It didn’t take long for folks to try and make the Christian life more convenient by distorting the teachings of Christ. Within a few years of Jesus’ time on earth, there were those who perverted the concept of God’s grace. Since grace trumped the law, they reasoned, then morality doesn’t matter. You can live anyway you please knowing that God’s grace covers all sin. They took this idea so far that these false teachers declared that the more you sinned, the more grace was revealed, adding to your testimony of God’s goodness. As Dana Carvey’s “Church Lady” once proclaimed, “How convenient.”

The early church also wrestled with those who believed that God granted special knowledge to some people that made them more godly than others to whom this knowledge was denied. That true salvation depended upon receiving this special knowledge.

Early in his letter, Jude tells us he intended to write them about the faith they share. Helping them grow deeper in that faith. Because of the issues they faced, his message changed, urging them, instead, to be prepared to defend the faith against those who would distort the truth. Jude recognized that the greatest danger to the Christian faith was not the opposition from outside the church, but from those inside the faith who would lessen the demands of discipleship to make it more palatable…easier…convenient. Jude called these folks, “clouds that drop no rain but are blown away by the wind.”

Authentic faith is never convenient. Authentic faith never promises personal prosperity. It never promises an easier life by the world’s standards. Authentic faith always calls us to step outside our comfort zones to be obedient to his will and to meet the needs of others. To live the life he called us to live. Authentic faith requires us to set aside any sense of entitlement and live in service to others.

The question is how do we do that?

Jude gives us the blueprint.

“But you, beloved, you must build yourselves up on the foundation of your most holy faith; you must pray in the Holy spirit; you must keep yourselves in the love of God; while you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ which will bring you life eternal.” {Jude 20-21)

Build our lives on the foundation of faith handed down through Jesus Christ. The person of faith rests his life not on personal opinion or a man-inspired gospel, but upon the words and truth of Jesus. A few verses earlier he called upon his brothers and sisters in Christ to “remember the words of the apostles.” To ground ourselves in scripture. Yet, he adds a clear distinctive. It’s not enough for us to rely on our own interpretations, but to look at the gospel of Christ under the prayerful guidance of the God’s spirit. Testing what we think we think we know against his word and the spirit’s revelation to us.

Jude also teaches that the foundation of our faith will be evidence in our love for God. God loves us unconditionally. His love is a gift of grace. Such grace…such love…demands that we make the effort to stay in close, intimate relationship with the God we love. Pure. Real. Honest. True. Demonstrated by our obedience to his will and the life he calls us to live.

You see, genuine faith is not designed to make the world different, but to make us different. Faith can never be an intellectual belief nor a cultural perspective. It is meant to be a life-changing, moral imperative.

Jesus told us there would be a price to pay for following him.

“For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it…so, likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all he has cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:28, 33)

“For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul?” (Matthew 16:25-26)

We are called to an inconvenient faith. It will be hard…demanding…difficult…and, if expressed well, more joyous that you can ever hope to experience any other way.

Why Do You Call Me ‘Lord?’

Background Passages: Matthew 7:24-29; Luke 6:46-49; and James 1:22-25

I listened to Christian comedian Chondra Pierce on my car radio this week. After a serious moment in her show she began talking how she coped with the storms in her life by reading. She pulled out a book and began to read a profound passage from her favorite novel, The Three Little Pigs.

The dread and consternation she emoted while describing the plight of the porky home builders was quite humorous. She lavished such praise on the little pig who had the foresight to build his home, not of straw or sticks, but fire-hardened brick.

Almost immediately, my mind went straight to one of the earliest Bible stories I remember hearing as a child…the story Jesus shared of the men who built their respective homes on rock and sand. Old fairy tales offered a simple moral. Jesus’ parables offered the ordinary to teach the extraordinary.

That he was a carpenter and a stone mason added gravity to his words. For the better part of his adult life, Jesus lived with deep callouses on his hands layered by day after day of swinging hammers, sawing logs and stacking stones. Learning the trade at the side of his father, Jesus understood that the secret to building a sturdy house rested in the quality of its foundation.

The land surrounding Nazareth in Galilee consisted of rocky hills, deep and fertile valleys, interlaced with brooks, streams and dry gullies susceptible to flash flooding during the rainy season. Such storms threatened the unprepared. At an early age, Jesus learned to find bedrock when clearing land for a new home.

When he taught the multitudes, the master storyteller often drew upon his experiences and the familiar experiences of his audience to drive home a spiritual point.

On one such occasion in the hills of Galilee, a large multitude of people from “all over Judea, from Jerusalem and from as far away as Tyre and Sidon” on the coast of the Great Sea, gathered to hear Jesus teach and to be healed of their diseases. And, he taught them a great many things.

“…Blessed are the poor, for yours is the kingdom of God…”

“…Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you…

“…Do to others as you would have them do to you…”

“…Do not judge…Do not condemn…instead forgive…”

“…No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart…”

Jesus looked into the faces of the men and women surrounding him, a good many who were following him wherever he went. He could see the few who grasped the significance of his words. Far more, it seemed, sat waiting for a miracle, with eyes that failed to see beyond their physical need and hearts closed to the truths so freely offered.

As the silence grew uncomfortable, Jesus shook his head, the anguish in his heart evident to those who knew him best.

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

Before him sat a multitude that was really good at hearing the words Jesus preached and very bad about putting those words into practice. With that penetrating question, he shared a story drawn from the pages of their lives.

Jesus told about a man who wished to build a home for his family. He searched his property for the best site upon which to build. He had options. When he found a suitable site, he cleared the land, moved loose rock and soil until he reached the bedrock. Using tools and muscle power, he chipped away at the stone until it was level.

Then, he dug more deeply in the four corners, sinking the foundation firmly upon the rock. Once done, he stacked the stones, building the walls straight and level. After he moved his family into the home he built, a storm came. The winds howled. The streams rose in a torrent and pushed against the house. Because it was so solidly built on its foundation of stone, the house stood through the storm.

Jesus looked again at the crowd around him and made his case. The man who built this house is so much like “the man who comes to me, hears my words and puts them into practice.”

But, there is another man in this story who also wished to build a home for his family. He searched his property for the best site upon which to build. He had options. When he found a suitable site, it looked too much like work so he chose another place where the land was already smooth and level. Raking the loose dirt to prepare it, he stacked the stones, building the walls as straight and level as the soft soil would allow.

After he moved his family into the home he built, the storm came. The wind howled. The stream rose to a torrent and pushed against his house, just as it did the other. This time, though, the water began to wash away the dirt beneath the walls, undercutting their stability. The walls shifted in the wind. The roof fell. The house collapsed with a great crash.

Jesus clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in sorrow. This man, he said, is like the “one who hears my words and does not put them into practice.”

His unspoken question lingered in the air, clearly to anyone who was really listening. Which man are you going to be?

It’s a fair question. Not just on the mountainside at Jesus’ feet. It’s a fair question to those of us sitting in the pews of our respective churches.

I think it is important to know that Luke identifies the people who sat on the mountainside that day with Jesus as “disciples.” Not just the 12, but disciples nonetheless. These were not the paparazzi or the curious who just wanted to say they once heard the teacher speak. These were people who recognized the power coming from Jesus both in what he said and what he did. They were followers, learners…disciples.

Yet, like so many of us who are followers, learners…disciples, Jesus’ words were simple platitudes and proverbs that read well when embroidered on a pillow. They were not life-changing, foundational principles upon which they built their lives.

There have certainly been times in my life where I was content in the knowledge of Jesus I gained, neither needing, nor wanting, more. Content to sit in my pew, listen to a sermon, acknowledge the goodness of the words and never letting them direct my actions during the week. Pious platitudes planted in the sand.

It is a fair and justified question! What good is it if we call him “Lord, Lord” and don’t do what he says we must do?

We are called to be so much more. To do so much more. We live our lives doing what feels right at the time. Not listening to the warnings. Ignoring God’s wisdom. Building our lives out of straw and stones on sand that shifts with every raging storm and rising stream. Because our faith is not sufficiently grounded in the bedrock of Christ, life collapses around us.

The good news of God’s forgiveness and grace is that we are not stuck living in the sand. Our house can be rebuilt.

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom and continues in it…not forgetting what they heard, but doing it…they will be blessed in what they do.” James 1:22-25

These words say essentially the same thing as Jesus said that day on the mountainside. Hearing the word is one thing. Doing what the word demands takes it to a deeper level of commitment. Living as Christ lived…in his image…practicing what we preach…is the call of every believer.

But consider James who wrote this passage. Early in his life the half-brother of Christ heard the words Jesus proclaimed and probably liked the sound of them. Yet, he refused to build on that foundation. At various times, he tried to get Jesus to stop his ministry. Called him crazy.

Yet, after the storm of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross and his resurrection brought his life crashing down around him, James cleared away the grass and the dirt until he hit bedrock. He rebuilt his life on the firm foundation of Jesus Christ and all he taught. His testimony changed. No longer ashamed to call him “brother,” James now called Jesus, “Lord,” putting into practice every dot, every tittle, every word.

It’s a parable, not a fairy tale. Building our lives on the firm foundation of Christ requires us to dig deeper into his word. Understand what the Holy Spirit is teaching us today. Open our hearts to new truth. And,put into practice all we hear and learn from him in our lives, extending to the lives we encounter each day.

Until we put God’s word into practice, our lives are just straw and sticks and sand.

So, the story begs the question.

Why do you call him “Lord”?

Here’s Mud In Your Eye

Background Passage: John 9:1-41

God created us with intelligence and natural curiosity. He created us to reason and think. To learn something new every day we live. That’s why I love being around children. In a quest of new discovery, they are willing to ask a thousand questions just to understand one thing more. Learning is a God-given gift.

That’s why I love to study scripture. There is so much of God’s plan and purpose I do not understand, I always feel like a child on the verge of discovery. Seeking new insight. Tossing away old paradigms. I believe there is always something new God can teach me about his nature…about the life he has given me.

That’s probably why I struggle with those who live in such certainty that their faith gets set in concrete leaving them unable and unwilling to test what they know. Dogma is the death of discovery. When it comes to my faith, my certainty rests in my personal experiences, everything else is discovery. Maybe that’s why the blind man in John 9 is one of my favorite Bible characters.

Deep blue skies.
No cloud in sight.
By daily measure…ordinary.
To those walking the streets of Jerusalem…unnoticed.
To the man born blind…remarkable.

He sat on the stone-lined edge of the Pool of Siloam.
Feet dangling into the water.
Cool.
Clear.
Staring in wonder at his reflection
Framed by the blue heavens above.
His first time to see his own image.
His first time to see anything.
His trembling fingers traced the hollow of his eyes.
Touched the rise of his cheeks
The contour of his nose.
Brushed through his coarse beard.
Ran his fingertips along his sun-baked lips.

Heart racing.
Breath,
a series of ragged gasps.
He lifted his eyes to the world around him
and immediately raised his hands.
Shielded his eyes from the harsh glare
of the mid-morning sun.
He blinked.
Tears running down a face
he had never known.

A world of touch and texture,
brought to life in a
confusion of form and color,
now coalesced around him.

For the first time he saw…
the ripple of wind on water.
The elegance of the portico-covered pool.
The dance of sunlight and shadow.
The beauty of the surrounding hills.
The people…oh, the people.

Slowly, his mind adjusted to this new reality.
Standing awkwardly like a new colt,
steadied by the joyful friend who guided him here from the temple,
the man gradually found his balance…
not an easy task for one blind since birth.

In time,
they danced.
Sang.
Laughed.
Cried.
On his way home…
throughout the streets of Jerusalem…
he shouted to anyone and everyone,
“I can see!
I was blind, but now I see!”

John tells this poignant story in a series of scenes set between two major confrontations between Jesus and the Pharisees. We find Jesus and his disciples leaving their time of worship through the south gate of the Temple. As they walked down the steps, his disciples posed a question steeped in Jewish tradition. Pointing to a man begging on the bottom of the Temple steps, they asked,

“Jesus, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?”

According to the prevailing belief of the day sin was responsible for all illness and disability. A child sick or disabled since birth either sinned somehow in the womb or the parents’ disobedience caused this infirmity. Jesus often fought this kind of misguided thinking. Seizing this teachable moment, Jesus explained to his disciples.

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned. This happened so the work of God might be displayed in his life…While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

Neither God nor man caused this unfortunate circumstance, but God would use this man’s condition as a living metaphor of his ability to turn darkness and despair into light and life.

With that declaration, Jesus approached the man. Sat next to him on the steps. Engaged him in quiet conversation. Sensing the man’s open heart, Jesus spat on the ground and worked his saliva and the light gray limestone soil into a muddy paste that he spread across the man’s eyes. Taking his hands in his own, Jesus stood, lifting the man to his feet.

“Now, go,” he said, “wash in the Pool of Siloam.”

With the help of a friend, the man made his way down the slope of the Temple Mount, about a quarter of a mile southward toward the large, terraced pool, fed by the Gihon Spring. The man must have received odd looks as he made his way through the crowd with mud covering his eyes.

He sat on the edge of the water and did has he was instructed. Splashing the cool water on his face, the man wiped the mud from his eyes. I can see him taking a deep breath as he wipe away the water and grim with the sleeve of his robe. Slowly, he opened his eyes to a brand new world.

Over the next few hours and days, the man faced disbelief and disparagement. Some friends thought him an impostor. The Pharisees called him before the council, not to celebrate his healing, but badger him in hopes of accusing Jesus of violating the Sabbath. They sapped the joy of his healing.

Fearing for their own reputation, his own parents refused to stand by him. Ultimately, the Pharisees condemned him as a sinner, eventually excommunicating the man from the synagogue because he refused to deny that Jesus was the one who restored his sight.

In the end, John tells us that Jesus sought out the man whom he healed after learning about the Pharisees’ actions. Face to face with Jesus, the man made a heart-felt confession of faith. At the Pool of Siloam, in the blink of an eye, his physical blindness became 20/20 vision. Over the course of the next 48 hours, he went from being entombed in spiritual darkness to being embraced by the Light of the world.

The power of Jesus echoes throughout this amazing story. But, I also marvel at the authoritative testimony of the man born blind. Standing before a hostile panel of powerful religious leaders who called him a fraud, grilled him mercilessly, challenged his every word, the man never faltered. Never failed to speak the truth.

The Pharisees clamored for him to deny Jesus’ power. Pushed him to denounce his healer. “We know this man is a sinner!” they shouted, challenging him to confirm their accusation. With uncommon strength of character, the man, so unlearned in theology, said simply,

“Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind, but now I see.”

What an extraordinary confession of faith!

Imagine the man’s first few moments at the pool. Sights never seen began to fall into context in new ways. Not only were his eyes changed, but God transformed his mind to allow him to interpret and make a sense of what he was seeing for the first time. The miracle changed his heart. A life of resigned despair became a life of renewed hope and endless possibilities.

So what is the take away from this man’s experiences?

There is so much about God’s creation I do not understand. So much about his plan and purpose I cannot comprehend. So much about his nature which remains unknown to me. So much he still must teach me. I don’t know about you, but like the Pharisees, I tend to build a false world around me filled with my plans, my truth and my finite understanding of God and his world based on what I think I know. What I’ve discovered in my life is that that viewpoint is almost always limited. To an extent, that’s okay.

Look at this man’s example. He could not explain what happened. How his eyes were opened remained a mystery to him. He didn’t claim to understand. Nor did he back down in the face of mounting pressure. He merely spoke out with a growing faith borne of powerful, personal experience.

“This one thing I do know. I was blind, but now I see.”

What an extraordinary confession of faith! This man born blind from birth would find ahead of him a life of discovery, not just in the physical world he could now see, but in his budding faith. Knowing what he did not know, he started his new life on what he had experienced with Jesus. That’s a fine place to start.

When I don’t have answers to every question that comes my way, this one thing I do know. I was blind, but now I see.

So, my prayer today is simple. “God, cover my eyes in mud. Let me wash in the Pool of Siloam. Let me understand more clearly, God, who you are and what you need from me. Let me see the world from your perspective. Open my heart and my mind to the discovery of this life you’ve given me. At the end of the day, when the world challenges that which I do not fully know, let me share my personal experiences with you.”

Maybe that’s a prayer that works for you as well.

Here’s mud in your eye.

Come Sit at the Big Table

Background Passages: Luke 2:41-52; Philippians 2:6-7; I Corinthians 3:1-3

I don’t know if your family gatherings were like mine growing up. Typically, everyone brought a pot luck casserole or vegetable while someone provided the ham. Everyone would meet at Grandma’s house after church on Sunday.

The cousins would play…loudly…while the food was placed on the dining room table, extended to its full length. Card tables sat in the “formal” living room, surrounded by those folding chairs that pinched more than one finger at some point during the day. After a prayer, the adults sat around the dining room table, banishing the kids with their paper plates to the card tables in the next room.

I remember listening from the other to the conversation around the big table. Sometimes it was filled with love and laughter. Sometimes it was serious and somber.

For each of the cousins, we longed for the day when Grandma would point you to a chair at the big table. What a glorious rite of passage! No longer a child. Now, an adult.

I wonder if Jesus felt that way when he entered the temple in Jerusalem when he was 12-years-old. Picture it.

Every year of his memory, the boy traveled with his family from Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. His father, devote and upright, would walk with his son into the temple, his hand resting lightly on his son’s shoulder. Each year, the father let his son experience the awe and majesty of the towering white-washed temple stone, glistening in the morning sun.

Then, he would drop to a knee, take the young boy by the shoulders and remind him of his place. Standing with the other children against the wall—to look, listen and learn. Being seen, but never heard. With a smile and a gentle push, Joseph sent Jesus to join the other boys, all who longed for the day when they would be invited among the men to learn at the feet of Jerusalem’s most noted rabbis.

What a difference this year made! Jesus, on the verge of Jewish adulthood, entered his final year of study prior to becoming a “son of the covenant.” This would be his first year to sit among the men in the temple in Jerusalem, a moment about which Jesus dreamed for years.

On this special day, Jesus stood a little straighter beside his father just inside the gates of the inner courtyard. Joseph marveled at the lad who stood nearly as tall as he, the young man’s eyes fixed straight ahead, the slight smile on his face filled with anticipation and yearning. Jesus watched with fond recollection as his father again took a knee, hands resting on the shoulders of his younger brothers…a quiet word and gentle push sending them to stand with the other boys.

As Joseph watched them walk away he brushed the dust from his robe. When all was in order, the father gazed down at his oldest son and grinned. He knew the importance of the day for Jesus. It was all he spoke about for the last six months. With a nod of his head the two walked into the gathering crowd of men. No longer a child. Now, an adult.

The day ended. The thrill of the conversation not lost on Jesus. Throughout the teaching and questioning of the rabbi, Jesus listen. Never uttered a word. Never asked a question. Respectful of the moment. Taking it all in. That night he visited with family, excited by the day, full of questions left unasked at the temple.

The group of family and friends rose bright and early the next morning setting out on a long journey home…all except Jesus. He had every intention of returning home, but in the hustle of the morning, the burning questions in his heart consumed him. Almost without thinking he found himself again inside the temple, sitting on the steps among the men, listening with rapt attention to the words of the rabbi.

No longer overwhelmed by the moment, Jesus could no longer contain himself. He listened. He commented. He sought clarification. He probed with questions of his own that startled the rabbi. When the rabbi turned the tables and asked questions in return, Jesus did not shy away. He thought. He recited passages of scripture to support his thoughts. The dialogue intrigued the rabbis, drawing a larger crowd to hear the dynamic exchange of ideas.

Night fell and Jesus remained again in Jerusalem, finding a family to let him sleep by their fire. The next morning he went again to the temple, finding his place among the rabbi’s disciples. The dialogue deep, rich and instructive.

You know the rest of the story. The next day Jesus sat in the temple astounding everyone with his understanding and his insight. Amazing the learned ones with his questions. Drawing them deeper and deeper into the scripture they often took for granted. Making them think with him. Learning more with each passing hour.

At some point, Jesus felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Looking behind him he saw the face of his father, a look of relieved anger etched in his eyes. Joseph said nothing. He just crooked his finger, beckoning Jesus to follow. Follow he did. They left the inner courtyard and came face to face with Mary, his mother.

The swirl of robes engulfed him with a mother’s relief of a lost child found. Then, she pushed him away and the anger flashed. Jesus didn’t often see his mother in such a state, but he was smart enough to know to let her speak first.

“Son, why have you treated us so? Your father and I have been looking for you anxiously.”

I suspect there was more to the conversation than Luke records in his gospel. Suffice it to say, Jesus got an earful.

I also suspect there was a more sympathetic and apologetic response from Jesus than scripture records. “I am sorry. I should have asked to stay. I have never felt anything like this. I should have asked to stay. Please don’t be mad. Don’t you know? I must be about my Father’s business.”

In the hugs that followed and the sincere sorrow at the distress he caused, Mary and Joseph both recalled all those things they treasured in their hearts since the angel first visited. With a heavy sigh of forgiveness, Mary embraced her son again, “Please, next time, just let us know what you’re doing.” I can see Jesus reaching out, touching his hand to her check, a gesture of love and affection, “I’m so sorry, Mother. I promise.”

As they began again their journey home, Jesus filled each moment with excited conversation about all he had learned about God’s love, God’s will and God’s purpose.

I think we live with the assumption that Jesus was born with the full knowledge of his God-ness. I’m not sure that’s true. The day may come when I understand the duality of Jesus Christ as he lived among us as God and man. That day is not today by any means. I reason it out as best I can, trying to rationalize the omniscient and omnipotent Father encased in human form.

We tend to see Jesus as a four-year-old boy, capable of miracles, knowing completely his purpose and role as God’s Messiah. Yet, scripture tells us Jesus grew in wisdom and stature in the eyes of men and God. Growing in stature comes easily enough. The child became a man. Growing in wisdom complicates things. If he were God in all complete power and knowledge from the moment of birth, how could he grow in wisdom?

I believe Jesus understood to whom he belong. He knew who is Father was. His response to Mary and Joseph was honest. “I must be about my Father’s business.” I just don’t think he had full knowledge of what that meant for him and how it would play out in his life…at least not when he was twelve.
Scholars far more learned than I speak to God imposing personal limits to his own power and knowledge when he took human form so he could be “like us.” Paul said as much in Philippians:

“Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.”

Perhaps Jesus emptied himself of the omniscience of the Father. There were some things he did not know. He admitted that some things were hidden from him when he told the disciples in Matthew that he did not know the day of his return:

“Of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. “

If we can buy that idea, we see Jesus’ time in the temple in a new light. Not as God speaking from the mouth of a 12-year-old, enlightening the blindness of the rabbis. Rather, we see the inquisitive nature of a student of God. One who desires to know all there is to know about the nature and work of God. One craving righteousness.

That’s the point of the narrative in my eyes. Jesus preached to the multitude on the mountainside and tells them, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…” He understood that nature of that blessing because he experienced it himself as an eager boy in the temple. He recalled that longing to know God that compelled him with passion to seek answers to questions to which he had no ready answers. The quest for righteousness drove him to study…to grow in spiritual wisdom…in preparation for the moment when God would release him for ministry.

If we are to live in the image of God we must also hunger and thirst for righteousness as if our lives depended upon its sustenance.

What does that mean for us?

Too many Christians are not eager to understand more about God than they already know. We grow complacent and comfortable in our knowledge. As Paul said, to the Corinthians, “I gave you milk not solid food for you were not ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready for you are worldly.”

It is a message echoed by the writer of Hebrews. “Although by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again…Everyone who lives on milk is still an infant, inexperienced in the message of righteousness.”

When we ought to be hungering for righteousness, we often grow too comfortable sitting at the kid’s table, afraid of the conversations that take place in the other room. Hoping we will never be asked to sit at the big table.

Yet, Jesus, as a boy, understood that obedience to God required him to open God’s word. To probe and dig more deeply into its treasure. To be responsive to God’s call today requires us to sink our teeth into God’s scripture. Asking questions. Looking for answers. Reading scripture each day as if it were new. Praying that the Spirit might breathe new truth into an open heart and mind.

I am grateful for the pastors and mentors in my life. I’m grateful for parents and Sunday School teachers who challenged my thinking. Friends who encouraged me to ask questions and to keep asking until the pieces of life’s puzzle began to fit together. I’m grateful to God who shows me sometimes that the puzzle pieces can fit together in a new way, taking me more deeply down the path he needs me to travel.

I am grateful that God invites us daily to sit with him at the big table.

Pull up a chair.