My “Two Cents” Worth…

my_2_centsI find it interesting identifying the origin of popular words and phrases. No less so that the phrase many of us have often used, “But, that’s just my two cents.” Where did that phrase come from? Depending upon where one searches for the answer, we would discover that the English language contains many specific terms for goods or services that cost two cents (or twopenny, two-pence), some of them very old. We also might discover that over time two cent or twopenny also became descriptors of items that weren’t worth much, if anything. Finally, somewhere in the mid-1920’s, we discover the phrase became attached to the practice of offering unsolicited advice. But, the earliest reference to anything analogous to “two cents” appears in the lesson of the widow’s mite in the Gospel of Mark. In that earliest reference, the “two cents worth” has a totally different meaning than how we’ve come to us it. For the widow, the “two cents” was everything. For the wealthy who stood around her it didn’t mean much. I’m afraid we still take our “two cents” to be worth just that—two cents.

You know the scene. Jesus sits and watches as people put their offerings in the offering boxes around the Temple. There were 13 of them, in fact lined along the outside of one of the Temple courtyards. They looked like trumpets, and it was quite the show to watch persons go by and toss their coins into the horns. The noise would be predicated upon the type and number of coins a person dropped into the box (demonstrate with bucket and coins). There were even some who would make a show of their offerings. That might be why Jesus said in the verses just prior to the example of the widow:

38 Jesus also taught: “Beware of these teachers of religious law! For they like to parade around in flowing robes and receive respectful greetings as they walk in the marketplaces. 39 And how they love the seats of honor in the synagogues and the head table at banquets. 40 Yet they shamelessly cheat widows out of their property and then pretend to be pious by making long prayers in public. Because of this, they will be more severely punished.”     (Mark 12: 38 – 40 NLT)

Remember that “the teachers of religious law” were the experts in the Law of Moses. They were teachers of the Law in schools and synagogues. They expounded on the Scriptures and preserved them. They were also referred to as lawyers and served as judges in the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Supreme Court. Jesus warns His disciples “beware of these teachers of religious law.” He gives several reasons for His warning, but note one in particular: “they shamelessly cheat widows out of their property” (verse 40). They exploited widows. Jews and Christians have always been charged with a ministry of caring for widows. The Apostle James, in his letter says: “Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27). So, Jesus charges them with cheating widows rather than visiting them in their distress.

As Jesus sits watching at the Temple, condemning those “teachers” or “judges,” he notices who is putting what in the Treasury, and he notices who makes the show of it. Then, enter the “poor” widow who puts in her “two cents.”

Just how poor was the widow? The word “poor” suggests she was “utterly helpless, completely destitute, living in such absolute poverty that perhaps even needed necessities for survival such as food and shelter were lacking.” It was highly probable that she did not have another male relative to provide for her needs—no father, son, brother, or even a brother-in-law. Basically, there was no social safety net to capture this poor widow. No social security. No husband’s estate or pension. No pension of her own. She was not like Christy Walton. I actually read this headline this week: “The WalMart heir everyone believed was one of the richest women in America is actually poorer that people thought.” Christy Walton is John Walton’s widow, and she was originally believed to be worth $32 billion dollars. Turns out she’s only worth $5 billion. What a shame. Poorer than people thought, indeed! Definitely not the widow Jesus was referencing. No, I’m afraid we don’t know the value of the two pennies the widow placed in the Temple treasury.

We can’t fully grasp what it meant for her to put in her two cents worth. Jesus calls his disciples together and says ‘truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth but she gave out of her poverty, she put in everything, all she had to live on.’

Jesus knew that these are not just two coins, but the woman’s last two. According to the text, it was all she had to live on. The original Greek word used is ‘bios’ from which we get biology, the study of life. This widow put her whole life into the temple treasury that day. The widow gave 100% of her money. She is down to two worthless little coins and she trusts it all to God, she laid her whole self before God. For the widow, it wasn’t just a matter of giving. It was a matter of going “all-in.” It seems almost reckless to us. It sounds so much like a poor person sending in the last two dollars they have to a television evangelist. We scratch our head and wonder, “Why would they do that?” But, I might suggest it is reckless—reckless trust, and that’s just the type of trust God honors and Christ commends. Her two cents represents total abandon to the Kingdom of God. The widow could easily have retained one of the coins for herself (and we would have called it justifiable). It wouldn’t have been much but it would have been something. Instead, she gave her life. And the call of Jesus to us is the give all we have. That’s a reckless thing to do because we never know where it will lead us, never know what we might be called to do.

For the woman the giving was sacrificial. It’s never the amount given that matters, but the cost to the giver. It’s not the size of the gift but the sacrifice of the gift. I might even suggest that her giving was never about money. It was always about her heart. That’s what she put in the Temple treasury that day—she put her heart. She was totally committed.

A pig and a chicken were walking down the road. As they pass a church, they notice that a potluck charity breakfast was under way. Caught up in the spirit, the pig suggests to the chicken that they each make a contribution.

“Great Idea!” the chicken cried. “Let’s offer them ham and eggs!”

“Not so fast.” said the pig. “For you, that’s just a contribution, but for me, it’s a total commitment.”

Jesus contrasted two different types of people. Those who put a lot in, but their heart wasn’t in the right place. It was more about themselves than about the Kingdom. Then, there was the widow who put all in that day. What a difference!

Today a lot of people categorize church into one of two categories. The first category would be those who ask, “What do I get out of church?” Or, they might ask, “What does the church provide me?” Or, “Does the worship service give me strength and encourage me?” Maybe, “What am I getting when I attend church?”

The second category would be those who ask, “What do I give to church?” I give praise to God in worship. I lead and teach children and youth and adult classes. I serve others whenever I have an opportunity. I use my gifts and talents to organize and plan ministries. I give my financial resources to the local church. I join in a partnership with the larger connection of United Methodist churches around the world. I share my story about what Christ has done for me, and so I’m witnessing my faith to lead others to Christ.

We must be careful which question we find ourselves asking, for therein lies the key to understanding the value of our “two cents.” When we only ask the “what am I getting” question, we come perilously close to being the former in today’s text. Sure, they put in much from their abundance, but there wasn’t much heart in the offering. When we ask the “what am I giving” question, it reflects a heart tuned to the heart of God and to the needs of the world around us.

The truth is: When we’re not getting much out of church, it is most likely we’re not giving much to church. The life of a disciple is one whose heart is “all-in.” The widows “two cents” were everything. I trust my “two cents” will be everything, too.

Someone may ask, “Well what good can I do? I am too old, or too young. I am too poor, or too sick. I have too many children to care for. I am a widow. I am too busy. I am too weak. The job is impossible for me to do. It’s asking too much. What can one person do?”

Martha Berry was a lady with a vision to help children. She had a dream to start a school for poor children in Georgia. When she started she had no books, nor building. More importantly, she had no money. What she did have was a vision of how things could be, and she had a desire to go out and live out that dream. She went to Henry Ford to ask for a donation. Mr. Ford reached into his pocket and gave Martha Berry a dime.

Most people would have been insulted. Seriously, a multi-millionaire, and all he could give her was a dime? But, Martha Berry took that dime and bought a packet of seeds, and she took the seeds and planted a garden, and she raised the crop and sold it and bought more seeds. After three or four harvests she had enough money to purchase an old building for the children. She returned to Mr. Ford and said, “Look what your dime has done.”

Mr. Ford was so impressed that he donated a million dollars to the Martha Berry School for Children.

What is “two cents” worth? Everything. But, then again, that’s just MY  two cents worth!

Until next time, keep looking up…

What to Do When Your Job Stinks!

new-orleans-saints-wallpapersI’m a Saints fan, and sometimes I like to turn down the sound on the TV and turn up the sound on the radio, and listen to the radio broadcast from the Saints broadcasting network. It makes for a much more fan friendly broadcast to listen to the “home” team announcers on game day. I mention that, not because it has anything to do with this blog, but because I love one of the advertisers on game day. It’s River Parish Disposal Company. There’s nothing special about the company, I just love their motto. The motto of River Parish Disposal Company is “Business stinks. But, it’s picking up!”

That motto sums up the ministry of Jesus as we read it in John 11, at least on this day in question. Setting up the scene, Jesus’ friend Lazarus has died. He’s been challenged by his co-workers and the two sisters of his friend, Lazarus. Let’s face it. It’s never a fun day to go to a funeral, and this was after the Jewish leaders had tried to stone him and arrest him. This was a day when Jesus’ job really did stink, and as we read in the text, it didn’t just stink figuratively, it stunk literally. So, what did Jesus do when his job stank? He cried! Sounds like what we do when our job stinks, too. Sounds like what we do when life stinks!

We think tears are something to be avoided. Johnson’s Baby Shampoo even has a “no more tears” formula. Our culture tells us “real men don’t cry,” and our music tells us that “Big Girls Don’t Cry.” But all of us do cry at some point in our lives. We cry at the graveside of a loved one, or at the loss of a job. We cry with a broken heart when a relationship goes bad, or we cry over a sin that overwhelms us. We cry (or we should) when we hurt someone we love, or when someone we loves hurts. As long as we live in this broken world we will experience tears.

Tears are good for us, though. Tears are a way for the body to release harmful bio-chemicals. Biochemist William Frey found in one study that emotional tears–those formed in distress or grief–contained more toxic byproducts than tears of irritation (think onion peeling). Tears remove toxins from our body that build up courtesy of stress. Tears are like a natural therapy or massage session, but they cost a lot less! Additionally, tears release a natural soporific that acts as a tranquilizer to the body. That’s why we’re often tired after a good cry. Any way you look at it, tears are healthy. And, on this day, we get a good look at the fullness of Jesus’ humanity.

We know why we cry, but why did Jesus cry, especially since we know what he was about to do? One reason is simply the deep compassion that Jesus felt for those who were suffering. It is true that Jesus let Lazarus die. He delayed coming. His reasons were good and merciful and glorious, but this didn’t mean Jesus took the suffering it caused lightly. Even though Jesus always chooses what will ultimately bring his Father the most glory—and sometimes, as in Lazarus’ case, it requires affliction and grief—he does not take delight in the affliction and grief itself. Jesus is sympathetic, and as “the image of the invisible God,” in Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus we catch a glimpse of how the Father feels over the affliction and grief we experience.

Another reason Jesus wept was over the power of sin. As God the Son who had come into the world to destroy evil, Jesus was about to deliver death its deathblow. But sin grieves God deeply and so do the wages of sin: death (Romans 6:23). And ever since the fall of Adam and Eve he had endured sin’s horrific destruction. Death had consumed almost every human being he had created. It had taken Lazarus, and it would take him again before it was all over. Tears of anger and longing were mixed with Jesus’ tears of grief.

Another reason was the cost that he was about to pay to purchase not only Lazarus’ short-term resurrection, but his everlasting life. The cross was just days away and no one really knew the inner distress Jesus was experiencing. Lazarus’ resurrection would look and be experienced by Lazarus and everyone else as a gift of grace. But, it was not free. For as much as we see Jesus humanity in this passage, we also see the fullness of his divinity. As a matter of fact, chapter 11 is the turning point in John’s Gospel in the life of Jesus. From this point, Jesus is headed to Jerusalem to die a horrific death. Jesus, who had never known sin, was about to become Lazarus’ sin, and the sin of all who would believe in him, so that in him they would become the righteousness of God. As the writer of Hebrews says, Jesus was looking to the joy that was set before him, but the reality of what lay between was weighing heavily, and it brought tears.

This might also indicate yet another reason Jesus wept—raising Lazarus from the dead would actually set in motion the events that would lead to his own death. Calling Lazarus out of the tomb would have taken a different kind of resolve for Jesus than we might have imagined. Giving Lazarus life was sealing Jesus’ own death.

As I reflect on this encounter in Jesus’ life, there are a few lessons I learn. First, Jesus is angry at the power of sin in our lives. He’s not angry with us—that would be counter to the gospel of grace. He is, however angry with the power that sin holds over us, and that anger is reflected in the words of our text today.

A second lesson I learn is that Jesus is moved by our tears. He cries when we cry. He hurts when we hurt. He suffers when we suffer, and he does so because it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Sin brings suffering. That’s the result of the fall of humanity. Yes, Jesus still gets charged with not doing something about all the suffering. He got charged with it that day, too. He doesn’t set aside our tragedies or sorrows, but he is with us in the midst of the tragedies and sorrows. He walks with us, and brings us comfort.

A third lesson I learn is that tears don’t last forever. Again, our music reminds us that “It Only Hurts for a Little While.” How many oceans could be filled with the tears shed by humanity through all the centuries? And, we stand at the graveside of a loved one and we ask, “Will it always be this way?” We ask, “Is this all there is?” The writer of Ecclesiastes basically says life is suffering, death and then we’re forgotten. But that’s not what the Bible teaches. The Psalmist reminds us “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5), and when that morning comes, “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Revelation 21:4). After all, it was Jesus, on this same day he wept that he said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, yet shall they live” (John 11:25).

Jesus asked Martha if she believed that. He asks us, too. Do we believe that?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Just Answer the Phone…

Perhaps you’ve heard of the book Diffusion of Innovations that describes how new ideas and technologies spread in different cultures. The model describes the adoption or acceptance of a new product or innovation by grouping how different people come to accept the innovation or technology. The first persons to use a new product or technology are called “innovators,” followed by those who are referred to as “early adopters.” Next come the early and late majority, and the last group to eventually adopt a product are called “laggards.” I must admit, when text messaging first came onto the scene, I was a laggard. When it comes to technology, I generally considered myself an early adopter or at least an early majority kind of person, but texting was different. Seriously! Just pick up the phone and call me.

txtSomething changed my mind, though. Want to know what it was? It was my desire to communicate with my daughters. My daughter’s preferred method of communication…their preferred method of staying connected is via text messaging. I would call them and they wouldn’t answer their phones. That was quite irritating, especially when I was paying the bill. Yet, they were constantly on their phones. I soon learned that if I texted them, they’d respond almost immediately. I could call…no answer. Text…boom! Answer right away. It’s how they communicated. Really, though…you’ve got the phone in your hand. Why can’t you just answer the silly thing? That was my reasoning. The only problem is my reasoning didn’t work with them. If I wanted to communicate with my daughters, I was going to have to communicate by their chosen means. I had to become part of the majority, even though I wanted desperately to be a laggard.

Sometimes the church can be a laggard when it comes to the diffusion of innovations. Actually, it doesn’t even have to be an innovation. It may have nothing to do with technology. It may simply be the method in which we communicate the message of salvation in Jesus Christ. Jesus gave the church a fairly specific command to connect with people. He called us to connect with people so that they would become his disciples. It’s called the Great Commission, and we find it in Matthew 28: 18 – 20:

18 Jesus came and told his disciples, “I have been given all authority in heaven and on earth. 19 Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. 20 Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

You’re aware of the seismic shifts that are occurring in culture. Certainly with technology and our attempts at staying connected. The entire Christian faith is about being connected. To be disciples of Jesus Christ we must be connected—first, to Jesus Christ, but then, to his body, the church. We need the fellowship of believers, yet in this culture where connection seems to be so easy, the church lags behind in making disciples.

It might first be helpful to understand discipleship a little better. The word Jesus uses in issuing the Great Commission means “a follower.” It doesn’t simply mean being a student. Someone said a student learns what the teacher knows, but a disciple (a follower) becomes what the teacher is. I wonder (and it’s only wondering) if we’re having such a hard time making disciples because we haven’t become disciples ourselves? We’ve spent a lot of time learning what the Bible has to say, but how much time do we actually spend becoming what Jesus is? I’m preaching to myself, people. Jesus give us a directive to follow. It’s what he did while he was here. It’s pretty simple: go, baptize, teach. There’s an appropriate order, too. It begins with going.

I believe going is the most significant part of the Great Commission. “Go and make disciples…” “Going” to tell others the Good News is not simply shouting “turn or burn” to one outside a relationship with Jesus Christ. It is living life in such a way that others see something different in us. It is to live a life of grace…a life of compassion…a life of hope…a life of forgiveness…a life of reconciliation.

The old cliché is never truer than in matters of faith: People don’t care how much we know until they know how much we care. When we show concern and compassion for others it opens the door for a relationship. Relationship is where transformation takes place. We can never underestimate the power of relationship in the making of disciples. The relationships begin “out there” in the world…in the work place…in the marketplace…on the golf course…in the places where we encounter the people we know.

Each of us has a story to share of what God has done, and is doing in our lives. We must be ready to tell our story…even when we feel our story is insignificant. There is no insignificant story in the Kingdom of God. Not one.

I think I’ve shared with you before why I call Starbucks my satellite office. It’s because I can encounter more unchurched people in an hour at Starbucks than I can by spending forty hours a week in the office. I don’t have many unchurched people stopping by the office to chit-chat. We must go where the people are, and believe you me, there are people at Starbucks. I can’t believe so many people pay so much for coffee! I have my own Starbucks Gold Card, by the way!

If we would connect with people, we must connect with them where they are. We’ve spent far too long expecting people to come to church. Come check us out. Come see what we have going on. Come to worship. The first part of the Great Commission was “go.” Go where they are! This is one place the church plays the part of the laggard. We still want people to come, when all the Lord ever asked us to do was go. I might add that in the future there will be more church happening “out there” where people are than “in here” where we gather each week.

One other place the church plays the laggard, if I may? We lag behind the world in the way we communicate the message. Hear me clearly: the message never changes. The method in which the message is delivered is constantly changing, and unless we change our delivery method, we’ll fail to be effective and fruitful in connecting to others.

Remember, the message I wanted to communicate with my daughters didn’t change. I still told them the same things I was always telling them. I simply had to adopt the method of communication to which they became accustomed. Message the same. Method different.

One of the ways I’ve had to adapt in the church? Shorter sermons. I know! There are some Sundays it doesn’t feel that way, but truly, attention spans have decreased with the innovation of technology. People need a shorter sermon. That means for me to be effective, I have to preach shorter messages.

The message Christ has entrusted to us is a message of forgiveness of sins through faith in Jesus Christ. It is a message of hope and life. It is a message of repentance and reconciliation. It is a message of encouragement and grace. That hasn’t changed in over 2,000 years. With technology rising, and church attendance sagging, the method of communicating that message must change, too.

Let us commit to connect with God, with each other, and with others who are searching for meaning and purpose. Let us commit to be open to connecting with them whenever and wherever they are. Let us commit to connect with them in whatever means is necessary, even if it means sending them a text.

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Picture of Faith…

I signed up for Instagram this week. I’m still learning how to use it, but here’s the purpose as shared on the Instagram website: “Instagram is a fun and quirky way to share your life with friends through a series of pictures. Snap a photo with your mobile phone, then choose a filter to transform the image into a memory to keep around forever. We’re building Instagram to allow you to experience moments in your friends’ lives through pictures as they happen. We imagine a world more connected through photos.”instagram-logo

Instagram is only five years old. It was launched in 2010 by Kevin Systrom and his friend, Mike Krieger. Those two parlayed an initial $500,000 investment into $1 billion when they sold Instagram to Facebook in 2012. Today, there are over 300 million users who are “more connected through photos.”

“A world more connected through photos.” That’s an interesting purpose, especially when we consider the saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” A picture can be worth a thousand words, but sometimes it can be worth ten thousand words. Other times, it cannot be worth the paper it’s printed on…or, should we say the computer it’s posted on. We can try to tell someone of the beauty of our trip to the beach, but if we have a photo as we describe the peacefulness of a pink and orange sunset, the story comes alive. Words carry great meaning, and can describe an event vividly, but put those words to picture and the whole experience changes. We live in a world where both words and pictures are necessary.

Words and pictures. Our words are enhanced, enforced, infused with life when accompanied by a picture. That’s exactly why our faith in Christ is to be more than words. The Apostle James says as much in his letter in the New Testament. He acknowledges that faith and action are two sides of the discipleship coin. One side is faith and the other is actions. Faith always leads to action, or it is no faith. As our faith grows, so grow our actions. Actions grow out of faith. Faith grows as a result of our actions. Or, to use the Instagram analogy—faith is our words, but our actions become the picture through which we show the world our faith. Our actions are worth a thousand words.

WALK_INTL_1SHT_TSR_LK2_3DIMX3D_02.inddThe new movie, The Walk, came out last Friday. The movie tells the true story of French high wire artist Phillipe Petit, and of his walk on a tight rope between the twin towers of the World Trade Center on August 7, 1974. Long before Petit attempted that feat, another Frenchman had already crossed the great Niagara Falls on a tightrope. His name was Charles Blondin. Blondin crossed Niagara Falls on several occasions. On one occasion, he was holding a press conference before his walk, and he turned to his large audience, which included numerous reporters from various newspapers, and he asked them, “How many believe I can walk across this tightrope over the Falls pushing a wheelbarrow?”

People cheered loudly. They were sure Blondin could do it.  Then he asked, “How many believe I can push a wheelbarrow across the tightrope with a man sitting in it?”  Again, there was a loud response.

Blondin then pointed to one of the most enthusiastic men in the audience, and said, “Okay, you get into the wheelbarrow.” The man made a hasty exit.

Blondin demonstrated that there is often a great difference between belief, the faith we SAY we have, and the action faith we really have. The measure of our faith is NOT our “talk” it is our “walk.” Faith is what we do. It is not what we say we will do. Faith is never something simply to be talked about. Faith is something that must be demonstrated in the way we live.  Paul Harvey once said, “If you don’t live it, you don’t really believe it.” That’s exactly what James was saying when he said, “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works” (James 2:18).

When we talk about connections, we acknowledge that Christ has given us the perfect way to demonstrate our faith…to connect our faith and our actions. It’s called the church. We are called to serve one another, and when I say service, I mean service to the body of Christ and service through the body of Christ. It’s in our service to the body of Christ that we learn to love one another. It’s our service through the body of Christ that we connect with those in our community—those who perhaps have never known the saving grace of God in Jesus Christ. That very connection may be the open door through with they walk to express their own faith, which can then be lived in their actions as the Holy Spirit transforms them.

It all begins with Jesus, though. Our relationship with Jesus is where our faith begins and our passion rises. Encountering Jesus moves us to action. One day a young disciple of Jesus, desiring to best disciple he could be, visited the home of an elderly saint. He had heard that this old man had never lost his first love for Christ over all his years. The elderly man was sitting on the porch with his dog watching a beautiful sunset.

he young man asked this question: “Why is it that so many Christians passionately chase after God during the first year or so after they come to faith, but then fall into the complacency of just going to church once in a while, and they end up not looking any different than those who aren’t even Christians? I have heard you’re not like that.”

The old man smiled and replied, “Let me tell you a story. One day I was sitting here quietly in the sun with my dog. Suddenly, a large rabbit ran across the field in front of us. Well, my dog jumped up, and took off after that big rabbit. He chased the rabbit over the hills with a passion.

“Soon, other dogs joined him, attracted by his barking. What a sight it was. That pack of dogs ran barking across the creeks, up stony embankments and through thickets and thorns! Gradually, however, one by one, the other dogs dropped out of the pursuit, discouraged by the course and frustrated by the chase. Only my dog continued the pursuit of the rabbit.”

The old man continued, “The answer to your question lies in that story.”

The young man sat in confused silence. Finally, he said, “Sir, I don’t understand. What is the connection between a rabbit chase and the quest for God?”

“You don’t understand,” answered the old man, “because you didn’t ask the obvious question. Why didn’t the other dogs continue in the chase?”

“I don’t know,” said the young man.

“Because the other dogs hadn’t seen the rabbit,” came the old man’s reply.

My friends, unless we see the prize, the chase is just too difficult. The life of a disciple is a difficult life demanding faith that leads to actions. Unless we put our eyes on Jesus, we’ll lack the passion to keep up the chase. Unless we put our eyes on Jesus, we’ll never have faith that leads to actions. We’ll never have any photos to post on Instagram that reflect the depth of our faith.

Until next time, keep looking up…

I’m No Saint!…

new-orleans-saints-wallpapersSometimes, a guy just has to vent. That’s all I’m doing, and it’s proof positive that I’m not the perfect pastor.

I love football, and I love the New Orleans Saints, but today was as embarrassed as I’ve ever been as a Saints fan (and I was a Saints fan in 1980). The Saints just stunk up the place…and, that’s all I have to say about that!

Well, not really. I’ll say more because I’m not done venting. So, here’s what I saw today:

  • Drew Bress, though he’s a tick behind his MVP performances of the past, still has some game left in him (even when he’s hurt). Brees hurt is still better than three-fourths of the quarterbacks in the league.
  • Brees can’t win games alone…even when he’s healthy.
  • This is perhaps the worst offensive line the Saints have had in the Sean Payton era. And, they traded Jimmy Graham to bolster this offensive line.
  • Without an offensive line, there will be no running game. Though Mark Ingram has shown flashes of brilliance, he still has not made a statement to indicate he is a premier runner. Khiry Robinson is a great second back, which makes me wonder why he’s not the first back, but…
  • C. J. Spiller is perhaps the best non-stater in the NFL. I can’t figure out why his name is not called more often.
  • Marques Colston is in the winter of his career. He’s dropping too many passes to be the number one receiver. He’s been great, but in the NFL it’s not “What have you done for me in the past?” It’s “What are you doing for me today?” Brandin Cooks may one day step up to take Colston’s place, but it’s hard for a 5’10” guy to take the place of a 6’4″ guy.
  • This is the worst defensive line the Saints have had in the Sean Payton era. They pressured Sam Bradford so little in the game against the Eagles that Bradford looked like a premier quarterback. He’s not. He’s better than me, but that ain’t saying much!
  • Two bright spots for the defense: Stephone Anthony and Hau’oli Kikaha. They’ll be strong defensive contributors as they gain experience. The problem will be keeping them long term. Drew’s salary is going to bite the Saints in the butt at some point, and some of that young talent will have to be sacrificed for the salary cap.
  • The defensive secondary is somewhat improved. Delvin Breaux, once he gets the CFL out of his system, will be a solid addition. Getting Jairus Byrd back should be helpful, as well, but when the secondary is making as many tackles as the Saints secondary, it points back to the defensive line.
  • Rob Ryan is still on the coaching staff. Enough said.
  • I’m wondering how much Roger Goddell paid the officiating crew to call all those ticky-tacky penalties on the Saints? That was an incredible display of terrible officiating, and if there was ever a season the Saints didn’t need that help, well, this is the one.

There’s probably more I could say, but I think I’ve vented enough now. The fact that I could provide such a litany of problems points to a larger problem. The buck will eventually stop on Sean Payton’s desk. I understand the Miami Dolphins are inquiring about talking to Payton to fill their empty head coaching job. Maybe it’s time for the Saints to allow Payton to talk to them. The Saints have not been the same team since “BountyGate,” and yes, the NFL owes Sean Payton and the Saints a major apology after “Deflategate,” but still, it might be time for a change for the Saints and for Payton.

Oh, sorry, I started venting again. Anyway…

In the grand scheme of life, no one will care who won this football game, and no one will really care how good or bad the Saints were in the 2015 season. There’s nothing life changing about it, period. But, it matters to me TODAY, and you’re getting my love and my frustration all in one fell swoop. That’s just the way it is, and that’s why I’m really not the perfect pastor, nor am I the perfect person. Heck, I’m not even the perfect Saints fan.

I’m done now…

Until next time, keep looking up…

Following Who?

In the digital world, it’s all about being connected. We can be connected with our smart devices and computers to over 900 social media apps. We’re familiar with Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, Pinterest, LinkedIn and Vine. There are others we may not be so familiar with, but in this digital age, the worst thing we can be is disconnected. Here’s the interesting thing, though. The more connected we become digitally, the more disconnected we become literally. Here’s an example: Last Sunday, I’m sitting at my mother’s house watching the Saints (no comments please), and my brother, my brother’s son-in-law and my son are all sitting on the couch—not talking to each other, but all checking their smart phones for the latest update on their “fantasy” football teams. We can’t even watch real football for checking out our fantasy teams! We’re disconnected in a connected world.

alltwitter-twitter-bird-logo-white-on-blueOne of the most popular social media platforms is Twitter. Twitter is a free social networking service that allows registered members to broadcast short posts called tweets. Twitter members can broadcast tweets (limited to 140 characters) and “follow” other users’ tweets. There are 974 million people with Twitter accounts worldwide, and 52.7 million in the U. S. That’s a pretty hefty number.

Twitter is about followers and following. You “follow” someone, and someone “follows” you. That means every time I post a “tweet” it goes out into the “Twitterverse” for all the world to see, but especially to those who have chosen to “follow” me. And, every time someone I’m following “tweets,” it shows up on my Twitter page. In case you’re interested, here are the top three Twitter accounts:

  1. Katy Perry 76 million followers
  2. Justin Bieber 67 million followers
  3. Barack Obama 64 million followers

Personally, I tweet @revlynnmalone, and I have 125 followers. Followers and following—it’s what Twitter is all about.

Following on Twitter is easy. Simply click a button on the app. Yes, following is easy, but it has no real impact on our lives. The fact that Katy Perry posts photos of her in the mountains of Machu Picchu makes no difference in the grand scheme of my life. The danger for us is that we too often see following Jesus with the same philosophy. We think it’s great to follow Jesus, but we don’t give much thought to what it means. What difference does it make to say we’re following Jesus?

It really wasn’t much different in Jesus’ day. Jesus had many followers who were simply catching the latest fad. We read in John’s Gospel in chapter 6 about a group who, John says, “went back and walked with him no more” (6:66). He offered those followers some challenging words, and they decided it just wasn’t for them. They weren’t willing to go the distance. They left and Jesus looked at Peter and asked, “Will you go away, too?” It was then that Peter said, “To whom would we go…and we’ve come to believe you are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Interestingly, in Luke 9, Peter makes the same confession about Jesus and when he does, Jesus says, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must put aside your selfish ambition, shoulder your cross daily, and follow me.”

Being a disciple is not simply saying we will follow Christ. It is believing something specific about Jesus that changes our lives. We must know who Christ is before we will even consider following him because if we don’t believe who he is, we won’t be willing to do what he asks us to do. Our love for Christ is directly related to our understanding of who he is. If we understand who Christ is, we will run to him and leave everything else behind. He is faithful and loving and he cares for us more than we can ever know. But we must never forget that he is our Creator and that we are dependent upon him for our next breath and heartbeat. He is God and we are not, and if we will follow him, he asks only two things: 1) self-denial, and 2) self-sacrifice.

Jesus didn’t want any misunderstanding about what discipleship costs. He said, “Deny yourself.” The call to follow Christ is a call to a transformed life. It’s like Paul said to the Corinthian Christians: “What this means is that those who become Christians become new persons. They are not the same anymore, for the old life is gone. A new life has begun” (2 Cor. 5:17). But the call to self-denial is such a radical call. That’s the thing about most social media…including Twitter…it’s so self-centered. Most of the posts we post are focused on the events and attitudes of our lives. We live in a selfie world where one of the top selling gifts last Christmas was the “selfie stick.” Even our President was seen with his new selfie stick! Denying ourselves mean we give up the selfie stick…get the focus off ourselves…and put the focus on Christ, and on others.

Denying self is seldom a dramatic or high profile act, but it is often demanding. It demands we understand that our faith is about far more than our own personal well-being. It is about obeying God and loving humanity.

Secondly, there’s this whole thing about “taking up our cross.” That’s about self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice and self-denial are close cousins. Jesus knew what it meant to take up the cross. He was headed toward Jerusalem and knew what awaited him there. He told his disciples as much. William Barclay tells us that when Jesus was about eleven, Judas the Galilaean led a rebellion against Rome. He had raided the royal armory at Sepphoris, which was only four miles from Nazareth. The Roman vengeance was swift and sudden. Sepphoris was burned to the ground; its inhabitants were sold into slavery; and two thousand of the rebels were crucified on crosses which were set in lines along the road as a warning to others tempted to rebel. To take up our cross means to be prepared to face things like that for loyalty to Jesus; it means to be ready to endure the worst the world can do to us for the sake of being true to him.

For us today, who don’t have a transformative understanding of the image Jesus paints for his disciples, taking up our cross means walking against the grain of cultural values, so that our needs take a back seat to God’s call. Bearing a cross means leaving behind dreams we had in our old life, for new dreams in a new life—a world transformed by the power and glory of God in Jesus Christ.

Our biggest problem is we look at self-denial and self-sacrifice from a negative perspective. What do I mean? Imagine a situation where a homeless man is begging on the streets of New York. A well-dressed man in a long limousine pulls up next to him and offers him a job as vice-president of his company. That seems ludicrous; nothing like that would ever happen. But that is exactly what God has done for us. He rescued us from the gutter. We were homeless and he gave us a new home. We were the rejects of the world, but he gave us self-respect. We had nothing, but he gave us everything. He asks us to be a part of his kingdom and work for it.

But, suppose the homeless man sneers at him and rejects the offer for several reasons. First, he will have to give up what is familiar to him. Obviously, it is a terrible life, but it is the only life he knows how to live. Secondly, he has a few possessions which he pushes around in a cart, and the few clothes he owns are on his back. And one of the conditions the man in the limousine makes is that the man must leave everything and get into the limousine. The third reason is that the man will actually have to work and accept responsibility. Life on the street was bad, but at least no one expected anything from him. No one expected him to be any different. So he turns from the man in the expensive suit and shuffles down the street hoping for a warm grate that he can sleep on for the night.

Does the man in the story understand what he has given up? He would have had a home, a job, a purpose, a great bank account, and a high position in an important business. But he passed it up to keep what he had. This is why Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” Dallas Willard reminds us that if we are going to talk about the cost of discipleship, we ought to balance it by talking about the cost of non-discipleship.

We are like the homeless man. When Christ comes to ask us to die to ourselves and give up our old life, we refuse. We think about all the stuff in our cart that you will have to give up. We may be miserable, but at least we are used to it, and we know how to get by. We are not sure we would know what to do if we really died to your old life. Besides, change is hard work. We don’t want the responsibility of following Christ fully. We fail to understand that you we’re in line to inherit the business. We’re not merely a partner, we’re an heir. The reason we were selected was that the man in the limousine, unknown to us, was really our father who searched until he found us. He wanted to call us more than vice-president; he wanted to call us son and daughter.

He calls us to follow him so that he might change us, to make us different in the world than we were before we came to know him. He calls us to follow him where he leads. In his leading, he transform us to be more like him, and he reminds us that discipleship is a full-time job, not a weekend hobby. Following Jesus never takes a holiday. We take up the cross daily…multiple times daily. We must be as diligent following Christ as we are posting those tweets to Twitter. That’s when true transformation takes place.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Questions with No Answers (Four Lessons on Trials)…

Dr. James Dobson wrote a book in 1997 entitled When God Doesn’t Make Sense. The book was written for anyone struggling with trials and heartaches—the death of a loved one, disease, divorce, rejection—in the hopes of understanding the meaning of suffering in the world. He takes the reader through eleven chapters until he reaches his conclusion. It’s the conclusion we’re all looking for when it comes to hardships, trials and heartaches in this life. You know his conclusion? “I don’t know.” Eleven chapters, and he finally gets to point—I don’t know.questions and answers

It’s the same answer I give when I’m asked any of the following questions:

  • Why do we go through trials?
  • Why do we face hardships?
  • Why is there suffering in the world?
  • Why does God allow evil?

With all my theological training, the best answer I can give is, “I don’t know.” There is a verse of scripture that is often quoted when trials come. It’s Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (NKJV). Too often, we do with that verse what we do with so many other verses. We take a single verse and form a deep theological answer to a complex issue. Oh, that it were so easy. It leads us to a shaky theology that fails us in times of hardships and difficulties. Scripture is like real estate. In real estate, three things are important: location, location and location. Well, in scripture, three things are important: context, context and context. If we want to understand “all things work together for good,” we have to understand all of what Paul was saying.

If we want to know what Paul meant when he wrote “all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purposes,” we have to understand the verses around it, and we have to understand where it fits in the entirety of the letter he wrote to the Romans. I just would like to know, “Is God working in all this mess of a life of mine?”

The answer, for Paul and for us, is, “Yes.” Paul was no stranger to suffering; his several near-death experiences, beatings, imprisonments, and persecutions were enough to eradicate any “pie-in-the-sky” attitude that might have lurked in his heart. In the immediate context, Paul lists some qualifiers for the good to take place: “we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28, NET Bible). Paul is not giving this promise to all people, but only to those “who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

But what does this mean? Those who love God are, in this context, Christians, because they are called according to God’s purpose. We have to be careful to not say, “As long as you love God, things work out; but whenever you are not loving God, things do not work out for your good.” That’s bad theology. No, if we have faith in Christ, then all means all. Immediately after, Paul speaks of our conformity to Christ, our glorification, as the inevitable outcome of those who love God. And that is not dependent on how much we love God but on the finished work of Christ on the cross. Paul concludes this chapter by making explicit that nothing can separate us from the love of God (vv. 38-39), and by implication, that would include even our temporary lapses in our love for the Savior.

What, then, is the good? The good is conformity to Christ! Ultimately, Paul says, all things work together to bring each of us into conformity to Christ, to bring each of us to glory. Not only is Paul talking about all circumstances, but he’s also talking about all those who believe in Christ. Paul does not say “some of those” or even “most of those” when describing each stage of the salvation journey. From calling to glorification, no one who loves God misses the boat.

Great theology, preacher, but I need practicality. How do these trials and hardships work for good? Okay, here are four lessons to remember about trials.

  1. Trials are a short term reality. I love the theology of the unlettered maid who was great in the kitchen and an immaculate housekeeper, but her main strength was that she was never ruffled by anything. She was always calm and in control. When asked about her secret, she quoted a verse in the Bible: “It came to pass.” When told that this was not the complete verse she replied, “It is for me. It means that whatever comes, comes to pass. It doesn’t come to stay.” We may have short-term pain, but it’s working out a long-term gain. It’s like when we’re sick. We go to the doctor because we trust the doctor knows what he/she is doing. The doctor prescribes the treatment, and it’s painful or unpleasant, but it’s necessary for our ultimate healing. We have to endure a little more pain before we’re better. As followers of Jesus Christ, the better for us is God’s glory, and this short-term pain is working toward a long-term gain.
  1. Trials give us proper perspective. If we never had bad experiences, how would we know to appreciate the good experiences? Our problem is we interpret everything from our human, materialistic perspective. The good is not our comfort or wealth, or even our good health. The good is God’s glory. Part of my daily routine is a short devotional called Our Daily Bread. It recently had a neat prayer that read, “Lord, it is easy to let my circumstances change how I understand You. Help me to remember that You are good and faithful, even though I can’t see everything and may not understand how You are working.
  2. Trials keep us forward-focused. We may see nothing good come of misery and disaster in this world, but this world is not all of reality. There is an ‘until’; there is a place beyond the horizon of what our senses can apprehend, and it is more real and more lasting than what we experience in this life. God is using the present, even the miserable present, to conform us to the image of his Son. If we define the good as only what we can see in this life, then we have missed the whole point of this text. For, as Paul said earlier in this same chapter, “For I consider that our present sufferings cannot even be compared to the glory that will be revealed to us” (Rom 8:18, NET). For Western Christians (especially American Christians), we are prone to think if our lives are comfortable, if we have wealth, good health, that is fine and well. But that is not the good that Paul had in mind, and it is not the goal of the Christian life. The famous preacher D.L. Moody told about a Christian woman who was always bright, cheerful, and optimistic, even though she was confined to her room because of illness. She lived in an attic apartment on the fifth floor of an old, rundown building. A friend decided to visit her one day and brought along another woman—a person of great wealth. Since there was no elevator, the two ladies began the long climb upward. When they reached the second floor, the well-to-do woman commented, “What a dark and filthy place!” Her friend replied, “It’s better higher up.” When they arrived at the third landing, the remark was made, “Things look even worse here.” Again the reply, “It’s better higher up.” The two women finally reached the attic level, where they found the bedridden saint of God. A smile on her face radiated the joy that filled her heart. Although the room was clean and flowers were on the window sill, the wealthy visitor could not get over the stark surroundings in which this woman lived. She blurted out, “It must be very difficult for you to be here like this!” Without a moment’s hesitation the shut-in responded, “It’s better higher up.” She was not looking at temporal things. With the eye of faith fixed on the eternal, she had found the secret of true satisfaction and contentment.
  1. Trials help us experience God’s presence. Again, Paul gives us the practical over the theological when he reminds us in 8:26: “And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.” As long as we trust, there are times we go through circumstances we don’t know how we got through them. We might say a person had a strong will or a strong character, but it was really the Holy Spirit interceding for them when they couldn’t pray, or didn’t know what to pray. And, God’s grace was provided in just the right measure at just the right time to meet the need. The Psalmist proclaimed, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me…” (Psalm 23).

“Well, pastor, you haven’t given me my spiritual ‘happy pill’ this morning.” No, sorry, I haven’t, but Romans 8:28 was never meant to be that—although it has been used as such. “So, give me a little hope, please. After all, I don’t want to be like the young man who went to the fortune-teller. She looked at his palm and said, ‘You’ll be poor and very unhappy until you’re 37 years old’.”

“What’ll happen then,” the young man asked? “Will I be rich and happy?”

“No,” the fortune-teller replied, “you’ll still be poor, but you’ll be used to it by then.”

Where do we find hope in the midst of the pain? Paul answers that, too. Paul closes this most beautiful passage of scripture with these words:

37 No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. 39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

All our hope is in Jesus Christ. All our life is in Jesus Christ. All our glory is found in trusting Jesus Christ. For Paul, all means all. Theologically, I can’t explain it, but practically, I can face all things because of the One who gave it all for me.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Reflecting on Rest (Three Reasons to take a Vacation)…

vanessas beach picIt seems a bit self-serving to reflect on reasons to take a vacation (especially while one is on vacation), and it also seems a bit counter-productive to write a blog while on vacation (isn’t writing a blog considered work?). So, you see the bind people find themselves in when they take vacation? Especially in the “helping” professions, the line between work and rest become incredibly blurred.

My lines have not been quite so blurry this week. I’ve managed a decent week on disconnecting. I’ve only checked work emails a couple of times (one way to avoid doing so is un-sync your phone from your work email), and I’ve only responded to a couple of work related emails. I’ve managed to spend some very relaxing days with my toes in the sand. It’s been a pretty good week…if I do say so myself.

Pastors are notorious for not taking enough vacation. That shouldn’t be surprising. It simply means pastors are a lot like other Americans. The Huffington Post reported that 40% of Americans don’t take all their vacation. 40%! That’s a large number. There are probably a lot of reasons that number is so high, not the least of which is that not many people can afford to “go” on vacation. I know I can’t afford (monetarily speaking) to be away from home four weeks a year. I rather think it has more to do with our need to be needed…which is all the more reason to take the vacation.

“All the more reason to take the vacation…” Because I’m on vacation, let me be brief and offer three reasons it’s important to take the vacation time each of us is given.beach view

HUMILITY

As paradoxical as this may be to say, vacation is not ultimately about you. Resting is ultimately about our dependence on our creator. It is an acknowledgement on our part that we are weak and limited. It’s a confession, especially for us pastors, that we’re not the answer to all our church’s issues. Additionally, rest is a great way to break the “works righteousness” mentality. Rest allows us to better understand the theology of grace.

Moreover, rest is as much for those around us. Rest is a gift to our families, especially our spouses. Sure, we might not need a vacation, but our spouse and our children do! Don’t our families deserve as much of us as the world does? Yes, ministry is a calling, but so is being a good spouse and parent.

Taking a vacation is an excellent reminder of our ultimate expendability. That’s really not a fun think to think about, but the reality is that when we’re away, the world keeps right on turning. Tasks get completed without you. Yes, I know. There will be a pile waiting on my desk when I get back…but…they are “waiting.” Nothing earth-shattering happened because you weren’t there to take care of a task.

HEALTH

Vacations lower stress and reduce anxiety (unless you’re one of those rare persons who stresses out because of all the work they’re missing). We need to take a lesson from professional athletes who routinely “recover” between training sessions. We can only push our minds and our bodies so far without them breaking. The tighter the rubber band is wound, the more likely it is to snap. Time off and vacations are some of the healthiest things we can do. And, it’s biblical, too. God built rest into the rhythm of life. There’s a reason He did. (Read more about rest here).

work-vacation-policy-pop_3122Vacations also promote health within the organizations we lead. Vacation by the leader of the organization provides a positive example to staff of the importance of maintaining a proper work/life balance. Additionally, it frees up staff to creatively manage in the leaders absence. In churches, it also empowers the laity to embrace their own gifts for ministry as laity step up to fill roles usually reserved for their clergy leaders. Who knows? A pastor’s vacation may be the very vehicle God uses to allow someone to discern God’s call to ministry in their own life. I’d say that was a pretty healthy thing.

CREATIVITY

Routine tasks stifle creativity. That’s why it’s called “getting in a rut.” When the mind relaxes, it begins to function in a more creative way. Imagine…getting away from work may be the very thing that frees up the creative juices so you can solve that pesky problem that’s been hindering you at work (see…another paradox). I’ve always had a hard time writing sermons or preparing bible studies when in the office. It’s when I’m away from the “routine” of work that creativity is spawned.

Yeah, I know…it’s not a deep reflection…but, hey…I’m on vacation. You can’t really expect me to think too deeply, can you? Maybe you’ll find these three reasons helpful in encouraging you to take your own vacation.

Until next time, keep looking up…

2,500 Miles in the Wrong Direction…

If I might use the superlative “great” in reference to the AMC series Breaking Bad, I don’t think it would be out of place. Breaking Bad was a great series with great characters, a great storyline, great actors, great dialogue, great drama and a great and tragic ending. That’s a lot of “greats,” isn’t it? One great scene that sticks in my mind is the last episode of the series. Walt and Jesse, his former partner in crime, stand face to face, and Walt is just ready for his life to end, and he taunts Jesse to do the deed. It’s a great ending to a great story.
jonah3The ending to the series Breaking Bad is so incredibly similar to the scene in which the Old Testament prophet, Jonah, finds himself at the end of the book (Read Jonah 4 here). I think I can use the same superlative “great” to describe Jonah’s story. As a matter of fact, the author of the book of Jonah uses the word “great” no less than fifteen times in the fifty-eight verses of the book. There is a “great” city. There is a “great” wind and a “great” storm. There are sailors with “great” fear. There are “great” people. God is “greatly” displeased, and there is “great” calamity. There is also “great” joy, and we must never forget there was a “great” fish that was part of Jonah’s story. We find Jonah sitting outside the city of Nineveh wishing for his life to end. Jonah is angry, and he challenges God to just kill him, already! If anyone ever needed an “attitude adjustment,” it was Jonah. So, how did Jonah get there?

Jonah was one of the “minor” prophets of the Old Testament. He’s best known for being swallowed up by a great fish, but there’s more to the story than that. Jonah’s journey begins when God calls him to “go down to Nineveh and preach.” But, Jonah didn’t want to go to Nineveh, and he certainly didn’t want to preach to them.

What does Jonah do? He hops a ship and goes 2,500 miles in the opposite direction. He wants to get as much water between he and the city of Nineveh as he can. God calls, and Jonah doesn’t answer, “Here I am, Lord, send me.” He put it in high gear and hightailed it to a place called Tarshish.

It is Jonah’s hightailing response you are most familiar with. You may remember that when he hopped that ship that God went with him, and the story goes there was a great wind and a great storm so that everyone on the ship thought they would perish. Jonah slept through the storm until finally the captain woke him up and challenged him to pray to his god for deliverance as all the other sailors were doing. Jonah eventually admits that he’s the cause of the storm and implores the sailors to throw him overboard to save themselves. Very noble wouldn’t you say? See, it’s not that Jonah is unconcerned for people in general. It’s just the Ninevites that he has a problem with. He was thrown overboard by the sailors and was swallowed by a “great” fish. Three days and three nights of severe indigestion caused the fish to vomit Jonah out onto dry land, and wouldn’t you know, it was on the same seashore from which he left. Right back where he started from, and still confronted by God’s call to “go to Nineveh and preach.” So, what’s a guy to do standing on the seashore smelling of fish? “Alright,” Jonah says, “I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.”

Jonah goes to Nineveh, which is so large that it takes three days to cross it (that’s about sixty miles for those of us with pick-up trucks). Jonah arrives on the edge of the city and begins to deliver the shortest sermon in history—one sentence—five words in the Hebrew and eight in the English translation: “Forty days from now, Nineveh will be destroyed.” There are no flowery speeches, no illustrations, no three points and a poem. Short, sweet and to the point.

Someone said, “There’s no such thing as a bad short sermon.” That’s not true! I’ve heard some bad, short sermons. Jonah’s, however, was a great short sermon. It was great, not because it was short, but because it was effective. Jonah didn’t get a third of the way across the city before the people of Nineveh started repenting. They started putting on sackcloth and ashes, and what’s more, even the animals felt the power of Jonah’s message. Even the King, who heard the message second-hand, was touched and commanded the whole kingdom repent and turn to God. WOW! Billy Graham had nothing on Jonah! The problem was that such rousing success only served to make Jonah angry.

Jonah was reluctant to go to Nineveh because the Ninevites were the mortal enemies of Israel at this time in their history. The Assyrians were known for their extreme cruelty to the captors, and Israel had experienced that cruelty often during the years of the minor prophets (circa the 5 – 8th centuries B.C.). Assyrian records brag of live dismemberment wherein the victims were often left with only one hand so the Assyrian attacker could shake it before the person died. Another practice was making parades of heads, requiring friends of the deceased to carry them elevated on poles. Jonah really had no desire to go to Nineveh for obvious reasons. He might well have expected to be arrested, tortured, or become training fodder for the Assyrian army until they got tired of him, and led him through the city streets to hang as an act of national pride and unity.

Not only were the Assyrians enemies, but they were Gentile enemies. Do you know how much the Hebrews hated Gentiles? The daily prayer of the Hebrew man was to thank God they were not born slave, female or Gentile. The Gentiles were not God’s chosen people. They were not special like the Israelites. Surely, Jonah didn’t expect that God really wanted him to go to Nineveh?

Actually, Jonah knew that’s exactly what God wanted him to do. Jonah refused to go to Nineveh, literally went 2,500 miles in the wrong direction, was swallowed and vomited out by a great fish before he finally consented to go because, in his own words, “I knew that you were a gracious and compassionate God.” Imagine! Jonah’s bad attitude is because of God’s grace and mercy, and it’s so bad that it throws him into such a deep depression that he despairs his own life.

“I knew you’d relent, Lord.” “I knew you’d save them, Lord, and I just didn’t really want you to do that!” “They deserve to die for their wickedness and evil ways!” Imagine Jonah saying that, and never stopping for one moment to consider the same gracious and compassionate God had saved him from the belly of a fish not many days before.

In his anger, Jonah leaves the city and sets up camp on the off chance that the Ninevites show their true colors and revert to their evil ways, or God might wise up and destroy them anyway. Underneath his little brush arbor, God decides to give Jonah an attitude adjustment. A vine grows and provides shade for Jonah. “Ah, cool,” he thought, but the next day, a worm comes and destroys the vine while a scorching wind begins to blow. “Awe, man! Just let me die!” exclaims Jonah.

But, God said, “You’re angry because a vine died, and yet you didn’t make it grow or tend it?” The Lord continued, “Look Jonah, there’s a city down there with 120,000 people that I care about, not to mention the animals. You should care about them.” God lets him know that he misses the point totally.

Jonah’s attitude is laughable if it didn’t sound so familiar. A gracious and compassionate God—what a depressing thought! Until, of course, we are confronted with our own enemies and we come face to face with the realization that the same God who is gracious and compassionate to us seeks to be gracious and compassionate to them, too. As those called to follow Christ, we must put feet to our faith, and that is where the rub comes, especially when we realize the desire of God’s heart is to use us as vessels of His grace and compassion even to our enemies.

How do we do that? Listen to what Jesus told his disciples in the Sermon on the Mount:

43 “You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. 44 But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!45 In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.    Matthew 5: 43 – 45 (NLT)

Loving our enemies may never be easy, and our attempts to avoid doing so (though probably not met with encounters with great, stinky fish) will always be met by God’s persistent call to obedience. Giving up deeply held resentments will be the hardest part, but our failure to do so will likely result in heaping anguish and pain on ourselves—not the least of which might be depression not unlike that which Jonah faced. That’s the attitude we need to break. We need God’s attitude to be our attitude. We need to see God’s perspective. Otherwise, we’ll just keep running 2,500 miles in the wrong direction.

A gracious and compassionate God! What a depressing thought!

Until next time, keep looking up…

A “Tragic Mess of a Life”…

I wrote a sermon a couple of weeks ago that included the line “a tragic mess of a life.” I must say that’s one of the best lines I’ve ever come up with. Perhaps I think it’s such a good line because it could so easily describe my own life. It certainly describes the life of Walter White of Breaking Bad, the AMC series. Certainly, Walt was dealt a crummy hand in life, but his bad decisions lead to his own “tragic mess of a life.”

tragedyI can’t think of a “tragic mess of a life” without thinking of Samson, the last in Israel’s line of judges. If you’re like me you remember Samson from Sunday school, and you probably remember him as a hero for killing a lot of Philistines. Samson was held up as a role model for his dedication to God in being willing to follow God all the way to death. As I reflect upon the story of Samson, I’ve come to believe he’s much more a victim of his own decisions than he is a victim of faithful discipleship. There is much about Samson’s story we didn’t hear in Sunday school. His is a tragic story that ends with Samson dealing with the consequences of his own decisions.

Hollywood has nothing on the Bible. In Samson’s story we find supernatural events, intrigue, deception, humor (lots of humor), lust, sex, murder, revenge and obsession, and we find most of it in Samson himself. We read the end of his story and discover he is blind, in prison and being shamed by his captors, the Philistines. In one last heroic act, he cries out to God in prayer to give him strength one more time so he can take revenge on these pagan Philistines. And, God hears his prayer, and amazingly answers him, and Samson, in one final show of strength pushes the pillars of the temple over. The roof falls, crushing everyone in the temple, including Samson, and everyone on the roof of the temple.

Samson’s story begins in Judges 13 with his miraculous birth. His nameless, barren mother is visited by an Angel of the Lord who announced she would have a son (that sounds vaguely familiar), and that he would be dedicated to the Lord as a Nazirite from birth, and he would be the rescuer of Israel from their Philistine oppressors. She named the child Samson which means “sunshine.” If we follow the history of the nation of Israel, we discover the time of the judges are some of the darkest times in its history. God sends “sunshine” in these dark times.

So what is it with this Nazirite vow? Numbers 6 outlines the vows a person had to take to become a Nazirite, and there were three: 1) Drink no wine, nor eat any fruit that grew on a vine, 2) Refrain from touching anything dead, and 3) Never cut your hair for as long as you are under the vow.

Samson grows into a young man, and we are told that “the Lord blessed him as he grew up.” What we hear about in Sunday school is Samson’s strength. We hear about how he slew a lion with his bare hands. What we don’t hear about is that he later returned to the carcass of that lion, and took honey from the bees who had taken residence there, thus breaking one of his Nazirite vows. For some reason, the Sunday school teachers also didn’t tell us that happened while he was in the process of getting married. Nor, do we hear about the woman he jilted and left at the altar after a sumptuous wedding feast, and that feast would include wine, and lots of it. We’re talking gallons here, not bottles. One more time, Samson breaks his vows. And, they neglected to tell us about Samson’s temper that provokes him to kill 30 innocent bystanders at his own wedding so he can settle a gambling debt.

We hear about how he killed 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey, but we don’t hear that he killed the 1,000 after he’d been arrested for hunting down 300 foxes, setting their tails on fire, and turning them loose in the grain fields of the people who had done him wrong. They never told us, either, that he broke his Nazirite vow in the act.

We hear about the vixen Delilah who seduces him into telling her the secret of his strength, and we hear of her cutting his hair off, but we don’t hear of his on-going weakness for immoral women. Yes, we hear how, by brute strength, he ripped out the city gates of the Philistine city of Gaza, and carried all 700 pounds of it nearly forty miles to Hebron, but we don’t hear that he was visiting a prostitute at the time. Even though we don’t hear these stories, they are all in Judges 13 – 16. In total, it covers a 20 year period in Israel’s history. We don’t hear them, I think, because in that 20 year period of time, Samson doesn’t do one thing, not one thing to honor or glorify God. Everything he does, he does for his own glory, for his own satisfaction, for his own desires. And, that’s really tragic.

Samson’s is a cautionary tale for us. We encounter Samson at the end of his life in blindness. But, that’s really how he lived his entire life. He was blind to God’s will for his life. He was blind to his sin. He was blind to his need for repentance. He was blind to the consequences of his decisions. He was blinded by his own arrogance and pride. Former NFL coach Eric Mangini. Mangini said, “With confidence you believe you can overcome your weaknesses, with arrogance you don’t believe you have weaknesses.” Samson was arrogant, and his arrogance defeated him.
 

It’s also serves to caution us that an outpouring of the Holy Spirit does not automatically make us godly. The Holy Spirit gives us the resources to live godly lives, but He doesn’t “do it to us.” We can be wonderfully gifted by the Holy Spirit and yet spiritually, we remain infants. We still have decisions to make, and every gift we have is in our own hands. It remains for us to have our passions under proper discipline, and the fear of God continually before our eyes. We must not think for one moment that our disobedience, our selfishness, or our sin will derail God’s plan. God used even Samson, in all his “tragic mess of a life,” to drive a wedge between the Israelites and the Philistines. That was necessary. King David would complete what Samson started some 50 years later.

God calls us, and desires for us, to live holy lives. God gives us the power through His Holy Spirit; but power for something far more important than ripping apart lions. The Holy Spirit comes to empower us to live for God as we should. God did use Samson mightily; but God used Samson despite his sin, not because of it. Commentator David Guzik says, “Samson shows the danger of underestimating our own sinfulness. He probably figured he had things under control with his own fleshly lusts, but his desire for love, romance, and sex led directly to his destruction. Samson was the great conqueror who never allowed God to properly conquer him.”

Mine will be a tragic story, too, if the same is said about me as I come to the end of my life. You see, we decide to live in the fullness of God’s promise, or we decide not to. It’s our choice. God lets us make it. If we decide not to live in the fullness of who God calls us to be, we must be prepared to live with the consequences, and some of those consequences have an eternal impact.

One of the most transformative ways we can live for Christ is through accountability. Samson shows us the danger of being a loner. Everything Samson did he did alone. He judged for 20 years and never sought or used help from others. The life of discipleship is not meant to be lived alone, and Christian fellowship is not sitting around a table sharing a meal in the fellowship hall. It is being in a relationship with one another where we do as James instructed us:

13 Are any of you suffering hardships? You should pray. Are any of you happy? You should sing praises. 14 Are any of you sick? You should call for the elders of the church to come and pray over you, anointing you with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 Such a prayer offered in faith will heal the sick, and the Lord will make you well. And if you have committed any sins, you will be forgiven. 16 Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.” James 5: 13-16 (NLT)

Fellowship is praying together, for one another and with one another. It is prayer, and it is confession. It is getting in the nitty, gritty of everyday life where temptations lie, and giving ourselves to God in the process, so that He might work His grace in us. Without accountability in our lives, each of us stands to have our lives end as tragically as Samson’s. With accountability, we increase exponentially the capacity to live faithful, holy lives.

I pray, by God’s grace, that mine will not end, and others will say his was a “tragic mess of a life.” I pray that don’t say it about you, either.

Until next time, keep looking up…