When All You’ve Got is “Oh, God…”

Romans 8:18–28

There are seasons in life when the words just don’t come.

You’ve prayed.
You’ve asked.
You’ve tried to hold it together.

And nothing has changed.

If you’re honest, you’re not even sure what to pray anymore. All you’ve got left is, “Oh, God…”

According to the Apostle Paul—that’s enough. 


When Life Feels Heavy

Romans 8 is one of the most comforting and practical passages in all of Scripture because it speaks directly to real life—real pressure, real pain, real uncertainty.

Paul doesn’t pretend suffering isn’t real. He just refuses to let suffering have the final word.

Instead, he points us to the work of the Holy Spirit—God’s presence with us in the middle of it all.

And here’s the promise:
The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness—especially when we don’t know how to pray.


The Spirit Comes Alongside You

One of the names Jesus gave the Holy Spirit is Comforter. The Greek word is parakletos—it means “to come alongside.”

God didn’t leave us alone.

Even now, the Holy Spirit is present with you—walking with you, strengthening you, comforting you.

If you’ve ever felt peace in the middle of chaos…
If you’ve ever looked back and seen God working when you couldn’t see it at the time…

That was Him.


The Spirit Prays With You

Let’s be honest—sometimes prayer feels impossible.

We live in a world of shortcuts and abbreviations. But when life hits hard, even those fall apart. Sometimes all we can say is, “Oh my God…”

There are two kinds of those prayers:

  • The praise-filled kind
  • The desperate kind

And sometimes, all you have is the desperate kind.

“God… do something.”

That’s not a weak prayer. That’s a real one.

Paul says that in those moments, “the Spirit intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”

In other words:
God hears what you meant to pray—not just what you managed to say.

The Holy Spirit takes the ache in your heart and brings it before the Father perfectly.


The Spirit Prays For You

It gets even better.

Not only does the Spirit pray with you—He also prays for you.

Romans 8:27 says the Spirit “pleads for us… in harmony with God’s will.”

Think about that.

You may not always know what to pray.
But the Holy Spirit does.

And He is praying for you—right now—perfectly aligned with the will of God.

And He’s not alone.

Jesus Himself is interceding for you.

The entire Trinity is actively involved in your life and your prayers.

That means this:
Your prayers are never unsupported, unheard, or off track when you belong to Christ.


When You Don’t Know What to Pray

So what do you do when you’re stuck?

When you don’t have clarity…
When you don’t have strength…
When all you’ve got is “Oh, God…”

Start here:

“Your will be done.”
“Your good be done.”

Those two prayers will never miss.

Jesus gave us the first one in the Lord’s Prayer.
Paul anchors the second one in Romans 8:28.

And don’t misunderstand that verse.

It doesn’t say everything is good.
It says God is working in everything for good.

He is not wasting your pain.
He is not ignoring your struggle.
He is weaving it all together for His glory and your ultimate good.


A Simple Way to Respond

Let me make this practical.

Here’s the question we’re wrestling with right now:

What is one thing Jesus is asking you to obey that you’ve been avoiding?

You probably already know the answer.

The reason you’ve been avoiding it?
You don’t feel ready. Strong enough. Clear enough.

That’s exactly where the Holy Spirit meets you.

So here’s a simple prayer rhythm to walk this out:

A.L.A.S.

  • Ask
  • Listen (sit quietly before God)
  • Act (take one step of obedience)
  • Share (tell 1–3 people)

That’s it.

No complicated system. No new program.

Just a simple, daily dependence on the Holy Spirit.


When All You’ve Got is “Oh, God…”

That’s still enough.

Because you’re not praying alone.

The Spirit is with you.
The Spirit is praying with you.
The Spirit is praying for you.

And God hears you—fully, clearly, and perfectly.


A Prayer

Come, Holy Spirit…
For those who are weak—be strength.
For those who are weary—be comfort.
For those who have no words left—pray for them.

Amen.

If you found these words encouraging or helpful, would you mind giving it a like, or consider sharing it with someone who needs to hear it today?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Because of the resurrection, our hope is secure—and that hope reshapes how we live today. Peter shows us what it means to live expectantly, patiently, and righteously as we move from Easter to glory.

From Easter to Glory

1 Peter 1:3–9

God Is Good… Even When Life Isn’t

God is good.

We say it easily. We say it often. And it’s true.

But what happens to that belief when life isn’t?

Because God’s goodness doesn’t always show up the way we expect it to.

And that’s exactly where Peter writes—from the middle of real pressure, real hardship, real trials—reminding believers that God is still good… even there.

Peter is writing to believers scattered across Asia Minor. And he’s writing from Rome—the very center of the empire that is beginning to press in on them.

These Christians aren’t being applauded for their faith.

They’re being questioned. Misunderstood. Talked about.

The pressure is building.

Christianity hasn’t been outlawed yet, but you can feel it coming. The tone is shifting. The hostility is rising. And Peter has a word for them as they stare down what he calls “fiery trials.”

So what do you do when following Jesus starts to cost you something?

Peter doesn’t start with strategy.

He doesn’t start with survival tips.

He starts with Easter.

Because Easter changed everything.

God is good—not because life is easy, but because the tomb is empty.

Hope Anchored in the Resurrection

Peter grounds everything in the resurrection.

Because of Easter, we have been born again—not improved, not adjusted, but made new.

Because of Easter, we have an inheritance that cannot be taken, cannot be touched, and cannot fade.

And as we walk this road—uncertain and sometimes difficult—we are not alone.

God Himself is guarding us through faith.

Then Peter lifts our eyes even higher—from an empty tomb all the way to future glory.

From resurrection… to the day we stand before Christ and hear, “Well done.”

That’s the Gospel.

From Easter to glory.

And because of that, hope is no longer wishful thinking.

It’s how we live.

Living Expectantly

If we really believe that, then we don’t just get through life—we live expectantly.

We’re not just surviving.

We’re looking forward to something.

Our future shapes our present—whatever that present looks like.

It shapes how we respond to the good days.

It shapes how we respond to the hard days.

We don’t just believe in a better day.

We live like it’s coming.

There’s an old story about a woman who was terminally ill. As she planned her funeral, she told her pastor she wanted to be buried with a fork in her hand.

The pastor was puzzled.

She explained that at church potlucks and family dinners, when the main course was finished, someone would always say, “Keep your fork.”

And she knew what that meant.

Something better was coming.

Dessert was on the way.

So she said, “When people see me in that casket holding a fork, I want them to wonder why—and I want you to tell them… keep your fork. The best is yet to come.”

Don’t put your fork down yet.

Because what you’re experiencing right now—no matter how good or how hard—is not the end of the story.

There is more coming.

We don’t just endure life—we live expectantly.

Living Patiently

If we live with that kind of hope, we also learn to live patiently.

We don’t live in a patient world.

We want everything now.

Quick answers. Quick change. Quick results.

An easy life produces a soft faith.

God is not just getting you through the fire—He is working in you through the fire.

Not every fire in life is sent by God.

But God will use every fire.

So here’s the question:

What is one thing Jesus is asking you to obey right now that you’ve been avoiding?

We don’t just endure life—we live patiently.

Living Righteously

We don’t live righteously to become something.

We live righteously because, in Christ, we already are something.

We live righteously because, in Christ, we already are something.

We already have His approval. So we live like it.

Growth doesn’t happen in a moment.

It happens over time as we surrender more and more of our lives to Jesus Christ.

The Work of Grace

God’s grace calls us (prevenient grace).

God’s grace forgives us (justifying grace).

God’s grace changes us (sanctifying grace).

God’s grace will complete the work (glorifying grace).

From Easter to Glory

If we believe it… we live like it.

We live expectantly.

We live patiently.

We live righteously.

And one day, we will stand before the King of glory.

“Well done.”

Reflection

What is one thing Jesus is asking you to obey right now that you’ve been avoiding?

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Day the Earth Shifted…

Did you feel it?

Not long ago, here in Minden, the ground moved. For a moment, what felt stable… wasn’t. And there’s something deeply unsettling about that—when what you thought you could stand on suddenly shifts beneath your feet.

Matthew tells us that something like that happened at the cross—and again at the resurrection.

When Jesus died, the earth shook. And three days later, it shook again.

Because when God was at work through the death and resurrection of Jesus, He wasn’t just changing a few lives—He was shifting the ground beneath the entire world.

When What We Expect Collapses

Holy Week begins with confidence.

A crowd gathers to welcome Jesus. They celebrate Him. They even try to define Him. They want a king—but a king on their terms. A crown without a cross. Power without sacrifice.

They didn’t reject Jesus. They tried to reshape Him.

And for a moment, everything felt stable—like they understood exactly what God was doing.

But they were standing on shaky ground.

When Everything Falls Apart

By Friday, everything collapses.

The same voices that shouted “Hosanna” now demand a cross. And shortly after 3:00 p.m., as Jesus breathes His last breath, the earth shakes.

In that moment:

  • – The disciples watched their hope collapse
  • – The religious leaders watched their certainty collapse
  • – The Romans soldiers watched their control collapse

Everything they thought was solid… gave way.

But here’s what they didn’t understand:

Good Friday wasn’t the world coming apart.

It was the beginning of God’s great realignment.

When God Finishes What He Started

Early Sunday morning, the earth shakes again. Not as something new—but as the completion of what God had already begun.

What Friday broke… Sunday restored.

  • – On Friday, hope faded — on Sunday, hope rose
  • – On Friday, despair settled — on Sunday, joy broke through
  • – On Friday, death spoke — on Sunday, life spoke louder

The resurrection wasn’t just an event.

It was a shift.

What the Resurrection Changes

When the earth shifted, everything shifted with it:

  • – Death shifted to Life
  • – Despair shifted to Joy
  • – Sin shifted to Forgiveness
  • – Condemnation shifted to Grace
  • – Defeat shifted to Victory

And if that’s true, then we don’t get to live the same way anymore. We don’t live in fear—we live in hope. We don’t chase worldly success—we pursue faithfulness. We don’t grasp for crowns—we take up crosses.

If the resurrection is true, then nothing in our lives can stay where it is.

The Shift We Don’t Want to Make

Here’s where it gets uncomfortable.

One of the biggest shifts needed today isn’t out there—it’s in us… and in the Church.

We’ve started calling sin by another name.

We call it brokenness.

Now, there’s truth there. We are wounded. We are shaped by things beyond our control. But if we’re not careful, that language becomes an escape.

Broken things don’t bear responsibility.

Sin does.

And if we are only broken, then what we need is therapy.

But if we are sinners… then what we need is a Savior.

And that’s exactly why Easter matters.

Jesus didn’t die and rise again just to help us cope.

He didn’t come to make us slightly better.

He came so sinners could be forgiven, restored, and made new.

The Real Question

The earth has shifted.

The tomb is empty.

Jesus is alive.

The question isn’t what happened then.

The question is—what is going to happen in us now?

What needs to shift in your life?

  • – From death to life?
  • – From despair to joy?
  • – From sin to forgiveness?
  • – From control to surrender?

Because if the resurrection is true, something in you cannot stay where it is.

An Invitation

The invitation isn’t to try harder.

It’s not to clean yourself up.

It’s to repent and believe the Good News.

To stop pretending.

To stop resisting.

To come to Jesus.

The same power that shook the earth can change your life.

The same Jesus who walked out of that tomb can bring you out of whatever tomb is holding you.

So get off the shaky ground.

And stand on the solid rock—Jesus Christ.

The earth has already shifted.

The only question left is this:

Will you?

Until next time, keep looking up…

A Crown or a Cross?

What Palm Sunday Teaches Us About Shattered Expectations and True Faith

This Sunday is Palm Sunday—the day we remember the crowds waving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna!” as Jesus rode into Jerusalem. But here’s what haunts me every year: Less than a week later, many of those same voices were shouting “Crucify Him!”

How does a crowd go from crowning a King to demanding His death in just a few days? And what does that say about us when God doesn’t meet our expectations?

On Palm Sunday, we often focus only on the triumphal entry. This year, let’s do something different. We’ll look at Mark’s account of Jesus entering Jerusalem—and then jump straight to the trial before Pilate on Good Friday. In less than a week, the same city saw the crowd shift from “Hosanna!” to “Crucify Him!” They began the week expecting a crown. They ended it demanding a cross.

The Triumphal Entry (Mark 11:1-11)

As Jesus approached Jerusalem, riding on a young colt, the crowd erupted in praise straight from Scripture:

Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!” (Mark 11:9-10, quoting Psalm 118)

They spread their cloaks and leafy branches on the road, anointing Him as King in a festal procession. These weren’t outsiders. They were good, religious people who knew and loved the Word of God.

From “Hosanna” to “Crucify Him” (Mark 15:1-15)

Fast-forward to the trial before Pilate. The chief priests, elders, scribes, and the crowd—still religious people—now cried out, “Crucify Him!” They chose Barabbas, a rebel and murderer, over Jesus.

In just days, their cheers turned to condemnation. Why?

They knew the Scripture… but they did not understand the Word made flesh standing before them. They wanted a crown on their terms—a political deliverer who would overthrow Rome and restore Israel’s glory immediately. When Jesus refused to fit their expectations, their hearts turned.

The heartbreaking truth is that both crowds were driven by the same root issue: Jesus shattered their expectations.

The Same Struggle Today

If we’re honest, the same thing can happen to us. Many of us are “good, religious folks” who love the Bible and love Jesus. We pray for healing, deliverance from addiction, or for our children to come home—expecting the crown of quick answers and comfortable outcomes.

When God says “no,” or “not yet,” or when the cross of suffering comes instead of the comfort we wanted, our hearts can waver just like that first-century crowd.

Yet here is the wonder of the gospel: God’s “no” to our agenda is often His greater “yes” to a better, eternal life—resurrection life. He does not abandon us to our sin or our pain. He uses even the hardest things to redeem us.

The very thing we think will destroy us, the Lord uses to shape us.

Jesus Knows the Pain of “No”

Remember Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying, “Let this cup pass from me.” Even the Son of God asked for a different way, and heaven was silent. Not because the Father didn’t love Him, but because the cross was the only way to save us.

That temporary “no” from the Father became our eternal “yes.” Because Jesus went to the cross, the crown comes through the cross—one of the beautiful paradoxes of God’s Kingdom.

Our God is a big-picture God. As He declares in Isaiah 46:10, “I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times what is still to come.” He sees the whole story. We see only the painful circumstances right in front of us. But He is already turning our “no” into resurrection victory.

What This Means on Monday Morning

When the medical scan comes back worse, when the phone call brings bad news, or when the prodigal still hasn’t come home—what then?

We have a daily choice: Will I demand the crown on my terms right now, or will I trust the King who leads through the cross?

Here are four practical steps when your expectations are shattered:

  1. Name the disappointment honestly to God. Jesus did this in Gethsemane—pour out your heart without pretense.
  2. Remember you are not abandoned. The same God who said “no” to His own Son is working something far greater than we can see.
  3. Choose to worship anyway. Sing “Hosanna” even when you don’t feel it. Sunday is coming.
  4. Cling to your baptism. Those waters marked you as belonging to the King whose crown came through the cross.

When you feel your heart beginning to waver like that ancient crowd, run back to the cross and whisper, “Lord, I don’t understand, but I trust You. You are still King of kings.”

We Are Barabbas

Nowhere is this clearer than at the trial before Pilate. The crowd was given a choice: Jesus or Barabbas. Barabbas was exactly what they wanted—a man of action promising quick deliverance. Jesus was what they (and we) needed—the innocent Son of God who would take their place.

They chose Barabbas. And Jesus took Barabbas’s place on the cross.

We are Barabbas. We are the guilty ones who deserve judgment, yet because of Jesus we go free. He took our place so that our temporary “no’s” could become God’s eternal “yes.”

We want a quick, revolutionary fix. Jesus offers sacrificial love. We want a crown on our terms right now. Jesus gives us the cross that leads to the crown of life.

The Crown That Comes Through the Cross

One day, the same Jesus will return riding a white horse. On His robe and on His thigh will be written: “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16). The crown of thorns becomes the crown of glory. The cross was never the end—it was the path to His eternal reign.

The crowd had a choice: a crown or a cross. Which choice will we make?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Bethlehem Faith…

I’ve been reading and praying over Micah’s prophecy this Advent season:

“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
    though you are small among the clans of Judah,
out of you will come for me
    one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from of old,
    from ancient times.”

Therefore Israel will be abandoned
    until the time when she who is in labor bears a son,
and the rest of his brothers return
    to join the Israelites.

He will stand and shepherd his flock
    in the strength of the Lord,
    in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they will live securely, for then his greatness
    will reach to the ends of the earth.

And he will be our peace…

I don’t know whether to call it divine providence or serendipity that it so happened as Advent is drawing to a close that this passage is part of my “Bible in a Year” reading plan. I shouldn’t be surprised because Micah’s prophecy lies near the end of the Old Testament and the year is almost gone, so..

I still prefer to think it divine providence, though.

God in the Small Places

Bethlehem seems like such an odd place. It really wasn’t known for much of anything in those days, so much so that Micah even says it was “small among the clans of Judah.” It’s that idea of small that has captured my attention this Advent.

When I think of Bethlehem, I can’t help but think of Eros, LA, that place I served my first full-time appointment in ministry. There wasn’t much in Eros (still isn’t) in those days. Not a stop light. Stop light? There wasn’t (isn’t) even a flashing caution light. Not many people either. A couple of hundred as best I recall. Simply a little country town with little significance. That was Bethlehem, too.

Bethlehem reminds me that God chooses to do His greatest work in the most unlikely places. The “small” places of life.

We live in a world obsessed with size, speed, power and recognition–a world where young people want to be known as “influencers” and we all want more “followers,” and we want to grow our “platform.” Bethlehem reminds me that God will do His deepest work in quiet obedience, unseen prayers and simple acts of kindness that only heaven sees.

Presence over Power

Bethlehem also reminds me that peace doesn’t come from power–it comes from presence. Micah says, “And He will be our peace…”

We live in a world where anxiety runs rampant. I am reminded that peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of Christ. We can live in Bethlehem-sized circumstances (small paycheck, small church, small town, small family, small circle of friends), but we can have peace that is vast and deep when Jesus reigns in our hearts.

Bethlehem reminds me, too, that the humble road is still the holy road. Humility is the soil where redemption grows. I am reminded of what James said–“God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6).

In every generation, He looks for people willing to say, “Lord, I am small but You are great. Use me however you will.” When we accept our smallness, God’s greatness shines through.

Living in Bethlehem

Bethlehem, this small little hamlet tucked deep in the heart of Judah, was part of God’s unfolding plan. Granted it was just one chapter, but what an important chapter it was. Bethlehem reminds me that the Church is the continuation of what began there. Just as Jesus was born in Bethlehem through Mary, Jesus is now revealed through us, His body. We are called to be spiritual Bethlehems–places where the presence of Christ is made known to the world.

I like to believe the presence of Christ can be made known through the small church. The church I pastor is a small church, indeed, but I believe the power of God that was present in Bethlehem will be present in us if we live in humble, faithful obedience to the Lord Jesus Christ. I look forward to seeing the great things He will do with our little church.

The Bread of Life

Finally, Bethlehem reminds me that the world still needs the “bread of Life (John 6: 35). Bethlehem means “house of bread.” Out of the house of bread comes the bread of life. Our world is starving—not for carbohydrates, but for meaning, peace, and truth.

Every Christian today bears the calling to feed the hungry hearts around them with the Bread of Life. Whether you’re a teacher, mechanic, pastor, or parent, your life becomes a Bethlehem when Christ uses you to nourish others with His love and truth.

Bethlehem isn’t just a quaint Christmas scene, but rather a reminder that God’s unstoppable, unshakable Kingdom comes in un-noticed ways and un-noticed places. Bethlehem was the first stop on the way to the cross. Bethlehem was the first stop on the way to the resurrection. We can’t get to glory without Bethlehem.

It is in Bethlehem that the small becomes sacred and the ordinary becomes eternal. If your faith feels small this Christmas I have one word for you–Bethlehem! Jesus Christ is still in the business of entering dark nights with shining light and bringing peace to all who welcome Him.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Sermon in a Sentence…

I’ve been reflecting on and praying over the Apostle Paul’s second letter to his young protege Timothy all week in preparation for Sunday morning. Chapter 4 has particularly captured my attention as I study all the rich imagery Paul shares with Timothy as a means of passing on that which is most important in life and ministry.

As I thought about sermons from this passage, I realized there was absolutely a sermon in every sentence. Seriously, here are some of those sentences:

  • “I give you this charge…” (verse 1)
  • “Preach the Word.” (verse 2)
  • “Be prepared in season and out…” (verse 2)
  • “Correct, rebuke and encourage…” (verse 2)
  • “For I am already being poured out as a drink offering…” (verse 6)
  • “The time for my departure is at hand…” (verse 6)
  • “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (verse 7)

Well, you get the idea. The imagery is such that each line is a sermon unto itself.

Now, I’m no Apostle Paul, but as I prayed over the passage this week, short little one or two line thoughts kept popping up. I kept writing them down thinking they’d be good to include in a sermon, but as I sat down to write a sermon, I thought many of them were, like Paul’s letter to Timothy, sermons unto themselves.

I share them with you here, and I call them A Sermon in a Sentence…okay, so some of them are two sentences, but…

  • There’s nothing quite like death to make one take a look at life.
  • Scripture is meant to shape culture. Culture should never shape Scripture.
  • People don’t want truth. They want permission.
  • It’s not our task the make the Bible relevant. The Bible is timeless, it’s the Holy Spirit’s job to make it relevant.
  • We desire comfort, not conviction.

I thought this was a good one!

  • We live in an age that seeks flattery rather than a fix, entertainment rather than edification and soothing over salvation.

A few more that I wrote down:

  • People don’t reject the Bible because it’s unclear, but because it’s inconvenient.
  • We desire redefinition over repentance.
  • Discipleship isn’t comfortable, it’s costly!
  • The Church isn’t called to be trendy, it’s called to be holy.

So, this next one is longer, but here goes:

  • People say, “I’m spiritual but not religious.” That’s just another way of saying, “I’m looking for a religion that affirms my choices and my actions.” They’re looking to have their “ears tickled.” They want to walk down the buffet line of religious choices and pick a little bit of this one and a little bit of that one until they’ve crafted a spiritual philosophy that matches their preferences.

Lest one think I’m referring to people “out there” in the world, you’d be incorrect. I’m referring to people in the church. Let’s not be “those people.” Let us be people who embrace Truth, as challenging and convicting and inconvenient as it might be. Unbelief in the Church is not the problem. False belief is the problem.

Actually, any of those, or all of those, or none of those may show up in today’s sermon. Who knows? It’s 6:30 on a Sunday morning and that sermon is still a work in progress. One thing I’m sure of: The folks at Haughton Methodist Church only wish I would preach a sermon in a sentence.

Hey? If you want to know which ones (if any) show up in today’s message, why don’t you join me at 10:30 a.m., at 966 Highway 80 in Haughton, LA? I’d love to see you there!

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Message of the Cross…

Here’s the verse I’ve been contemplating all week:

18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. (1 Corinthians 1: 18 NIV)

Here’s the question I’ve also been contemplating all week:

Is the Church of Jesus Christ losing the message of the cross, and thus the power of God unto salvation?

Why do I ask?

No Crosses

It’s simple: there are some “Christian” bodies that no longer display the cross. I’m not going to name names. Why heavens! That would seem divisive, but you know what? Division in the body of Jesus Christ is exactly what the Apostle Paul was addressing when he introduced the message of the cross to the young church at Corinth.

So, yeah, let me name names.

Lakewood Church–that bastion of evangelical (?) Christianity in Houston, Texas–doesn’t display the cross prominently in its worship space.

They’re not the only one. Traditionally, Quakers do not display the cross (or any religious symbols) in their meeting houses. Additionally, many non-denominational churches have chosen to remove the cross from their worship spaces.

Why would they do that? They will tell you there are several reasons:

  • Some would say they focus on the resurrected Christ rather than the crucified Christ (this would distinguish them from the Roman Catholics),
  • Some would say that a focus on the cross is a form of idolatry and violates the second commandment,
  • Some argue that the cross wasn’t used broadly as a Christian symbol until 300 years after the time of Jesus, so why use it now,
  • Some say the cross is offensive to non-Christians, so to make non-religious people feel more comfortable, crosses should be removed.

It’s this last reason that gets me, and I’m wondering if it was what Paul was addressing as the first issue (among many) in their divisions of the Corinthian church.

The Offensive Cross

Look at what Paul says in verse 23:

23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,

In the first century, crucifixion was the most shameful death imaginable — reserved for slaves and criminals. Romans themselves would never endure it.

So, telling people their Savior died on a cross was scandalous to Jews and nonsense to Greeks.

I fear that today people want a faith without a cross. We want inspiration without repentance, blessing without sacrifice. We want Christ without the crown of thorns. If that is what we want, that is what we’ll get, but we’ll miss the power of God unto salvation.

Paul says “the message of the cross…is the power of God.” Why is the cross God’s power? Because at the cross:

  • The penalty of sin was paid.
  • The power of sin was broken.
  • The holy love of God was displayed.

We should never be ashamed of the cross. It is where justice and mercy meet perfectly. The message of the cross changes lives.

Smarter than the Cross

Rev. Shane Bishop had a Facebook post earlier in the week wherein he identified four viruses affecting the contemporary church. The third virus is that “we are suddenly smarter than everyone else who has ever read the Bible.”

Our propensity is to read the Bible in light of current cultural trends and bend the Bible to fit the current cultural climate instead of allowing the Bible to form us in light of the current culture. Culture will always change. Always has. Always will. The Word of God never changes. It is the enduring truth of the ages. I believe this is what the Apostle Paul is saying to the young church.

20 Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? (1 Corinthians 1: 20 NIV)

We’ll never be able to outsmart God. Paul mocks our human arrogance. All our knowledge can’t help us find God. Our learning can make us clever, but it cannot make us right with God. Only the cross can do that! Education, without the power of the cross, just makes smarter sinners.

God’s plan of salvation was designed so that no one could claim special “knowledge” that led to salvation. It can’t be earned through human achievement. It is available to anyone and everyone who receives it by faith…it is God’s gift.

Look folks, everything we have comes from God through Jesus Christ. Paul evens ends his initial plea for unity with that truth:

30 It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. (1 Corinthians 1:30 NIV)

Paul says Jesus is the source of any wisdom we attain. Paul says Jesus is the One who places us in right standing with God. Paul says Jesus is the One who sanctifies us, and that He has purchased our pardon. It all happened on the cross.

If the Church of Jesus Christ would find its unity, it must do so, Paul says, in the message of the cross.

We can’t replace the Gospel message with clever ideas or popular cultural trends.

We can’t water down the “offense” of the cross. The message of the cross will always confront our pride.

We must remember that we are nothing and we have nothing apart from the cross of Jesus. If we boast, let our boasting be in Him.

The cross of Jesus is the power of God. Let us never lose His power. Let us never lose the cross.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Empty!

This blog, like Easter itself, if full of empty. Unlike this blog, though, Easter empty is full of God’s promises. The empty cross is full of God’s promise of forgiveness. The empty tomb is full of God’s promise of eternal life. The empty grave clothes are full of God’s promise of a personal relationship with His Son, Jesus Christ.

Even though you clicked on the link to read what you thought was a blog filled with profound insights into the mystery of Easter only to be disappointed by its emptiness, you will not be disappointed by the empty things you find on Easter morning.

My prayer for all of us this morning is that we will live into the fullness of God’s promises in the empty cross, the empty tomb and the empty grave clothes.

Now, get up and go to church!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Gone Fishing…

If I were to stand in front of almost any congregation and ask the question, “Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ?,” depending upon the congregation, it is likely almost 100% of the hands would go up.

Unfortunately, I do not think we Christians really understand what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. Now, I’m not saying this as a result of my observations of the people in the pews. I’m saying it because I’ve had an opportunity over the past week to reflect on my own discipleship, and I haven’t necessarily liked what I’ve seen.

I’ve been reflecting on my own discipleship as a result of reading again Jesus’ call of Peter, James and John from Luke’s gospel (5: 1 – 11). As Jesus prepares to call these guys to a life of discipleship, He gives them a demonstration of what discipleship looks like. It is in His demonstration to these first disciples that I learn what discipleship must look like in my own life.

Lesson #1: Discipleship is more than listening to the Word.

Jesus’ teaching begins with a session along the shoreline of the lake called Gennesaret. It was also called the Sea of Tiberias and the Sea of Galilee, and is situated 680 feet below sea level. It is called Lake Kinneret in Israel today.

Along the shore of the Lake is where the fishermen would be washing out and repairing their nets after an excursion on the lake. So here was Simon, after a tough night of fishing cleaning up his boat, setting up the nets to dry in the sun, and along comes Jesus who chooses his boat and asks for it to be pushed just off shore to serve as a floating platform. This would have been an ideal way for Jesus’ voice to carry across the water to the maximum amount of the people – and the water would keep the crowds back so that more could hear, because Jesus always drew a crowd.

I wonder if Peter thought it an imposition for Jesus to ask to use his boat as a platform from which to teach the crowds? It may have been a little inconvenient, but Peter was apparently willing to be inconvenienced a little for this itinerant preacher who was all the rage around the lake. Simon was like, “Let’s see what’s got everyone so interested in this guy.”

So, Jesus sits down and teaches. Apparently, it’s a compelling message because when it’s over, Jesus turns to Peter and says, “Let’s go fishing.” Surprisingly, Peter says, “Okay.” Well, he argues a little, but he ultimately defers to Jesus.

I say surprisingly because, well what can a carpenter teach a fisherman about fishing? Peter’s hesitation comes from the fact that one, he’s tired, two, he’s discouraged, and three, he fishes for a living–he knows where the fish are…and where they’re not. Nevertheless…

There must have been something incredibly compelling in what Jesus spoke from that boat that day. Whatever it was, it prompted Peter to act on Jesus’ command. Discipleship is never simply hearing the Word of God, though some of us seem to think that’s enough because that’s all we seem to do.

What do I mean? Too many of us who claim to be disciples of Jesus are content to sit and soak up as much information about Jesus as we can. We join another Bible study. We begin a small group ministry. Join a new Sunday school class. Go to another conference. Listen to all the good podcasts. We try to gain as much information as we can gain, thinking that somehow information equals transformation. Information does not equal transformation. Yet, that’s the discipleship model I see in too many churches (even some of the ones I’ve pastored).

Our fishing has become like Mark Twain’s. Mark Twain liked to go fishing, but he didn’t want to be bothered by either fish or people. When he wanted to relax by doing nothing, people thought he was lazy, but if he went fishing he could relax all he wanted. People would see him sitting by the river bank and they would say, “Look, he’s fishing, don’t bother him.”

So Mr. Twain had the perfect solution: he would take a fishing pole, line, and a bobber, but he wouldn’t put a hook on the end. He would cast the bobber in the water and lay back on the bank. That way he could relax all he wanted and he would be bothered neither by man nor fish.

Discipleship isn’t discipleship until the teaching of Jesus has moved us to action. I am reminded of the words of James: “But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves” (James 1:22 NLT).

If we believe that going to church to hear another sermon, or another bible study, or going to another conference, or listening to podcasts is what it takes to be a disciple, then we have missed the boat (pun intended)! Discipleship is both a noun and a verb. Discipleship is as much action as it is information.

Why are we so content with gaining information? One reason I can think of is that fish are smelly and messy. Discipleship is about inviting others into a relationship with Jesus and that can be messy indeed. Unfortunately, too many of us don’t want to get our hands dirty.

You’d think as much as I like to eat fish that I would enjoy time catching fish. Not so! I’d much rather spend my time doing other things. I want to walk into a restaurant and sit down, let someone else do the messy work of cleaning and cooking the fish. Simply bring my fish to the table, let me enjoy them, then walk out for someone else to clean up the mess. Sure, I’ll pay for the meal and if the service has been good, I’ll even give a tip. I’ll leave full and the only transformation that took place was the transformation around my waistline.

The call to discipleship is a call to action, and it is here I learn a second lesson:

Lesson #2: Discipleship demands radical obedience.

Jesus will ask us to do crazy things…things that defy logic. Peter knew that what Jesus was asking was completely illogical. He knew fishing deep waters in the heat of the day made no sense. It was bad enough that he had fished all night and came up empty, now Jesus was asking him to go out into the deep waters and try again.

Give Simon credit, he said something more than this first reaction to Jesus request. Simon also said, “But if you say so, we’ll try again.” Peter exercised the very essence of submission and obedience—I don’t understand, I am exhausted, I’ve already tried this and it didn’t work. But if you say so,…”

Jesus asked for Simon to submit to his word – and he did – not knowing what would happen. Suspecting it was useless, expecting nothing more than wearier muscles and sunburn. Submission that costs nothing is without value and means little. Jesus asked Simon to go out into the deep water where his own strength failed him and to let down the nets one more time. 

How often do we face similar situations? God calls us to step out in faith, to do something that seems illogical or impossible from our human perspective. Maybe it’s forgiving someone who’s hurt us deeply, or taking a stand for our faith in a hostile environment, or giving generously when our own resources seem limited.

In these moments, will we respond like Peter? “Because you say so, Lord, I will.” This is the essence of discipleship – trusting God’s word over our own understanding.

Ultimately, it is obedience to the Word we’ve received that leads to our transformation. The miracle in this encounter is not the catch of fish, it is the transformation of Peter. Peter exclaimed, “I’m a sinful man!” All this time, Peter thought he was doing Jesus a solid, when the whole time it was Jesus who was transforming Peter.

Discipleship is not about what we can do for Jesus, it is about what Jesus really does for us. Obedience is grace that transforms us into the likeness of Jesus Christ.

Finally, it is through obedience that I learn…

Lesson #3: Discipleship is an all-or-nothing proposition.

Peter got back to the dock, and Luke tells us he left everything. Yeah, that miraculous catch of fish? He left it. Those boats? Left ’em! Those things that Peter believed brought him security, after all, he had mouths to feed and mortgages to pay, were really no security at all. He found his security in following Jesus.

This is the costly nature of discipleship. Following Jesus isn’t just about adding Him to our existing life; it’s about reorienting our entire life around Him. It might mean leaving behind old habits, changing career paths, or adjusting our priorities. For some, it might even mean leaving home or family to serve God.

You and I might not have to walk away from a boat, but there is plenty that we do need to walk away from. Jesus is calling us to walk away from our old life, our old ideas and our treasured possessions in exchange for a new and exciting life of following Him. 

Conclusion

So here are the questions I’ve been grappling with over the past week:

  1. Where is God calling me to obey, even if it defies logic?
  2. In what area of my life do I need to trust God for a miracle?
  3. What might I need to leave behind to fully follow Jesus?

May I invite you to join me in reflecting on those questions? I’d love to know your answers. You can leave them in the comments.

Until next time, keep looking up…