Mid-life Mayhem…

No! Not me. King David…you know? King David of Israel. It had to be mid-life mayhem. Some call it a mid-life crisis. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about David’s tryst with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11 & 12), and his subsequent cover-up. Here’s how the encounter begins:

11 In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the whole Israelite army. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained in Jerusalem.

One evening David got up from his bed and walked around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing. The woman was very beautiful, and David sent someone to find out about her. The man said, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite.” Then David sent messengers to get her. She came to him, and he slept with her. (Now she was purifying herself from her monthly uncleanness.) Then she went back home. The woman conceived and sent word to David, saying, “I am pregnant.”

According to the biblical chronology, David was somewhere between ages 49 – 56 when this event occurred (see here).

So, all week long I’ve been asking myself, “How could David do such an obviously wrong thing?” I mean, seriously, he is God’s anointed one, a “man after God’s own heart,” the poet of Israel, the one who was/is the foreshadow of Messiah. How does he fall, and so obviously and precipitously? It just doesn’t make sense. What could it be?

I thought, perhaps, it was boredom. Here’s David lounging around in the spring of the year, sleeping until afternoon, hanging around an empty palace (all his warriors are off at war). The proverb “idle minds are the devil’s playground” is true. Perhaps if David had been productively occupied, say out with his warriors, this might not have happened.

Maybe David had a sense of entitlement at work. You know? He was thinking, “I’m the King. No one says ‘No,’ to the King. I can do what I want.”

While it is true that Israel was governed by the Mosaic Law, and the Mosaic Law was very specific concerning the act of adultery, I wonder if David saw all the surrounding kings who WERE the law in their kingdoms, and thought, “I can make my own law,” or thought he wasn’t subject to the law. Yeah, it’s a stretch, but I’m trying to make sense of it all.

Some have suggested that it wasn’t a sin for David to be with Bathsheba. Under this line of reasoning, David instituted the practice of issuing a “conditional divorce” to soldiers going off to war in case they were lost in action so that their widows would be free to re-marry legally. Uriah was conditionally divorced from Bathsheba because he was at war. According to this reasoning, David’s sin wasn’t adultery, it was the murder of Uriah and its cover-up. I’m not sure I buy it, but it is an interesting perspective.

I’m not justifying David’s actions with these excuses. Just trying to understand his actions. Nothing justifies David’s actions. Nothing justifies our sin. Suffice it to say that this episode in the history of Israel and the life of David stands as a cautionary tale for all of us. May I share some of the cautions I’ve noticed as I’ve reflected on David’s actions?

Caution #1: Everyone is subject to the power of sin.

No one (not even David) is perfect. David had a human heart (even if it was one after God’s own) just like the rest of us. As the Apostle James reminds us:

14 but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. 15 Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death (James 1: 14 – 15 NIV).

Yes, David (up to this moment) has been the foreshadow of Jesus Christ, but this moment is the pivot of David’s life. Before this moment, the biblical writers portray only the triumphs of his life. He is anointed as king. He wins mighty victories over his enemies. The nation writes songs about him and celebrate his victories. He becomes king, and a good one, too. He shows mercy to his enemies. He reunited the Kingdom of Judah and the nation of Israel. He is riding high in Israel.

Events after this encounter are recorded as pure tragedy. He loses a child (the child born of this tryst), he has a son rape one of his daughters. Another son kills that son. Children revolt. David flees. He gets old and dies. Literally, the triumphs of David’s life turn to the tragedies of David’s life, and this is the pivot point.

Before this moment, David is (appropriately) compared to Jesus Christ. From this moment, David is contrasted to Jesus Christ, and we discover that even David needs Jesus, for even he is subject to the power of sin.

Even the chronicler of 1 & 2 Kings saw this as the pivotal event of David’s life:

For David had done what was right in the eyes of the Lord and had not failed to keep any of the Lord’s commands all the days of his life—except in the case of Uriah the Hittite (1 Kings 15: 5 NIV).

Caution #2: Sin destroys everything.

David’s family fell apart. Uriah lost his life. Bathsheba lost her family and a child. Sin, this sin, destroyed it all.

Yes, David repented of his sin (see 2 Samuel 12 and Psalm 51), but repentance doesn’t negate the consequences of our sin. We are left with pain and grief caused by the brokenness of sin.

Yes, salvation in Jesus Christ saves us from the penalty of sin (Romans 6: 23), and he (along with John Wesley) says we are saved from sin’s power (Romans 6: 14), but nowhere does the bible indicate that salvation in Jesus saves us from the consequences of sin.

Caution #3: Everything is not enough.

David had it all. He was famous. Fame didn’t satisfy him.

David had success. He had won great victories on the battlefield and reunified the nation. He had brought the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. Success didn’t satisfy him.

David had great wealth. Kings from surrounding kingdoms were paying him. tribute money and he was adding his wealth to the treasury to build the glory of Israel–the Temple. His great wealth didn’t satisfy him.

He had everything, yet he wanted more.

The blessings of the economic realities of the United States of America has created a very comfortable environment for all of us. Our success has left us wanting more, more, more. In all our pursuit of more, we are moving further and further away from the Lord. We’re busy chasing anything to fill the emptiness only God can fill.

Caution #4: Anything might be legal, but not everything is moral.

David may, in fact, have seen himself as the law of the land, and by a simple edict established anything as legal. But, just because something is legal doesn’t make it moral. When man’s law and God’s law come up against each other, God’s law will win every time. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But, ultimately, God’s law will prevail.

Perhaps David had already experienced this reality. We know that Genesis 2 is explicit in God’s plan for marriage–a man and woman become one flesh. Yet, David had 8 wives (at least 8!). Yes, it was legal, but legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, gay marriage may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, abortion may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, gambling may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, it may be legal for the United Methodist Church to seize all the property of the local congregation. Legal doesn’t mean moral (Yes! I went there!)

Finding Jesus.

As I always do, I need to find Jesus in these Old Testament accounts. Where can I see Jesus in this unfortunate episode in David’s and Bathsheba’s lives?

Well, Jesus is certainly present in their genealogy. Matthew’s Gospel mentions Bathsheba in Jesus’ family tree, so there’s the literal sense in which Jesus is present.

Beyond that, though, I see God’s sovereignty at work in all the brokenness of their lives. God’s will is accomplished (salvation comes through Jesus) even though David is disobedient and sinful. There is hope for me yet. All my broken, sinful attitudes and actions will not thwart God’s plan. For that I am grateful.

What a testament to God’s grace! It’s all grace, and Jesus came so that we might know the grace of God up close and personal. Repentance is grace. Forgiveness is grace.

What a great lesson to learn in mid-life (or at any other point in life). It’s a lesson I’m learning a little past mid-life, but I pray that I AM learning it.

Coming to understand the depths of God’s grace opens us to a new (or renewed) gratitude for Him. No, it won’t necessarily change my circumstances, but it will change my perspective and attitude. It can, literally, give me new life–God’s life in Jesus Christ.

Oh, that I should be so blessed.

Until next time, keep looking up…

“Move over Moron!” and Other Random Thoughts…

So, I did a Facebook post that probably needs a little context. I posted the following on Wednesday:

Well, honestly if you told me when I woke up this morning that I would have two old ladies in my shop talking about selling vintage pornography on the internet, I would have called the white coats for you. I would have been wrong! 😳😲 Interesting what you can over hear when you’re working.”

Here’s the context for that post. Most of you know I run an oil change shop (click here for coupons). I tell folks I run an oil change shop to support my pastoring habit. I don’t currently have a cashier, so that means much of my time is spent acting as the cashier.

One of those times was Wednesday morning. A customer needed brakes on her vehicle. She is a regular customer (thank the Lord for those!) who runs a resale shop in Ruston. Not long after, another lady came in for an oil change and sat in the lobby while the service was performed.

It was obvious the two ladies knew each other. They exchanged pleasantries and began talking about their businesses. The second customer, I discovered in overhearing their conversation, frequents estate sales and yard sales and sells her discoveries on her eBay store.

As the conversation progressed, the first customer shared about her recent purchase of an estate from a man who had passed away who had old Playboy and Penthouse (no, I’m not linking that information on my blog!) magazines going back to the first copies. The other customer chimed in that she had, in fact, sold numerous vintage pornographic magazines on her eBay store, and that they were quite profitable.

The conversation continued for several minutes until I finally interjected, “I’m sorry, ladies, but not in a million years would I have thought that I would overhear two ladies discussing vintage pornography in my shop today.” They just laughed.

The disconcerting part is after laughing, they just continued their conversation. Apparently, one of them had received $150 for a particular copy of an old Playboy. For them, it was strictly business.

No, I didn’t reveal to the ladies that I am a pastor. Why should that even matter? Our language and conversation should always be such as to be pleasing and appropriate. I’m reminded of the Apostle Paul’s counsel to the Colossians and the Ephesians:

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer each person.” (Colossians 4:6); and

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4:29).

Hey? If I wouldn’t talk about it in front of a pastor, I shouldn’t be talking about it all! That should be the standard for anyone seeking to be a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ.

I’m not begrudging the ladies for their conversation, nor is this a judgement upon them. They were conducting business. It was a purely transactional conversation. The broader conversation I should have introduced was one of faithful discipleship.

I should have asked if they were followers of Jesus. Failure number one! I should have asked if they thought selling pornography on the internet (vintage or otherwise) was an appropriate way for disciples to make a living? Failure number two! Failure number three is the one that really got to me, though.

What was failure number three? You had to ask, didn’t you?

I’m going to say it’s the construction’s fault (couldn’t be mine, right?). There is construction on I-20 between my shop and my home and I have to traverse it daily.

The construction company, as always, gives motorists plenty of opportunity to merge to one lane, but as is usually the case, there are morons who choose to pass a mile-long line of traffic and rush up to the merge point–thus causing the mile-long line of traffic to come to a complete stop just so they can merge into the line.

I hate it! Seriously, are you so important that a mile-long line of already slowly moving traffic has to stop so you can be a mile further down the road? How self-centered! How narcissistic! How moronic!

On Wednesday afternoon, after a long and tiring day, I’m stuck in the traffic. I look in my sideview mirror and here comes another moron buzzing past the line. I literally roll my window down and yell, “Move over, moron!” out the window.

No, the driver didn’t hear me (he was moving much too fast), but that’s not the point. The point is my speech and thought pattern were completely inappropriate to the occasion. I was convicted of James’ words in his letter to the church:

“Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless” (James 1:26).

So, here on the very same day that I’m questioning the conversation of two ladies, I find myself convicted of the same issue. Major fail!

Some pastor I turned out to be–of course, I’ve told you before there is a reason I named my blog nottheperfectpastor.com.

Yes, I’ve repented–for failing to have a deeper conversation with the ladies, for not watching my tongue (even if no one hears me) and for calling (or even thinking) anyone a moron.

I’m eternally grateful for the forgiveness of our sin through the precious shed blood of Jesus Christ. I’m grateful that He extends each of us grace in our failure, and provides us another chance (and another and another and another) to grow in our discipleship. He knows I’ve got a lot more growing to do. He knows because I’m not the perfect pastor. I’m not the perfect pastor because I’m not a perfect person.

Praise the Lord for grace!

Until next time, keep looking up…

A Man After God’s Heart…

Israel’s King David is (perhaps) the most well-known religious figure in the world besides Jesus Christ. He certainly is to the Jewish people and to most Christians. Honestly, to most Christians (and not a few Jews) he’s almost superhuman.

I bring David up because I’ve been meditating on his life, and particularly his calling (anointing as king) all week long. I’ve preached the passage before, and I’m preaching it again this week, but as I’ve studied and meditated this week, I just can’t seem to get to the “heart” of one particular passage of Scripture:

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16: 7 NIV)

I have been stuck on the phrase, “the Lord looks at the heart” all week. I’ve asked myself three questions all week long:

  1. What does the Lord see when He looks at the human heart?
  2. What did the Lord see when He looked at David’s heart?
  3. What does the Lord see when He looks at my heart?

The Context

I suppose I should set the context for the passage. It was the period of the Judges in Israel’s history when the people began clamoring for a King (1 Samuel 8). Samuel’s time as prophet/judge was drawing to a close and the people rejected his sons, who had been tapped to take his place. Samuel’s sons were corrupt and the people knew it. They wanted different leadership.

The lesson in that is be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. What the people got was their first king named Saul. Saul, who was “the most handsome man in all Israel–head and shoulders above everyone else in the land” (1 Samuel 9:2). Unfortunately this tall handsome guy turned out to be half-crazy and disobedient, and was ultimately rejected by God as King of Israel (1 Samuel 15).

Enter God’s call to Samuel to anoint another King in Saul’s place, and this takes us to the sleepy little town outside Jerusalem called Bethlehem where Jesse and his family keep flocks for a living. Jesse is the grandson of Ruth and Boaz (find their story here), and the Lord tells Samuel to go and anoint one of Jesse’s sons as the new King He has chosen for His people Israel.

Samuel is hesitant to do so (What if Saul finds out?), so the Lord tells Samuel to go to Bethlehem to offer a sacrifice and invite Jesse’s family to the sacrifice, and while you’re at it, take the horn of oil–kinda’ keep it out of sight until the time is right–and when I tell you, anoint a new King.

I could chase a rabbit here and explore the idea that God uses deception to accomplish His will, but that’s for another day. I’m just going to leave that thought right there because I really want to understand what God sees when He looks at David’s (and my) heart.

Samuel makes the trek to Bethlehem, invites Jesse’s family and begins to parade Jesse’s sons before the gathered body. Eliab, the oldest, is brought forward first. “Surely,” Samuel thinks, “this is the one.” He’s the oldest, so it’s got to be him, right? Wrong!

It’s then that the Lord announces to Samuel verse 7. See, Samuel just can’t get past appearances. Eliab is the oldest, perhaps the tallest, too. Samuel uses the same standard for David that was used for the previous King, Saul. Even the prophet/judge Samuel misses the mark. He does what we all are prone to doing–we like judging a book by its cover. The Lord says, “Not so fast!”

In order from oldest to youngest, seven of Jesse’s sons are brought to Samuel. All seven are rejected. Finally, Samuel asks Jesse if there are any more sons. “Yes,” he replies, “but he’s the youngest and he’s busy tending the flocks since you’ve got the rest of us here.”

“Send for him,” Saul says. “We’re not having supper until he gets here.”

David arrives. He is the chosen one. Saul anoints him as Israel’s next King. The Lord looked past his appearance and saw his heart.

This is where it gets really sticky for me. I (along with countless pastors in the past) have preached that there was something special about David’s heart. If we could just figure out what that was, we could learn how to be “people after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14 and Acts 13:22).

Godly Character

Yeah, I came up with lots of good sermon material. I can easily come up with 10 characteristics that reflect David’s heart. All one has to do is read the Psalms:

Humility – Lowborn men are but a breath, the highborn are but a lie; if weighed on a balance, they are nothing; together they are only a breath. Psalm 62:9

Reverence – I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies. Psalm 18:3

Respectfulness – Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. Psalm 31:9

Trust – The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1

Loving – I love you, O Lord, my strengthPsalm 18:1

Devotion – You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound. Psalm 4:7

Recognition – I will praise you, O Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonders. Psalm 9:1

Faithfulness – Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Psalm 23:6

Obedience – Give me understanding, and I will keep your law and obey it with all my heart. Psalm 119:34

Repentance – For the sake of your name, O Lord, forgive my iniquity, though it is great. Psalm 25:11

Yeah, that would make a great (and long) sermon. Hey, if I could just exhibit those characteristics, I’d be a great Christian. The Lord would see my heart and He’d just smile.

A Dose of Reality

But, there are two passages of Scripture that have given me “heart-burn” as I’ve prayed over this passage. The first is found in Jeremiah 17: 9-10:

The heart is deceitful above all things
    and beyond cure.
    Who can understand it?

10 “I the Lord search the heart
    and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
    according to what their deeds deserve.”

The second is in Romans:

There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, 23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. (Romans 3: 22b-24 NIV)

In light of Jeremiah 17 and Romans 3, I’m not so sure David had a great heart. I’m not so sure I do, either!

Yes, David could be all the things we talked about. He could have great faith and be wonderfully obedient. He could show proper reverence, respect and humility. He could be a great leader of people. He could be all those things, but he could also be an adulterer and murderer (2 Samuel 11). Let’s not forget that he was a less than stellar parent, too (2 Samuel 13-14).

I, too, want to say I have a heart after God’s heart, but then I look at my own heart and think, “Do I really?” No! I’m much like Rev. Alexander Whyte, who upon receiving great praise from one of his happy congregants, replied, “Madam, if you could see my heart, you’d spit in my face.”

Yes, being able to develop godly characteristics will always make me a better person, but being a better person will not save me. Only Jesus Christ can save me! How do I get from my sad, sinful heart to God’s heart? Only through Jesus Christ. He is the key. That must be what God sees when He looks at David’s heart. I pray it is what He sees when He looks at mine.

How so?

I take my clue from John Woodhouse, who translates the passage thusly: “For the Lord sees not as man sees, for man sees according to the eyes, but the Lord sees according to the heart.” It is a subtle, but major difference in this and the translation of most interpreters. In this rendering, it is God’s heart that He sees…meaning that David was chosen according to God’s purpose, just as Israel was “chosen” by God.

God views everything according to His own intentions and purposes. what I mean is that God’s choice is not on account of any peculiar fondness that he has for David—not because he has a particular liking to David, a liking that he doesn’t share for the other brothers, or that David has a peculiar and special quality which makes him attractive to God.

What it means is the fact that God, because he is God and because he is sovereign, is able to divinely select the one who is to be the king. And what it has to deal with is the fact of God’s electing (we Wesleyans hate that word) love rather than some notion of the suitability of a particular person.

Our Only Hope

It’s not that David’s heart was full of God, but rather that God’s heart was full of David. It was God looking through David’s heart to see Jesus Christ. It’s all about the place the man has in God’s heart rather than the place God has in the man’s heart.

I can only trust that when God looks at my heart, he sees Jesus Christ. If He doesn’t, I am lost, indeed, for only in Jesus Christ can I find redemption, reconciliation and salvation. He alone is my source of hope. I will put my trust in Him alone.

I’ve probably muddied the waters for everyone except myself, but I have, at least for myself, gotten to the “heart” of the matter. After all, every event in the Old Testament is leading us to Jesus. My own righteousness is as filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6). I can’t depend on my own heart. I can only depend on the loving heart of God.

I want to be a man who has a place in God’s heart.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Happy Mother’s Day…

Let me go ahead and say it, “Happy Mother’s Day!” to all the moms out there. What in the world would we do without you?

Apparently, it’s uncouth to say it or celebrate it in today’s culture because some mothers have failed at being good mothers, or because some children are estranged from their mothers, or because of the grief and pain that comes in having lost a mother or a mother having lost children. And, we shouldn’t forget those who always wanted to be mothers and couldn’t, for whatever reason. For all these (and more), Mother’s Day is just too triggering, so we should simply forego the occasion.

Oh! Let’s also not forget that it’s also become such a Hallmark holiday that it should be shunned so as not to make big corporations any richer. Yup! There’s that!

With all the sincerity I can muster, I say to all of those persons–“I’m sorry for your loss, or for your experience. I truly am. I pray that you can find peace on your journey, and that the Lord gives you strength for each day.”

A Tragic Story of Motherhood

At the same time, I’m going to say, “Happy Mother’s Day!” to all those moms who have faithfully served their children and their families. You’ve got the toughest job in the world, and the overwhelming majority of you do it with strength, concern, wisdom and courage.

Strength. Concern. Wisdom. Courage. Four characteristics of faithful mothers that I actually find lived out in the life of a mother that were born of tragic circumstances, and out of those tragic circumstances came the Savior of the world. Yes, I’m thinking about Ruth in the Old Testament.

Tucked away in the Old Testament between Judges and 1 Samuel is the compelling story of Ruth, and her place in the lineage of Jesus. Equally compelling is the story of Ruth’s mother-in-law in surviving tragic events in her life to play her part in setting the stage for the coming of God’s Kingdom. It is to Naomi that I look this morning as I reflect on mothers this Mother’s Day.

Naomi’s story begins in tragedy:

In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land. So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab. The man’s name was Elimelek, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Kilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem,Judah. And they went to Moab and lived there. (Ruth 1:1-2 NIV)

Naomi and her family depart Bethlehem (the house of bread) because there is no bread. Worse still, they go to Moab–called “God’s washbasin” by the Psalmist (108:9). Not a great move, but in hard times, you do what you need to do.

Add to the fact this was happening during the period of the Judges, the writer seems to indicate that not only was it a time of literal famine, but also during a time of spiritual famine. Remember what it says in Judges 21:25? “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.”

But, there is more tragedy revealed in these opening words. Her two sons? Mahlon and Killion? Yeah, their names mean “sickly” and “puny.” Not what you would call model circumstances for the model family.

The tragedy ain’t over, either. They get to Moab and her husband (Elimelech) dies. Naomi, in a strange land and with no support network, loses her husband and is left with her sickly son and her puny son. Can things get any worse?

They married Moabite women, one named Orpah and the other Ruth (Ruth 1:4a NIV).

Yup! They married Moabite women, thus breaking Jewish law. Tragedy on top of tragedy on top of tragedy. But, that’s not all the tragedy:

After they had lived there about ten years, both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband (Ruth 1:4b-5 NIV).

Now, without her sons, Naomi is left to fend for herself and her two daughters-in-law…in a foreign country, no less. She decides she has no way of supporting herself in a strange land, so she determines to return to Bethlehem. We discover Naomi’s grace in her willingness to release Oprah and Ruth from their obligation to her (Ruth 1:8).

She was doing what mothers do: making the sacrifice for the betterment of her children.

Oprah chose to return to her family of origin, but Ruth chose to stay with Naomi, and in so doing, gives us one of the most moving passages in the Bible:

16 But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. 17 Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me” (Ruth 1: 16-17 NIV).

Naomi and Ruth make their return to Bethlehem, and upon their arrival, Naomi, in true motherly fashion, sums up her life:

20 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. 21 I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me” (Ruth 1:20-21 NIV).

Grace Born in Tragedy

A tragic life borne of tragic circumstances that has brought some bitterness in her life. Yes to all of that, but I see strength and concern and wisdom and courage all along the way.

The author gives no indication that Naomi displays any grief. They only reflect that Naomi bore her pain and went on with life. Isn’t that what good mothers do? They get up and go on, and that takes incredible strength.

A Mother’s Strength

A mother’s strength is a mystery to us. It is such a mystery that the Jewish people have a proverb that says, “God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers.”

It took a strong woman to endure the circumstances that life had thrown Naomi’s way, and to encourage her daughters-in-law to return to their people. Our mothers…good and faithful mothers…are strong women–perhaps the strongest.

A Mother’s Concern

I also see a mother’s concern for her children in this unfolding tragedy. Naomi, knowing that she could not care for the spiritual, emotional or physical needs of Orpah and Ruth, was willing to forego her own happiness in favor of theirs. These two young ladies were the only connection she had left to her family, but she was willing to make the sacrifice.

Isn’t that just like a good mother? Always sacrificing her own needs for the needs of her children. That is what good mothers do.

Focus on the Family shared the story of 36-year-old Kara Tippet who was diagnosed with terminal cancer. One doctor told her to spend her remaining days enjoying the beach somewhere, while a second doctor offered to extend her life by a couple of years with some grueling treatments. She chose the treatments, writing these words to her children:

“I’ve chosen to try to survive for you. This has some horrible costs, including pain, loss of my good humor, and moods I won’t be able to control. But I must try this, if only on the outside chance that I might live one minute longer. And that minute could the be one you might need me when no one else will do. For this I intend to struggle, tooth and nail, so help me God.”

Actually, a good godly mother never surrenders her happiness for her children because her happiness comes from seeing the eyes of her child light up when she is there for him or her, no matter the cost to herself. That’s because they are concerned for their children.

A Mother’s Wisdom

A good mother is also so wise, and I see that wisdom reflected in Naomi. Mothers have an uncanny knack for knowing the right thing to say at the right time, or for knowing when to not say anything at all. Naomi’s wisdom is revealed in verse 18: “When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.”

Mom’s always know just what to do in those difficult and confusing situations of life. The Lord has granted most of our moms great wisdom, and for that we celebrate them.

A Mother’s Courage

I also see a mother’s courage reflected in Naomi’s life. What great courage it took for Naomi (which actually means “pleasantness”) to continue on with life even though it had become quite “bitter.” Mothers often appear to be superhuman, but they are not. Mothers have needs, too, but we too often fail to recognize them.

The courage of a mother allows her to hide those needs deep within her own self because she knows the high calling and hard task that God has given her. Can’t we, for just one day a year, take the time to recognize that moms have needs, too? I believe it is certainly okay to do so, even if it is triggering for some. Moms, most moms, are courageous, and for that we celebrate.

Let me close with a quote from Chuck Swindoll on the debt we owe to our mothers. Though it doesn’t apply to all mothers everywhere, it certainly applies to most mothers–the very one who made your life possible.

“Dear Mom:

As I walk through my museum of memories,

I owe you—for your time. Day and night.

I owe you—for your example. Consistent and dependable.

I owe you—for your support. Stimulating and challenging.

I owe you—for your humor. Sparky and quick.

I owe you—for your counsel. Wise and quiet.

I owe you—for your humility. Genuine and gracious.

I owe you—for your hospitality. Smiling and warm.

I owe you—for your insight. Keen and honest.

I owe you—for your flexibility. Patient and joyful.

I owe you—for your sacrifices. Numerous and quickly forgotten.

I owe you—for your faith. Solid and sure.

I owe you—for your hope. Ceaseless and indestructible.

I owe you—for your love. Devoted and deep.”

Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms–especially to Sonda Womack and Vanessa Malone. Your great strength, concern, wisdom and courage are shining examples of faithfulness for all your children.

Until next time, keep looking up…

An Old Fuddy-Duddy…

Well, I took a week off from preaching (and writing) after Easter. I suppose everyone needs a day off, right? Actually, the Sunday after Easter is known (at least to Senior Pastors) as National Associate Pastors Sunday! It’s the Sunday when, if you’re an associate Pastor, you finally get to preach. Everyone knows that Senior Pastors always take the Sunday after Easter off.

I am no longer a Senior Pastor…just a regular old pastor, but I still took the Sunday off, not for any other reason than I received an invitation to go with my son and two of my grandsons (and a few others) to the LSU vs. Tennessee baseball series in Baton Rouge. I figured, “Why not?” I am grateful for the invitation and grateful for the time away with my son and grandsons (we did a few other fun things besides go to the ball games). But, man! Did I learn something on this trip!

I learned (again) that I’m old! The older I get, the more of a fuddy-duddy I become. I don’t want to be a fuddy-duddy. I wake up most days and say to myself, “Self, don’t be a fuddy-duddy today,” but invariably, the devil gets up in my business, and before I know it, the fuddy-duddy in me rears his ugly head and there I am having to repent for being a fuddy-duddy.

This old fuddy-duddy learned that he doesn’t like crowds much anymore. The LSU-Tennessee 3-game series was the largest attendance series in Alex Box Stadium history, and the Saturday evening game was the largest single-game attendance in stadium history. Three days of large crowds absolutely wore me out! Three days of large crowds was just a bit too much for me. And, Friday night it rained. Everyone huddled under the bleachers to get out of the rain. It was easy to tell who hadn’t showered that morning!

I kept telling myself, “Hush, you old fuddy-duddy! You’re with your son and grandsons. Just enjoy the moment.” For the most part, I (well, me and the Holy Spirit) kept the old fuddy-duddy at bay, but I tell you, those large crowds like to got the best of me.

This old fuddy-duddy also learned that he likes his bedtime. Most nights, you will find me in bed by 8:30 p.m. Not last weekend! Friday night’s game didn’t even begin until 9:55 p.m. (due to the rain delay). I’m sorry, but I didn’t make it. I left before the game even started (I know–fuddy-duddy, right?) and still didn’t get to bed until after 11 p.m. Can you say, “Worn out?” Well, I was.

Saturday’s game started at 7:00 p.m., and I made it until the bitter end (bitter because LSU lost). That only means it was after midnight before I got back to my hotel room and made it to bed. Midnight? Really? That’s only three hours away from my normal getting up time! What was I thinking? I was thinking, “Shut up you old fuddy-duddy. You’re with your son and grandsons. Enjoy the moment.” For the most part, the Holy Spirit and I kept the old fuddy-duddy at bay, but I tell you, those late nights almost killed me.

I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I should just be keeping all this stuff to myself, continuing to repress the old fuddy-duddy in me. I suppose it’s just my way of revealing that the Lord’s sanctifying grace has still got some work to do in this old pastor. I’m grateful that He’s still graceful enough to continue his work, and that He is still in the transformation business.

I am reminded that He is still in the transformation business because I’ve been reflecting on John 2: 1 – 11:

On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there,and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”

“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”

His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing,each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.

Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.

Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”

They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside 10 and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

11 What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

It is Jesus’ first miracle, and He turns water into wine. It was John’s way of saying Jesus comes to transform the old covenant of the law into a new covenant of grace. There is a whole lot more to unpack than that simple statement, but that’s the crux of John’s inclusion of the event in his gospel. Hey? If Jesus can do that, there’s no limit to what He can do in you and me.

Jesus is in the transformation business. We think transformation comes from a new hairdo or wardrobe. Get a better job or learn a new skill. Lose weight or get a face lift. Jesus doesn’t want to change our looks, he wants to change our heart. He doesn’t want to give us a new suit; he wants to make us a new person. He doesn’t want to rearrange us; he wants to transform us. We want to look better on the outside. He wants to make us new on the inside.

That transformation will show on the outside. When Jesus changed the water into wine, he did not just change the color and fool the people’s taste buds — he actually changed the water into wine. When the water was turned to wine, the shame of the bridal family was turned to joy. The mood of the party was transformed. And Jesus’ disciples were transformed, too. Verse 11 says, “This miraculous sign…was Jesus first display of his glory. And his disciples believed in him.”

My prayer is that He transforms this old fuddy-duddy…that the work He desires to do on the inside of me will make its way to the outside, so everyone else doesn’t see that I’m just an old fuddy-duddy. I really do want my son and grandsons to know how much I enjoyed our time together, and how grateful I am for the opportunity provided by someone else’s generosity.

Oh, well, it’s time to get ready for worship.

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…

I Still Don’t Understand…

I’ve been contemplating Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son all week in preparation for Sunday. I’ve preached the parable many times before (find one example here), so one of things that makes it so difficult to preach again is finding something fresh and new to say.

You remember the parable, right? A man had two sons. The younger son tells the father that he wants his share of his father’s estate now. The father divides his estate between his two sons and the younger son travels to a distant land where he wastes his money in “prodigal” living.

When the younger son “comes to himself,” he devises a scheme to return home to the father. Surprisingly, the father receives him back and throws the grandest of parties for his lost son who is now found.

Meanwhile, the older son returns home after working in the father’s fields. He discovers the party being thrown for the younger son and becomes angry. He refuses to go in and participate, so the father comes out to him. “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found‘” (Luke 15:32).

A Story Once Told

I’ve shared the story of the first time my grandfather let me drive solo (find it here), so I’ll not share it here again, but I said that I didn’t understand it then that my grandfather was painting me a picture of God’s grace. As a matter of full confession, now that I’m so much older (that was almost 50 years ago!), I’m not so sure I understand it any better. Oh, I understand what my grandfather was doing, but I don’t really understand grace any better.

Okay, okay, okay! Yes, I do understand grace better…and, that’s the problem. I understand it. I just don’t want to live it. In my old age…the age when I should be living more as the Father than either of the sons…I find myself in the older son.

Jesus told the story to the scribes and Pharisees who were complaining about Jesus eating with sinners. In response to their complaint, he tells three stories: the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. Each one builds upon the other with the climax being the return of the lost son to the family. It is no wonder, that in response to the Pharisee and scribes, the story ends with the father’s interaction with the older son. The implication is clear: the older son was representative of the scribes and Pharisees.

Good Guys or Bad Guys

This is where it gets sticky for me. The scribes and the Pharisees in the New Testament are the bad guys, right? But, I consider the older son for a moment and I think, “Wait! He’s really not that bad.”

Here’s what we know about the older son. First, he was industrious. He was working the fields. He was doing his duty. Aren’t those laudable characteristics?

He was also very prudent. He said to his father, “…this son of yours has squandered your property…”

The older son exhibited loyalty to the father. He was where he was supposed to be doing what he was supposed to be doing. As a matter of fact, it was his loyalty, industriousness and prudence that kept the family farm together. It was because of him that the younger son even had a place to return to at all. He was the good son.

I want to be the good son. I like hard work. I like industriousness. I like prudence. I like loyalty. What is the danger in any of those qualities? Well, I can only tell you what I see in me…

The Pharisee in Me

First, sometimes I think I care more about tradition than I do people. I get too busy working that I don’t see the need of people around me…or I just don’t care. Apparently, the older brother knew what the younger son was up to: “squandered your property on prostitutes” (vs. 30). He knew but he didn’t do anything about it. Was it because he didn’t care?

Have I become hardened to the brokenness of others? Am I indifferent to the suffering around me? I’m reminded of what Clovis Chappell said, “There is no more dangerous or cruel sin than that of indifference–the ability to look upon the wounds and woes of others and be unmoved.”

God help me, but sometimes I really feel like I don’t care! I feel like a man standing on a pier watching someone drown and rather than throwing them a rope I simply say, “Shoulda’ learned to swim like I did.”

The world is going to hell. The world needs grace and I need to show it, but it’s just so hard! It’s hard because of the second thing I see in me, and that is that my sense of duty and justice have taken the place of joy in my life. My sense of justice can cause me to get angry. I didn’t say righteously indignant. There’s a difference.

Righteous indignation is born of love. Anger is born of envy. Jesus demonstrated righteous indignation when he drove the money changers out to the Temple (Matthew 21: 12-17). It was his love and concern for the people that motivated him. On the other hand, it was the envy of the Pharisees that motivated them to pursue Jesus, even to his death. What motivates me? I wonder?

Become the Father

This older son was farther away from the father than the younger son ever was. He may have been close in proximity, but he was further in experience. I think it is because the older son just didn’t understand the father. The father tells him, “Everything I have is yours…(vs. 31).” The father had already given it to him: “So he divided his property between them (v. 12).” The older son spent a lifetime trying to earn what he had already been given.

The implication of the entire story is for all of us–both older sons and younger–sons to become like the father. But, I’m just going to leave it right here–grace is easier to receive than it is to give. Honestly, the Father has got a whole lot more work to do in me.

So, I guess that’s why I still don’t understand. Maybe one day I will.

Until next time, keep looking up…

A Good, Short Sermon (?)…

The adage is “There is no such thing as a bad, short sermon.” I choose to disagree. As a one-time District Superintendent, I will say that I’ve actually heard some bad short sermons. Actually, I’ve heard some bad sermons, and I found myself giving thanks to the good Lord that they were short. If one has to endure bad sermons, it is good when they’re short!

Why am I talking about short sermons? Well, as one who has been known to preach long sermons, I’m trying my hand at a short sermon this morning. Why a short sermon? Numerous reasons, but primarily because we’re having a potluck after worship this morning, and we have to flip our worship space into fellowship space. That, and the food will get cold. Oh, and I have to be in Dallas before 5:00 p.m., and I need to hit the road.

Yes, I know. Selfish reasons for preaching a short sermon, but it is what it is. The problem lies in the fact that my chosen passage (Luke 8: 26 – 39) is a long and difficult passage. How does one distill demon-possession, cemeteries and suicidal pigs into a 1,000 word manuscript? I’ll give it a try. My fear is the congregation will like it and they’re response will be, “Why can’t all your sermons be that short?”

So, here goes…

A Brief Introduction

I really should have entitled the sermon “Comfortable with Our Crazy,” because that’s what we find in the unfolding events of Luke 8: 26 – 39. I went, instead, with “A Disturbing Presence,” because as we read the passage, we are a bit disturbed by the entire scene.

I mean, really, demon possessed people, graveyards and suicidal pigs is enough to disturb anyone. Yet, as disturbing as those images tend to be, the most disturbing presence is Jesus, Himself. When Jesus comes to town, He tends to disturb everything.

Our natural tendency is to focus on the demon possessed man whom the community has sent to the cemetery. You know? That’s what we do with broken people. We send them to the margins. “That man is crazy! Let’s push him away. We can’t deal with his kind of crazy.”

If we were doing an in-depth bible study, we’d take time to look at this whole idea of demon possession because we are a bit disturbed by the whole idea. This is, however, a Sunday morning sermon and we’ve got food getting cold, so we’re not going to dive into that subject.

The Power of Jesus

This is, ultimately, not a story about demon possessed people. It’s a story about the power of Jesus to transform a broken life. It’s a story about the authority of Jesus, even over the darkest of powers. It’s a story about Jesus’ call to tell others about the goodness of God, so, let’s focus on Jesus this morning.

Let’s focus on the disturbance Jesus brings to the demons. This man lived among the tombs, isolated from society, stripped of dignity, and enslaved by spiritual oppression. Yet, Jesus does not avoid him; instead, He steps into his brokenness with authority and compassion.

This reminds us that Jesus is not intimidated by the darkness in our lives. He has the power to confront and overcome anything that binds us, whether it be sin, addiction, or fear (Luke 8:29-33). His authority over the supernatural demonstrates that He is Lord over all creation.

I am reminded of what the Apostle Paul told the Church at Philippi: “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2: 10 –  11 NKJV).

The Inclusivity of the Gospel

Jesus not only disturbed the demons, but He also disturbed the pig-herders. I mean, seriously, he destroyed their livelihood. If we were doing that Bible study on this passage, we’d look at the significance of the pigs in the encounter, but since it’s a Sunday morning sermon and it is supposed to be short, we’re only going to mention that the fact there were pigs nearby indicates Jesus was in Gentile territory. 

So, what do we learn about Jesus? The Gospel is for everyone! Jesus intentionally went to Gentile territory to spread the Good News. The Gospel is the most inclusive message in the world, but the very nature of the Gospel is it’s power to transform people. Jesus doesn’t intend to leave us the way he found us, either individually or corporately. His Gospel transforms people and entire communities.

The Real Disturbance

When we talk about communities, we can’t overlook how disturbing Jesus was to the townspeople. They had become comfortable with crazy, and when Jesus showed up to deal with the crazy, they preferred crazy to Christ. 

What was their response when they saw the crazy, naked, homeless man clothed and sitting in his right mind? It wasn’t “Oh, how wonderful. Now we can invite him back into the community and to his family.” No. It was, “Hey, Jesus? Could you just leave and leave us alone?” 

Jesus’ presence there on the seashore became a threat to the townsfolk’ own complacency. He upset their apple cart. And worse still, he cost them money. After all, 2,000 pigs cost a lot of money in the first century. Jesus took their known, comfortable circumstances (they had gotten used to the crazy man in the cemetery and knew how to handle that situation), and forced them to confront the unknown. They could cope with the known, even if the known was bad, but they were afraid of the unknown.

The most disturbing thing of all is the fact that the power of God was at work among the people and they failed to see it. Jesus’ presence forced the people to confront the evil that was around them, and that was a very uncomfortable position. We’d rather turn a blind eye to evil around us. Doing so allows us to turn a blind eye to the evil within us.

That is what is most disturbing. If Jesus can drive out someone else’s demons, He might be able to drive out mine. I’m rather comfortable with my own sins. “No, Jesus, could you just leave me alone? I don’t want to be disturbed?”

A Brief Conclusion

Jesus comes in power to transform us and our communities. As the old hymn says,

He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
he sets the prisoner free;
his blood can make the foulest clean;
his blood availed for me.

There are only two responses to the power of Jesus among us. One, is to follow Jesus’ command to the healed man—“Go tell others about the goodness of God,” or two, ask Jesus to leave us alone.

My friends, we are called to tell others about the goodness of God! That is the mission of the Church. Unfortunately, too many of us in the Church would rather be left alone. Which will you choose today?

So, you tell me–a good, short sermon? Eh! Maybe I should stick to longer ones.

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…

Getting Old Ain’t for Sissies…(Lessons I’ve Learned by Getting Old)

It must be because I’ve been spending too much time in doctor’s offices, but I’m starting to feel old. I’m looking old, that’s for sure. All I have to do is walk by a mirror. The hair is getting grayer, the face a little more wrinkled. That much I can tell. Now, though, the looking and the feeling are catching up with each other.

Getting older has some advantages (though only a few). One advantage is grandchildren. Grandchildren are the cat’s meow, as they say. I’ve said before that if I had known grandchildren were this much fun, I would have skipped the children and gone straight for the grandchildren.

Another advantage is wisdom. Perhaps Job summed it up best when he said, “wisdom belongs to the aged, and understanding to the old” (Job 12:12 NLT), so there’s that! Solomon (the wisest man who ever lived) is credited with saying, “A gray head is a crown of glory; it is found in the way of righteousness” (Proverbs 16:31 NIV).

I’m willing to take Job and Solomon at their word. Sitting in doctor’s offices gives one lots of time to think. As I sat there awaiting my turn, I began to make a few mental notes of what I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older. I began to jot out a few of those lessons and I thought I’d might share those with you.

Lesson #1: I’m not Superman!

Did you ever believe that you needed to know everything? I used to believe that, and if I didn’t know something, I’d make something up just so I could provide an answer. I may not have always been right, but I was never in doubt!

I also believed I had to be in total control of my emotions, that I needed to make a ton of money, that I had to be naturally athletic, never get lost, never feel physical pain and that I had to know everything about cars and machinery. I don’t believe those things anymore.

I’m really not Superman, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Not only am I not able to, I no longer want to. I’m absolutely comfortable in my skin knowing what I know AND knowing what I don’t know. Actually, the older I’ve gotten, the more I know I don’t know, and the more I can admit I don’t know.

Lesson # 2: I’m not entitled to anything.

I really can’t say much about everyone else’s sense of entitlement, especially since it took me getting older to figure out I’m not entitled to anything.

I tried to figure out where this sense of entitlement comes from. It would be real easy to blame it on being an American citizen where our government (and by our government, I mean us) has developed numerous “entitlement” programs to keep us happy, but it could as easily come from being a consumer. More likely, though, it comes from simply being a man (a human) who is, in his unregenerate nature, selfish.

The older I’ve gotten, though, I’ve discovered that life…all of life…is sheer grace! Life is a gift and it is to be enjoyed as the gift that it is.

Our recent little house fire is an example. Oh, we are blessed, indeed! The fire could have been so much worse. We don’t know why it burned itself out, but it is grace that it did. Yes, there’s been consternation with clean-up companies and contractors, but even that is grace. Maybe the Lord is trying to teach me patience, and that is grace, too.

I’m not entitled to anything, and until I crucify that sense, it will be one of the greatest roadblocks to faithfulness to Jesus.

Lesson #3: Emotions are good things.

I grew up believing that it was okay to ask a man what he thinks, but never, ever ask a man what he feels. I don’t know that anyone specifically taught me that. I think it was just understood. Emotions were the domain of the fairer sex. Maybe it’s just the generation I am from.

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to understand and accept that the Lord gives us two ways to know him–our thoughts AND our emotions. We are emotional creatures. He made us that way. After all, we are created in His image, right?

Jesus was filled with emotion. He wept (John 11:35). He was angry (Matthew 21: 12 – 17). He was sorrowful (Matthew 26:38). He was compassionate (Mark 6:38). I could go on, but you get the picture.

I could make a similar list for God, the Father. He demonstrates grief (Genesis 6:6). He expressed anger (Deut. 9:22). He is compassionate (Judges 2:18). Again, you get the picture.

Admittedly, our emotions are subject to the sin within us, so we can’t depend upon them as an arbiter of salvation, but it is healthy to express our emotions rather than keeping them buttoned down. We men don’t have to be James Bond–always in control…of our emotions and everything else.

Lesson #4: I can’t do life alone.

Remember what God said in Genesis 2:18? Sure, you do–“The Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him’.” We are created for community. We are, by nature, social animals. We need each other.

I’ll confess that I need Vanessa. I can’t imagine doing life without her. Heck, we practically raised one another (well, she raised me more than I raised her, but that’s another story). We married at age 18, and this October, we will celebrate 44 years together. We need each other!

As a man, though, I also need men in my life. God created men and women differently (Praise God!), and there are issues that men grapple with that women simply don’t understand, and there are issues women grapple with that men will never get. Yes, Vanessa is my best friend, but I need other (male) friends to share this journey of life with.

As a good Wesleyan, we need to practice accountability, and having male (or female) friends gives us an opportunity to do just that. Yes, we also need our time away from the crowds, but even when Jesus went away, he often took Peter, James and John with him.

I can’t do life alone!

Lesson #5: Power can be a positive thing.

This one might be a little touchy given the current climate toward masculinity, but sometimes I just need to “man-up.” Sometimes, my wife and my children (and grandchildren) need me to be a “knight in shining armor.” There is a reason we liked to play cops and robbers when we were kids. It was a natural reflection of and development for our masculinity. Masculinity is also the reason most little boys want to grow up to be firemen and astronauts. Yes, women can be those things, too, but I don’t know very many little girls who dream of being cops or firemen. That only comes as they get closer to adulthood.

Power used appropriately can be a very positive thing. I’m thinking of Ronald Reagan and his famous speech at the Berlin Wall: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” It was an exercise of power designed to make the world a better place. That is an appropriate use of authority/power.

Anytime I can use my power/authority to make life better for my family, my community, my church or others, then it is very positive, indeed. I shouldn’t be afraid of my masculinity in the service of others. It was Jesus who said, “All authority on heaven and earth has been given to me. Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:18). It was authority used appropriately. I need to be like Jesus.

Lesson #6: “No” is a complete sentence.

I heard someone say once that “No” is a complete sentence. It took me getting older to understand how correct they were. I spent so much of my ministry years trying to be everything to everybody that I ended up making commitments that I neither could or wanted to keep. I made myself miserable by never turning anyone down.

Honestly, it was utter irresponsibility on my part. It wasn’t fair to those to whom I made commitments. It certainly wasn’t fair to my family, and it was killing me. I know it was the people-pleaser in me at work, and the devil would use it as a way to distract me from the more important elements of spiritual discipline.

In more recent years, I’ve said, “No,” to a lot of good things, but we have to say no to the good things so that we can say yes to the best things…or the more important things…or the more meaningful things.

And besides, as someone else said, “No for now is not no forever.” There may be a time when you can willingly fulfill a commitment that you can’t abide right now. You never know what door the Lord will open later on.

Lesson #7: I’m a lot braver than I give myself credit for.

Men are supposed to be courageous. Though I wanted to be Batman or Superman, I think I spent more of my life as Barney Fife.

May I say, though, that just the fact that I’m older is a testament to the fact that I’m braver than I ever gave myself credit for? Seriously, life is hard and to have made it this far proves that just living takes courage. I survived a car accident that, by mere inches, could have ended my life.

Hey, I survived raising children! That’s not for sissies either. They’re all productive, contributing members of society. I haven’t always been able to say that. Now I can say that, and I say it with humility and gratitude. Nope, I didn’t do it alone, and that’s another indication of courage. Vanessa and I have survived over 43 years of marriage.

Surviving life takes courage. That’s a reality. Just knowing that I can write this and you can read it is a testimony to the fact that we’re brave enough to get up every day and do life. The bravest thing a person can do is admit his limitations (mine are abundant). That’s why I’ve learned to trust Jesus for my salvation. He is the greatest source of our strength.

Conclusion

No, growing old isn’t for sissies. I have learned in all this that getting older isn’t about growing weaker, or more confused, or more limited. Growing older is about growing up and learning to understand what it means to be made in the image of God. That’s a lesson I’m still learning.

What about you? What lessons are you learning? Share them in the comments. I’d love to hear from you.

Until next time, keep looking up…