The Difficult Work of Christian Restoration

Every person carries burdens. Some arrive through no fault of our own—a diagnosis, a death, a job loss, a broken relationship, a season of grief. The church is often at its best when those burdens appear. We show up with meals, prayers, financial assistance, and a steady presence. We do what we can to make sure no one carries the weight alone.

But there is another kind of burden we discuss less easily: the weight created by our own sin.

That burden may include guilt, shame, damaged trust, consequences we cannot escape, and the hard work of repentance. What does a Spirit-formed community do when someone has made a terrible decision? Do we stand back and explain why they fell? Make an example of them? Discuss their failure with everyone except them? Decide that their worst decision is the truest thing about them and leave them beneath its weight?

Or do we help them stand again?

Restoration Requires Truth and Gentleness

Paul answers that question in Galatians 6, immediately after describing the fruit of the Spirit. After naming love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, he writes:

Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.”

Then Paul turns directly to the person caught in sin:

Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.”

Conceited people provoke, compare, condemn, and keep their distance. Spirit-formed people move toward the fallen with gentleness. One way to measure whether the Spirit is forming us is by examining how we respond to someone else’s failure.

Paul does not tell us to excuse the sin, pretend it never happened, call evil good, or remove every consequence. He tells us to restore the person—and to do it gently. The word translated restore was used for mending a torn net or setting a broken bone. Restoration is careful work because the person is already wounded. Even a self-inflicted wound can be made worse by careless hands. Gentleness is not weakness, and it does not require us to avoid the truth. Setting a broken bone requires us to tell the truth about what is broken. But that truth must be handled by hands committed to healing rather than humiliation.

Get Beneath the Burden

Paul continues:

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

We often separate this instruction from the verse before it and apply it only to illness, grief, or financial hardship. Those applications are right, but Paul’s immediate context is the person caught in sin. The guilt, shame, damaged relationships, and difficult road back to faithfulness are also burdens the church is called to help carry. Burden-bearing means walking with another person even through their worst decisions. It means saying:

“You have made a terrible decision. I will not pretend otherwise. But I will not abandon you beneath the weight of it. We will walk through this together.”

That kind of presence is messy and costly. It is much easier to offer advice from a distance than to get beneath the load. But when we bear another person’s burden, we embody grace. We remind the fallen that repentance is possible, forgiveness is real, consequences do not mean abandonment, and their worst decision does not have to have the final word.

Peter made a terrible decision. After promising that he would never abandon Jesus, he denied Him three times. The risen Christ did not pretend the denial never happened. On the seashore, Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love Me?” He brought Peter back to face his failure—not to humiliate him, but to restore him.

Feed My sheep. Follow Me.

Truth. Grace. Restoration. Discipleship. Jesus refused to let Peter’s worst decision have the final word.

Restore the Person, Not Necessarily the Position

Paul says, “Carry each other’s burdens,” and then, only a few sentences later, “Each one should carry their own load.” The first word can describe a crushing weight; the second points to personal responsibility. There are burdens we must help one another carry, but there are also responsibilities each person must bear before God.

Burden-bearing does not mean taking responsibility for someone else’s choices. We cannot repent for them, force them to tell the truth, manufacture humility, or perform the work of obedience on their behalf. We can walk beside them, pray, listen, speak truth, establish boundaries, and help them identify the next faithful step—but they must take it.

This distinction becomes especially important when the person once occupied a position of responsibility. In recent years, the serious moral failures of several prominent pastors have become public. Churches have then debated whether those pastors should be “restored to ministry.” But Galatians 6 tells us to restore the person. It does not necessarily tell us to restore the position.

Our task is not to rescue a career, recover a platform, or repair a reputation. It is to help the person bring the burden to Christ and return to faithful fellowship with Him and His church. Sometimes the clearest evidence of restoration is the humility to live faithfully without the former platform.

The goal is not to return people to prominence. It is to return them to faithfulness.

Restoration Is a Field We Cultivate

Paul then turns to the principle of sowing and reaping: “A man reaps what he sows.” In the larger context, he is speaking about the whole life of faithfulness, but his words certainly apply to the slow work of restoration. Restoration is hard, patient cultivation. Like a garden, the ground must be prepared, seed must be planted, weeds must be pulled, and the gardener must keep showing up and then wait.

Long conversations, intentional prayer, uncomfortable truths, patient listening, clear boundaries, practical assistance, and consistent presence are the implements of restoration. We cannot sow a few words of advice and expect an immediate harvest. Restoration is a field we cultivate, not a moment we announce. We cannot force the harvest, and the person being restored remains responsible for how they respond. Progress may be uneven. Setbacks may come. That is why Paul writes:

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

The church should be the place where sin is taken seriously but fallen people are not discarded—where truth confronts us, grace carries us, and love helps us stand again. That does not mean every relationship returns to what it was, every position is restored, or every consequence disappears. It means no person is reduced to the worst thing they have ever done, and we keep believing that the grace of Jesus can still produce a harvest of faithfulness.

Jesus did not stand at a distance and explain the burden of our sin. He came near, got beneath its weight, and carried it to the cross.

The self-righteous stand above the fallen. The followers of Jesus get beneath the burden.

We are not called to return people to prominence. We are called to return people to faithfulness. And we do not abandon people beneath the weight of their worst decisions.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

Forgiveness and Healing: Grace Is Greater Than the Wound

When someone wounds us, something inside us begins keeping an account.

They owe me an apology. They owe me an explanation. They owe me the years I lost. They owe me the innocence they took. They owe me the trust they destroyed. They owe me for the humiliation, grief, or pain they caused.

Some of those debts are real. Forgiveness does not say otherwise.

But forgiveness does determine what we will do with the debt.

Paul writes in Ephesians 4:32, “Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

The word Paul uses for “forgiving” is charizomai. It comes from the same root as charis, the word we translate as grace. It can mean to give freely, to grant graciously, or to forgive.

Forgiveness, in Paul’s language, is grace in relational form.

It is not primarily a feeling. If we wait until we feel like forgiving, we may wait for the rest of our lives. Forgiveness is a grace-shaped decision concerning what we will do with the debt created by another person’s sin against us.

We decide that we will not spend the rest of our lives trying to collect that debt through bitterness, retaliation, humiliation, or revenge. We release our personal claim to make the other person suffer as payment for what they did, and we place justice into the hands of God.

That does not mean all earthly consequences disappear. It does not mean a crime should go unreported, restitution should never be made, or accountability should be abandoned. Grace and accountability are not enemies. Forgiveness simply means that I refuse to make revenge the organizing purpose of my life.

Forgiveness Tells the Truth

We need to speak carefully about forgiveness because, in our hurry to tell hurting people they need to forgive, Christians have sometimes failed to acknowledge how deeply they were wounded.

Forgiveness is not denying that the wound happened. It is not minimizing the seriousness of the offense. It is not calling evil good. It is not excusing the offender by saying, “They couldn’t help it,” or “It really wasn’t that bad.”

Forgiveness is not forgetting. We sometimes say, “Forgive and forget,” as though faithful Christians should be able to erase painful memories. Human minds do not work that way, and Scripture does not command spiritual amnesia. Some experiences leave marks that remain for a lifetime.

Forgiveness does not automatically restore trust. Forgiveness can be given; trust must be rebuilt through truth, repentance, consistency, and time. Reconciliation may not always be possible, and forgiveness never requires someone to remain in an abusive or unsafe relationship.

Forgiveness does not eliminate consequences. A forgiven person may still lose a position, face legal consequences, or live with a permanently changed relationship. Grace does not erase wisdom, boundaries, accountability, or justice.

These distinctions matter because some people carry not only the pain of what was done to them but also the shame of believing their continued pain proves they have failed to forgive.

Healing is not always immediate. Forgiveness may begin with a decisive act, but with a deep wound it may also require repeated surrender. We may have to place the same hurt into God’s hands more than once.

The capacity of grace to forgive never diminishes the depth of the wound.

Grace is able to tell the whole truth. It can say, “What happened was wrong. It hurt me. It changed something. There were consequences. I did not deserve it.” Grace can say all of that without allowing hatred to have the final word.

Look at the cross. God’s grace never treated sin as insignificant. At the cross, God named the horror of sin and revealed the depth of divine love at the same time. Grace tells the truth about sin—and then demonstrates that sin will not have the last word.

Grace Is Greater

When we say grace is greater than the wound, we are not comparing levels of pain. We are not telling someone, “Your wound should not matter because grace matters more.” We are saying that the sin committed against us does not possess greater power than the grace of Jesus Christ at work within us.

Grace does not make the wound smaller. Grace keeps the wound from becoming greater than Jesus Christ.

Paul does not begin with the person who hurt us, the size of the offense, or the strength of our willpower. He begins with what God has already done for us: “just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

We do not forgive to earn grace. We forgive because we have received grace. Forgiveness is not the price we pay to be forgiven by God. It is the fruit produced in people who know how much they have already been forgiven.

Grace received becomes grace extended.

We love grace when it moves in our direction. We sing about the grace that forgives our sins and reconciles us to God. We are less enthusiastic when that same grace moves toward those who have wounded us. We want mercy to explain what we did and justice to define what they did. We want the Lord to remember our weakness but remember their wickedness.

Paul does not allow us to separate the grace we receive from the grace we extend. The grace that comes to us through Jesus Christ takes shape in the way we respond to one another.

That is why forgiveness reveals so much about our spiritual formation. It is possible to know the language of grace without being gracious. It is possible to explain forgiveness while refusing to forgive. It is possible to celebrate what Christ has done for us while resisting what Christ wants to do through us.

My capacity to forgive is directly related to the depth of my spiritual formation.

That statement is not intended to shame anyone struggling to forgive. Some wounds are extraordinarily deep, and the path of healing may be long. The struggle itself may become the place where we learn to depend upon grace more deeply than ever before.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than the sin of the person who wounded me. And if grace is greater than the sin that wounded me, then grace is greater than the wound that sin left behind.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than my wound.

What Is Discipling Us?

The pain of a wound is not an idol, and feeling that pain is not a spiritual failure. But a wound begins to occupy the place that belongs to Christ when it defines who we are, determines how we see others, dictates our decisions, and claims authority over our future.

Before long, we are no longer simply remembering the wound. We are allowing the wound to disciple us.

The wound may be part of my story, but grace refuses to let it become the author of my story. Forgiveness does not rewrite the past. It places the future back into the hands of Jesus.

Nearly thirty years ago, I pastored a church where two men lived in the same community, worked for the same company, and worshiped in the same congregation. Somewhere along the way, a work-related offense created a division between them. I do not remember all the details, and after all these years the details are not really the point.

What I remember is that they never found their way through it.

They continued attending the same church, but they sat on opposite sides of the sanctuary. Week after week, they worshiped the same Lord, heard the same Scriptures, and received the same grace—but the division remained between them.

Both men have now died. I do not tell their story to judge their hearts. Only God knows everything that passed between them. I tell it because their story has stayed with me.

They had moved on with their lives, but it appeared that something between them had never been surrendered to the transforming grace of Jesus Christ.

That is the danger of an unforgiven wound. Life continues. We go to work. We come to church. We sing the hymns and listen to the sermon. From the outside, it may appear that we have moved on. Yet the wound may still be deciding where we sit, whom we avoid, and how far the grace we have received will be allowed to travel through us.

Is there someone I need to forgive? Is there a wound I need to surrender again? Is there a division I have learned to live with that Jesus is calling me to address?

Forgiveness may not restore every relationship. It may not remove every consequence or erase every painful memory. But it refuses to let what happened to us become more powerful in shaping our lives than what Christ has done for us.

The wound may be part of your story, but don’t let it write the ending.

Give Jesus back the pen.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

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…

Pondering Tozer…

The recent fire in our home put the reading of A. W. Tozer as part of my devotional habit on hold for a few weeks. My books were in the living room that was filled with soot and ash, and it was three weeks before the books were cleaned.

Okay, it’s been over a month since the fire and my house still isn’t clean, but that’s another story I’ll save for another time. I need to get over my frustration with the cleaning company before I express my sentiments publicly. Mama always said, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything.” So, I’m not saying anything.

I picked up Tozer again this week, and there are several quotes that I have been ruminating over the last several days. I share them here. Perhaps the quotes will prompt you to ponder, as well. Please keep in mind that Tozer died in 1963. If it was bad in 1963, how bad must it be today?

These quotes are from The Pursuit of God:

Self-Sins

“To be specific, the self-sins are these: self-righteousness, self-pity, self-confidence, self-sufficiency, self-admiration, self-love and a host of others like them.”

Tozer identifies self-love as a sin. I get that, but at the same time, I wrestle with what Jesus said to the scribe in Mark 12: 31–“The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself‘.” Where is that line? I know it has much to do with being as forgiving of others as I am of myself. I know when I screw-up, I am very quick to extend grace to myself, and make several excellent excuses for what I’ve done. I should be so quick to do that for others. I know there’s more to it than that, but I still want to know, “How do I love myself without being guilty of the sin of self-love?”

Self Promotion

“Promoting self under the guise of promoting Christ is currently so common as to excite little notice.”

Oh, the things we do in the name of Christ that have nothing to do with Jesus! Jesus gets credit for a lot of things he would really rather have nothing to do with, and he gets the blame for many things that are absolutely not on him. I suspect it is (at least in my case) because we want to avoid responsibility and accountability for ourselves. I noticed that self-responsibility and self-accountability are not in Tozer’s list of the “self” sins.

Scribe or Pharisee

“Between the scribe who has read and the prophet who has seen there is a difference as wide as the sea. We are today overrun with orthodox scribes, but the prophets, where are they? The hard voice of the scribe sounds over evangelicalism, but the Church waits for the tender voice of the saint who has penetrated the veil and has gazed with inward eye upon the Wonder that is God. And yet, thus to penetrate, to push in sensitive living experience into the holy Presence, is a privilege open to every child of God.”

I am especially convicted by Tozer’s quote above because of one old seminary professor. That professor, after hearing one of my sermons, approached me and said, “Lynn, you have the gift of prophetic utterance. Use the gift wisely.” I fear I have not used it wisely, but rather have not used it at all. Unfortunately, I have fancied myself more the scribe (who has read) than the prophet (who has seen). Oh! To be one who has seen the Lord, high and lifted up, glorified and sitting on the Throne, instead of one who only knows what he has read of the glory of the Almighty.

Dying to Self

“Let us remember: when we talk of the rending of the veil we are speaking in a figure, and the thought of it is poetical, almost pleasant; but in actuality there is nothing pleasant about it. In human experience that veil is made of living spiritual tissue; it is composed of the sentient, quivering stuff of which our whole beings consist, and to touch it is to touch us where we feel pain. To tear it away is to injure us, to hurt us and make us bleed. To say otherwise is to make the cross no cross and death no death at all. It is never fun to die. To rip through the dear and tender stuff of which life is made can never be anything but deeply painful. Yet that is what the cross did to Jesus and it is what the cross would do to every man to set him free.”

Every disciple must die–he/she must die to self, and as Tozer says, “It is never fun to die.” The greater pain comes in knowing that I must die to self everyday, and everyday that death is no less painful. Perhaps that is why I avoid it so much. Didn’t Jesus say, “If anyone desires to be my disciple, they must take up their cross daily…?” I am reminded in these moments of the words of the great G. K. Chesterton: “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.”

I think that’s quite enough pondering for one day (probably enough for a week). I admit I long to read Tozer because I know he’ll light a fire under me, but then I read Tozer and the conviction often outweighs the anticipation with which I began.

Tozer. Always compelling. Always interesting. Always convicting. Always challenging. Always worth it. May I commend him to you?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Failure Doesn’t Have to be Final…

The church where I pastor (Haughton Methodist Church) is reading the Bible through in a year. I made the commitment to the congregation that if they would read the Bible through in a year, then I would preach from one of the passages they read over the previous week. So far, except for one week, I’ve kept that commitment. The weekly readings have become my lectionary for the year.

This week, we read Matthew’s account (Matthew 26: 69-75) of Peter’s denials of Jesus. I love the Apostle Peter. One reason I do is because Peter’s journey through life (and faith) so greatly reflects my own. Peter’s is a life that experienced many transformations, and I believe there is something for all of us to learn, even in Peter’s (seeming) failure. I think Peter’s life reminds us that transformation is an on-going thing. It’s never a one-time event. That’s kind of what the whole “sanctifying” grace idea is about.

Sanctifying Grace

Let me focus on sanctifying grace here just a moment because I believe I see it at work in Peter’s life in these moments. In John Wesley’s understanding, God’s grace is real (primarily) in three distinct ways—prevenient grace, justifying grace and sanctifying grace.

Let me try to illustrate: I went to the heart doctor this week. Whoopee! The price of getting old, I suppose. The doctor informed me that I did, in fact, have a heart problem. Prevenient grace is like going to the heart doctor and finding out there is something wrong with your heart. There is a dawning awareness that something has to change…that transformation is needed.

Justifying grace is that moment when we come to embrace the reality that something is wrong with our heart, and that we’ll embrace the prescription offered by the doctor. A better analogy would be discovering you need a heart transplant (prevenient grace), and actually submitting to the surgery necessary to get a new heart (justifying grace), but hey, I don’t need a heart transplant so…

Sanctifying grace is learning how to live with your new heart condition. The diet has to change. The exercise routine has to change. There may even be a few medications involved (there is!). If we’re going to honor the gift we’ve been given, we have to stop doing the things we did before and start doing new, healthier things.

What does any of that have to do with Peter? I’m glad you asked.

Peter’s Tale

Peter’s life was filled with transformative moments. He walked on water (Matthew 14). That is a transformative moment. Yet, Peter had such small faith that he couldn’t sustain it.

Another transformative moment came when Jesus changed Peter’s name and called him “the Rock” (sorry, Dwayne Johnson), yet almost immediately after, Jesus rebukes him and calls him satan (Matthew 16: 21 – 23). Talk about whiplash!

Still another transformative moment for Peter came on Mount Herman when he witnessed Jesus transfigured, and Peter wanted to build three shrines for Moses, Elijah and Jesus (Matthew 17: 1 – 13).

Perhaps the most transformative experience of Peter’s life was his denial of Jesus. It’s interesting that the most transformative event is also considered Peter’s greatest failure.

Peter, who was ready to die for Christ, had a change of heart (a transformation?) when confronted by a young lady around a campfire.

His world had been turned upside-down when Christ was arrested…and yes, this same Peter who would deny Jesus three times was the same Peter, who at the time of Jesus’ arrest, cut off the ear of one of the Roman guards. Brash, daring, adventuresome…yet, humbled under a colossal failure.

God would, however, use Peter’s colossal failure to transform him into a disciple who would change the world. There is hope for me yet! Failure doesn’t have to define us. Failure doesn’t have to be final!

Let me share three brief lessons I learn as I survey Peter’s failure.

Temptation

First, temptation gets us all sooner or later. Peter, who walked on water, saw Jesus transfigured and even had his mother-in-law healed from her sick bed (wonder what he thought about that?) gave in to the temptation he faced.

Call it fear, call it peer pressure, call it whatever you’d like to call it–he was tempted and he succumbed. What’s worse, Jesus had warned him that it was going to happen. Peter, in his brashness, said, “Never, Lord!”

Never say never. Temptation will get even the best of us. Temptation will get us when we least expect it in the most subtle ways.

What a stark contrast between this Peter, cowering before a servant girl in a courtyard, and the Peter who would grab the sword and cut off a soldier’s ear.

It’s a good reminder that battlefields (spiritual ones) are everywhere, even in the most mundane places. There are battlefields even in the quiet, routine moments of life.

Lying

A second lesson I learn is lying gets easier with time. Peter denies Jesus not once, or twice, but three times, and with each denial he takes one step further away from the Truth.

Lie #1–“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lie #2–“I don’t know the man!”

Lie #3–“Dad-gum it, people (I didn’t want to use the language Peter probably used), I told you I don’t know that man!”

This is a moral failure in the worst sort of way. Seriously, lying to protect your own skin? How low can you go? Wait! Don’t ask. You might get the chance to find out. Friends, the truth matters. It always matters.

From Failure to Faith

One final lesson I learn (perhaps the most important one) is that faith comes after failure. Look it up in Merriam-Webster. Faith comes after failure (cute, huh?).

Peter heard the rooster crow and he was immediately reminded of Jesus’ previous warning. Matthew tells us that Peter wept bitterly. Peter could have chosen to wallow in this shame and his failure would continue to define him for subsequent generations, but we know that is not what happened.

Peter’s journey defines for us our response to our own failures. This moment of bitter weeping is significant. It marks the beginning of Peter’s repentance. Regret is a painful emotion, but it can also be a catalyst for transformation. When we are confronted with our own failures, we have two choices: we can either sink into despair or allow our brokenness to drive us back to God.

In Peter’s tears, we see a heart that is broken but not hardened. Unlike Judas, who also experienced regret but fell into hopelessness (Matthew 27: 1 – 10), Peter’s sorrow leads him toward restoration.

Restoration

Remorse, repentance, restoration. That’s God’s plan for our failures (moral or otherwise). All of it is a gift of God’s sanctifying grace. I’m reminded of the words to the old hymn of the Church “Grace Greater Than Our Sin:”

Grace, grace, God’s grace; grace that will pardon and cleanse within. Grace, grace, God’s grace; grace that is greater than all our sin.

Peter, this Peter, who failed so greatly would go on to become the great leader of the early church, and would eventually give his life for the cause of Christ. His failure did not define him. Neither should ours.

Step Into Your Calling

One final point I would make…and it gets sticky here…our failures do not disqualify us from God’s service. Many would argue that point, depending on the particular failure, but I would say, either we believe in grace, or we don’t. We either believe in forgiveness, or we don’t. We either believe in restoration, or we don’t (ask the Prodigal Son).

Yes, one can be restored to ministry, but remorse and repentance are requisite. Peter wasn’t restored immediately. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus was intentional in alerting Peter of His resurrection. Jesus told the women at the tomb, “Go tell the disciples AND PETER…(Mark 16).

And, in John’s gospel, we find Jesus coming to Peter and the other disciples after His resurrection to fully restore Peter (John 21: 15 – 19) to leadership among the disciples.

This is a hard one to swallow, for sure, and it needs its own blog to unpack, but the reality is that Christian discipleship is hard work. It’s ugly work. It is, however, necessary work. And, there is no greater work that needs to be done.

This is a hurting world full of hurting people, both inside and outside the Church. This hurting world needs the message of grace in Jesus Christ. This hurting world and these hurting people need the message that failure doesn’t have to be final…now…or ever!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Merry Christmas, Y’all…

It is really hard for me to believe that another Christmas Day is only three days away. Where does the time go? I know what the “old folks” meant when I used to hear them say, “Time sure does go by fast!” I know what they meant because I’m the “old folks” now.

Of course, I went to the heart doctor (yes, I said “heart doctor”) this week and during the examination he called me young and healthy. It made me feel good, but I thought to myself, “If I’m so young and healthy, why am I in YOUR office?”

Old Folks

I know I’m the “old folks” now because I’m more of a curmudgeon than I’ve ever been. Oh, I’ve always had a bit of curmudgeon in me, but my desire to be more Christ-like has often kept a little bit of a damper on it. The “older” I get, the more I realize that Lord still has a lot of work to do on the curmudgeon aspect of my personality. No, I’m not proud of that fact, but one of the ways the Lord can sanctify it is for me to put it out there in confession, so…

I also know I’m the “old folks” now because this body of mine doesn’t act like it used to act. My metabolism is slower, my muscle mass is shifting, my hair is more gray than brown, and I’ve got wrinkles in places I’ve never had wrinkles before. On top of all that, now I’ve got to deal with high blood pressure. I’ve never had blood pressure problems in my life! Then, the Lord gently reminds me–“Lynn, you’ve never been this old before.”

Talk about frustrating! And to add to the frustration this aging thing has put me in direct conflict with “Big Pharma!” I used to hear everyone complain about the high cost of medications. Now, I have personal experience that casts it in a whole new light. I’m learning that at this age I really can’t afford to be sick. I’m also learning that I can’t afford to get healthy, either.

I’m telling you…this whole “health” thing is nothing but a scam between big Pharma, insurance companies and the government. Those three just keep passing bucks (my bucks!) between their hands until its all gone, and then they come back for more. (Yeah. I know–curmudgeon, right?)

Grateful for Getting Older

Anyway, I really don’t mean to go all curmudgeon on you this holiday season. I am eternally grateful as I reflect on the circumstances of the past couple of weeks. I’m grateful that I’m alive. As the old saying goes, “I’m up and taking nourishment. It’s a good day.” I’m having a really good day!

I’m also grateful for doctors and nurses and other health-care workers who are compassionate and patient with curmudgeons like me. I’m grateful for their knowledge and wisdom, and their willingness to use it to heal. It is a gift they possess, and I’ll receive that gift as best I can, well, because I want to get older!

Getting older. That really is my goal. Well, kinda’ sorta’, anyway. Yes, I want to get older. I want to outlive my dad. My dad died when he was 63. I’m 61 now. Unfortunately, men in my family (on either side) don’t have long histories. A grandfather and a couple of uncles lived to age 72 (and I had 8 uncles). The rest all died before age 70. I get a little more health conscious with every day that passes.

Of course, I tell my children that I intend to live to 100, if for no other reason than to be a burden to them. We’ll see if that really comes to pass.

My Goal in Getting Older

My real goal in getting older is to grow in Christ-likeness…to grow in holiness. Honestly, I thought the older I got, the easier it would be. I’m discovering, though, the older I get and the more I desire to surrender, the more the Devil gets in my business and does all he can to slow the growth.

Isn’t it supposed to get easier the older we get? I thought the longer we walked with the Lord, the closer we became. Oh, yeah. I hear His voice in ways I’ve never heard before. Yes, I feel His presence in ways that bring strength and comfort like I’ve never experienced, but meeting that standard of holiness–well, that’s just another thing altogether. As desperately as I want to attain it, I find myself falling so far short.

It’s frustrating! It is as frustrating spiritually as this “old” body giving way physically. I don’t have any choice at this point but to rely on grace–His grace. The older I get, the more I need His grace to get me through. If I haven’t learned anything else, I’ve learned that.

The older I get, the more my life becomes a cycle of confession and repentance. Of course, the wonderful part of that equation is the experience of His forgiveness. He gently reminds me that His judgment and His mercy met on the cross of Calvary, and that mercy won. So, He shows me His mercy, and the older I get the more He shows me how much mercy I need. Thank you, Lord, for your mercy!

Wow! Some Merry Christmas message this turned out to be! Let me try again…

My prayer for each of you is that you will experience the peace, love and mercy of Jesus Christ this Christmas season…that He will abide with each of you as you grow in His grace, and that you will experience the joy of His mercy everyday in the coming new year…that as you grow older, you might also grow in holiness and in His likeness. May He be born in each of us in new and living ways this Christmas season.

Merry Christmas, y’all!

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Lord’s “Mess”-enger…

My desk was always a mess! Now, it seems to be the dressing area in my bedroom. Vanessa refuses to clean it up because it’s my mess. I’ll empty my pockets at the end of the day, and there’ll be receipts and such I’ve stuck in my pocket for one reason or another, and they’ll just pile up day after day. No, she never touches my mess! I made the mess, I can clean it up—that’s her motto.

 Here’s the thing, though. Sometimes I get tired of the mess. Sometimes, I realize the mess has got to go—that I really need to clean it up. So, I’ll take the time necessary to pick through, organize, throw away or file everything that’s a part of my mess. There’s a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment when the project is completed. It just feels good to get all the mess cleared away. There’s this sense of order emerging out of the chaos that seems to be my life.

I like that feeling, even though I must not like it too much. Vanessa thinks I don’t clean the mess up often enough.

Life is a Mess

I’m not so certain my dresser doesn’t really reflect my life, though I have heard it said that a messy desk (dresser?) reflects an organized mind. Perhaps, in some way, it reflects all our lives…maybe even life itself.

Life just gets messy sometimes, doesn’t it? We have a mess that’s far worse than any clutter we might have around on our desk or on our dresser. Maybe for you, the mess is in the closet or under the bed, but you know there’s a mess somewhere.

For others of us, maybe it’s a mess of someone else’s doing…a mess that is worse than a massive sewer backup in our homes. We have the mess of sin that hangs on us. Sometimes, we need the mess to be cleaned up. And, that’s exactly what God does for us. He cleans and purifies. Not only does God clean and purify us, he prepares the way for that purification to ensure our hearts are ready.

An Old Testament Messenger

Malachi is the last of the Old Testament Prophets. He’s writing a prophecy at a messy time in the life of the nation of Israel. This prophet was writing to the nation after their return to the Promised Land after a 70 year exile into Babylon.

Since their return, Jerusalem had been rebuilt and the temple restored, but the people had not learned their lesson from the exile. They had grown skeptical of God’s love, careless in worship, indifferent to the truth, disobedient to the covenant, faithless in their marriages and stingy in their offerings. In other words, their lives were a mess and the nation was a mess.

It was into that mess that God would use Malachi to plea to His people. It was a plea for God’s people to clean their mess up. Yet he uttered the plea as a hopeful refrain. Yes, it was a mess, but God would send someone to clean up the mess. That’s the message of Advent! That the world needs a Savior indicates the world needs saving!

For Malachi, everything God was going to do was going to happen later—much later. It would be more than 400 years before God would bring these prophecies and promises to completion. And in some respect, you and I are still waiting for the full realization of all that God promises as well.

Malachi begins with a promise from God, “See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me” (Malachi 3:1) We see this promise of one who prepares the way especially clear in the work of John the Baptist more than 400 years after Malachi wrote these words. John is Jesus’ cousin, roughly 6 months older than Jesus, whose work would be to get people ready for Jesus’ ministry. A lot of John’s work is not what we would call fun. He was called on to point out the people’s sins and to call them to repentance.

Confronting Life’s Mess

Not many people like to hear about their sin. In fact, we could safely say that no one likes to hear about their sins. We may recognize that it’s necessary, but it’s never a fun thing to be told that what you’re doing, saying, planning, or thinking is wrong. And yet we need to hear that.

I need to hear my dresser is a mess. You and I need to have the mirror of God’s Word held up to our faces to show us exactly as we are: people who are completely and hopelessly a mess. We’ve taken every opportunity we can to offend God, either consciously or unconsciously. Our hearts are filled with selfishness and envy.

Materialism is our idol. Doubt it? How much will you spend on Christmas this year? And, the people who lived in Malachi’s day weren’t different, and those to whom John the Baptist witnessed were no different. It’s called the human condition. 

Fire and Soap

Malachi uses two images to describe how God would clean up the mess. He describes Jesus as a metal refiner and launderer: “For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver” (Malachi 3:3).

So, what about the “soap and fire”? Malachi gives us an image of both God’s judgment and redemption. On the one hand, the prophet says: when God comes in judgment nobody can stand up against His power. Let’s face it, if God starts ticking-off the sinfulness of a man, who is good enough to say, “I’m better than that.”? To do so would make God a liar.

On the other hand, Malachi gives us a glimpse of redemption in the refiner’s fire and fuller’s soap. We may be sinful and undone before God, but God does something for us that we cannot do for ourselves… he cleans and purifies. This has been God’s intention in every contact with humanity—to make us whole, and to make us fit for relationship with him.

Fuller’s soap is not your average bar of Dove or Ivory; it is a harsh, earthy substance that scrubs away the whole top surface of skin.

The refiner’s fire calls for an interactive change. Refining precious metals is a wonderful picture of what God does for us.

All precious metals dug from the earth have a certain amount of impurities. When subjected to heat, gold will melt and run out of the crucible, leaving the impure stuff behind. The less impurities, the more the shine of your gold ring! It doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about grit in the gold or sin in the soul….getting it out increases the value.

Go down to the local jewelry store and buy your honey a gold ring for Christmas and you’ll discover that jewelry is 99.9% pure. That’s fine for something you wear on the outside. But, did you know that there are other uses for gold that call for the gold to be even more pure?

Do you know what they use in your computer to make all the little connections that spread information all over the world? Gold!

Do you know what metal they use to connect the most important technology in the space shuttle? Gold! 

Do you know that gold, silver, platinum and more precious metals are used in the machines a doctor uses to do your MRI and CAT-scan? Do you know the gold that is used in all that technology is 99.9999% pure?

Jesus is the “Mess”-enger

All that gold is on the inside. You see, it’s great to clean up the mess on the outside, but what really changes the world and our relationships is when we clean up the mess on the inside. That’s why we need Jesus. That why we need his cross. 

It is Jesus who is the refiner and launderer. It is he who will purify the people of the covenant. And, despite our feelings or fears about the matter, this is actually good news! Sin separates us from God. Sin clouds and distorts the good creation God made us to be. And we are helpless to clean ourselves. Enter the refiner of gold and the washer of clothes, to do the cleaning for us.

It is not an easy process, of course. There is pain involved in refining and cleansing. There is pain involved in dying and rising. But it is a process that is designed for our good, for our well-being, to prepare us for the coming of the Lord. God comes into our midst as Emmanuel, comes to destroy the evil in us and in the world, comes to draw us out of death into life.

In the working of the Holy Spirit to create faith in our hearts, Jesus has taken each and every one of us and scrubbed us and burned off the mess that was on and inside of us. And his job isn’t like my job cleaning off my dresser which far too quickly descends into chaos again; Jesus’ work is permanent. When Jesus removes sins, they are gone. When he cleans us, we are clean forever. When we are refined by him, we are pure through eternity.

Jesus had work to do, elbow grease to put into that work. To make us pure, he had to become corrupted; to clean us he had to descend into the muck and mire of sin.

The apostle Paul clearly lays out for us what God did: “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Jesus gave everything to purify us. In his death we are set free from sin; in his resurrection we are assured of our eternal life with him. We will live because he died and rose. We are pure because he purified us of sin.

Malachi notes that this cleansing will mean a change in people. Before Jesus, we were scared to even think about God. The imperfect cannot stand in the presence of perfection; the sinner cannot stand before the holy God. But now we are not imperfect, but perfect; now we are not impure, but pure. And so now we can approach God in confidence and thankful joy. 

Become the “Mess”-enger, Too

We are able to bring thanksgiving to God for what he’s done for us. The way we do that may vary depending on the day and our particular station in life. Maybe it’s helping an elderly parent in failing health; maybe it’s supporting a coworker who is stressed beyond belief at work; maybe it’s helping a friend who is going to through a difficult time in her life; maybe it’s simply commending the concerns and worries of this life in prayer to the God who can really, actually, bring about a change—the one who can purify the sinful and restore the brokenhearted.

Ultimately, we express our thanks in doing exactly what John the Baptist did: preparing the way for God’s purification. When we thankfully share our faith with others, when we share what Jesus has done, when we lead people into God’s Word to see his pure, perfect, and all-sufficient revelation for mankind, we are preparing the way for the Lord to create faith in their heart as well, that maybe, just maybe, their lives won’t continue to be such a mess because they’ve encountered the Lord’s “Mess”-enger themselves.

Happy Advent!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Oh! How the Mighty Have Fallen…

Bad news breaks hard, and unfortunately, bad news has been breaking hard for the Church for a few weeks now.

A Run of Bad News

First, return to late April. News broke of the suicide of a pastor’s wife in South Carolina (click here for a deeper dive into the story). Pastor John Paul Miller’s wife, Mica, allegedly took her own life after filing for divorce from her husband. The story reveals a tumultuous and allegedly abusive relationship between the pastor and his former wife. Newsnation has a series of reports on the entire ordeal (it can be found here). No matter the issues involved, it is a sad, sad story.

Second, on June 13th, it was announced that Dallas area megachurch pastor Tony Evans was stepping down from the church he helped found nearly 50 years ago over an “unnamed” sin. Dr. Evans had also built a flourishing media ministry through his Urban Alternative ministries. Dr. Evans was/is quite the celebrity among evangelical Christians, and the loss of his pulpit and ministry influence is a sad, sad story.

Third, news broke on June 18th, that Rev. Robert Morris, founding/senior pastor of Gateway Church in Southlake, TX, had resigned his position as a result of accusations of sexual abuse and assault reaching back over 30 years ago. Rev. Morris had, in his own right, established a growing media ministry and exercised a strong influence among evangelicals just as Dr. Evans. Again, for his congregation and for the Church, his is a sad, sad story.

Finally, on a note not related to the Church/church, but closer to me personally (and reflective of the destructive nature of sin), I saw reports that a former co-worker had been arrested for crimes of a sexual nature. The accused and I worked together at the Jackson Parish Sheriff’s Office in another lifetime. I haven’t seen or talked to him in years, but the breaking news brought an overwhelming sadness to my heart because it, too, is a sad, sad story.

Disclaimer: All persons are presumed innocent until proven guilty! Although, both Evans and Morris resigned as a result of the allegations, so there is that. Rev. Miller (who I think has been relieved of his duties as pastor) hasn’t yet been charged with any crime, and my friend is yet to be tried for his alleged crime.

King David’s Lament

In each of these instances, I am reminded of David’s song in 2 Samuel 1:

19 “A gazelle lies slain on your heights, Israel.
    How the mighty have fallen! (2 Samuel 1: 19 NIV)

David, ever the song writer, expressed his deep emotion regarding the death of his adversary (King Saul) and his friend (Jonathon). Though many have since uttered the phrase in celebration over the fall of the famous or influential, David sang it as a deep lament.

I won’t rehash David’s relationship with King Saul or Saul’s son, Jonathon, here. You can read 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel:1 for the full story. Let’s just say David’s relationship with King Saul was challenging. King Saul sought numerous times to have David killed and David had numerous occasions to kill Saul and assume the throne he knew to be rightly his. Yet, David chose to wait for God’s timing and he never failed to view Saul as the Lord’s anointed.

Upon hearing the news of both Saul and Jonathon’s demise, David’s heart broke because to him, it was not a time to celebrate, but it was, in fact, a sad, sad story.

Unfortunately, there are many outside the church who are celebrating the fall of the mighty. It gives them an opportunity to point to Christians and say, “Look, just a bunch of hypocrites!” Unfortunately again, they would be correct. We are, for the most part, a bunch of hypocrites. That’s why we need grace. That’s why we need Jesus. That’s central to the message of our faith. Too many outside the faith don’t understand that fact, and that, too, is a sad, sad story.

There are also some within the church who celebrate fall of the mighty. The celebration comes from those mostly outside the evangelical community who have an opportunity to say, “See, I told you so! Just a bunch of hypocrites.” And, they would be correct. It affords them a chance to say, “At least I’m not like that publican, over there” (Luke 18:9-14). Nothing like attacking our own. Why do we do that?

Lessons to Learn

I’m going to choose to learn some lessons from David in these particular situations.

Reserve Judgment

First, I’m going to reserve judgment. I’m not going to judge either the person or circumstance. David consistently withheld his own personal judgment in regard to his relationship with King Saul. He knew that God would judge Saul and his circumstances in His own time. David trusted God enough to wait. If David can do that, so can I.

I wait to offer any judgment because I remember what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount:

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7: 1-5 NIV)

There’s just something about that whole log and speck thing that slows me down when it comes to rendering judgment in any way. I’ve come to believe that we all have logs in our eyes…everyone of us have LOGS in our eyes. The log in your eye only looks like a speck to me because of the log in my eye, and the speck you see in my eye only looks like a speck because you can’t see around the log in your own eye.

The truth is I don’t want to be too hard on others because it means others will be too hard on me. We Christians believe in this little thing called forgiveness, and we work toward reconciliation and restoration, or at least we’re supposed to. Forgiveness is hard (especially in some of the circumstances above), but it is nonetheless demanded by those of us who follow Jesus.

Yes, accountability is necessary, and accountability will work itself out through the legal process (as it should). There are always consequences to sin. I suspect that each person whose name is in the news recently is experiencing that accountability first-hand. I’m willing to let that process play out without rendering judgment against the persons. I trust God enough to do that.

Respect the Person

Second, I’m going to respect the person. Honestly, I don’t know Pastor Miller. Never heard of him before the news of his wife’s suicide made national headlines. I feel reasonably certain there are folks who are standing with him during this tragic time, and that he has had a positive impact on lives under his care as a pastor (maybe not…I really don’t know). As far as I know, he hasn’t been implicated in any way in his wife’s death, but the “gossip” is rampant that it was his abuse that drove her to it.

I’ll choose to believe that no matter what, he has had a positive impact on someone, and I’ll celebrate that in the midst of my own sadness over the circumstance.

The same is true with Evans and Morris. Both have had a profound impact of the evangelical church over the past 20 years. They have positively impacted many lives through the ministry the Lord entrusted to them. I will choose to look at that impact and celebrate the goodness of God in those circumstances, even as I lament the sadness of their current circumstances.

And, I don’t know what my former co-worker’s life has been like over these past 35 years. But, I remember him as dedicated public servant who was funny and hard-working, and didn’t have an evil bone in his body. I’m going to celebrate those memories even as I lament the sad, sad nature of the tragic circumstances surrounding his arrest.

Our Work to be Done

The sad news of the past few weeks also serves to remind me that the Church/church has work to do.

Accountability

First, we in the church must practice accountability better, and we must submit ourselves to be accountable to one another. I’ll confess this has been a challenge for me in recent years (since I left vocational ministry). Previously, there were built in relationships that helped shape accountability in my life. As vocational ministry has grown smaller in my rearview, those relationships have likewise faded.

We must be intentional in accountability. That’s one reason I’m a Wesleyan. Wesley’s model of accountability (bands, classes, societies) is an effective model of discipleship when executed properly (and when submitted to properly). The practice of accountability is part and parcel to our pursuit of holiness, and we Wesleyans, if we’re not pursuing holiness, should be doing nothing else.

Prayer

Second, we must pray for those in circumstances like these. I think it was Oswald Chambers who said praying for others is the surest way to discover one’s own salvation. Not only to discover it, but also to live out the holy life to which one is called.

We must pray for every person involved in the situations…for the accused, for the victim/accuser, for their families, for the church. Praying for them helps us not lose sight of the hurt that affects everyone, and it reminds us that both victim and accused are people of sacred worth who are made in God’s image.

Naming Sin

Finally, we must name sin for what it is. Excuse me for saying it this way, but we can’t “poo-poo” sin. We can’t make light of it. We can’t sweep it under the rug. We can’t call it by any other name. Sin is destructive. It destroys lives and there are four very recent examples that leave very little doubt.

Sexual sin appears to be the Devil’s chosen means of destroying Jesus’s Church (and people in general). Folks, we’ve got to put guardrails in place to protect ourselves and the Church from sexual sin (well, all sin, but particularly sexual sin). The Devil has control of the culture and he is using that control to bring down the Church. We have to open our eyes to that reality.

For the Church to call out sin is not to render judgment. The Bible is relatively clear on the matter of sin and for the Church to call it out as such is to be faithful to Scripture. Judgment is the Lord’s, but the Lord has given His Church His Word. It is His Word that renders the judgment, not us as individuals.

I know this post may elicit some negative feedback. That’ll be okay. I won’t judge those who do. I’ll take it all in stride and include it as part of my continuing lament for the current climate of culture and news.

I’ll also remember that someone could someday be saying about me, “Oh! How the mighty have fallen.” Except I’m afraid they’ll be celebrating when they say it.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Learning to Walk Again…

Well, the challenging Lenten season continues. It’s strange really because I didn’t enter the Lenten season very seriously. For the first time in over 20 years I didn’t attend an Ash Wednesday service. If I’m totally honest I’d tell you that if it weren’t for Facebook I might have forgotten it was Ash Wednesday.

Logging on to Facebook I couldn’t help but know it was Ash Wednesday. I saw so many people posting pictures of themselves with ashes on their foreheads. Nothing like social media to feed our narcissistic tendencies…even when it comes to our sin, right? No indictment intended, but I just find it ironic that we feel compelled to show the world our piety by posting selfies of ourselves being pious. But, I digress…

Anyway, I didn’t take Lent seriously, but the Holy Spirit has challenged me all season long. He has challenged me concerning my love for Jesus (click here), and thereby, my love for others. I’ll confess that I can’t grasp the love of God that loves a Venezuelan migrant murderer as much as a Georgia nursing student (see here). I’ll confess that I don’t know that I want to grasp it, and that scares the hell out of me!

What I do know is that I would fight tooth and nail if someone (anyone) hurt one of my daughters. One of us would die. I don’t know that I could forgive that. With time and the grace of God, maybe. Yet, forgiveness is what the Lord asks of us, and that’s an awfully big ask. The Holy Spirit and I have been talking about it. We’ve not settled the issue yet, but this is still Lent. Easter is coming…it can’t come soon enough.

Not only has He challenged me on my love for Him, but He’s also challenged the nature of my surrender. I know that I have, too often, chosen my own way in service to Him rather than being attentive to where He was actually calling me. I may even be living that circumstance today. Part of my prayer each day is “show me Your will so that I might walk in Your way.” I think what I really mean is “show me Your will and I’ll choose whether to walk in Your way.”

The question He challenges me with is, “Are you surrendered?” I like to believe I am, but Him even asking the question causes me to wonder. True enough, He has been oh, so very gracious to me regardless. I can’t even imagine why I’ve been so blessed. How or why does He bless when I can’t answer a simple question, or know that I am surrendered to His will? ‘Tis mystery, indeed!

The Holy Spirit has also challenged me concerning the nature of joy. That’s right…joy. How so? Well, the Apostle Paul tells the Roman church, in essence, that joy comes through tribulation (see Romans 8: 31-39). I like to think I’m joyful, but the Holy Spirit has me wondering. I know that I “enjoy” life, but enjoying something doesn’t necessarily mean I am living joyfully. I know I’m grateful…grateful for all His blessings. I know I’m humbled…humbled by His grace.

Do I not know the depths of true joy because I’ve not endured the hardships of tribulation? Dare I pray for tribulation so that I might find out? Yeah, I’m probably not going to do that, and the fact that I’m unwilling to pray such a prayer causes me no little amount of heartburn. Darn this Lenten season!

I suppose the challenge of this Lent has me questioning my commitment to Jesus Christ and His Kingdom. It comes down to a question Jesus asked his disciples in John 6:

66 From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.

67 “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve.

John 6:66-67 (NIV)

“You do not want to leave, too, do you?” I feel like in one sense that I have, in fact, gone away…I’ve turned back…I’ve fallen down. Abandoning full-time ministry feels almost like an abandonment of Jesus. It feels like I “turned back.” For me, I think it was a matter of ministry was “working for Jesus,” without “walking with Jesus.” There is a difference, you know?

I spent so many years working for Jesus that I quit walking with Him. Perhaps that is the thing that burned me out. I guess He’s just using this Lenten season to teach me to walk with Him again, since I’m not “working” for Him during this time. I am learning to walk again.

Let me say that if a person has a choice of working for Jesus or walking with Jesus, chose walking with Jesus every time. Intimacy with Jesus can easily get lost when we are working for Him. Walking with Him promotes the intimacy we need to actually do the work for Him…and I mean the work that He wants and needs us to do, not the work we want and think He wants us to do. The differences are oh, so subtle, but they are oh, so real.

And to think, I was going to let this Lenten season pass unnoticed. Perhaps all these challenges are my punishment for not giving something up for Lent.

Until next time, keep looking up…