Must Be Something in the Water…

Well, dang! It’s happened again…and in the Dallas, Texas area, too. What has happened again? Another prominent pastor has fallen from grace.

Pastor Steve Lawson, pastor (well, former pastor now) of Trinity Bible Church in Dallas, Texas was removed from his ministry by the elders of the church last week because of an “inappropriate relationship” with a woman who was not his wife. (Read more about the story here).

I’m not here to dump on Pastor Lawson. He’s got enough people doing that. I do want to say, though, there must be something in the water in the Dallas area that is affecting pastors. Only this past June, two very high profile pastors resigned or were removed from ministry in the Dallas area for the same issue facing Pastor Lawson. (I wrote about those two persons here).

I’ll say that Pastor Lawson (who is 73 years old!) is/was a passionate preacher. I’ve listened to a number of his sermons through the years, and have read a couple of his books (he’s written over 30). When he preached, he always preached with certainty and authority (that’s my kind of preaching). He may not have always been right, but he was never in doubt. He was, by all accounts, a holy man used mightily by God for His glory.

A Christian Reaction to Non-Christian Behavior

As one might expect, the ordeal has the Christian community scratching its collective head wondering what is going on with all these “holy” people. Are they living sham lives, false lives, hypocritical lives?

The non-Christian community is not asking the questions, they’re simply saying that all Christianity is a sham and that all Christians are hypocrites (they might be correct on the hypocrite part). Lawson just happens to be the latest example to their point.

As I have reflected over the past week on Lawson’s situation, I’ve found myself asking the same questions. The easier path would be to dismiss these fallen pastors as charlatans and move on, but in so doing we might overlook some truth and miss what God is doing in the midst of it all. So, where is the truth?

First, we need to clarify that we are ALL sinners saved by the amazing grace of God in Jesus Christ. Both preacher and parishioner are subject to sin because as the Apostle Peter reminds us “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8 NIV). The devil can devour the preacher as easily as the parishioner.

Second, these pastors were removed or stepped away from vocational ministry. Appropriately so, I might add. The sins to which they’ve either admitted or accused are of the disqualifying sort–at least until repentance is made and restoration practiced (that’s a whole other discussion).

Clergy should be held to a higher standard, but even acknowledging that fact, I am reminded of the words of Oswald Chambers: “The call of God has nothing to do with salvation and sanctification; it isn’t because you are saved and sanctified that you’ve been called to preach.” We are called to preach because God chose us to do so, and in so doing, placed a “divine compulsion” (the Apostle Paul’s words) within us.

Third, God uses both the holy and the unholy to minister to His people. This is where it gets sticky, but this is the point I want to make as I reflect on these events.

The Holy and The Unholy

I am reminded of Paul’s words to Timothy:

20 In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for special purposes and some for common use. 21 Those who cleanse themselves from the latter will be instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work. (2 Timothy 2: 20 – 21 NIV)

Paul writes to Timothy to encourage him to rightly handle the Word of God. He even goes so far as to name two who have departed from the truth and brought confusion to the body of Christ. Yet, in his encouragement he admits that God’s house contains both holy and unholy vessels. Here’s the truth: God uses both!

Are the holy vessels more useful? Yes, obviously, but just because the holy vessels are MORE useful, doesn’t mean the Master does not utilize the unholy ones.

Please don’t hear me making excuses for these pastors and their failures. Their failures are their own and they must own them and deal with the consequences. What I am saying is don’t discount the good God has done through the ministry He entrusted to them–in spite of their failures. Stated another way: Don’t let the good God has done be negated by their unholy actions.

Nothing justifies their actions, but their actions don’t mean God wasn’t using them. So, why would God use unholy vessels? I can think of three reasons.

God and Unholy Vessels

The first reason is that God loves His people. He’s not using the person for the sake of the person. If He were, the person might begin to think that God owes him/her something because they’re “holy.” Or, the person might begin to think that God is okay with what he/she is doing…if it were all about the person. No, God is using the unholy for the sake of His people, and if another person’s life is touched in the course of that ministry, God has demonstrated His love for His people using an unholy vessel.

The second reason might be that God is storing up judgement/discipline for that “holy/unholy” person. Maybe God is giving that person the rope he/she is asking for, and surely, if you give a person enough rope he/she will hang themselves. Perhaps it is all about judgment/discipline towards His house. Is that not God using the unholy for His purpose?

The third reason is so that He can demonstrate the riches of His grace. God’s is an amazing and extravagant grace, and He gives it in ways we don’t always understand, nor do we always like (ask the older brother in the Story of the Prodigal Son).

If God used only holy people, it wouldn’t be long before all the holy people would be pointing to themselves thinking everything was happening because they are so holy. No, everything is happening because God is so gracious. It is always and forever about what God is doing, never ever about what we are doing.

So, I suppose we should let this be a warning to all of us (especially those of us in ministry). So, I heed the warning by seeking to live a holy life, by confronting the sin that is within me, and by crucifying the passions and lusts of the flesh on a daily basis…well, because holiness is such a daily endeavor. And I do it not for ministry success, but because I’m a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Yes, God uses holy vessels in a greater way than unholy ones, but God can, and sometimes does, use people who are undeserving. And, He does it whether I like it or not.

Until next time, keep looking up…

God with Us…

My wife, Vanessa, and I like to get away to L. A. as often as we can. No, I’m not talking about Los Angeles. I’m talking about lower Alabama. Driving across southern Mississippi we go through a lot of little towns on Highway 49. One in particular is Mt. Olive, Mississippi. Driving into town there is a prominent sign that says “Birthplace of Steve McNair.” Steve McNair was a professional football player who played quarterback, and spent most of his career with the Houston Oilers/Tennessee Titans.

A little further down Highway 49, you enter Collins, Mississippi, and again, at the entrance of town there’s a sign that says “Birthplace of Gerald McRaney.” Gerald McRaney is an actor who played in series such as Simon & Simon, House of Cards and more recently, This Is Us. I don’t know how many of you have driven through Mt. Olive or Collins, Mississippi, but there isn’t much happening in either of those places. They are simply little towns nestled between the bigger cities of Jackson and Hattiesburg. Their claim to fame is who was born there.

Now, picture in your mind, riding your camel across the Judean desert southward out of Jerusalem in the first century. About five miles out of Jerusalem, you start to enter a sleepy little town called Bethlehem, and as your camel glides into town you see a sign that says, “Birthplace of King David.”  

Bethlehem’s claim to fame was that it was the birthplace of the nation’s most famous and popular king. One scholar says, “’At the beginning of the first century AD, Bethlehem was a village with not more than a thousand inhabitants: a small set of houses scattered along the side of a ridge and protected by a wall that was in a bad state of repair.”

We sing the Christmas carol O Little Town of Bethlehem with the emphasis on “little.” It was not where anyone was expecting anything special to happen. It certainly wasn’t where anyone was expecting God to show up. Sure, there had been this prophecy from Micah that said,

 “But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
    are only a small village among all the people of Judah.
Yet a ruler of Israel,
    whose origins are in the distant past,
    will come from you on my behalf.”

Micah 5:2 (NLT)

Micah’s prophecy was long since buried in the recesses of the nation’s mind. Even the nation’s king, Herod, had to call on the experts to be reminded of Micah’s prophecy when the wise men showed up looking for this “new” king that was born. 

Nobody really expected God to show up, or for God to do anything special in Bethlehem. If God was going to show up, God was going to show up in Jerusalem. That was the happening place for the nation of Israel. Of course, God might show up in Rome, or even Athens, Greece. Those places were the center of first century culture, politics and power. If something is going to happen, it would surely happen in one of those places, not sleepy little Bethlehem.

That’s what we expect, too, and we have the benefit of bible stories and an annual celebration to remind us that God shows up in unexpected places. What do I mean? God is a big God, and if God is going to make a difference, it’s because He’s going to do it in a big way. Right? Sure, like in New York City or Washington, D. C., or maybe Paris or London. Those are the seats of power. We certainly don’t expect God to show up in places like Minden. But, He does, and isn’t that Good News? Sure it is…sort of…

If God shows up in Minden (or wherever you live), that brings Him awfully close to home, and we’re just not sure we want God that close. We like having a little space between God and us. You know how we like our space. Don’t get too close. Don’t believe it? Notice what you do next time you’re waiting on the elevator and the doors open and it’s got more than four people on it. Most of us will wait on the next one. Let me tell you, Bethlehem is evidence that God doesn’t really respect our space, and we don’t quite know what to do with a God like that. 

What do we do with a God like that? What do we do with a God who shows up in the most unexpected places? I tell you what we do—we build places where we will COME and meet God. We’ll come, sit down, listen for an hour or so, get our God fix, talk a little bit about how it’s been going for the last week, be reminded of the things we need to work on, resolve to do better and ask God to help us out. Most of the time we’ll leave saying, “Hey, this has been a good session. We’ll do this again.” We leave and we expect that God stays, but…that’s not the evidence of Bethlehem. That’s not Emmanuel—God with us. That’s not the point of Christmas at all!

The point of Christmas is that God is with us in all the unexpected ways and all the unexpected places of our lives. That’s what we sing in the words to the third verse of the song Phillips Brooks wrote in O Little Town of Bethlehem: 

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given;

so God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven.

God imparts to human hearts. God is born in us. Christmas is God being born in us—you and me! And, that is an even more unexpected place than Bethlehem. Christmas means that God goes with us to work. When we’re standing on Monday morning at that blasted copy machine that never works the way it was designed to work.

God is with us at home with our families, around the dinner table, and God is with us when we’re living at the homeless shelter. God is with us when we’re going through the divorce and when we’re battling the addiction. God is with us when we’re shopping at Wal-Mart and when we’re driving our cars. God goes with us on vacation.

God is right there with us when we’re confronted with choices that challenge our values, and God is right there when our co-workers, or friends, or children make lifestyle choices that challenge our sensibilities, and who don’t understand who Christ is because we’re the only definition of him they see. 

Yes, God is with us in the great, high and holy moments of our lives, but God is also with us when we’re struggling with the difficulties of life. Christmas is God giving Himself to us, to be with us, to invade our time and space for one purpose and one purpose only—to have a relationship with us, to save us from our sin, and to give us life through His Son, Jesus Christ. That’s the evidence of Bethlehem. That’s the point of Christmas!

That only leaves one question: Will we allow Him to be born in us today? The last verse of O Little Town of Bethlehem becomes our prayer this Christmas and every Christmas. Listen to Brooks’ prayer again:

O holy child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;

cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today.

We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;

O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!     

O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!

Merry Christmas, y’all!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Random Ramblings and Rants…

So, this has been a week where I’ve been challenged by so many thoughts in my mind that I think I need this venue to try to gain some clarity from them. Processing all these thought via this means may bring me some clarity, but it also might serve to confuse you in the process, so…be prepared!

Ramblings

First, I’ve been challenged by Eugene Peterson this week. Last week, I went to the bookstore (I haven’t been in ages!) and in my browsing I came across a recently released compilation of Peterson’s sermons entitled “Lights a Lovely Mile.” I incorporate reading other peoples sermons into my devotional routine on occasion, and having a fondness for Peterson, I thought the book would be good to further that endeavor.

I have been challenged by two particular thoughts this week. The first is this:

“Jesus became an event. He was a stopping place for sacred history. The birth of Jesus was like arriving at the top of a mountain peak after a long, difficult climb: You can look back and see the whole trip in perspective, see everything in true relationship. And you don’t have to climb anymore.”

Lights a Lovely Mile, Eugene Peterson

I have read that paragraph over and over this week. Peterson’s capacity to use the English language to craft a beautiful thought is unrivaled, but honestly, as I’ve read and re-read the passage this week, I’m still trying to grasp the essence of what Peterson is communicating.

Yes, Jesus is a stopping place for sacred history and the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies. Only from the perspective of Jesus can one truly understand the Old Testament. But, that last phrase, “And you don’t have to climb anymore” confuses me. Why do I feel like I’m still climbing?

Perhaps I’m not climbing, but rather I’m running. I’m reminded of Paul’s counsel to the Corinthian church:

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.

1 Corinthians 9:24 (NIV)

Whether I’m climbing or running, I feel like there is so much further I have to go on the journey to be like Jesus, so I haven’t squared that circle with Peterson’s thought just yet. But, I’m working on it.

The second of Peterson’s thoughts I’ve pondered endlessly this week is this:

“The bottom step in a staircase is neither better or worse than the top step: It is good in its own right and a way of getting upstairs.”

Lights a Lovely Mile, Eugene Peterson

I like this imagery by Peterson. Most days I feel like I’m still closer to the bottom step than the top, but at least I’m on the staircase, and I’m still climbing. There are days I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress. I look back and the bottom seems so close. I look up and the top looks so far away. It’s good to be reminded that the bottom step is no better or worse than the top. It’s just a step. The question I’ve wrestled with all week is: Am I still on the staircase?

At least Peterson has me thinking…

Advent Rambling

The dawn of another Advent season has me thinking, as well. I suppose Peterson’s analogy of the staircase is appropriate for me this Advent season. Advent is a time to look back to the coming of Christ, but also to look forward to His coming again. It is a season of anticipation and preparation. An event over the past week has caused me to contemplate an integral part of preparing for Advent.

There is on my 40 mile route to work a place where the local constabulary likes to hang out to monitor traffic. Many times on my way to or from work, I’ll see an officer parked at this same location. I know he/she is likely to be there, and as I approach this location I always glance down to insure that my foot hasn’t gotten heavy on the accelerator of my truck. I think that’s called accountability.

So, last week I’m driving along and I pass this location, and sure enough, there sits the police officer. I glance down and yup, I’m only going 74 miles per hour. Should be fine, right? That’s what I thought until after I passed the officer. After my passing, the officer pulls out onto the interstate. So, I slow down to 70. Who wants to see blue lights in their rearview? Not me!

So, why not think of Advent like that police car? When there is the possibility of blue lights in the rearview, the speed you drive suddenly takes on a new importance. That blinker that you frequently fail to use when making a lane change or a turn suddenly matters. Oh yeah! That yellow light on the traffic signal no longer means “Hurry up and get through the light.” It now means, “Slow down, fool, there’s a police officer behind you!” What a difference blue lights in the rearview make.

Advent can serve as a reminder of the fact that just as accountability is a part of being a licensed driver, so too, it is a part of being a disciple of Jesus Christ. What we do with our lives does matter. How we think, act, speak, these are a part of the fabric of our response to God’s grace, and we will someday face an accounting of our living.

Perhaps that’s why Jesus told his disciples to “Be ready!”

42 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. 43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming,he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.

Matthew 24: 42-44 (NIV)

A Couple of Rants

I’ve rambled, so now let me rant. My first rant has to do with the way we Christians treat one another. This article explains it better than I can, but suffice it to say when I read how the Louisiana Annual Conference and its leadership threatened its retired clergy with retributive action should they preach or worship in any congregation that had disaffiliated from the UMC, I was livid. How dare they! Is it even legal? So much for having an “amicable” separation.

I was livid, for sure, but it wasn’t long until the Holy Spirit gently reminded me that I didn’t have a dog in that hunt anymore. I wasn’t “retired.” I left! Still, I have many friends and former colleagues who were now faced with a decision that was imposed upon them in a totally unjust manner. I could have stayed and fought the fight with them. Would have probably been the appropriate thing to do.

Honestly, I just sensed (from one who had been on the “inside”) how ugly it was going to get, and selfishly, just didn’t want to subject myself to the treatment some of my former colleagues have since experienced. I should probably repent for leaving, but I still believe it was the right decision.

One final rant–and, it’s about politics. Did you see the big debate on Thursday? You know? The one between Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida and Gov. Gavin Newsom of California. I’m not going to critique the debate, but I am going to rant about the debate on abortion. Actually, I’m going to say they were debating the entirely wrong point–at least from a Christian perspective. The debate was over when an abortion should be allowed–six weeks or fifteen weeks (or as some Democrats suggest, up until the moment of birth).

The question is not when should it be allowed. The debate should begin with this question: What is in the womb?

My answer? A person. At the moment of conception or the moment of birth what is in the womb is a person. How do we treat a person in our culture? We do not kill them. Period. Either at the beginning of life, at the end of life, or at any point in between. Any debate on the issue of abortion must begin with the answer to the question “What is in the womb?” Without agreement on the answer to that foundational question, no answer will be sufficient.

I’m ranting because both the Democrats and the Republicans have the answer wrong. Six weeks, fifteen weeks or 39 weeks, there is a life in the womb, and the only Pro-Life answer is to not support abortion under any circumstance. Yes, it’s an extreme position, but I hold it, and it’s out there now, so do with it what you will. Perhaps that’s another reason I’m no longer a Democrat or Republican.

We can talk about alternatives to abortion another time. That’s enough rambling and ranting for one day. Besides, I have to preach today. I have a lot of praying to do between now and 10:30 a.m., to get my heart and my mind right after the week I’ve had. All this rambling and ranting has distracted me.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Living the Dream…

If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. 10 For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is ith your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. 11 As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.” 12 For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, 13 for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

14 How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?15 And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

16 But not all the Israelites accepted the good news. For Isaiah says, “Lord, who has believed our message?” 17 Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ. 

Romans 10: 9 – 17 (NIV)

This passage from Romans was part of my devotional reading on Thanksgiving day this past week. As I read this passage, I did so with mixed (?) feelings simply because this passage was so central in helping me discern God’s call to ministry over 32 years ago. Why were the feelings so mixed? My feelings were mixed because there are many days that I wonder if I am continuing to live out His call. To use the Apostle Paul’s imagery, I should state it this way: I’m not feeling like my feet are very beautiful these days.

Perhaps the feelings were also being fueled by a recent book I read entitled Goodbye Jesus: An Evangelical Preacher’s Journey Beyond Faith by Tim Sledge. Let me save you the pain of reading the book by offering a synopsis. Young man is called and begins preaching at age 16. Young man goes to college and seminary and graduates with multiple degrees. Young man marries. Young man serves numerous congregations until arriving as pastor of what becomes a “mega-church.” Young man starts vital ministries that impact congregations throughout the nation while leading the mega-church congregation. Pastor gets booted from mega-church congregation for no apparent reason. Pastor eventually gets divorced. Pastor gets re-married and divorced again. Pastor leaves ministry. Pastor loses faith in Jesus Christ and His Church.

While that is definitely the abridged version of the story, reading it did prompt me to reconsider what I believe about Jesus Christ and His Church, and why I believe it. As of today, I did not come down on the same side as the former Rev. Dr. Sledge.

Today, I am more committed to Christ and HIs Church than perhaps that day in October 1990 when I walked down the aisle at (what is now) Chatham Community Church and announced that I felt called to ministry.

May I say that I’ve been living the dream ever since!

Honestly, as a young man I never dreamed of being in ministry. It’s just nothing I ever considered. If you asked me as a teenager what my dream was, I would have told you to go into communications (I wanted to be Bob Barker, remember?).

Later, as a young man I would have told you I saw myself owning and running a business. Sure, I was working in law enforcement at the time, but I knew that would never be a career for me. I would be an entrepreneur, or hey, I might even go into politics (yup, tried that, too!), or why not do both? That was the dream in my early adult life. Let’s just say that God has a great sense of humor!

God’s sense of humor had me communicating on a weekly basis, engaging my entrepreneurial bent in growing congregations and managing the politics of leading a church. Yeah, funny right? God called me to ministry and gave me opportunity to do all the things I dreamed about as a kid and as a young man. It is called “living the dream,” just not in the way I thought.

There were days I thought the dream might become a nightmare. It’s on those days that I can understand how the former Rev. Dr. Sledge might reach the conclusion he did. Those sentiments came to a head for me in February 2019 as I watched events unfold at the special session of General Conference of the United Methodist Church. I’ve never seen the Church so ugly…or so ugly toward one another. Yes, I know the Church has a long history of ugly episodes, but I didn’t live through them. Experiencing the ugliness in real time takes a toll…or, at least it did on me.

I won’t say I lost my faith as a result of General Conference 2019, but I did lose a lot of faith in the institution and its leadership. If I didn’t lose my faith, I at least surely questioned it. I questioned His call to ministry. I questioned my commitment to Christ and His Church…and particularly the United Methodist Church. Could the Church be broken beyond repair? Could I make a difference anymore? Did I want to make a difference anymore? Was it worth the fight?

In 2019, my answer to the last three questions was “no.” I wouldn’t call it a crisis of faith, but I would call it a challenge to my faith, and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to withstand the challenge. The dream had become a nightmare and the nightmare led me to make the decision to leave ministry and the United Methodist Church. By far, the hardest decision I’ve ever made, but with it came a sense of relief…like a burden was lifted…like the way a person is supposed to feel when he/she comes to faith in Jesus Christ. It seemed to be working in reverse, though.

I can certainly understand how the former Rev. Dr. Sledge came to his conclusion. He sought healing and restoration through the church only to be rebuffed at every turn. Yes, there were moral lapses and ethical failures, but (for heaven’s sake!) the church is supposed to be a place of healing and restoration, isn’t it? We’re not supposed to shoot our own! He wasn’t booted from his pastoral position as a result of those moral lapses or ethical failures. They came after the fact. His living of the dream certainly turned into a nightmare. As the conclusion of the book reveals, the nightmare impacted his view of faith and the church. I sympathize with him, but I am eternally grateful I didn’t reach the same conclusion.

No, my time away from ministry brought me a new perspective. It gave me time to breathe, to think, to pray, to reflect and to reassess the call to ministry. When I made the decision in May 2019 to walk away, I thought surely I was done with ministry. Yes, I knew I would probably fill a pulpit for a vacationing pastor from time to time, but otherwise, enough was enough. It was time for a new dream, new plans and a new life.

Want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.

Initially, I didn’t receive many calls to fill in for clergy. I suppose I was damaged goods, or folks didn’t think I would be interested in pulpit supply (after all, I DID walk away). It’s probably a good thing. It gave me more time to miss the work of ministry, more time to reflect, more time to pray. Then, after seven months, the world changed–Covid-19!

The pandemic changed the way the church functioned. It was an absolute necessity. I watched with curiosity as pastors and lay leaders “pivoted” the way they did church. I felt a stirring in my bones that the challenges of adapting to the new reality would have been right up my alley. Perhaps the Lord knew the stress would kill me, so he delivered me from it, but that would certainly be a very narcissistic perspective (you mean it’s not all about me?). Covid actually made me miss the work of ministry. Covid caused me to reassess my call to ministry.

This blog is already too long, so I won’t go into all the ways the pandemic got my entrepreneurial juices flowing. Suffice it to say the pandemic (and watching pastors and churches adapt to it) reignited a vision within me for doing and being the church. It also wasn’t long before my phone started to ring to fill pulpits. I do find the timing interesting…just as my juices started flowing my phone started ringing. Coincidence? Probably not.

Let me make a long story short–today, I’m living the dream in a whole new way. Vanessa and I purchased a business in 2021, so I get to scratch my entrepreneurial itch every day, and now serving in my third congregation as an interim pastor, I have the opportunity to serve the Kingdom for His glory using the gifts and graces He supplies.

In this season of ministry, I’m content in helping congregations in transition. There are a lot of them that need the help (don’t even get me started on why!), so there is plenty of work to be done. I’ve also developed an even deeper appreciation for the work of bivocational clergy during this season of ministry.

The “dream” for now is knowing that the call is real because Christ is real and that I get to live it out every day. I am blessed in knowing that my disillusionment with the institution of the Church didn’t cause me to lose my faith in Jesus Christ, but that it opened doors to new ways of doing ministry…to new ways of living the dream…which I get to do every day. Praise God!

Okay, so my feet may not be that beautiful, but I have feet, and I’ll use them to share the Gospel. The Lord will transform that which was broken and make it beautiful. It’s what He does. Of that, I’m certain.

Oh, and one more thing of which I’m certain? If the world will know Christ, the world will know Christ because someone preached the Word. That’s where the Apostle Paul left it. Let me leave it right there, too!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Some Hero I Turned Out to Be…

David and Goliath. We all know the story, right? By my account, I’ve preached it six times in my years of vocational ministry. That’s a lot, too, but, hey, it’s a great story. I really shouldn’t even call it a story. Calling it a story reduces it to the level of legend or myth. Perhaps I should use the word “encounter,” or “episode.” Gives more credence to the reality of the occurrence.

Either way, it certainly is more than a “story,” especially when one considers that this story has been retold times too numerous to count in books and movies and television shows. Yes, we’ve seen the story retold as football teams, big business vs. small business, bully vs. the new kid, etc. Everyone has a giant to face, and whenever, or wherever someone has faced overwhelming odds or obstacles, the metaphor of “David vs. Goliath” shows up. Even non-Christians are aware of the reference. Now, that makes it a powerful “story.”

And, let’s not even talk about how much we love an underdog story. There is something hopeful to be found for all of us when we see the underdog prevail. It’s makes us want to believe we can overcome, too. It gives us encouragement and determination. It gives us grit and perseverance. Yes, indeed, we love to hear this story retold, and we always like to believe we can identify as David, that whenever we face a giant in our life, that we’ll have the faith of David to fight through the circumstances and overcome. Hey? It happened once, it can happen again, right? You just gotta’ believe!

Looking for a Hero

I’ve preached the encounter that way, too! Yes, David is a hero. He becomes the hero for the nation of Israel after his defeat of Goliath. I’ll not recount the entire story for you here (to read it click here), but I will set the stage for you. A rather talented young shepherd boy by the name of David (the youngest son of a farmer named Jesse), has been clandestinely anointed king of Israel by a prophet named Samuel because God has rejected Israel’s first king (a man named Saul).

David soon finds his way into King Saul’s court because of David’s musical ability–David’s ability to play music soothes the mental instability of the King, so he splits time between the palace and the pasture of his father, Jesse. On one of his trips to his Father’s pastures, dad asks him to go check on his three older brothers who are serving in King Saul’s army, which has gone out to battle against the Philistines.

David’s journey to check on his brothers brings us to the Valley of Elah where for 40 days the giant Goliath has taunted Saul and his army, challenging them to send out a single man to do battle with him. No sense in an entire army perishing, right? Send out one man and we’ll settle this thing. Of course, not a single Israelite answers the challenge, lest of all the King himself.

David arrives to discover the cowardly nature of the nation’s army. He’ll rectify the situation. He’ll face the giant. He’ll defend God’s honor. He’ll become the hero. Oh, and he’ll win a bounty, and beauty (the King’s daughter for a wife) and an eternal tax exemption along the way.

We know how the story goes. David takes five smooth stones and heads to the battlefield. He encounters Goliath, employs his slingshot, lands a rock to Goliath’s forehead to disable him, advances and retrieves the giants own sword, kills him and cuts off his head. He slayed the giant! He overcame the great obstacle. He became the hero of a nation.

Now, all that remains is for me to learn the lessons of David and I can overcome the giants in my own life. I, too, can become a hero…a hero for God, even…if I can just develop the faith of David. I just want to be like David.

If I can be like David, I can face the giant of fear in my life. If I can be like David, I can overcome the worry in my life, or the doubt, or yes, even the sin in my life. I’ve heard this encounter preached this way. I’ve even preached it this way. It makes for great sermon material, too.

Lessons from David

We can learn some great lessons from David’s encounter with Goliath that make for great encouragement when we face those giants in our lives. One of those lessons comes very early on in the encounter. David arrives, and once he’s assessed the situation and determines that he can take on the Philistine, he’s immediately attacked by his own brother, Eliab. But, David doesn’t take the bait, he doesn’t let others distract him. He knows who the real enemy is. When others say he can’t, he knows he can. He knows where the real battle lies.

Yes, that’s right! I can’t be distracted by others who tell me I can never overcome the giants of fear, doubt, worry or division. I must know where the real battle lies. I must know who the real enemy is. No distractions, but sheer determination will help me to have the faith of David, and I too, can become the hero.

Another great lesson I learn is to recall God’s faithfulness. That’s what David does. When he is challenged by his brother and even King Saul concerning his capacity of overcome the giant, David recalls how God was with him when he kept his father’s sheep against lions and bears. He slew them all with a club. God was with him then, he’ll be with him as he defeats this Philistine.

Yes, that’s right! I just have to stop and recall all the times in my past when God was with me and brought me through overwhelming circumstances. I know. It’s hard to see them in the moment, but we all know how it is to look back and wonder how we ever came through a challenging time. It’s only when we look back that we see God’s faithfulness. Simply recall the positive, the victories and the challenges, and I’ll have the faith of David. I’ll face every giant with confidence, and I’ll become the hero!

Those are not the only lessons I learn, either. I can be encouraged in learning that I am called and gifted by God to do great things. All of us are, right? Certainly, David understood that he had to be himself, to use his gifts for God’s glory. King Saul tried to give David Saul’s own armor to go to the battle. David put it on, and it only took him a few steps to realize that he couldn’t wear another’s armor. He had to fight with the weapons he know. He knew rocks and slingshots. That’s what he would use.

It is such an encouragement to know that God has made each of us as unique individuals, and that He gives us permission to be ourselves. As a matter of fact, He takes all our gifts and past experiences to mold us for every battle that lies ahead of us. If I can simply master my gifts and employ them in God’s service, if I can find my “sweet spot,” then I can develop the faith of David and slay the giants in my path. I’ll be a hero on the battlefield!

Missing the Point

Those are all lies, though. At least they have been in my life. Yup! I still fight fear and worry and doubt, and every time I do, I seem to lose, no matter how much I remember these lessons from David. I can never seem to have his faith in the times I need it most. Some hero I turn out to be. Yet, I still believe the lies the preachers told me when they preached that I needed David’s faith. I believed it so much that I preached it myself…more than once!

Though I believed the lies of my own preaching, I have come to realize that David actually points me to the truth I need to discover–that the battle belongs to the Lord. That’s what David tells the Israelites, and thus he points to the real hero of the encounter. The only problem is that the Israelites miss the point. They still make David the hero. And, we still do, too.

We think if we can just be like David, if we can just have enough faith, we won’t be intimidated by the giants we face in life. Oh, yes we will! That’s because there will always be a bigger giant to face. If we were to read back further in 1 Samuel, we’d discover the nation wanted a king. Every other nation around had a king, why couldn’t Israel have a king, too? The nation rejected the Lord in favor of the tallest and best looking guy around (Saul). Saul, as their king, would fight their battles for them. He was great…until he wasn’t. He was the best of the best, until Goliath. There will always be a bigger something to face.

David pointed to that which was beyond himself–and, we know he was pointing us to Jesus Christ, who was the Lord’s anointed. David pointed out the fact that it would be God who was glorified in the victory. For the disciple of Jesus Christ, our lives are lived for His glory. Our lives are not about us overcoming our giants. That makes us the hero. It’s not about me overcoming my giants. If I overcome them, that makes me the hero, and I’m no hero. On my best day, I’m a cowering, sniveling sinner. I need Jesus!

Finding Our Hero

We are not David in the story, and our fear, worry, doubts, etc., are not our giants. They might be our idols, but not our giants. The giant in my life is SIN, and I simply cannot defeat it. Yes, David slew Goliath, but David was pointing Israel (and us) to Jesus. See, David couldn’t slay the giant of his own sin. Bathsheba lay in his future (no pun intended). David, giant slayer that he was, needed Jesus, too.

The whole episode was a foreshadowing of the greatest battle ever fought–the battle between Jesus and Satan on the cross of Calvary. It was the final battle between good and evil, between life and death, and Jesus defeated Satan once and for all. Jesus is the hero. He’s my hero. He’s our hero. What do you think he meant when he uttered the words, “It is finished” with his dying breath (John 19:30)?

Without Jesus, the battle we fight with our sin is a battle we will always lose. With Jesus, it is a battle we can never lose.

How do we win the battle? Surrender! Surrender to Jesus. That is the paradox of our faith–we win through surrender. Jesus won by the surrender of Himself to the Father’s will…to the cross. How do I slay my giants? Surrender them to Jesus. Surrender myself to Jesus.

My fear? Surrender it to Jesus. My worry? Surrender it to Jesus. My doubt? Surrender it to Jesus. My guilt? My shame? My sin? Myself? Surrender all to Jesus. He’s the hero! He’s my hero! Is He yours?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Jesus Needs Your Ass…Again!

So, this Sunday is Palm Sunday. Because I have several things going on this week, and in honor of Palm Sunday, I’m digging back into the archives of my previous blog, theunexpectedds.com for a replay of one of the most read blogs from that site. This post originally appeared March 21, 2013. Eight years seems like a generation ago. I’ve made a few edits, but enjoy the repeat! 😉

It really is dawning on me that I have to start preaching again every Sunday. I’m preaching this Sunday, and I’ve returned again to the lectionary to begin preparations. It should be easy, shouldn’t it? After all, it’s Palm Sunday. But, then again…it’s Palm Sunday. How does one remain fresh on a passage of Scripture that is preached every year at this same time. What is God saying to us this year that He hasn’t said for over two thousand years? Yes, I feel the pain of all my sisters and brothers who are busy preparing for their Palm Sunday sermon.

I have often sought to title my sermon and have the title serve as the “big idea” of the sermon. I try to let the Scripture guide me to the point of the message and then formulate a title around that point. That’s what I’ve been trying to do this week (while spending long hours in the Cabinet room dealing with appointments) and it’s a little more difficult because it’s Palm Sunday.

There is rich fodder in Luke 19:28-40. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem for the final week of his earthly ministry is filled with imagery for good sermon titles, and points to make. Of course, there is the whole matter of expectations. The crowd had their expectations of Jesus. The disciples had their expectations of Jesus. The Pharisees had their expectations of Jesus. Jesus had his own expectations of what the week ahead was to be like, and he was the only one who knew what lay at the end of the week.

Imagine how our lives would be different if we expected that next week would be our last. I am reminded of what Steve Jobs said after he discovered he was dying with cancer: “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything—all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure—these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.”

Yeah. I could do something with that. I might title it “Expecting the Unexpected” or “What Did You Expect?” That could work.

I might make something out of the whole idea of Jesus as Messiah. After all, that’s what this whole scene is about, isn’t it? I mean donkeys and palm branches take us back to prophetic readings in Zechariah and the Psalms that deal with the Messiah. Jesus was making a great proclamation by choosing to enter Jerusalem this way. We could talk about that, and I could have a title like “A New Kind of King.”

Let’s see…there’s the issue of Jesus crying. How about “From Cheers to Tears”?

Or, Jesus talking to the Pharisees about the rocks crying out in praise. Maybe “The First True Rock Star”?

I think what I really like is the part about Jesus, his disciples and the donkey. That’s an interesting account. Jesus simply sends his disciples to get the colt. “Go over there and get it. You’ll know it when you see it.” And, the disciples go, and sure enough they find the donkey, and sure enough, the owners asks the disciples, “What are you doing with my ass?” I can imagine the disciples’ response being, “The Lord needs your ass.”

Well, now, that’s a loaded question, and the response is equally as loaded. I can probably get a lot of mileage out of this point. Do we all have an ass Jesus can use? Not quite sure how the folks this Sunday would respond when they show up and the title of the sermon is printed across the bulletin “Jesus Needs Your Ass.” I suspect it would be somewhat akin to the reaction of the Pharisees when Jesus came riding into town that day. Hm? Maybe I’m on to something here.

This is a confusing scene for us who live in 21st century North America. Seriously, think of it this way. Two guys walk up to your garage, jump in your brand new Ford F-150, start it up and begin to drive away. You look at them and ask, “What are you doing with my truck?” One of the guys responds, “The Lord needs it,” and you just look dumbfounded as they drive away. If you’re like me, I’m calling the police to report a stolen vehicle. Not these owners on this day.

So why would they let the disciples take the donkey? Well, there might be this whole hospitality thing going on. Remember, it’s the beginning of the Passover week, and the city is teeming with activity. Travelers from all over the ancient world are making their way to Jerusalem. Hospitality was a big thing in 1st century eastern culture. To be known as inhospitable was one of the worst things you could be. To lend the donkey was seen simply as a way to help another.

Another reason may be pride on the part of the owners. Jesus was in town. I don’t think there would have been too many folks in Bethany or Bethphage that would not have known who Jesus was. Remember again, that it was only a couple days earlier that Jesus was in town doing a little thing like raising a guy named Lazarus from the dead. Recall the scene from John 11…there are a lot of people who witnessed that miracle, and word got around pretty fast. Jesus had made quite the name for himself in that little miracle. He was a famous rabbi now. There would have been honor in allowing a famous rabbi to ride my donkey.

Then again, some have suggested that Jesus had pre-arranged this scene. Perhaps the animal belonged to Mary, Martha and Lazarus, and Jesus had already made preparations with them for the disciples to come get the donkey. I don’t believe this to be the case, otherwise, Luke, the historian, one who is intentional in giving us details, would have given us a clue that this was what had happened. Surely this was not simply some pre-arranged business deal on Jesus’ part.

Perhaps there’s another reason. Perhaps the key is found in the use of the term “Lord.” Perhaps the owners knew who Jesus was, and when the disciples referred to “The Lord,” there was little doubt in the owners minds that Jesus was who he claimed to be. If Jesus needed something they had, to offer it to him would be an act of devotion and love. No, it became an act of worship.

Here’s why I believe this is the case. Two significant pieces of evidence: One, no questions on the part of the owners. What questions would you and I ask? 

  • What are you doing with my donkey?
  • Who is “the Lord?”
  • How far will you take him?
  • Will you bring him back when you’re done?

Again, these are not details Luke is likely to omit. But he does.

The second significant piece of evidence Luke gives us is the telling of the story of the king and the ten servants immediately preceding this scene. Jesus tells the story of the nobleman who went away to be crowned king, but before he leaves he entrusts his silver to ten of his servants. Upon his return he calls the servants to give account of his silver. The first two return the king’s silver with interest. The third, because he was afraid of the king, simply returned what had been given to him. The story is about stewardship. 

Then, Luke gives a living example of the parable…a man with a donkey, offering what he has to the Jesus. It was an investment, and no small one at that. This was a valuable asset for the owners. Think about wealth in the 1stcentury…often measured by the ownership of livestock. The ass was referred to as a “beast of burden,” meaning it was used to transport things…it was the 1st century equivalent of a moving van. But, the ass was used for various tasks around the family farm and so it was also the equivalent of the modern day tractor. And, then, like Jesus does in today’s passage, people would use the ass as a means of transportation…the equivalent of a car. A moving van, a tractor, a car…a very valuable animal indeed, and here, Jesus commands a brand new one, one that has never been ridden. This was no small request on Jesus’ part. This was a sacrificial gift.

The ass was a gift given to Jesus to help usher in the Kingdom. This was the dawning of the Kingdom. This unknown, unnamed person probably had little clue what he was involving himself in, but he knew Jesus, and he trusted Jesus, and he gave to Jesus…and literally, he helped usher in the Kingdom. His gift changed the world.

What is Jesus asking for from us? What do we have to offer that will usher in the Kingdom? What resource is available to be utilized to literally carry Jesus down the road?

“Sometimes I get the impression that God wants me to give him something and sometimes I don’t give it because I don’t know for sure, and then I feel bad because I’ve missed my chance. Other times I know he wants something but I don’t give it because I’m too selfish. And other times, too few times, I hear him and I obey him and feel honored that a gift of mine would be used to carry Jesus to another place. And still other times I wonder if my little deeds today will make a difference in the long haul.

Maybe you have those questions, too. All of us have a donkey. You and I each have something in our lives, which, if given back to God, could, like the donkey, move Jesus and his story further down the road. Maybe you can sing or hug or program a computer or speak Swahili or write a check.

Whichever, that’s your donkey.

Whichever, your donkey belongs to him.

It really does belong to him. Your gifts are his and the donkey was his. The original wording of the instructions Jesus gave to his disciples is proof: “If anyone asks you why you are taking the donkeys, you are to say, ’Its Lord is in need.’”

Max Lucado, And the Angels Were Silent, pg. 54

Our resources, our time, our money, our talents, our jobs, our families, our homes…our lives are gift from God for God. What has been entrusted to you for Jesus to use? What ass is Jesus asking for?

Nah! I probably won’t use that title. A bit too shocking. A bit too much to leave to the imagination. A bit too much to be misconstrued. It’s a novel thought, though. Maybe it’s time we were a bit more shocking in our preaching. After all, it will be a shocking end to the week when Jesus rises from the grave.

My! My! My! The task of preaching on Palm Sunday and Holy Week. What’s a preacher to do? I suppose it’s time to live into the reality that Jesus needs my ass.

Until next time, keep looking up…

My Word for the Day…

It’s Tuesday! That means I have to write something. No, there’s no law that says I do, and it’s only been a few weeks since I didn’t write on a Tuesday (I wrote on Wednesday that week), but writing has become a discipline for me, so it is a way for me to hold myself accountable. Of course, if you’re going to write, it helps to have something to write about. Paraphrasing an old preacher: “It’s better to have something to write than to have to write something.” Yet, I write for the sake of writing. I suppose this is your invitation to join me in my scattered thoughts.

TRUST?

There is one word on my mind today that I really should write about. That word? Trust. Actually, what’s on my mind in the trust that is lacking in our world today. It bothers me. Hardly anyone trusts anyone else these days. Democrats don’t trust Republicans. That’s fine. Republicans return the favor. Average everyday citizens don’t trust the government. That’s fine, too. The government pretty much returns the favor.

I could expand the thought to include the lack of trust that exists in the religious world, too. Let’s face it, the Roman Catholic Church sexual abuse scandal, the split in the Anglican communion and the soon-coming split in the United Methodist Church has created an environment where trust has been greatly diminished in the venerable institution that is called “The Church.” I could write more on the lack of trust in the church, but it wouldn’t be helpful in restoring trust (it might actually hurt), and as disciples of Jesus Christ, we’ve been committed the ministry of reconciliation, so I’ll just move on from the topic.

Of course, there is a growing distrust of our educational institutions, as well. Let’s see? What are people distrustful of? “Progressive” curriculum. Parents who chose to home-school. Teacher’s unions. The student loan debacle. School closings during the pandemic. I don’t know, these seem to only be scratching the surface of where people are displaying their mistrust of the educational institution.

I could probably go on, but I hope you get my point. Trust, or the lack thereof, is on my mind this morning, but I refuse to let distrust dominate my thoughts today. Rather, I’m going to chose another word–grace. Why? Because as I ponder the trust deficit among us, I am concerned about the part I’ve played in increasing that deficit, and I am reminded of how much I need grace.

GRACE

I am going to chose this morning to allow my mind to be drawn to what has been called the Magna Carta of grace:

     8 God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. 10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

Ephesians 2: 8 – 10 (New Living Translation

Grace, God’s grace is the only thing that will save us, and I need it in abundance, not only today, but everyday, so I’ll focus on His grace today, rather than my distrust. God’s grace can take a heinous murderer and turn him into the world’s greatest evangelist. That’s powerful stuff right there!

Need I remind you of the Apostle Paul? When the church was in its infancy, Paul was a Pharisee threatened by the insurgency being created by these rabble rousers who followed an itinerant rabbi put to death by the Roman authorities. Paul was so zealous to squash this “movement” that he went and offered himself as a bounty hunter to the religious authorities so he could hunt down these people who followed “The Way.”

He was successful, too. The Book of Acts tells us a young man named Saul was consenting at the death of Stephen. But, we also know Paul as the person who would pen 13 of the 27 books of the New Testament. We also know Paul as the person most responsible for modern Christian theology, and we know Paul as the person most responsible for the spread of Christianity into Europe. This Paul, would place God’s grace at the center of his theology, and thus it became the center of ours, too.

It would be really easy to define grace again, but rather than do that, I invite you to click here. Suffice it to say that for reasons I don’t fully understand, yet rooted in the nature of God, God gives Himself to us, attaches Himself to us, and acts to rescue us. Because of His mercy and love, God saves us, and that saving is a result of God’s grace. If we were to read Ephesians 2: 1 – 7, we would see that Paul is clear—wrath should have come, but grace comes instead. The gospel of grace says God gives Himself to us without any preconditions or complaints, and if so, then we are given significance, and we find our value in God’s relationship to us. The attention is not on us, though, but upon the One who loves us so deeply. 

THE CHALLENGE OF GRACE

The gospel of grace challenges us. It challenges us by the very fact that a murderer’s life can be changed. We applaud the Apostle Paul for the transformation that God did in his life. Our trust in the gospel of grace wanes though when we think about Jeffery Dahmer (caution–graphic material). Dahmer was a child molesting, cannibalistic, serial killer responsible for raping, murdering, dismembering and consuming 17 men and boys. After his arrest and conviction Dahmer had, by all accounts, an authentic conversion to Christianity. He experienced the gospel of grace, and that makes us incredibly uncomfortable.

Why are we surprised that God could do that for Jeffery Dahmer? He does it for us, doesn’t he? J. D. Walt, who was Dean of the Chapel at Asbury Seminary for a while, expresses this sentiment in a recent devotional:

“Grace is incomprehensibly comforting yet incomparably devastating. Grace kills the human made economy of performance and merit. Grace breaks down every good thought (and every bad thought) I have about myself and replaces them with God’s good thought about me alone. He does the same for Jeffrey Dahmer and Saul of Tarsus. In and of myself, I bring before Almighty God the same merit that they do– which is none. If I can enter on these terms, I will receive the very same gift they do– which is everything. If I can’t exchange my nothing for God’s everything, just like everybody else, Jesus may as well be speaking to me when he says, ‘Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you’.”

J. D. Walt, The Seedbed Daily Text

There is so much more I want to write about grace, but my time is short this morning. I’m simply going to put distrust out of my mind and focus on the wonderful gift God has given me (and you, too!)–the gift of grace. I need to catch a glimpse of the Kingdom of God this morning. By grace, I’ll see it. I have to trust Him. I have no other choice. May I invite you to do the same?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Life’s Greatest Challenge…

I’ve spent the past few weeks learning to love again. I say again. It may be for the first time, but I rather hope that it’s simply a reset of love. I have learned that love from the biblical perspective—that sacrificial, self-denying love—is first, the greatest characteristic that is displayed by those called disciples of Christ. I’ve also learned that love is also the greatest commandment as Jesus himself affirmed that we are to love God and love others. What I’m learning more and more is that love—transformative, life-giving love—is also the greatest challenge I will face as a disciple of Jesus.

Jesus tells me as much in the Sermon on the Mount of Matthew 5 – 7. Most times, it’s enough to let scripture speak for itself:

43 “You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. 44 But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! 45 In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike. 46 If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. 47 If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. 48 But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.

Matthew 5: 43 – 48 (New Living Translation)

The Transformative Power of Love

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has called his disciples together and said, “Come here and sit down. Let me tell you what life will look like as my disciples.” Jesus is seeking to give his disciples a new worldview—not so much new as corrected because Jesus wasn’t making new laws for his disciples but correcting some false assumptions about the law as it had evolved through the years.

Jesus would say to them, “You’ve heard it said…,” yet it’s like Jesus was recalling other parts of the law—parts like Leviticus 19:18–“Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against a fellow Israelite, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.” Or, perhaps Exodus 23: 4 -5–“If you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey that has strayed away, take it back to its owner. If you see that the donkey of someone who hates you has collapsed under its load, do not walk by. Instead, stop and help.” Jesus was saying, “Let’s remember what the Law really says, and I remind you that we love everyone—even our enemies.”

Hard words, indeed! Love God? Sure. Love our neighbors? Working on that one. But, love our enemy? How do we do that? More importantly, why would we do that? Because Jesus knew that love–biblical love–is the most transformative force in the universe.

A little girl was given candy by her friend. She got home to show her mother, and mother said, “Your friend was really sweet.”

“Yes,” said the little girl, “she gave me more, but I gave some away.”

Mom said, “Who did you give it too?”

The daughter said, “I gave it to a girl who pushes me off the sidewalk and makes faces at me.”

“Why in the world would you do that,” the mother asked?

“Because I thought it would help her know I want to be kind to her, and maybe then she won’t be so unkind to me,” the daughter replied.

Perhaps Solomon knew something about the transformative power of love when he wrote “If your enemies are hungry, give them food to eat. If they are thirsty, give them water to drink. You will heap burning coals of shame on their heads, and the Lord will reward you” (Proverbs 25: 21 – 22).

I’ve learned that love–any love–requires an emotional engagement. If I love God with all my heart and soul, that requires emotional engagement. If I would love my neighbor, I must be moved with compassion (or pity), and that’s an emotions. If I would love my enemies, it’s really no different. It’s likely only to be that I hate them, but guess what? Hate is an emotion! The truth is our engagement may not necessarily be a positive one, but at least it’s a starting place.

Love is a Decision

Beyond connecting on the emotional level, I’ve also learned that love is a decision of the will. It is a decision of the will that transforms the heart. It is a victory of over our rational and our natural instincts. In Jesus’ day, the natural and rational had taken over the law. The Law was used for revenge and retribution. If we were to read the surrounding passages of scripture we’d hear all that “eye for an eye” and “tooth for a tooth” talk. That’s our natural inclination. Jesus wants to elevate us to a different level. He wants to elevate his disciples to God’s level, and he knew our love for even our enemies would do just that.

Corrie ten Boom shares this true story:

     “It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, a former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there – the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie’s pain-blanched face.

     He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein.” He said. “To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!” His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side.

     Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him. I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I prayed, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.

     As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.”

Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place

The love that loves our enemies is not a natural thing. It is a supernatural thing. It comes only from God, yet it comes when we act in obedience to his call on our lives. See, we don’t have to like it to be faithful, we just have to do it.

If love is a decision of the will, I have to make three decisions to be obedient to Jesus. First, I must decide to bless my enemies. That’s how Luke’s gospel records this account of the Sermon on the Mount. In Luke 6: 27 – 28 (NIV), Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” In this same sermon, Jesus talks about “turning the other cheek,” and he introduces the Golden Rule of doing unto others as you would have them do to you. That’s what we do when we decide to bless our enemies.

Robert E. Lee was asked what he thought of a fellow Confederate officer who had made derogatory remarks about Lee. General Lee rated him to be a rather satisfactory fellow. Perplexed, the man who asked Lee the question said, “General, I guess you don’t know what he’s been saying about you?”

“I know,” Lee responded, “but, you asked my opinion of him, not his opinion of me.”

The second decision I need to make is to pray for my enemies. I am thoroughly convinced that I can’t pray for a person and hate them at the same time. It’s impossible. William Barclay says, “The surest way of killing bitterness is to pray for the man we are tempted to hate.” While we think prayer changes things, more times than not the thing it changes is us. I must decide to bless my enemies, and pray for my enemies.

Finally, I need to decide to forgive my enemies. Forgiveness, like love itself, is a choice. As Corrie Ten Boom gave testimony, forgiveness was transformative, not only for the relationship between her and the guard, but inside herself. Why is that so? Because forgiveness is what makes us “perfect.” The word Matthew uses for perfect is teleios, and it doesn’t mean without flaw or blemish, as we so often use it in English.

While we think prayer changes things, more times than not the thing it changes is us.

The word Matthew uses means “brought to completion, mature, full-grown.” We are made in God’s image. We are made to be like God, and when we love our enemies we are acting like children of God.  The Bible teaches that we realize our full humanity only by becoming more and more like Christ. The one thing that distinguishes us and makes us like God is the love which never ceases to care for people, no matter what they do to us. We realize our humanity, we become perfect, when we learn to forgive as God forgives and love as God loves.

Bambalang

That’s exactly what the people in the village of Bambalang, in Cameroon, Africa discovered. Pastor Pius Mbahlegue tells the story in March, 2011, the village had a dispute with a neighboring village over traditional burial rights. The rival village attacked. 300 homes were burned, and 3,000 people were displaced. The residents of Bambalang were unable to return to their village until the Cameroon military came and drove the rival villagers out.

The Bambalang residents returned and found nothing left. Even their rice field had been burned. The attack began on a Sunday and lasted through the following Thursday. As the villagers returned to worship the following Sunday, it was the very day planned to dedicate the Gospel of Luke which had been translated into their native language. As the residents read from Luke’s Gospel, they came to chapter 6:27 and read of loving your enemies.

One resident, upon reading the words in her own language said it was like a dream, that the words were for her and for her village, and with that the villagers made the decision to overcome hate with love, and to love the rival villagers with the love of Christ. Thus, began a transformation in them, and in their relationship with the rival village. As one villager said, “I can’t hate them and not forgive them because I would want people to forgive me.” 

I’ve learned a lot as I’ve sought to reset the love in my life. I’ve learned that love is, indeed, hard work. It’s hard work to love God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength. And, it’s hard work to love my neighbor as myself. As hard work as those two loves are, there is no harder work than loving my enemy. It is, perhaps, this life’s greatest challenge.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Learning to Love (Part 2)…

There is a passage in 1 John that haunts me often: “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen” (1 John 4:20). It haunts me in light of the second part of the “Great Commandment” that Jesus stated in response to a lawyer’s question in Mark 12:

28 One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” 29 “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. 30 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

Mark 12: 28 – 31

I know that I love that which I’m passionate about, and as I’ve contemplated the first part of Jesus’s great commandment, I pray that I’m passionate about God, and that to love Him passionately is to desire Him, to devote ourselves to Him, and to discipline our lives to be with him through windows of grace like prayer, fasting, bible study, worship and others.

There is, then, this second part that troubles me–love my neighbor as myself. As Jesus gives the commandment, it seems as though the two are eternally woven together, that there cannot be the one without the other. It seems as the Apostle John views them the same way.

The starting place, perhaps, is to love myself. That seems a bit selfish on its face. Love myself? That seems too deep a subject to delve into in this blog. There would be too much navel gazing that would, in fact, become self-centered. Regardless, we are commanded to love our neighbor. Let me focus on that one…

Jesus Tells a Story

The thought makes me like another lawyer Jesus encountered. We read that story in Luke’s gospel. You can read the encounter here, but let me offer the Lynn paraphrase. We know it as the story of the Good Samaritan. Jesus tells the story to a lawyer who wanted to know how to receive eternal life, and he answered his own question with a reciting of the Jewish Shema of Deuteronomy 6—“love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.” Then, he adds, “love your neighbor as yourself.” Luke adds in verse 29 that the lawyer wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?”

He wanted to justify himself. After all, you really don’t expect me to love everyone, do you? If we want to justify what we do, we can simply define people and circumstances using our own definition and thereby absolve ourselves from any guilt for not doing what we knew we should do, or for doing something we knew we shouldn’t. We’ve all got a little bit of lawyer in us, don’t we?

In response, Jesus tells the story: A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho and was attacked by bandits. They beat him up, stripped him and left him for dead beside the road. We could stop right there and say the man had no business going from Jerusalem to Jericho alone. It was a road known to be frequented by bandits. See, it was the man’s own fault. He should have been smarter. He took a risk and the risk didn’t pay off. Certainly, that’s what those who stood around Jesus listening that day would have thought initially. It’s the man’s own fault. How often have we seen someone broken and beat up by life, and we thought, “Well, they made an unwise decision. They made their bed, now they have to sleep in it?” Probably, much too often.

Jesus continues by saying a Jewish priest came along, but saw the man and passed by on the other side of the road. Next, a Levite (or Temple assistant) came by, and likewise went around the man on the other side of the road. The good Jews listening to the story would have said, “Yup. That’s what I would have done.”

Neither a priest nor a Levite could sully themselves with the blood of a beaten man. It would have rendered them unclean and they would not be fit for service in the Temple. They would have to go through a drawn-out cleansing process, and it simply was not worth the effort. They made a prioritized decision. They had more pressing business to which to attend.

Then, Jesus says, a dreaded (Jesus’s word–not mine) Samaritan came by. Jesus is setting his listeners up, and he’s also setting up this lawyer. Samaritan’s were hated by Jews, and no good Jew, would want a Samaritan to help even if they were lying in a ditch dying. That’s exactly what the listeners and the lawyer are thinking, but Jesus’ story reminds us our neighbor isn’t necessarily who we think it is.

So, this Samaritan sees the man, and Jesus says, “he felt deep pity.” So, the Samaritan kneels, soothes and bandages the wounds. He puts the man on his donkey, takes him to an inn and cares for him. The next day, he offers the innkeeper money to take care of the man. He does, after all, have to go on about his business, but he tells the innkeeper, “if you have any other expenses beyond what I’ve paid you, when I come back, I’ll settle up with you.”

Jesus asks the lawyer, “Now who was a neighbor to the man attacked by bandits?”

The lawyer replied, “The one who showed mercy.”

Jesus said, “Yup. Now, go and do the same.”

Love IS Emotional

So, what can I learn from this encounter about showing love to my neighbor? First, I can acknowledge that love engages me on an emotional level. Certainly, that’s true with romantic love, but I’m reminded that we’re not talking about romantic love. We’re talking about “agape” love—that sacrificial, self-denying kind of love. Yet, even agape love engages us on an emotional level.

The Samaritan, Jesus said, “felt deep pity.” In other words, he felt compassion. Pity and compassion are both emotions, so love is emotional, but it isn’t ONLY emotional. It is the emotion, the compassion that motivates us to act, so even though it may be emotional, it becomes tangible. Compassion was the Samaritan’s motivation, and it had nothing to do with the fact the man should not have ventured down the Jericho road alone. We think, for some reason, that because a person has made a decision that led to bad consequences that we should have less compassion for them. Nothing could be further from the truth. If a person is broken and battered, we have a responsibility to love them the more. 

We should have compassion because Jesus had compassion on the crowds who sought him:

Jesus traveled through all the cities and villages of that area, teaching in the synagogues and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom. And wherever he went, he healed people of every sort of disease and illness. He felt great pity for the crowds, because their problems were so great and they didn’t know where to go for help. They were like sheep without a shepherd.

Matthew 9: 35-36

The NIV says, “he was moved with compassion.” Jesus, moved with compassion, healed, restored, forgave and died. He did it all for us because he loved us. What started in the heart of God as compassion, mercy and pity ended at the cross in deep love and grace, and from that came the forgiveness of our sins and the restoration of our souls.

Love IS Tangible

So, love is rooted on the emotional level, but quickly becomes tangible. If we love others, it will begin as we connect on an emotional level with others. We must remove ourselves from the center of life and feel compassion and concern for others. Else, we’ll be like the priest and the Levite. We’ll say, “I’ve got other things that demand my attention. I have my agenda. You’re not a priority right now.” To love others is to see a need and to be moved with compassion so that we desire to see lives different, better, more whole.

Emotion sustains us as we move to action. Without emotional engagement, the commitment to act will wane. Love is both emotional commitment and tangible action—the action is like that we see in the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan knelt, bandaged the wounds and carried the man to safety. The tangible act confirmed his compassion.

Love IS Sacrificial

But, this love was also sacrificial. The Samaritan had already invested his time by stopping, bandaging and carrying the man to the inn, and yes, even he took the risk of being rejected. Some Jews would rather die than have a Samaritan help them, much less touch them. It’s possible that the beaten man could have said, “Get away from me. I’ll die first!” I think, though, that only healthy people are quite so stubborn. When we’re desperately clinging to life, we’ll grasp at any straw, accept any help. The prospect of terminal circumstances changes our perspective rather quickly. Yet, rejection remains a real possibility. The lesson? We should never let our fear of rejection keep us from loving others.

We should never let our fear of rejection keep us from loving others.

The Samaritan not only sacrificed his time and energy, but he sacrificed his money, as well. He paid the innkeeper to care for the man. His money became a tool he used to demonstrate his love for others. Money is amoral. Our morals determine how we utilize the resources entrusted to us. If we ever get to the point that we see money as anything other than a tool for promoting life-transforming ministry, that’s the day our discipleship begins to die because that’s the day we turn inward and become selfish. 

Financial resources can be blessing, or they can be curse. Giving generously is a core value of a disciple of Jesus Christ. It is a means of showing our love in tangible ways. If we utilize money as a means of glorifying God, we’ll discover His blessings in ways we can only begin to imagine. But, if we grasp tightly to money in fear of losing it, we’ll discover that it will soon vanish, and we’ll be left wondering what happened, and why God seems so far away.     

One more thing I see, and that is that love is on-going. Loving others is not a one-time endeavor. Love is lived in relationship, and the Samaritan said to the inn keeper, “When I come back…” He gave money to the inn-keeper, and he had every intention of returning to check on things.

Life transformation happens in relationship. That’s why a church’s mission outreach must be more deep than broad. We can do a little good in a lot of places, but little transformation takes place, either for others or for us. Or, we can do a lot in a few places, and thereby build relationships that begin to transform the world, one relationship at a time.

I’m not sure that I’ve really learned anything about loving my neighbor as myself or not. Most days, I don’t even really know where to start, but if I’ve learned nothing else, I’ve learned maybe I need to start with the person in front of me.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Learning How to Love (Part 1)…

I suppose it’s appropriate that I’m thinking a lot about love this week. After all, yesterday was Valentine’s Day, and I shared a message with the folks at Beulah Community Church on the biblical understanding of love (watch it here). As much as I think I understand the concept of love, I find that I struggle greatly with the actual act of loving. That’s the rub for me.

Those of us who have grown up in church have heard these words all our lives: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12: 30-31, Lynn Paraphrase). We’ve heard them, and I, for one, have always asked, “What does it mean to love God?” Let’s not talk about loving others. I want to know what it looks like to love God? What does it feel like to love God? Sometimes I think it’s easier to love others than it is to love God. Of course, the Apostle John wonders, “if we don’t love people we can see, how can we love God, whom we cannot see?” (1 John 4:21). I assume if you’re reading this that you do, deep in your heart want to love God, too. Like me, you just want to know how.

An Encounter with Jesus

I think to know how to love God, we first need to understand the context in which Jesus made the statement. Jesus made the statement after his authority was challenged. The Pharisees were attempting to entrap him, so they had challenged him on the issue of Jews paying taxes. Pharisees didn’t like paying taxes to the occupying government, and worse, they hated the Jews who served as tax collectors for the Romans. Inhabitants were responsible for paying 1% of the income as an income tax, but in addition to that tax there were import and export taxes, crop taxes, sales taxes, property taxes, an emergency tax and others. Sounds familiar to me! Jesus said, “Pay your taxes.” He wasn’t going to be trapped.

Then, some Sadducees approached and asked a question about the resurrection. Hey? If the Pharisees couldn’t trap him, perhaps the Sadducees might. Sadducees and Pharisees were like political parties in the United States, except they were religious parties and they held differing opinions on theological issues. It might be more akin to Baptists and Methodists today. They’re both Christian, but with different understandings on certain issues. Sadducees didn’t believe in the resurrection from the dead, and to prove their point, they chose to challenge Jesus with an outrageous puzzle. We won’t go into what Jesus said to them. Suffice it to say, Jesus answered well.

One lawyer who had been witnessing the entire episode perceived that Jesus was a pretty smart fellow, so he thought he might give it a try. Now, think about this: a lawyer is steeped in the law—even the religious law. So, the lawyer asks a religious question, and if he was asking a religious question, he was expecting a religious answer. That’s exactly what Jesus gave him.

Jesus answered the Jewish lawyer with the Jewish “Shema.” It’s Deuteronomy 6:4 – 5, and every self-respecting Jewish male recited it every morning as part of his daily devotional. Listen to Deut. 6: 4 – 9: 

4 “Listen, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. 5 And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. 6 And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. 7 Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. 8 Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. 9 Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

Loving God, for the Jew, as it was meant to be, was about living in the constant awareness of God’s presence and grace. The purpose of the Shema was to incorporate God into daily life. Daily living was the context for teaching children about God. Daily living was the context for experiencing God. God was not just for one day a week. God was for every day. God IS for every day. If we don’t experience God somewhere, some way every day, we need to question whether we experience God at all.

Jesus told the lawyer, “Love God with all your life—heart and soul (the emotional & spiritual self), mind (the intellectual self), and strength (the physical self). Jesus was saying, “Employ all your energies—put your whole self into it. In one word—be passionate. I love the way Eugene Peterson says it in The Message: Jesus said, “The first in importance is, ‘Listen, Israel: The Lord your God is one; so love the Lord God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.’

What are we passionate about? That’s a fair question, isn’t it? It’s fair because we know we invest in those things we’re passionate about. Here’s a list of passions. Where’s yours?

  • Movies
  • Clothes
  • Sports
  • Politics
  • Music
  • Food (my personal favorite)

We can even be passionate about faith, but that’s usually only one day a week. If we’re not careful, we can let life steal our passion. That’s what happens to most of us in our relationship with God.

Passion Killers

Pastor Rick Warren has a list of what he calls passion killers. He says these things are what kill our passion for Christ. First is an unbalanced schedule. Life is about balance. Too much of anything, even a good thing can be bad. Work is a great thing, but too much work can kill our passion for our spouse, our hobby, our children, or our relationship with God. 

Second is an unused talent. I know when I was a DS, and I wasn’t preaching every week, I could feel myself losing that passion. I’m passionate about preaching. I may not be very good at it, but I love to do it. You pay me to be your pastor, but I preach for free. 

A third passion killer Warren identifies is unconfessed sin. Guilt is a great passion killer. Warren says that, “We don’t walk around thinking, ‘I have a sin in my life. I am a guilty person’.” Rather, we rationalize it. Consciously we think, “It’s no big deal,” but subconsciously it gnaws at us. We don’t have to carry that guilt, though. Christ died for our sin. Confess it, and move on. Don’t let guilt kill your passion for God.

A fourth passion killer is unresolved conflict. Conflict divides us from one another. If there’s conflict at work, you don’t want to go to work. If there’s conflict at home, you don’t want to go home. If there’s conflict at church, you don’t want to go to church. Conflict will kill our passion for anything, and that includes God.

A fifth passion killer Warren notes is an unsupported lifestyle. He says we’re created for relationship, and if we live in loneliness, we find our passion for most all life diminished. God created us for relationship with himself, and with each other.

Loving God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength is about rediscovering that passion. How do we restore the passion in our lives? Three words: desire, devotion and discipline.

Three D’s

Desire is the first characteristic of loving God. We’ll never love God unless we first desire Him. We pursue the passions of our lives –whatever they are—yet, they too often leave us unfulfilled. It might just be because our hearts are made for God. I love how the wisdom writer says it in Ecclesiastes 3:11: Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.

Devotion is the next characteristic of loving God. There is no better picture of absolute devotion than a man and woman standing at the altar on their wedding day. The smiles, the endearing gazes into each other’s eyes, the little wink as the vows are spoken to each other, and the anticipation of the coming night.

I get a good view of this every time I perform a wedding, and even the worst couple, in that moment, are carried away in heart, soul, mind and strength. The great A. W. Tozer said, “We are called to an everlasting preoccupation with God.” That is devotion, and as husband and wife stand at the altar hopelessly devoted to each other, I am reminded that we are the bride of Christ.

The final word is discipline. I don’t like that word mainly because I have little self-will. It makes me cringe and think I have to do legalistic things to meet God’s approval. I think it’s being “obedient.” Obedience is not how we love God. Obedience is a response to love. Obedience is evidence of our love. Discipline is not law, but is a means of experiencing God’s grace. Spiritual disciplines like fasting, confession, Bible reading, solitude, worship and prayer are tangible ways we incorporate God in the every day.

As I write this morning, I am reminded that Lent begins Wednesday, and Lent is the perfect time to practice the spiritual disciplines more intentionally so that I can love God more meaningfully. Oh, and there’s one more discipline—the sacrament of Holy communion—it, too, is a way to incorporate God in the everyday. That’s what it means to love God—experiencing Him every day!

How will you experience God today…and everyday?

Until next time, keep looking up…