journey

The Comeback Kid

2010-05-25T15:05:00.002-05:00

It seems like a blog takes on a life of its own - until you quit feeding it. And then it crashes and burns rather quickly. I have been off the wagon (blogging wagon, that is) for a few months and would like to jump back on.

Have you ever gotten into a funk? Just no heart for the things you've always enjoyed and it takes such an effort to do the things you always took for granted. I'm not talking depression, but just a cloud of melancholy that seems to suck the joy out of life. I've spent some time there for the last few months. As I look back I can see several contributing factors, but in the middle of it all it's hard to see what to do or where to go to get out of it.

Springtime helps. I think winter has finally whispered its last goodbye here in the Roaring Fork Valley. Not like it didn't fight to stay around. Just last week we had another snowfall and then this morning the temperature dipped into the 20's, but here at our house, we are heavy into gardening and mowing (a nasty consequence of fertilizing). I can finally take the blankets off of our tomato plants and maybe, just maybe we'll be slicing fresh tomatoes in the next couple of weeks. How, you ask? I cheated. At Neimann's Gardens (Scott and Birgie are friends of mine), they had some tomato plants left over from last season that they kept in the greenhouse over the winter, and so when I bought them they were two feet tall with blooms and tomatoes already on them. Worth every extra penny!

Everything comes at a price, including dedication to a blog. I'll write if you'll read (and comment from time to time). Welcome back to the journey.

Happy whatever holiday it is!

2009-10-12T11:12:00.002-05:00

Happy mid-October fall national holiday! I don't remember the last time I heard it called Columbus day. But I would think every guy would come to its defense. It's the ultimate guy holiday.

Here was a guy who took off without knowing where he was going, didn't stop and ask directions, and when he wound up in the wrong place made it sound like that's what he meant to do all along. So I say, hats off to good old Chris Columbus, the patron saint of guys who are lost but won't admit it.

Odd duck?

2009-10-07T12:48:00.003-05:00

I know, I'm an odd duck in some ways (I'm sure my wife would say "some?"), but let her get her own blog and say it. I'm sticking with some, and if I were any more normal I'd have no fun at all. We all have our idiosyncrisies and peculiarities.

Most of the time we're unaware of them - like how we pronounce (or mis-pronounce) words - that's what thirty years of living in Texas, Oklahoma and Tennessee will do to you. Somewhere along the way I picked up "ya'll" and I just can't get rid of it. The word "measure" comes out funny - at least my wife and kids laugh at me whenever I use the word (it sounds just fine to me). My wife did finally get me to switch to calling those southern nuts pĭ–kawnś instead of peḗ –kans.
I like big coffee mugs – at elders meetings on Sunday mornings, I am mercilessly ridiculed for the size of my cup (it really only holds three cups), but I don’t see any reason to keep getting up and down for refills (and I only refill it once). You would think I emptied the entire coffee pot with it.

I’ve always like canvas deck shoes – the cheap ones they sell at Wal-Mart. My daughter especially would make fun of how out of style they were (as though I care anything about style). Ironically, a couple of years ago she looked down and said “cool shoes, Dad.” I asked her if she was being sarcastic (I don’t know where she picked up that quality), and she said, “no, really – they’re in style now.”

See, if you keep doing something long enough, it’s bound to be cool sooner or later. Now, if I can just hold on long enough for the next wave of paisley ties…

Fall has Arrived

2009-10-02T11:57:00.003-05:00

It's a beautiful time of year here in Glenwood Springs. We had our first frost last night, though on the other side of town, a little bit higher in elevation, they've already had snow. The valley is awash in color. The reds, yellows, oranges and greens of the oak brush on the mountain sides, and the incredible golds of the aspen turning. We've seen the last of the summer-like highs and are settled in for a few weeks of 50's and 60's - cool in the morning, warming up in afternoon. Perfect weather for hiking and fishing and outdoor activities. It's a great place to live (or visit, if you happen to be lucky enough to have a friend in the area).

The snow will be here soon enough, and our thoughts will turn to snow tires and snow shovels, but for right now, we are enjoying Fall for all it's worth.

2009-09-29T11:04:00.001-05:00

Oops! This is what happens when you let your blog go inactive for too long. They put you into limbo. I guess I'd better get back in the swing of things and start writing again. Check back tomorrow...

Are They / They Are Among Us

2008-05-09T09:28:00.002-05:00

All Coloradoans are proud and relieved – I know I am. We are leading the nation in a much needed area of concern: Space aliens. Yesterday, Jeff Peckman made a proposal before the Denver city council to establish an Extra-Terrestrial Affairs Commission, and at a bargain price of only 75,000 taxpayer dollars. I can tell you’re already jealous. I’m surprised that some city in California hasn’t beat us to it (and for all I know they may have already), but it is still a proud day for Colorado. We will have a detailed plan for what to do, not if, but when we encounter space aliens. Our emergency workers will be trained in how to respond to run-ins with extra-terrestrials. And to think, I would have been ignorant had I happened to meet a space alien before this training was available. It makes me thankful there are people who have the time and interest to look after me in my ignorance. The only obstacle now to getting it on the ballot in November is 4,000 signatures. Sign me up! It will be a perfect complement to the other major issue in the November election.

Roofing 101

2008-05-05T14:35:00.003-05:00

I didn’t realize there was such a controversy over hammer versus air gun for putting shingles on your roof. In fact, the only one I’ve heard who thinks that old school is superior is Greg, but then again, Greg has never seen me swing a hammer. I figured it up – each bundle of shingles has 22 shingles and I have 150 bundles of shingles (plus 9 boxes of ridge cap shingles) to lay. Putting 5 nails in each shingle would mean, if I was able to drive each nail with one swing – which I can’t – I would swing the hammer more than 17,000 times (and that’s not even taking into account the misses, which would be many, where I put a divot into the face of the shingle or bend a nail sideways). So far with an air gun, in one day, I’ve put up about 500 sq. ft. of shingles and haven’t noticed a badly driven nail yet. I do carry a hammer for the occasional double tap (two nails at once), and drive the second one in, but other than that, I’ve only seen a remarkable consistency from the air nailer that I couldn’t begin to accomplish by hammer.

The real story was Saturday morning, when Brent and his two sons, Nick and Jessie showed up to help me get the shingles on the roof. Brent, who is a member at our church, is a general contractor here in the valley, and one of the most sought-after in Aspen (which is saying a lot!). He heard that I was going to roof my own house and knew I was in over my head. He offered to come over and help, and despite my polite refusal, he insisted it was no problem. So he, Nick and Jessie (both also in the construction business) showed up on their day off. Brent brought his skid loader (a fork lift on steroids) and lifted the pallets of shingles up above the porch where we carried them up to the different areas of the roof. After about an hour, I knew I was in trouble – I definitely wasn’t up to the task physically. The bundles weigh 80 lbs. and hoisting them on your shoulder and carrying them up a steep pitched roof to the top and stacking them is more than my sedentary lifestyle had prepared me for (who was I kidding thinking I could do it myself carrying each bundle up a ladder to the top of the roof?) These guys were like machines – they weren’t even breathing hard! I told Brent I swore I would never be out-worked by a 20 year old, and he said, “Don’t feel bad – these aren’t just any 20 year olds – these are my sons. They have been doing this since 4th grade.”

When we had finished getting the shingles on the roof, Brent started nailing the shingles – we have a skylight above the entryway and he also knew it was going to be more complicated than I realized. So he not only nailed about 20 rows of shingles, but cut, bent and put the flashing around the skylight. Watching him work was like watching an artist. He did everything so skillfully and precisely – he never had to stop and think how to do something – it was all second nature. I watched in awe… and more than a little humbled – not because I didn’t know as much as Brent, but because before that moment, I didn’t even know that I didn’t know – the worst kind of ignorance. That I thought I could do this by myself was the height of arrogance – and what a mess I would have made if I had. But Brent and his sons not only got me well on the way, and instructed me on the details I would need to handle, but literally saved my life (even helping carry the shingles, I was probably on the verge of a physical meltdown). I am indebted to three guys who were angels from God.

A (Not So) Quiet Week...

2008-05-02T12:12:00.002-05:00

Interesting week so far. Garrison Keillor often starts out, “It’s been a quiet week around Lake Wobegon….” Well, though nothing earth shattering, it’s been busy, and is about to get busier.

A man named Stephan, who has colon cancer was traveling from California to Tennessee by Amtrak last week (to go be with family), and made it as far as Glenwood Springs before his pain became so bad they had to have the ambulance meet him at the train station and take him to the local hospital to have surgery (gall bladder). His uncle called me from Tennessee and asked if I would visit him, and of course, I said yes. Stephan is a fascinating man, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know him. On Tuesday I ended up getting him out of the hospital and back down to the train station, just as the train was pulling into the station for a brief whistle stop. I had to talk them into not pulling out while he went to get his ticket, but we got him on and down the road. (Epilogue: I just spoke to him and he made it successfully to Tennessee and is with his family now.)

We had the Cascade College Chorus come to Glenwood on Wednesday as they make their end-of-the-year tour. They sang Wednesday night, we fed them and housed them, and then they headed down the road on Thursday morning. They arrived in 75 degrees, short sleeve weather, and the next morning woke up to new snow. (Epilogue: They were headed east and had to put chains on to get over Vail Pass, but after that said the driving was fine down to Longmont, CO, their next stop.)

This morning, I had 5,000 sq. ft. of shingles (150 bundles on 4 pallets) delivered to the house, and so starting this afternoon, I’m going to start carrying them up on the roof and nailing them down in my spare time. The job already looks bigger and longer than I had imagined when I decided I was going to roof the house by myself.

We have a youth group from Denver (the Southeast church in Aurora) coming to Glenwood tonight for a retreat, and they will be sleeping in the building and using it as a base of operations. It’s been fun to have the different groups come and meet different people. I’m finding that we have quite a “ministry” (of sorts) in providing a stopping off place for the youth and college groups who come to the Colorado mountains for retreats and recreation.

P.S. I just realized, this is post #200 - not much of a milestone for you daily bloggers, but a little bit of one for me (especially since I blogged out for 6 months). Hopefully the next 100 will come easier.

Memoirs?

2008-04-23T15:44:00.001-05:00

I often say I’m never surprised but frequently amazed. I’m sure I haven’t seen it all, but every now and then, one comes along that makes me shake my head in wonder. It was on the latest news from Hollywood – Miley Cyrus, all of 15 years old, is writing her memoir. Now, I’m sure she’s led a charmed life and has stories to tell, but a memoir? I even think it’s a little ridiculous to see 40 year olds writing their memoirs. I guess you have to cash in while your name is a hot item – by the time she is 25, no one may remember her or care what she has done in life. (To her credit, she says she is writing it to “let fans in on how important my relationship with my family is to me” and “to motivate mothers and daughters to build lifetimes of memories together and inspire kids around the world to live their dreams.")

It makes me wonder, though – at what point is your story worth telling? Would anything about my life be worth reading, or would it be required reading for I.A. (Insomniacs Anonymous)? I suspect most of us lead pretty routine lives (except for Greg England, of course – but how can you compete with that!), and most of the chapters would have the title “Ditto.” Even though I enjoy my life, I’m pretty sure no one else would think of it as a “can’t put it down” kind of book.

The only thing worth telling is where my story intersects with His story. Only then does my story take on any meaning or have a sense of plot to it. It is then that my story takes on epic proportions. When God’s story is the backdrop to the everyday excursions of a routine life, then you’ve got the makings of a classic.

The Thrill of the Read

2008-04-22T16:30:00.002-05:00

I’ve always been a reader. I remember my first trip to the city library on my 7th birthday when I got my very own library card. I checked out the limit of 7 books and by 4:30 I had finished them and begged my dad to take me back before the closing time of 5:00 so I could exchange them for more. And then my first trip up to the second floor where they had big people books, and I discovered the world of biographies and history, and I worked through every book on every shelf, devouring every book and wishing there were more. I remember my parents giving me Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy for Christmas one year, and I had finished it by New Year’s Day.

I love non-fiction and fiction alike. I have all of James Michener’s novels, and John Grisham’s , and Tom Clancy’s, and Frank Herbert’s. When my kids would have to have books for their required reading in school, I would get them when they were finished and I would read them also. Those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile will remember my move last June and the 30 boxes of books from my church office alone. I probably had another 10 boxes of books from my home library.

It’s just how I’m wired. I love to read. More than that, I guess I’m driven to read. I love learning and being introduced to new ideas and new worlds, I love being challenged and having my mind changed by the things I read. I love a book that is so well written I literally can’t put it down, and having to stay up and read until I can’t keep my eyes open any more. I will often read favorite books over again, just for the sheer joy of listening to a story well told. I have a list of books that I would like to read, and as I read blogs and articles and reviews of various things other people are reading, I will add to the list and then pick them off one at a time.

You may be like me, with an insatiable appetite for reading. It may not be your thing at all. I just can’t imagine what it would be like not to experience the thrill of getting a new book in the mail and opening it to those first enticing words, “It was a dark and stormy night….”

Springtime in the Rockies

2008-04-21T16:27:00.001-05:00

Out the window of my office at the church building I look across the valley and the Colorado river to the mountains that rise up above me. There is still snow on the highest peaks – some of our church members live up there and still have several feet of snow around their home. But down below, the snow is starting to melt, and slowly but surely spring is coming to the valley. We will still have several freezes and a few inches of snow, but it spring is here. The crocuses have come and gone, the daffodils and tulips are up, and just outside my window the tree is in full bud and leaves are bursting out.

I have enjoyed the winter. It’s been one of the snowiest anyone can remember, and I have loved being back where winter is really winter. I got little tired of shoveling snow (especially the three weeks back in January that I shoveled some new snow every day), but I still got that thrill every time I looked out the window in the morning and saw snow coming down.

But as much as I have enjoyed it, I’m ready for it to move on to spring. I had my regular tires rotated back on my truck, and stored the studded snow tires in my crawl space for a few months. I mowed the lawn for the first time last week and put on fertilizer to entice the grass back to its summer beauty. The temperatures have been getting up into the 70’s and we’ve been sitting out on the porch swing in the evenings watching our neighbors walk their dogs along our semi-country road.

We got our new ATV out for the first trip to Moab this weekend and it was incredible scenery and camping and riding. And we got to be with about 25 of our folks from church, so it was an extra great weekend. Friday afternoon, we had ridden up to Gemini Bridges, which is so far out in the boonies there isn’t cell phone coverage anywhere – but as we were sitting there eating lunch my cell phone rang and it was my daughter Alicia, calling from Germany, no less, to wish me a happy birthday! What a special gift that was.

Thoughts on 50-Eve

2008-04-17T16:03:00.003-05:00

Well, here I sit on 50-eve, thinking about the previous 50 years (the first four are still a little fuzzy), and thinking about what the coming year might hold. For some reason, this one has me a little rattled. 30 was nothing, 40 was actually kind of fun, but 50 sounds so... middle-aged. It's not so bad, though. I figure I have another good 40 years before I start getting old. And by then my mind will be gone and it will be someone else's problem. (As one bumper sticker said, "I want to live long enough to be a burden on my kids"!)

I'll have to admit, I've redefined a lot of the standards I once thought made up success. I've long since given up worrying about being on anybody's top-10 list for anything. I'm not nearly as concerned with what other people think about me (or even if they think about me). I have quit thinking I had to have all the answers, or have even come up with all the questions. It's a lot less about me, and a whole lot more about us. I'm more confident that God has a plan, and a lot less worried that he let me in on it. I always thought being married to my wife was great, now I know it is.

I'm glad I am who I am, where I am, with whom I am, and whose I am.

Milestones

2008-04-08T10:01:00.005-05:00

This week is just full of milestones. Yesterday, I received in the mail one of those items that ranks right up there with a notice from the IRS that you are being audited: my invitation to become an AARP member. Actually, somebody, back on my 30th birthday signed me up and I got my gold embossed card then, but this is the real thing. I turn 50 in a few days, so I guess there has to be some compensation for the pre-mature gray hair – when they ask if I want my senior discount, who am I to turn them down?

More important in the list of milestones is today – our daughter Alicia turns 21! She and her husband Josh live in Kaiserslautern, Germany, but she is back in the states (Nashville and Memphis) for a few days on a birthday trip to see some of her best friends. She has become a wonderful woman (no longer fitting into the category of “young” woman!), and it has been a joy to get to develop a relationship with her as an adult (though I guess she’ll always be my little girl). Alicia, have a wonderful time and a happy birthday. We love you!
Then:

Now:

Our son Tim and his wife Megan got a contract last night on selling their condo in Richardson, TX and have already signed a contract to buy a house in Plano. Wow! Ditto, on having a relationship with our son as an adult – what an absolute joy it is to watch you mature into a fine Christian man and husband. And Megan is a delight as our favorite daughter-in-law! We’re proud of both of you.

And I guess I ought to add a note on the latest addition to our family. My wife and I have always joked about middle-aged men either buying a little red sports car or having an affair – well here’s mine: A Polaris Sportsman 500EFI Touring ATV - a two rider for Diana and I to ride together through all the beautiful creation around here.

I'm Back?

2008-04-01T09:52:00.008-05:00

Oh, hello! I must have dozed off for a minute…. Oh my goodness, it’s April 1! And my last blog was… October 9… that means I haven’t blogged in almost 6 months. I’m sorry for the hiatus – life got in the way. Well, as I say in my blog forward above, life is a journey. And sometimes on a journey your car breaks down, or you decide to take a little detour, or you run out of gas. I’m not exactly sure how to describe the last six months, but my mind has been anywhere but blogging. That’s not to say I haven’t kept up with a great many of you through reading your blogs. I’ve read with great interest about the things that are happening and what you’ve been going through – and kept many of you in my prayers as you have dealt with difficult situations. But I just haven’t felt like writing. The move to Glenwood Springs has been wonderful, and we’ve been blessed with such a loving church family here – but it’s come with a pretty full schedule and lots of extra work being the lone minister on staff. And it’s been a difficult six months dealing with some pretty hard issues with our son, for whom the move has not been good or easy. We’ve been consumed as a family dealing with all of that, and in many ways, it’s just sucked the wind out of us, with not much left emotionally to pour into a blog.
Nevertheless, with the encouragement of many of you who have checked in on me (thanks!), and even my daughter Alicia, who is in Germany, who has never read my blog before – I am jumping back in and rejoining the blogging world. And for those of you who like the pictures – I’ve got them! We have done a bit of traveling around the area and experiencing the beauty of God’s creation. We’ve had the opportunity to go snowmobiling, ATVing, and camping. I’ve gone fly fishing and ice fishing. We’ve seen bear, elk, big horn sheep, deer, fox and wild turkey – all within a couple miles of our house – some in our front yard. This winter has been the snowiest in well over 20 years, and the worst in 50, according to the locals who have lived here awhile. We had at the peak, over 30 inches accumulated snow in our yard. It was so deep I had to climb up and shovel off our roof – it was hip deep. The piles of shoveled snow along our driveway were up to 6 feet (there was a three week stretch in January that I shoveled some new snow every day).
Last week was spring break for my wife, Diana, so we did a couple of fun things. On Monday we went snowmobiling with some folks from church. What a blast! We went up in an area called the Flattops just north of Glenwood. Even though spring has come down here in the valley and most of our snow has melted off, there was a packed snow base of anywhere from five to ten feet of snow up at ten thousand feet. And it was perfect snowmobiling weather. We went all over the trails – our guides were a couple from church – Lou and Liz – who actually stake out and groom the trails – they are big into the sport and we couldn’t have had better guides. We put about 50 miles on the machines that day, in between traveling the trails and then “playing” on the wide open spaces.
Then on Friday and Saturday we went with another group from church camping and ATVing near Moab, Utah. I know I’ve already posted some pictures from a previous trip, but the area we went into this time was even more spectacular – and the pictures just can’t capture the majesty of the landscape. It is truly beautiful. So, here are a few pictures from the weekend…

Gemini Arches from above and below (don't be fooled - you are looking 200 feet up)

Our house with 3 feet of snow

Diana on the snowmobile

Us in front of Mt. Sopris early in the snow season

Deep in the Mountain

2007-10-09T12:56:00.000-05:00

I know you've probably had enough of the pictures, but when I was transfering pictures of our Utah trip from my camera I found pictures I had taken from the Glenwood Caverns which are a wonderful set of caves up on Iron Mountain that towers above Glenwood on the north and is accessible by a gondola ride up the mountain(we bought season passes - it's just that good - there are also rides like a zip line and an alpine roller coaster).

Here are a couple of pictures from our trip into the caverns. These are from the most spectacular of the caverns:

Adventures in Utah

2007-10-08T14:33:00.000-05:00

We're still playing newcomers and tourists. This weekend we were invited by some friends at church to go camping and 4-wheeling with them in Utah. Our camp was at a place called Dewey bridge, about 30 miles north of Moab. During the Friday night and Saturday that we were there we were rained on, snowed on, blown away and finally saw sunshine. I would never have imagined the amazing sights we saw. We 4-wheeled up to a lookout point called Top-of-the World. It probably wasn't more than 8000 feet in elevation, but from that vantage point (if it hadn't been raining and snowing, you could probably have seen fifty miles in any direction. Here is a couple of pictures of me sitting on the point. The first is close up, then backing off, to show the rock I was sitting on. Then the third is what it looked like from over the edge. If you fell, you wouldn't touch ground for 2000 feet (but then you would touch down pretty hard!).

After lunch, and after the sun broke through, we went in the other direction over to the incredible rock formations and arches that stretch as far as the eye can see. Here are a couple of those:

We decided that 4-wheeling is the way to see the countryside up close and personal. It was an amazing weekend in God's beautiful creation.

Sold!!!

2007-09-27T10:32:00.000-05:00

Has it been two weeks? Sorry for the absence, life is just incredibly busy at the moment, and blogging has slipped. But some good news to announce: our house in Memphis, Tennessee is officially sold! The buyers signed their closing papers yesterday. We are now homeless, or should I say "house-less," or should I say (for the moment) mortgage-less. That will change in time, but for now it's nice not to have that hanging over our head. Thanks to everyone who has prayed for this to happen. We are so grateful for your concern and prayers on our behalf.

Update on "dept of mass confusion": I got the official notice from the bank "Dear Mr. Roberts, This document is provided to verify that Union Planters is now Regions Bank. If we can be of further assistance...." As you will recall, I needed them to verify that UP Bank is the same as Union Planters Bank (and spent 30 minutes trying to tell two different people that). So much for further assistance.

Oh, and I know you've missed seeing pictures of the beautiful mountains here. We took a Saturday last weekend and drove up to Aspen and Independence Pass - we are just coming to the peak of the fall foliage. Here's a couple:
On the road up above Aspen with the aspens beginning to turn yellow:

A couple from the summit of Independence Pass - looking across at the 14,000 footers that make up the Continental Divide - unfortunately it would take a panoramic camera to capture the majesty of it all - you can't get a sense of how beautiful it is with a single shot (but these are a little taste!):

Department of Mass Confusion

2007-09-12T15:06:00.000-05:00

Words that strike fear in the hearts of every American: Department of Motor Vehicles. Well, maybe not fear, but a pretty hefty case of loathing. Before you ever enter the hallowed halls of the County Court house you are run through a metal detector and then strip searched. You climb to the second floor and take a number and a seat. On your first trip through, you fail to realize you don’t have all of the required documentation (some of which they are making up as they go) until the clerk behind the counter sneers and gives you the “what an idiot” look and tells you to come back when you have it all. The second time around, you have the required documentation, but as she looks over the Tennessee title, she notes that the lien was under UP Bank, while the lien release was stamped Union Planters Bank. “Those aren’t the same” she says, “UP could stand for United People. You’ll need a one-and-same form.” I feebly object, “UP Bank has been Union Planters since before the Civil War. Everyone in the south knows that.” (Did I mention, UP Bank actually no longer exists – it was taken over by Regions Bank.) “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, you’ll have to come back when you have the proper documentation.”

Second round. Tag team with a mega-bank answering system. No I don’t know the party’s extension, I would just like a human voice. When I finally connected with a human voice, I decided the machine was friendlier. I explain my situation to the disinterested party on the other end, “All I need is a one-and-same form.” I’ll need your VIN #, your loan #, your SS#, your mother’s maiden name, three references and a credit card (I’m only making half of that up.) “All I need is a letter verifying that UP Bank is the same as Union Planters Bank.” “We can’t do that.” “You’re kidding, right.” “If it was that easy I’d just tell you over the phone – we have to send this through the loan department.” “I already have the lien release, and the clear title. I just need a letter fixing what your loan department screwed up in the first place.” “Sir, you can either give me the information…” “Okay, here goes…” She puts me on hold. 15 minutes later she comes back on “Mr. Roberts?” “Yes, I’m still here.” And then it happens, that sound your cell phone makes when it drops a call. She is gone. I quickly hit redial, and another voice answers. I ask if I could speak to the lady who was helping me seconds earlier. “Do you know her name?” “No, I didn’t catch it. Are there several people answering the phone there?” “There are hundreds.” “Oh, no. I guess I have to start all over… All I need is a one-and-same form.” “Yes sir, I’ll need your VIN #, your loan #.....”

What is Charlie Brown says when Lucy pulls the football away just as he’s about to kick it? “Arghhhhhhh!”

Will the real church speak up…

2007-09-10T15:19:00.000-05:00

Regardless of how many times I read it, the story of the church’s beginnings in Acts always leaves me sighing with a twinge of regret. The dependence on each other, the willingness to sacrifice and share with one another, the focus on the word and the body and the intensity of faith make me long to be a part of a church that isn’t shackled by scheduling conflicts and competing demands; where our zeal cannot be contained and our faith is front and center. It's not that I don't love the church I'm a part of, but I know we can be more.

I’m sure there were some who were complacent and half-hearted. (It’s not long before we read of Ananias and Sapphira.) But in Acts we see a church that could not be contained by geography or coercion. When threatened, they spoke (“For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard” 5:20). When attacked, they went (“Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went” 8:4). And it grew. Despite the persecution, despite the demands, despite the cost. People were drawn to Christ and to his church with reckless abandon.

And I wonder what it would take….

Faith?

2007-08-24T12:25:00.000-05:00

Hasn’t the media had a heyday with the newly discovered private letters of Mother Teresa? They are making her out to be a spiritual vacuum of doubt and uncertainty. And of course, if a seeming giant of faith such as Mother Teresa can have such doubts – that brings all people of faith under suspicion.

It is such a misunderstanding and misrepresentation of the nature of faith. A person of faith is not someone who has vanquished all doubts and conquered all uncertainty, but one who is learning to place those questions within a larger context of a “faith” full life. Faith is the paradigm in which we observe the world and deal with events and situations – it gives us a context in which to make sense of those millions of pieces of information that flood our lives. We don’t necessarily have answers for them all, or understand them – but we know what to do with them, without having to throw our lives into turmoil with every contradiction to what we already know to be true.

I wish I had answers for all my questions and evidence to quash all my doubts, but those are not necessary for me to hold firmly to faith in the absence of them. I can live with a certain amount of uncertainty and contradiction because they are merely an indictment of my limited understanding and ability to properly interpret the evidence. But my faith is not in my faith (or my intellect). My faith is in God, who though he may be beyond comprehension, is not beyond knowing. I can trust him even when I do not understand him.

One day faith will be unnecessary. All doubts will be erased when faith becomes sight. I long for that day, but in the meantime, I am quite secure in letting God be God.

All that having been said, I wish I had answers to give my friend Debbie, whose husband, and one of my best friends, Steve passed away yesterday. He had battled liver cancer for the past year, and it took a wonderful man of great faith at much too young an age. I will be traveling to Memphis next week to bury my friend and comfort his family. Yes, I wish I had answers – none of the pat ones seem to fit.

Fishing

2007-08-17T11:55:00.000-05:00

Finally got to go fishing yesterday. One of the elders at the church here, Wallace, took the day off from building houses to show me some of his favorite fishing spots, as well as some beautiful mountain scenery. Shortly after lunch it started to rain. We thought it was just a brief mountain shower, but it kept raining, and raining for the rest of the afternoon.

You would think that standing out in the pouring rain would ruin a fishing trip. But it didn't. (We did ask ourselves whether there wasn't something to the observation about someone who isn't smart enough to come in out of the rain!)

Before the rain showed up, though, we had a chance to do some sightseeing. We rode ATV's up a rugged mountain road south of Marble, Colorado along the Crystal River. We saw some beautiful and breathtaking sights. Several 14,000 foot mountain peaks, some mirror smooth lakes, three elk, along with a lunch of fresh trout cooked right out of the river made the rain a small inconvenience.

Here are a few of the things we stopped to see:

This is a reflection of the mountains on Beaver Lake.

One of the most photographed and painted places in Colorado is the Lost Horse Mill, an old stamp mill used in processing silver ore from the mid-1800's.

The Crystal River where we fished.

And Wallace frying just about the best trout and potatoes I've ever eaten.

Just Wondering

2007-08-14T16:03:00.000-05:00

I’m a wonderer. Maybe too much so. My wonderings often take me in uncomfortable and dangerous places. I guess it comes from always being curious about how things work and why things happen. My mother told me how as a four year old I announced that I wanted to know everything there was to know. I’ve obviously come up short. And the more I learn the less I seem to know. Seems counter-intuitive doesn’t it? Yet it is true, and I suspect unavoidable. In fact, if I keep learning, in a few short years I should arrive at a point where I know nothing at all.

Still, I am not deterred. I read, I ask, I watch, I inquire, I interview. There are so many things to learn! So many things that grab my interest, so many things I would like to try that it would take several lifetimes to fit them all in. And for all that, I am an expert in nothing. It would be nice to be a specialist – knowing more about one thing than anyone else. People would come to you with questions, ask you to come and speak about your subject, to write books and articles that would be quoted whenever the subject arose. But instead I remain broadly knowledgeable and specifically ignorant.

That’s not all bad. You don’t feel obligated to stay up on any one subject (as if that were possible anymore!); you don’t have to feel stupid when people ask you a question and you say, “I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out;” and above all you get to surprise people every now and then that you know anything about anything at all.

Are you a specialist, a generalist, or would you rather just not know nothin ‘bout nothin at all? I was just wondering.

Transparency

2007-08-08T15:53:00.000-05:00

It’s never easy to face your weaknesses honestly. Even when you admit them, you’re secretly hoping someone will speak up and contradict you. You want to believe that your flaws aren’t really as glaring as they look to you, that you mean more to the people around you than you really do.

It’s a fine line between humility and self-loathing, just as it is between self-esteem and arrogance. Coming to terms with the real you isn’t easy. And I suspect that more of us struggle with the former than the latter.

It’s an especially fine line in the pulpit. You want to be authentic and transparent in your own journey with God and struggles in life, but when you tread a little too near the line, it’s like the punch line in the joke, “I don’t believe I would have shared that!”

I try to share personal stories that help make biblical teachings real and relevant, but I often wonder whether people tire of hearing me talk about myself.

A couple of questions for you then:
If you are a preacher, how do you handle this issue in your preaching?
If you are a Christian in the pew, how much do want to know of your preacher’s issues and struggles, and at what point would you wish he hadn’t shared so much?

Let me know – what do you think?

Home, at last

2007-07-30T15:32:00.000-05:00

As if one move wasn't enough, in less than six weeks we have done it twice. This weekend, though, was the last for a very, very long time (I hope). The house we have moved into is an incredible house, built by an architect and builder, who has also been one of the elders of the church we now serve. It so happened that at about the time we were getting ready to move here to Glenwood Springs, they were getting ready to retire and move back to Knoxville, TN to be closer to a daughter and grandchildren. So, John and Audrey have graciously made available their house for us to live in and take care of with as much tender loving care as they have given it.

The best part of the house is the wrap around porch where we have enjoyed sitting and watching hummingbirds come and go with the beauty of Red Mountain as a backdrop. As for the inside of the house - wow! You'll just have to come and see it for yourself.

I have hinted in the past month that we would soon have room for everyone to come visit. We now have that room! Guest bedrooms are ready, and the welcome mat is out.

Experiencing God’s Love

2007-07-24T08:36:00.000-05:00

Preachers spend a lot of time telling churches – “love each other, serve each other, go out and spread the good news of God’s love to others” – and people listen politely, but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference in how they live and how the church looks to the people who come and visit. We talk about how the church is a place where everyone can experience God’s love, and they go away thinking “words are cheap.”

Why is it? Why do we have such a difficult time breaking through that barrier? How can people come to churches and not be swept away by the love of Christ that overflows out of Christians’ lives?

It might have something to do with the disparity that Jesus pointed out at Simon’s dinner party in Luke 7. Simon and his Pharisee friends were scandalized by the arrival of the prostitute who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair.

Jesus has a story and a question for them. Two loans – two debts forgiven – it’s a simple 3rd grade math problem. Who would love him more? Simon says, “The one with the greater debt cancelled.” A+ answer, Simon. But you flunked the test. I showed up and nobody greeted me at the door or offered me water to wash my feet or oil for my hair, but this woman comes in and washes my feet with her tears and anoints them with perfume, and hasn’t quit kissing them. You haven’t shown me common courtesy, but she has been extravagant with her outpouring of love. Let me do the math for you Simon – the one who has been forgiven much loves much, but the one who is forgiven little loves little.

Simon may be the expert on God’s love, but she has experienced God’s love. And the problem is that Simon doesn’t know that he doesn’t know. He’s preached a hundred sermons on God’s grace, but he’s never once thought that he needed it himself. People like Simon don’t need grace – they analyze it. Simon doesn’t think he has that much that needs forgiving – it’s not that he couldn’t be forgiven – he just never asked. And people like Simon who don’t think they need forgiveness are pretty stingy when it comes to extending it to others.

This woman has no doubt about her need for forgiveness – every single day of her life was lived with guilt and shame. And I don’t know when the moment was that she decided – maybe she had heard about the woman who was dragged before Jesus to be stoned but walked away forgiven – perhaps she was there when Jesus healed the woman with the flow of blood and said, “your sins are forgiven” – or saw the leper walk away clean. She knew where she needed to go, and what she needed to do. And when Jesus looked her in the eye and said, “Your sins are forgiven” her life was never the same. God’s love wasn’t an abstract theological concept, God’s love was like a river into which she had plunged and been swept away. She didn’t just sip out of the cup of God’s grace – she had picked up the punchbowl and gulped until her thirst was quenched. Simon didn’t even realize he was thirsty.

Let me tell you why I think some people have a tough time passing God’s love on to other people – it’s because they have never experienced God’s love for themselves. You can’t share what you don’t have. Our churches will never be a place where others can come and experience the extravagant love of God, until we ourselves have experienced it.

Here’s the bottom line – if you and I have not really explored the depths to which we ourselves have experienced God’s love, then we cannot possibly be the conduits through which God pours his love into the lives of others. If we have never really come to grips with how desperately in need of God’s grace we ourselves are, we will never be extravagant in dispensing it to others.

And that’s where we need to begin, by helping the people in our churches to see how much God loves them, and how grace is not just a commodity to be benevolently dispensed to others “out there” who need it, but something we ourselves desperately need.

Hollis

2007-07-23T09:16:00.000-05:00

I was hoping to include some pictures from our Saturday trip to Grand Junction, but taking pictures through a bug-splattered windshield just doesn’t translate into the beauty we saw. Next time (and it will be soon) we will stop the car and get out and zoom in. As Diana observed, you really need a panoramic camera to do justice to the scenery. Enormous mesas and rock formations that spread across the horizon and surround you, towering canopies of canyons with striations that make you gasp they are so beautiful.

All that was prelude and serendipity to the real reason for the trip. I have, in past blogs, mentioned the name Hollis Whitrock. He was the youth minister at the church where I came to Christ at the age of 16. He was literally my father in the faith. He wasn’t a fresh out of college, 20-something entertainment director kind of youth minister. He was a carpenter with a family who felt called by God to disciple teens. We never took a ski trip or outing to an amusement park, very few youth rallies, he didn’t run us around and make sure we were having a good time. He taught us to love the word and each other and reach out to our friends. I was the first convert in his youth group of six girls and one boy. By the time I went off to college two years later, the youth group was 80. There had been 75 baptisms in those two years, very few of which Hollis did. He inspired us teenagers to bring our friends, study with them and baptize them.

He especially invested himself in inspiring me to leadership. The church had bought an old dude ranch in the mountains to use as a Bible camp. Over those two years, Hollis and I would head out on a Friday afternoon and work through Saturday night building cabins and shower houses and bunk beds, turning it into a place where literally thousands of kids would come from across the United States and return home with their lives changed. And while we sawed boards and hammered nails we would talk. And Hollis grew my faith inch by inch and helped me see what I was capable of becoming.

I could only barely grasp as a teenage boy what he was doing in my life. It is only in looking back that I can see what a powerful force he was and how he and God were working together in my life. I have no doubt that he saw the two of them as partners in this project. He was a spiritual giant of a man who inspired me to be the kind of man he was.

After 30 years I wasn’t sure what I’d find. He’s been through some storms of his own. The world and Satan have a way of wearing you down over time. Age could have taken its toll. We walked into his shop, Rustic Elegance (more about that later), and except for a little less hair and most of that graying, and minus his signature red beard, he hadn’t changed a bit. That’s really not true. He had changed. His faith had matured (if I could have imagined that possible). His focus was more precise – only one thing mattered – bringing people to the Lord. His shop is really just a front for evangelism and discipleship. People were in and out throughout the afternoon – some of them were young men he has been discipling, who came in just to touch base with Hollis and tell him what was going on in their day. One of those men is a new Christian named Nate, who is also a carpenter, who himself has already led dozens of people to the Lord. Customers would come in to shop and would be invited to a Sunday night Bible study at the Whitrock’s house. After a couple of hours, his wife Hattie came and joined us and caught us up on the family. She is the mother hen who keeps her children and grandchildren all connected to them and to each other.

We sat and talked about what the Lord is doing in the church, and how the Lord is touching lives through the young married’s Bible study Hollis leads (three to four baptisms a month). His enthusiasm is infectious. He made me want to move to Grand Junction just to be a part of what he’s doing. But instead, I think I’ll bring it home with me.

First Guests

2007-07-19T08:39:00.000-05:00

Move to Colorado and they will come. Really, that’s what we were told! And we had our first takers yesterday.

Doug and Lesa Weaver and their two daughters Gennifer and Samantha, niece Mollee , and friend Kailey (daughter of other friends of ours, Shane and Kim Luttrell – Diana taught her in 1st grade!) arrived yesterday afternoon on Day 14 of their 17 day trip from Memphis to Mt. Rushmore to Yellowstone to Grand Tetons to Glenwood Springs to Memphis (see their travelogue ). Actually they were going to cut over from Jackson Hole, Wyoming to Cheyenne and then home, but we talked them into coming south to I-70 so they could see us (it didn’t hurt that they will be going through Denver and can stop at Casa Bonita for lunch).

Doug and Lesa have been wonderful friends to us from the moment we arrived in Memphis. They were the ones who always made VBS and Autumn Costume Carnival fun (at least it seemed fun even though they made you work till you dropped :-). They just have such an enthusiasm and excitement about whatever they do that you can’t help but want to get in on whatever they are working on.

They arrived about 3 in the afternoon and we showed them around Glenwood (mostly spending lots of money at Sioux Villa, a souvenir shop where our son works), then we ate some of the best Calzone around from Mancinelli’s, a little hole in the wall that makes their pizzas one at a time. After church last night we all went to Dairy Queen and ate blizzards. I think their little taste of Glenwood Springs convinced them they need to make this their destination for their next westward vacation.

We realized we’re going to have to get an itinerary for showing folks around the area. There are so many things to see and do, you have to know where to go before you get started. But by the time our next guests arrive, we will have it down to a fine art. We’d love for it to be you.

Together, forever

2007-07-18T08:20:00.000-05:00

Familiarity breeds contempt. Is it a rule or an observation? It is true – the longer you know someone the better you know them – as Paul Faulkner loves to say, “warts and all.”

Maybe that’s why marriages seem to fizzle out or explode after only a few years toward “till death do us part.” Maybe that’s why not many preachers last long enough to have double digit tenures with churches.

Longevity makes it difficult to hide your weaknesses, foibles, inadequacies, insecurities, bad habits, and downright ugliness from someone. After being together long enough, they get to see you as you really are, not as you wish you were or try to appear. And that’s when the divide in the highway appears.

When you get to the point that you know a person well enough to know how fallible they are you find out whether you are committed to the real them or you were in love with the image they projected.

And really, that’s where love goes through a metamorphosis. That’s where you quit loving someone in spite of their flaws, and those flaws endear them to you even more. That’s how marriages make it to 50 year anniversaries and endure the inevitable storms and struggles that come to every couple.

And yes, I realize that some couples stay married because they hate it less than they hate the alternatives, or they’re just too lazy to make changes of any kind – but those aren’t the kind of marriages I’m talking about. I’m talking about the couples who still hold hands when they sit in church, where they still look at each other with a little twinkle in their eye that communicates secrets only they share, who touch each other with tenderness and whose eyes widen with delight when their beloved walks in the room. It’s a wonderful place to be.

Do they ever get irritated with each other or speak a cross word? Well of course, they’re still human and don’t always get it right. But those moments are soon forgotten and swallowed up in the larger flow of joy that makes up the river of their life. They have discovered the power of forgiveness and have mastered the quality of forbearance.

Did they get to that place through luck or accident? No, though God’s grace certainly underlies the path. You arrive at that place because you make a decision to take that path. You choose that end of the journey long before you ever get there. And then you keep putting one foot in front of the other, side by side, together.

Change of Address

2007-07-16T16:43:00.000-05:00

We’re still in the moving mode around the Roberts house. We’ll be making another move across town at the end of the month, so we haven’t unpacked too many boxes, haven’t put pictures on the wall, most of what we have is still sitting down in the garage awaiting a permanent home.

But there is so much more to moving than just getting your possessions from one address to another. All of the mail that we receive – everything from bills to magazines to personal mail has to find its way through the postal system in some mysterious (and occasionally unreliable) process from previous address to our new address. Friends, relatives and businesses need to be notified of changes in address, phone numbers, email addresses, and bank account numbers. You have to get new drivers licenses, car tags and insurance id’s. You need to find new doctors and barbers and pharmacies and a place to get a good reuben sandwich.

What if you just moved and didn’t let anyone know? The only ones who could find you would be the IRS and God.

Funny thing about that. I’ve known folks who’ve just dropped off the face of the earth, and never left their house. They decide one day (and I’m sure it is at the end of a series of events) that they are leaving God and the church and not leaving a forwarding address. And calls and visits and concern are met with stone-faced resolve – “We just don’t want to talk about it.” The real story is hidden in the depths of their hearts where there are a dozen scars from wounds that never totally healed.

And we scratch our heads and wonder, “what happened?” Everything seemed fine, there was never a hint of a problem – just all of a sudden, you look around, and their seat is empty. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them in a while – I thought they were on vacation, but no, that was last month. Didn’t they say something about longer hours at work, their kids in sports, their house needed work?

But suddenly, they are gone, and the door is shut. It’s a sickening feeling. What could I have done? Was there something I should have noticed? The answer is usually yes. Very rarely does anyone leave without a cry for help. But it isn’t always obvious and it’s often misinterpreted.

But mostly, we’re too busy to notice, too wrapped up in our own concerns to pay attention to those subtle signs of distress. We don’t think it’s our business, we don’t want to meddle, we wouldn’t want to be pushy. And so we don’t ask, we let things ride, and they’re gone.

I guess that’s why the writer of the letter to the Hebrews wrote, “See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness” (Heb. 3:12-13).

We need to be connected and tuned in to one another’s frequencies. We need to pay attention to what’s going on in each other’s lives. We need to take the time to let each other in.

Hanging Lake

2007-07-13T10:03:00.000-05:00

We took yesterday off and explore some of the amazing things around this area. Someone had mentioned early on that we needed to see Hanging Lake, so we packed a lunch and off we went. It is only a 20 minute drive west up the canyon toward Vail, and you pull into a very nice picnic/rest area alongside a cement walking path that runs the length of the canyon. After walking a short distance on that, the signs direct you off trail and onto a path that takes you the one mile up to Hanging Lake. Now, a one mile walk wouldn’t be much of a trek, except that it also rises over a thousand feet in elevation and takes you up a mountain between towering rock cliffs on either side. You parallel a beautiful creek that comes down the mountainside and is fed by numerous other springs and rivulets that just seem to appear out of nowhere. About the time you are sure you are almost there, you come to the first trail indicator that says ½, and you realize it’s more of a walk than you thought it would be. But when you finally make it to the top you walk around a corner on to this:

It is the most spectacular sight imaginable (the picture doesn’t really do it justice) – it is breathtaking (literally!) But it makes the hike worth every step. Then as you are about to leave, you see a sign that points further up the mountain to Spouting Rock, and you think, I’ve had enough uphill walking for one day. But if you head down instead of up, you will miss one of the most amazing sights of the journey. It is a waterfall that comes right out of the side of the mountain. You can walk right up to it, and under it if you wish. It is a serendipity to letting curiosity urge you to walk a few more steps up the mountain:

Here are a few more pictures from the hike up and back down:

And finally, a picture of the canyon with the Colorado River running back down toward Glenwood Springs:

Communication

2007-07-12T08:50:00.000-05:00

Isn’t it interesting how variations in dialect fascinate us and frustrate us? I love to listen to people with a Scottish brough. It is musical to my ears. But at the same time, I have difficulty actually understanding half of what is said.

In our move, I have encountered nuances in dialect that have amused people. Having spent more than twenty years in Texas “ya’ll” has entered into my vocabulary. In Memphis, we were still southern enough that it didn’t raise any eyebrows, but here in Colorado, folks nearly laugh out loud when a “ya’ll” slips in.

In coming to our new church in Glenwood, I was given a laptop to use in my work. It came loaded with the latest MS Office 2007. Apart from the learning curve, I’ve enjoyed the new functions associated with Word and PowerPoint. I think as I become a bit more adept at using them, I will enjoy having all of the functions available in the tab format.

It has created a bit of a communication problem though. I sent out an email attachment the other day that nobody could open or read. I brought my PowerPoint presentation for my Sunday morning sermon that the guys in the booth couldn’t open. It seems that everyone else still has the older versions which can’t read the newer versions. It’s like I’m writing in a different language. Fortunately, there is a “save as” function that can translate the 2007 into earlier versions, but doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?

It would be like Jim McGuiggan (Irish) interpreted by Ian Fair (South African) interpreted by Paul Faulkner (Texan) so that I can understand it (if you don’t recognize all those names, they are each outstanding speakers in churches of Christ, who have distinctive voices and dialects, and I love to listen to each of them).

It has made me think of the way I say things in my sermons. Words and phrases that I use that make perfect sense to me, but to someone unfamiliar with the Bible or the church it would sound like a foreign language. It’s not that I need to “dumb down” what I say, but to make it accessible to everyone in words that communicate. What a shame it would be to use words like “salvation, reconciliation, sanctification, holiness” that are so powerful and crucial to understanding the gospel (another in-house word!) of Jesus, only to have them sound like garble to the very people who need them most.

If our desire is to impress, than we will continue to use 8-cylindar words in a 4-cylindar society, and remain unclear. Or we can communicate in language that speaks to the minds and hearts of the people who need the message most.

Pictures?

2007-07-10T14:53:00.000-05:00

You've asked for them - here is a picture looking down on Glenwood Springs from a hill up above the town. It is looking down the valley south as it heads toward Aspen, about 40 miles away.

These pictures are of the mountains that run east and west down valley toward Rifle:

Now come see them for yourself - your room will be waiting!

Yes, I'm alive and well (thanks for asking)

2007-07-06T16:31:00.000-05:00

I know so many of you are concerned for me in my absence. Perhaps a bear has eaten me (see below), maybe the elders in Glenwood have changed their mind (a possibility, though I've probably got a few more weeks of honeymoon), his computer has broken (new Dell laptop in front of me). The more likely explanation is that I've misplaced my priorities. I've let blogging fall behind unpacking boxes at home, unpacking boxes at office, writing sermons, meeting new people, sitting and staring at the beauty of the mountains out of my office window. All of which are poor excuses for not blogging, but alas, I have let all of them take higher priority than this blog. For that I am sorry, and will try to readjust those priorities ASAP (I promise!)
Until then, here is a picture of Mt. Sopris that looms on the horizon, just south of Glenwood Springs:

Timing

2007-06-27T08:17:00.000-05:00

Well, it arrived – the moving van, that is. Last Friday, after four delays, and being lost, and me having to go find them and lead them to our house they arrived at 1:30 in the afternoon. I’ll leave out the gory details, but let’s say a bit of altitude sickness slowed them down and they didn’t finish unloading our van until 10:30 that night. Only a half a page of broken and damaged items so far. But now we have our own beds to sleep on, which greatly improves one’s disposition.

The highlight of my week, though, was Friday morning as I stood on our front porch watching down the street for the moving van when I looked to my right, and coming around the corner of the house was a bear (the picture only slightly exaggerates his size and demeanor). Actually, he was only about 3 or 4 feet tall, but a bear is a bear. I hurriedly ran inside shouting for Diana, but by the time she got there he was gone. It was fascinating in a terrifying kind of way. A little bit of me wishes he would come back. The better sense side of me hopes that was a rare, chance encounter.

In planning when we would arrive in Glenwood Springs, our timing couldn’t have been better. Our house filled up with boxes on Friday and Vacation Bible School began Monday. We certainly didn’t want to miss out on VBS, so instead of unpacking boxes, we (all three of us) are at “Avalanche Ranch” singing “I’m in right out right up right down right happy all the time!” The boxes will wait.

For all of you who have been praying for us – thank you! Please don’t quit. This move is far from over (details later). And we still have a house in Memphis that MUST sell quickly – and with the Memphis housing market, only God will be able to pull that off.

We have new contact information, and for those of you who would be interested, my new email address is jfroberts9@gmail.com. We also have new phone numbers, and if you would like them, email me and I’ll pass them along as well as our new home address.

Blessings to all…

Checking in from Glenwood Springs

2007-06-21T12:50:00.000-05:00

We're here in Glenwood Springs. Have been since last Saturday. Our moving van however, will not be here until tomorrow. The arrival date started on last Saturday, then Tuesday, then Wednesday, now Friday. We've been living in an empty house on air mattresses and out of suitcases. We're not happy campers. And the air mattresses are getting really old. If we had been camping, we would have brought a lot more stuff with us. But apparently God thought we needed to learn more patience. I'm not sure it's working.

The good news is that Diana has a job! She interviewed with the principal of one of the elementary schools in Glenwood and was hired the next day as a Kindergarten teacher. So, one more piece of the puzzle is in place. Now, please pray that our house in Memphis sells quickly.

We have been enjoying the incredible beauty of the area. The mountains are gorgeous and our house is just a block from the Roaring Forks river. We go out each morning and drink coffee on the deck and just marvel at how beautiful it all is. God has truly blessed us.

100 Boxes of Books on the Floor...

2007-06-08T12:24:00.000-05:00

No, it wasn't 100 boxes, but it looks like it comes out to 28 boxes of books - I'm still working on the total boxes. So that would mean Brady is the winner with a guess of 30 (see the original post introducing the contest). Congratulations, Brady! (and no, I didn't have to throw away all my books on Revelation and the mid-East crisis.)

For the time being, the only award I can offer is the satisfaction of being right (which for most guys is a big deal). When I get settled, I may be able to be a bit more creative.

Unfortunately, I probably won't post again until I land in Glenwood Springs. So, in about a week and a half I'll show up again.

In the meantime, could I ask your prayers for a couple of things? We really need to sell our house here in Memphis (sooner rather than later), and Diana needs to find a teaching job in Glenwood (as soon as possible). Both of these are pretty crucial items - oh, yes - and a safe and non-eventful move starting Tuesday of next week. We're already exhausted from the packing, and driving four days cross country in two vehicles looks pretty daunting at the moment. Thanks for your prayers.

Up a Tree and Out on a Limb

2007-06-05T08:24:00.000-05:00

Here's Luke for this week. I realize that posting the whole thing is a bit much for those of you who like bite-size blogs that you can scan through quickly (that's the kind I like), but I can never decide where to break it or what to leave out, so read as much as you like and leave the rest for later (and be sure to come back!) Hopefully these posts on Luke have been a blessing to you. This will be the last one on Luke for a while. I'll be moving next week, and I'm going to get my feet on the ground at my new congregation with some other topics before I return to Luke and finish it off. Hopefully before that even happens I'll take some of you up on your encouragement to finish writing it and find someone to publish it. So, as a final post on Luke here is the story of Zacchaeus from Luke 19:

I know, I know, you can’t really tell the story of Zacchaeus without flannelgraph. And who can forget that classic song, “Zacchaeus was a wee little man…” But as compelling as the story is to children, it has a powerful effect on us adults. It appeals to a longing deep inside everyone of us to unconditionally and recklessly cut loose the world’s apron strings and follow Jesus with all of our heart. I often toy with the question of what it would really take and what it would really look like to say, “Jesus here I am – all of me – not a mite and not a moment would I withhold – I’m all yours, use me as you will.” That’s Zacchaeus. He has the heart I long to have, make the break I wish I could make. But that’s the end of the story.

Let’s back up for a moment and meet Zacchaeus B.C. (before Christ). What the Bible tells us and what we know about tax collectors paint a picture of a man whom none of us would ever think would be interested in Jesus. He had too much to lose, following Jesus would cost too much.

The Bible tells us that Zacchaeus was a short man. He must have been remarkably short for Luke to mention it – so much so that it was the one quality that would identify him most prominently. And that’s not to pick on short people, but I suspect that, coupled with knowing Zacchaeus’ occupation and the vehemence with which people viewed tax collectors, he probably wore a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder. I don’t suspect that he was a very congenial person, probably rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, and created an air of antagonism before a word was ever spoken. I’m just imagining, but I’ve met a Zacchaeus or two in my lifetime, and I imagine I’m right.

Zacchaeus is a tax collector. I’m sure I don’t need to say much about the attitude of the Jews toward tax collectors. They were despised and hated, not just because they dipped into people’s wallets, but that they did it for the Romans, the Jews’ oppressors. Tax collectors were Jews who were in league with the Romans, doing their dirty work. They were viewed as parasites by the Romans for feeding off the system, and with contempt by the Jews for being disloyal to their own people. And most tax collectors took advantage of the system by collecting more than required and skimming off the top. They were like loan sharks and debt collectors the way the preyed on the people and made their living off of peoples’ misfortune. They became rich by cheating and stealing and extortion. It’s no wonder that the very mention of tax collectors brought blood to peoples’ eyes.

And Zacchaeus is not just a tax collector, he’s the “chief tax collector.” And if tax collectors were hated, you can be sure the chief tax collector received an even more vicious loathing from the people with whom he came in contact.

He’s belittled because he’s short, he’s hated because he’s a tax collector. Zacchaeus was not a popular man in the town of Jericho.

And Jesus is coming through Jericho – on his way to Jerusalem. On the outskirts of town, Jesus had paused and healed a blind man. Everyone was buzzing about the miracle they had just seen. “A blind man receiving his sight. Maybe there really is something to all these rumors. Maybe Jesus really is the Messiah. There’s no doubt he is like no one we’ve ever seen.”

Now, even Zacchaeus has heard of Jesus, his reputation precedes him as keeping company with “tax collectors and sinners.” Zacchaeus isn’t sure even he would keep company with someone like himself if he wasn’t one. So, what kind of a man must this Jesus be? That would be worth shutting down the tax office for a couple of hours to see.

As he heads for main street, he realizes everyone else in town has had the same idea. The crowd is so thick he can hardly push his way through. Those who recognize him make it just a little more difficult, pushing and shoving him, poking him with their elbow in the ribs or the eye as he passes (“Oh, excuse me was that your eye? I am sooo sorry!”) And because he’s short, he can’t see a thing. Finally, he comes up with a plan. A sycamore tree stood at the far edge of town, beyond the mass of the crowd, and Jesus would have to pass right beneath it on his way out. He ran ahead of the crowd and shimmied up to the lowest branch and huffed and puffed his way to a seat where he could see what was going on. And then he waited.

It didn’t take long. The crowd came rolling forward like an ocean wave surrounding Jesus. Everyone was walking, but keeping their eyes on Jesus. Jesus was walking and talking as he went, asking questions, telling stories, challenging people to follow the Lord. The crowd approached the tree and surged around it, a mass of people flowing beneath him. Then all of a sudden, the crowd stopped. And Zacchaeus lost track of where Jesus was. He scooted this way and that, wiggled around and looked over his shoulder, but Jesus was no where to be found.

And then, he heard his name – “Zacchaeus!” It didn’t sound the way it usually sounded when people spoke his name – “Zacchaeus (spit).” It almost sounded… friendly. “Zacchaeus!” Who was calling his name? He looked around, and then he looked down. And there he was – Jesus, right beneath him – and he was calling his name! “Zacchaeus, come down immediately! I’m staying at your house today!”

I can only imagine what was running through Zacchaeus’ mind at that moment: How does he know my name? Why is he coming to my house? What would Jesus want with a man like me? What will I feed him? Whatever was going through his mind, he didn’t hesitate for a moment. Luke says, “So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.”

Now, I hope you realize what has just happened (as well as what didn’t happen). Jesus didn’t stop by the synagogue and visit with the rabbis. He didn’t stop by town hall and spend some time with the mayor and board of elders. All the places a good, respectable preacher who wanted to make a good impression would stop – he didn’t. Instead, he walks up to the most despised man in town and invites himself to dinner. And it did not go unnoticed. Look at vs. 7 – “All the people saw this and began to mutter, ‘He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.’”

I’m not sure what kind of a dinner Zacchaeus threw together. Who did he quickly invite? How many showed up? What did he serve? In fact, Luke skips right over all that – not a word about dinner, guests or anything.

When we get to vs. 8, dinner is over and something amazing is about to happen. You never know what’s going to happen when Jesus comes to dinner, but something always does. Somebody is healed, a prostitute washes his feet, a debate might break out, a parable might be told, someone always goes away mad. What could possibly happen at Zacchaeus’ house?

At the end of dinner, Zacchaeus stands up and makes an announcement: “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

You could have knocked them over with a feather. “You’re going to do what?!? Where did that come from?”

Where did it come from? As far as we know, there was no conversation like Jesus had with the people in ch. 9, who, when Jesus told them to follow him came up with all kinds of excuses. Nor like the rich young ruler in ch. 18, who lacked one thing, and when Jesus told him to sell everything he had, give it to the poor and follow him, went away very sad because he had great wealth. Or the crowds in ch. 14, to whom he said, “any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.”

Jesus was constantly challenging people to walk away from it all and follow him. But not a word of that conversation with Zacchaeus. This declaration came from inside Zacchaeus. He was ready for something to change, and all it took was Jesus’ presence and concern to bring it out.

Perhaps it was the empty life that Zacchaeus lived everyday. It’s not much of a life when your excitement comes from gouging people out of their life’s earnings. There couldn’t be a lot of fulfillment in having everyone in town run when they saw you coming and know they despised your very existence.

Maybe Jesus saw beneath the hard crusted veneer on the surface and saw the broken heart waiting to be released. Maybe just the fact that Jesus, of all people, would come to his house and show that God cared about people like him made the difference.

The thing is, you never know what it is that’s going to make the difference. Oh, Jesus knew. This meeting and this visit was not by chance – there was no happenstance meeting and circumstantial coincidences. Jesus knew when he walked into Jericho that afternoon that Zacchaeus would be in that tree and that the soil of his heart had already been prepared.

You and I might not have a clue that someone we’ve thought would never be interested in the good news has been waiting for us to say a word, express some interest, offer them an invitation to dinner. It is amazing the kind of people who would be interested in Jesus, but we’ll never give them a chance to find out.

We’d take one look at Zacchaeus and write him off as unapproachable and uninterested. People like that don’t follow Jesus. People like Zacchaeus don’t walk away from it all. And we’d be wrong. Just like we’re probably wrong about so many people we’ve dismissed with a judgmental flick of the wrist as never being interested in the gospel.

If we learn anything from this story, it is that there is nobody who should be summarily dismissed because we can’t imagine they would be interested in hearing about Jesus. Zacchaeus was the one man in Jericho nobody would have considered a second time, and yet he was the one man Jesus knew was ready to change his life.

And what a change. I don’t know if you were listening to what Zacchaeus just committed to. Read that again: “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

Half of his possessions to the poor. There is a good chance that Zacchaeus was probably the richest man in town. Jericho was a wealthy center of commerce. There were a lot of rich people who owed a lot of taxes. And Zacchaeus took a cut off everyone of them. Half of his possessions would be a sizeable amount by anyone’s standards. And he’s just going to give it away to the poor. And that would have been an amazing and noble thing – if he had stopped there. But he didn’t.

“…and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
And you know he had. That’s why tax collectors were so hated and despised. They were dishonest. Too many chances, too much freedom, too big an opportunity. And the culture supported it. It was expected, so why not? Everybody does it, so why should I be different? Yes, Zacchaeus had cheated a lot of people out of a lot of money, and he was determined, not just to make it right, but to make it more than right.

He wasn’t just going to give their money back, but four times the amount. You do the math. How much do you think Zacchaeus will have left after he’s done making restitution? There’s not going to be anything left. He’s walking away from it all.

The thing that the rich young ruler sadly would not do when Jesus asked him, Zacchaeus did joyfully out of his own conviction, just from being in the presence of Jesus. Jesus still has that kind of effect on people. People don’t need to be coerced or tricked into following Jesus. They don’t need Christianity painted as an easy road or a “have-it-your-way” proposition. I believe people still long to give themselves – all of themselves – to following Jesus. We just need to make the introduction.

What does Jesus think of Zacchaeus’ announcement? He is absolutely delighted. Nothing could have pleased him more. This isn’t just lip service Zacchaeus is offering – he is literally putting his money where his mouth is. “Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.’”

We have so theologized the words “saved” and “lost” that we forget their roots. Before they take on spiritual meaning, they take us to a desperate situation in which something precious has been lost and is in danger – a boat out on the sea in a storm, a sheep who has wandered off from the flock in the wilderness… a person who has wandered off from God. There are terrible and tragic consequences to being lost. And so a search is made, a rescue mission is launched, a shepherd leaves the 99 to go find the one lost sheep.

And when the sheep is found, when the ship is brought safely back to port – they have been “saved.” Zacchaeus needed rescuing. He had lost his way. He had wandered so far away that he no longer even remembered that he was a “son of Abraham.” He had lost sight of what it even looked like to be a child of God. And Jesus says, “Salvation has come” – he has found his way home.

And Jesus reminds us, that’s what it’s all about. “ The Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.” People are lost, not because they don’t know the right doctrine, but because they don’t know God. The right doctrine is important, but knowing God is everything.

And if Jesus’ mission was “to seek and save what is lost,” what do you suppose his church’s mission ought to be? Our mission isn’t going to be fulfilled sitting here in the safety and seclusion of these four walls – it is out there, on a rescue mission, seeking out the Zacchaeuses of this world who have wandered off and lost sight of God, and need to be brought back to him. God wants them home, just like at one time, he wanted us home. And now he has sent us out to seek them out and bring them back to him.

I Want to See

2007-05-29T08:20:00.000-05:00

Was yours a busy holiday weekend, or did you kick back and take it easy? With moving date two weeks away, you can guess about ours. Here's Luke, a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short. Two great passages to work with: Luke 18:31-43, the cluelessness of the disciples and a blind man who could really see. . . .

Not everyone who is blind has lost their sight. In these closing verses of chapter 18, Luke tells us first about the blindness of the disciples as they once again fail to “see” what Jesus tells them about their destination in Jerusalem. He immediately follows it with a story about a blind man whose faith brought about the sight he so desperately desired.

Let’s begin with the disciples:

Jesus took the Twelve aside and told them, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be handed over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him, spit on him, flog him and kill him. On the third day he will rise again.” The disciples did not understand any of this. Its meaning was hidden from them, and they did not know what he was talking about. (Luke 18:31-34)

Don’t forget that since chapter 9, when Luke told us that Jesus had set his face toward Jerusalem, Jesus has been singularly focused on his quickly approaching death. The cross is on the horizon and it occupies more and more of Jesus’ thoughts. On no less than six previous occasions (5:35; 9:22; 9:43-45; 12:50; 13:32-33; 17:25), Jesus has told his disciples of his approaching crucifixion, and each time his words were met with disbelief, confusion, or outright opposition. Every time Jesus broaches the subject anew, it is as if the thought has never crossed their minds before.

Here in chapter 18, he tells them again with such clarity and specificity that there is no possible way they can misunderstand, and yet they do. Luke says, “The disciples did not understand any of this.” To be fair, there may be more going on than simply ignorance, because Luke immediately follows that by saying, “Its meaning was hidden from them.”

This is an appointment Jesus cannot avoid and will not delay. Perhaps if his disciples were to grasp what he was saying, they would attempt to prevent him from reaching his destination. He cannot allow that. And so they remain blind. They cannot see what is so clearly in view.

Jesus, though surrounded by the crowds and accompanied by his disciples, walks this path alone. The Hebrews writer describes it in retrospect: “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2).

William Barclay says there are two kinds of courage. One occurs when, “suddenly and without warning a man is confronted with some emergency or crisis, and who unhesitatingly and even recklessly flings himself into it without time to think.” (Luke, p. 239). The other, even more amazing and admirable courage is the man who “sees the terrible situation looming ahead, and who knows that nothing short of flight can avoid it, and who go steadfastly and inflexibly on… Many a man is capable of the heroic action on the spur of the moment; it takes a man of supreme courage to go on to face something which haunts him for days ahead, and which, by turning back, he could escape” (Luke, pp. 239-240).

How do you do that? How could Jesus, knowing what pain and suffering lay ahead press forward with such resolute determination?

That’s not to say he didn’t have his moments. In the garden, he would beg the Father if there were any other way, to let this cup pass. And again the Hebrews writer tells us, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (Heb. 5:7). And yet, even in his struggle, there is the resolute, “yet not my will but thy will be done.”

How could he do it? Paul tells us it was because of his incredible, unconditional love. “Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:7-8). Paul says no human motivation could move Christ to do what he did. Only love could compel him to go to the cross for us.

When the soldiers arrested Jesus in the garden, the disciples fled and went into hiding. Three days later, when the women came back from the tomb with reports that Jesus body was gone, Luke writes, “they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense” (Luke 24:11).

Is it any wonder then, as Jesus, for the seventh time tells them that he will be killed and on the third day rise again, that the disciple scratch their heads and wonder what he’s talking about. They simply couldn’t see.

Interestingly then, Luke tells us of a real blind man:

As Jesus approached Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard the crowd going by, he asked what was happening. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” He called out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Those who led the way rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stopped and ordered the man to be brought to him. When he came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” “Lord, I want to see,” he replied. Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus, praising God. When all the people saw it, they also praised God. (Luke 18:35-43)

Blindness in first century Palestine was not just a physical disability – it dominated and severely affected every facet of life. It’s not just that this man (Mark tells us his surname was Bartimaeus) was without sight. It left him unable to function in society in any productive way. We’re not told whether he was born blind or lost his sight through an accident or disease. But at the point his sight was lost, he became a liability. He couldn’t work, he couldn’t contribute, he became a burden on his family, he was reduced to begging on the side of the road. Society didn’t make accommodations for disabilities. They didn’t have welfare and social security. They didn’t have seeing eye dogs and Braille and special buses and all the things we’ve come to expect in a society that goes to great lengths to accommodate persons with disabilities.

They became outcasts and cast-offs. They were the invisible people. You ignored them as they sat on the corner and cried out “Alms for the poor – help a poor blind man, please.” If you felt especially generous you dropped a coin in their bowl. If not, you felt no pangs of guilt because they didn’t count as real people. They suffered the abuse and scorn of society because they had nothing to offer. They were marginally tolerated, but in no way accommodated or provided for.

Which explains much about this day, when Jesus was passing through Jericho, still surrounded by the crowds – not able to move without bumping someone from side to side or step on someone’s heels ahead, and Bartimaeus sitting by the side of the road begging asked “What’s happening?” The rumble of the crowd had to be deafening. We’re not talking about a dozen guys here, we’re realistically talking hundreds if not thousands who are following his every step. Someone nearby said, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.”

Even Bartimaeus had heard of Jesus. He had never dreamed this moment would come. But he would not let this moment pass. Luke says, “He called out, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’” Those who were at the front of the procession told him to be quiet – a bit more of that protectiveness that Jesus so resented. But Bartimaeus was not to be deterred. Using an even more emphatic word, Luke says “he shouted all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’” Over the top of the roar of the crowd, Bartimaeus’ voice kept ringing out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

And as we have seen happen before, Jesus stopped, and when Jesus stopped the crowd stopped and suddenly everything grows quiet – except for Bartimaeus who continues shouting, “Jesus, Son of David…” And then he realizes that everything is quiet. Jesus motions those standing next to the blind man to lead him to him. In vs. 40, Luke writes, “When he came near, Jesus asked him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’”

What a question! Suppose Jesus asked it of you – what would you answer? What desire of your heart would you ask of Jesus? What concern would you pour out at his feet, knowing that it would be answered? Bartimaeus doesn’t hesitate. He has lived this moment over and over in his mind – if he ever had the opportunity, he would ask of Jesus, “Lord, I want to see.” He didn’t say it apologetically, or with a dip in his voice that said, “I don’t suppose it’s possible, but…” No – boldly and with conviction he says, “Lord, I want to see.”

We don’t even have read any further. We’ve already seen Jesus at work before – no doubt in my mind what his answer and what the result will be – yep, just as I thought: “Jesus said to him, ‘Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.’ Immediately he received his sight...”

Here’s a man who deserves nothing and expects everything. He has nothing to offer Jesus except his determined faith that Jesus can and will give him what he asks. Everybody else in the crowd is looking at this poor, blind beggar and thinking, “How pathetic!” Jesus looks at him and thinks, “How amazing! A man, though blind, who sees clearly enough to know what he wants, and from whom to ask it.” And so he says, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.”

We’ve been reading Luke’s Gospel long enough to catch on to something about Jesus. He looks for – he longs to find faith in people. Think with me about the healing and forgiveness that have taken place so far – just in Luke’s Gospel:
Lk 5:20 The four friends who lowered the paralytic through the roof of a house. “When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
Lk 7:9-10 The Centurion who came to Jesus asking him to heal his servant. “When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.”
Lk 7:50 The prostitute who came to the banquet and washed Jesus’ feet with her tears. “Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Lk 8:48 The woman with flow of blood who touched the hem of Jesus’ cloak as he passed by and was healed. “Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”
Lk 8:50 Jairus, who came begging Jesus to heal his daughter. “Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.”
Lk 17:19 The one leper from the ten who were healed (and he a Samaritan) who came back to thank him. “Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

And now in ch. 18, a blind man, given the chance of a lifetime asks to receive his sight, and Jesus says, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.”

Kind of makes you think again about what you ask Jesus for doesn’t it? Jesus longs to bless you, and what he is waiting for is that faith that you believe he can do it.

And what disappoints Jesus the most? When his disciples scratch their heads, look at him in confusion and say, “We don’t get it.” And he shakes his head and says, “Where is your faith?”

What is it that Jesus can’t do? What do you think Jesus won’t do? Do you really think God has retired and gotten out of the prayer answering business? That’s how we pray sometimes, and that’s certainly how we act. We pray as though we really don’t believe God has the time or interest to get around to us. Our prayers are weak and anemic, and we timidly apologize to God for taking up his time.

But that’s exactly what God has the time for – what he longs to do most – what he absolutely is most thrilled to see – bold, faithful prayers that God can and will do whatever we ask.

I want us to notice three more things before we leave this passage. The man receives his sight and three things happen. First, he “followed Jesus” – always an excellent response. Second, he started “praising God” – don’t ever forget that that’s what it’s all about. And third, when the crowd saw it, “they also praised God.” It’s amazing what an impact our faith can have on the people around us. When people see what God can do, when they see us respond in faith and praise – they start praising God. It’s contagious. Start spreading the word.

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p.s. Judy (aka Meowmix) asked me to pass along her apologies for not commenting on everyone's blogs lately. Seems, with her new computer at home she thought it would be a good idea to download some of that wonderful "free" shareware. Welcome in viruses! So, they have her shutdown - hopefully just temporarily.

Packing

2007-05-23T08:22:00.000-05:00

I hate moving. The last time we moved, I said if I ever had to do it again, I’d burn it all and start over. Now that I’m faced with it, I can’t throw anything away. I blame it on my father – he was a world class pack rat. After he died, when I cleaned out his garage he had saved eight gallon coffee cans full of used spark plugs – just in case. In his closet, he had every pair of pants he ever owned – all identical work khakis – fifty (50) pairs of pants in every condition from rags to brand new with the tags still on them. I am not quite that bad, but it’s in my DNA to save things just in case I might find a use for them. And of course it’s sacrilege to throw away a book (it’s hard enough throwing away magazines).

So here I am in my office packing books, most of which I’ve read, few of which I will probably ever use again, but which have become a part of my permanent entourage. I’ve already packed 15 boxes (18x12x12 – standard book boxes). I have made it approximately 3/7’s of the way through the books.

Here’s the contest: guess how many boxes of books I will end up with (books will be packed separate from everything else). The tie breaker will be how many total boxes I end up with in my office (we won’t even try to think about our house :-). The person who guesses closest to the number of book boxes (probably be a preacher who has moved way too many times) will receive. . . (prize TBA – I almost said one of my books, but we all know that’s not going to happen!)

Have fun guessing. Here’s a couple of pictures to help you estimate:

Entering the Kingdom

2007-05-21T08:17:00.000-05:00

Luke is back for a few weeks. I've missed it while I've been out traveling. Hopefully this passage in Luke 18:15-30 will challenge you as it has challenged me.

The disciples meant well. After all, Jesus was under constant demands for his time and attention. By this time, the crowds were constant – they followed him everywhere, except for those few moments when he would escape into the wilderness or up on a mountain to pray. But even then, they would be waiting for him when he returned.

One day they looked up and a group of parents with babies had surrounded Jesus wanting him to touch them and bless them. I don’t know if it just struck them wrong, but they all seemed to think at once, “Jesus doesn’t need this!” Of all the things he had to do and people he had to deal with, he didn’t need to be wasting his time blessing babies. Those parents could go to the synagogue or the Temple and have a priest do that. Jesus’ time was much too important to spend it on babies.

Oh, tell me that isn’t how you would have thought if you were there. We like babies and little children, but in the world of religion they don’t really count for much. Don’t misunderstand me! We have wonderfully furnished and staffed nurseries and toddler classes. We think they are so cute when we sing Jesus Loves Me and shove them down the hall to Children’s church. We’ll smile for a little while as they cry and carry on (but we expect their parents to get them out of here pretty quickly when they don’t settle down). You’ll never find the Pulpit minister down the hall teaching a toddler class – he needs to be in the auditorium teaching an adult class. He won’t be taking his turn in the nursery changing diapers – we expect him in the pulpit preaching to the adults.

But here Jesus is, arms loaded with babies and more on the way. The disciples rush up – “Wait one minute, everybody! Jesus doesn’t have time for babies – Out of here! Shoo! I’m sorry Jesus, we weren’t paying attention.” Suddenly a look of indignation comes over Jesus’ face – “No time for babies? That’s exactly who I have time for.”

There were so many things that the disciples didn’t understand about Jesus. And over and over again, the thing they seemed least to understand were his priorities. He always seemed to have time for those who didn’t count – the poor, the lame, the blind, the outcast – even women! And once more he leaves them scratching their heads when he says, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

It didn’t make any sense back then, and I’m not sure it makes any more sense today. We like to pretend we understand – well, of course babies are innocent and pure, and that makes perfect sense. But I think it’s the things about babies that we would never want to imitate and have no intention of becoming that Jesus considers the most important.

First, a child is absolutely DEPENDENT. Now, I know if you have a 2-year old you will immediately remind me that their second favorite phrase, right behind “NO!” is “Me do it!” And that is the tragedy of growing up – that not only do we become independent, but we lose any sense of our need for dependence on anyone for anything. We consider it a sign of weakness to need anything from anyone. We learn early to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps and make our own way.

We take that self-dependent attitude with us everywhere we go. We hate to ask for help when we need it because people will think less of us. Even at church, we act like we’ve got our act together (even when we don’t) and would never let others know we have needs, because, as we all know “the Lord helps those who help themselves.”

I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s not scripture, and it’s terrible theology. The Lord helps us through each other. He made us to need each other. Read Paul’s descriptions of the church as the body of Christ in 1 Cor. 12, Rom. 12, and Eph. 4, and see if God didn’t design us to function best when we are dependent upon each other. A little child is that perfect picture of someone who is content in his dependence. It is a cherished virtue in the kingdom of God.

A second quality, and really arm in arm with the first, is TRUST. A little child completely trusts. A little child innately assumes that her parents are going to lovingly care for her. She doesn’t lay awake at night worrying about where her next meal will come from or whether she’s going to have a good job when she grows up. She thinks her parents know everything, can do everything, and can protect her from anything. And she doesn’t have to be convinced of it. She just knows.

Isn’t that the kind of trust God wants us to have in him? An innate sense of his perfect love and provision for us. In the Sermon on the Mount, when Jesus said not to worry about what you will eat or drink or wear, isn’t that exactly what he is saying? Trust God. He had to tell us that, because he knows we do worry – we worry about everything – and we worry because we don’t trust. We’ve learned too many times from too many people not to trust. And so God keeps reminding us that he is faithful to his promises, even when people are not – he is faithful to us even when people betray us and abandon us – “The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deut. 31:8). Oh, to have the trust of a little child.

I think one other quality Jesus had in mind when he sat that child in their midst and said, this is what the kingdom is about, is FORGIVENESS. Children have to learn to hold grudges and seek revenge. When I look at little children there is a natural and genuine compassion and forgiveness that is built in to their natures. Watch children at play – they get in an argument or a scuffle and ten minutes later all is forgotten and they are back to being best friends. If we get crosswise with each other, I’ll remember it months from now and hold it against you for longer than that – longer than I even remember what we argued about.

Forgiveness is built into children. They get over hurts and insults quickly – they reconcile relationships without having to negotiate and make sure they’re not being taken advantage of. When a child forgives, he forgives completely – no record of wrongs, no reserve or regret. Jesus says, that’s what the kingdom of God is like.

And so Jesus say, “anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

So you see, it’s not a simple list of things to do or requirements to fulfill. Receiving and entering the kingdom of God is inherently something you are or are becoming. I don’t care if you were baptized in the right church with the right words – if you don’t receive the kingdom as a little child – in other words, if you aren’t becoming more trusting and dependent and forgiving – you can’t enter the kingdom of God.

Now, I’ll bet that puts a kink in some your theologies. You always assumed there were just five steps to salvation – hear, believe, repent, confess, and be baptized. I’ve never seen this listed in anybody’s steps of salvation – receive the kingdom like a little child. But there it is bold as day. And what it tells me is that salvation is a whole lot more than lists – it is lifestyle. If being baptized doesn’t change who you are, all you did was get wet. As Paul described it: “for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Gal. 3:27). We put that verse in the baptism column on our steps of things to do. Paul would put it in the transformed life column. In 2 Cor. 3:18, Paul tells us that the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives has the effect of changing us – “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” Does that negate or minimize baptism? No, it makes it all that much more important. Instead of a ritual to get out of the way – a requirement to check off the list – it truly becomes a new birth into a new life. As Paul also reminds us, “we are a new creation.”

I don’t know whether the next event happened in close proximity to this discussion about receiving the kingdom, but I have no doubt that it was not accidentally that Luke immediately tells us about a man who came to Jesus with a question about eternal life. And just so we’re on the same page here – I believe that “receiving/entering the kingdom of God” is synonymous with “inheriting eternal life.” In fact, at the end of this discussion Jesus talks about how hard it is for the rich “to enter the kingdom of God.” These two passages have everything to do with each other.

A certain ruler asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’’” “All these I have kept since I was a boy,” he said. When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was a man of great wealth.
Jesus looked at him and said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Those who heard this asked, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus replied, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.” Peter said to him, “We have left all we had to follow you!” “I tell you the truth,” Jesus said to them, “no one who has left home or wife or brothers or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God will fail to receive many times as much in this age and, in the age to come, eternal life” (Luke 18:18-30).

Luke introduces us to a man he calls a “ruler.” Matthew and Mark also tell his story, but he’s simply “a man.” All three say he was wealthy, and Matthew tells us he was young. And all three Gospel writers position the story immediately after the story of children coming to Jesus.

Without a doubt, this is a man who is used to being treated with respect and admiration. When he came asking Jesus “what must I do to inherit eternal life,” I think he expected Jesus to pat him on the back and say, “You? I wish everyone was as devoted to God as you are.” But the conversation doesn’t go quite as he expected.

Jesus begins by challenging his motives – he knows flattery when he hears it. The man addresses him as “Good teacher.” “Why do you call me good? No one is good – except God alone.” And even in that simple statement, we know much about Jesus. Just as back in Luke 5, when Jesus healed the paralyzed man and the Pharisees whispered among themselves, “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” This side of the cross we smile at the irony – Exactly! Who but God alone? Yes, Jesus is “good,” not because the man was flattering him, but because he is indeed God.

But Jesus goes right on to answer his question, or perhaps more accurately – to set the man up for the real answer. “You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.” It was the very answer the man had hoped for – he had been studying for the final all his life and he proudly says, “All these I have kept since I was a boy.”

Don’t misunderstand – this is a good man, an outstanding man. I don’t think he’s putting on airs. Though he is proud, it is with good reason – he has been a God-fearing, commandment-obeying person all his life. He was probably the Jerusalem Jaycee’s Man of the Year. He’s the kind of man we’d want here as a member. We’d make him an elder in a heartbeat. He’s a man who was admired and respected because he was a good man.

But that’s not what salvation is about. A man can be a good man without being a godly man. (You can’t be godly without being good, but you can be a good man without being committed to God.) And apparently this man wasn’t – he was a good old boy – a good neighbor, a good citizen, dependable, hard-working, keeps a big black leather family Bible on the coffee table where everyone can see it – but he was baptized when he was twelve and all he’s done since then is warmed a pew. His faith is frying pan shallow – and Jesus sees right through it. He’s kept a list of rules, but never surrendered his heart.

And so Jesus confronts the very thing that owns his heart – his great wealth. “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

You remember how, in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus had said you can’t serve two masters, God and Money? This man had tried, and money had won. You can only have one master, and this man’s master was money. At the end of the day, everything else in his life, his family, his priorities, even God, took a back seat to Money. Oh, he had kept up the appearances – no one would have ever suspected – no one except Jesus. But Jesus knew, and he knew that as long as his wealth was his master, God never could be, and he would miss heaven because of it.

The man had hoped to have his moment of glory when Jesus applauded his good life, but Jesus had brought him face to face with his spiritual bankruptcy. And now what does he do? He can choose to do what Jesus told him to do – sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Jesus. It’s what he should do. What would you do? You might be this rich young ruler whose heart is ruled by money. Your master might be something else – something that no one else would ever suspect – wealth may not have your heart, but your job might, your family might come first, your recreation or sports or hobby – whatever it is that claims highest priority and first love in your life. And Jesus looks at you and says, walk away from it and follow me.

What will you do? The rich young ruler knew what he needed to do, but he couldn’t – he wouldn’t. Wealth’s grip was too strong. And with a look of misery on his face he turned and walked away.

The disciples are watching all this take place, and their mouths are hanging open. They knew the man’s reputation, they would have all voted him most likely to make it into heaven on the first ballot. And as he walked away they asked, “Who then can be saved?”

If it was about steps to salvation, and keeping lists of rules, this man had done it all. And I’ll have to admit, it’s appealing. Give me a list any day. I like to know exactly what’s required, how much work for how much pay. It’s just easier to know right up front what is expected. It saves time and energy – it’s more efficient – it’s cut and dried. But it isn’t God.

After you’ve completed all the steps to salvation, you still have to answer the question, “is your heart surrendered to God?” If it isn’t, nothing else matters. Following Jesus costs you everything – your wealth, your relationships, your priorities, your life. When you enter the kingdom of God, the only thing you can take with you is a surrendered heart.

And in case you’re wondering – Jesus says it’s worth it.

What I have learned

2007-05-18T08:45:00.000-05:00

When you start wrapping up a ministry, you begin to reflect on things you’ve learned – pleasant and otherwise. The other day I had my last class with the Ladies Bible class (I teach the afternoon edition), and shared some of the things I’ve learned from them. Some folks at church you just seem to develop a closer and deeper affection for. These are my ladies. They have been some of my biggest supporters over the last eight years, not because I deserved it, but because they have taken me on as their project to grow up in the Lord. Let me pass along to you, the things I’ve learned from them:

1. To have an enthusiastic outlook on life.
2. To have a positive attitude about people.
3. To have an insatiable appetite for studying God’s Word.
4. To be patient with people with whom you disagree.
5. To be generous with your heart and generous with your money.
6. To never grow old in spirit, in spite of the number of candles on your birthday cake.
7. To always have an open mind to new ideas, and never be afraid to try something different.
8. To leave people glad they spent time with you, and better people for having known you.
9. To trust God even when it looks like you ought to take matters into your own hands.
10. To wake up each day excited that you have one more day to serve God and bless others, and are one day closer to heaven.

Thanks ladies (and Donald) for letting me be your teacher, your student and your friend!

The Wedding

2007-05-11T08:52:00.000-05:00

Finally, I’ve come up for air! It’s been a long week since returning home from the wedding. It’s hard to believe we now have a married son – and a wonderful daughter-in-law to boot! I suppose I really should pass along a couple of pictures from the wedding, so here they are:

It was an unbelievably beautiful week, and a picture perfect day for the wedding last Saturday. Family and friends came from as far away as Idaho, Colorado and Connecticut to Pensacola Beach, Florida. I got to see my brother Dave and his wife Cathy, and their 2 year old boy Jake, whom I had only previously seen in pictures. He kept everybody entertained! The wedding went off beautifully – no major chokeups on my part, though I had to swallow a couple of lumps as we were getting started. There have been so many proud moments as a father, but I think this one was at the very top. I’m so proud of the man my son, Tim has become, and of adding such a wonderful daughter to our family. Congratulations Tim and Megan!

Wedding Bells

2007-05-02T09:16:00.000-05:00

In what has been a month of traveling and busy-ness, we bring it to a conclusion by traveling to Pensacola Florida this week where we will attend the wedding of our son Tim to his bride-to-be, Megan. It will be a beach wedding at sunset on Saturday evening on Pensacola Beach. I will be officiating at the wedding, and I’ll have to admit, I’m not sure I’ll make it through without choking up. But I’ll do the best I can and try not to mess up the wedding.

It will be a special treat, as my brother Dave and his wife Cathy and their two year old son, Jake will be there from Meridian, Idaho. We haven’t been together in ten years and I’ve never seen Jake in person (although from his pictures he is a cute little guy), so we’re really looking forward to that.

We’re doing the rehearsal dinner long distance, so we’ve been gathering up and trying to take as much with us as we can. It will be a fairly small wedding party, so it won’t be a huge affair. Nevertheless, anytime you try to do something like this from anywhere but home, you end up forgetting something. But there is always Walmart…

The next time I write I’ll be a father-in-law. See you on the other side!

Glenwood Springs

2007-05-01T15:52:00.000-05:00

Many of you have been aware of and praying for our situation over the past several months. I want you to know that your and our prayers have been answered by God in a wonderful and marvelous way.

The Elders of the Glenwood Church of Christ in Glenwood Springs, Colorado have invited me to come as their new preaching minister and I have accepted. Our plans for moving are still being worked out, but we hope to be moved and working by the first of July. We’ll have to see how quickly everything comes together as we sell our house here and get things packed and ready to move.

The church in Glenwood Springs is a wonderful family of Christians that comes from thirty miles in every direction. They come from up canyon as far away as Eagle, and down canyon to Rifle, and even some that come from Aspen. The distances that people travel will certainly make it a challenge to get to know everyone, but the beauty of the mountains through which we will have to travel to get to their homes will make it worth the while.

Did I mention there are mountains? This is the scene that will be outside the window of my study at the church building. It really is even more spectacular in person.

I will be serving with seven Elders and an associate minister. There are some awesome opportunities for outreach as the area explodes with population growth. It seems everyone who vacations there dreams of living there, and so they can’t build houses fast enough. But what an opportunity that presents. I can hardly wait to get started.

Decisions

2007-04-27T14:21:00.001-05:00

I hate making decisions – especially big decisions. You never have all the information you need, you can’t possibly see all the possible consequences, when you weigh options they are never apples to apples, and of course the big one – you want to follow God’s will, but he never seems to plug in the neon sign that says “Choose this!”

So, you are left to step out in faith. Having weighed all the information and options, having considered as many consequences as you can, having prayed your knees threadbare, you take a step – in what you assume to be the direction God is leading you.

Yes, there is some risk to it. It is a little scary when that step could leave you stepping out into thin air with a vertical drop onto a very hard surface below. But there is great reward. Anytime we make a choice in faith, God blesses it. The simple act of living and walking by faith creates a dependence on him that grows us up in the right direction. Will there be occasional missteps and retractions? Probably. But the sheer trust that has been summoned to take the step has already made a difference. God can even bless the misstep if it is taken because of faith in him.

Wrestling with God

2007-04-25T09:17:00.000-05:00

Jacob found himself face to face with his worst fears. Twenty years had passed since he had robbed Esau of his birthright and fled. No amount of time or distance had dimmed the dread of what an encounter with his brother might bring. He had played the scenario over and over in his mind. It never ended well. Perhaps because, if the tables had been turned, his lust for revenge would only be satisfied with death – a painful death.

Twenty years he had lived life looking over his shoulder. Though he had traveled far away, they were from the same family. If Esau had wanted to, he would have known where to look for his deceptive twin.

Finally, the day had come, he couldn’t delay his return any longer. And so with two wives, a dozen children, servants, flocks and herds, Jacob frees himself from his servitude to Laban and heads for home. Expecting the worst, he divides his family and possessions into two groups, sending one ahead of the other toward the inevitable. He thought, “If Esau comes and attacks one group, the group that is left may escape” (Gen. 32:8).

As he watches the groups disappear over the horizon, certainly never to be seen again, Jacob goes to bed, but there will be no sleep tonight. A man shows up, unnamed, uninvited, for a wrestling match. All night long they struggled against each other, neither gaining the upper hand, neither giving in to defeat. As morning broke, this “man” touched Jacob’s hip and wrenched it out of its socket. Still Jacob did not give up, demanding that the “man” leave him with a blessing.

"The man asked, ‘What is your name?’ ‘Jacob,’ he answered. Then the man said, ‘Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome’" (32:27-28).

Later, Jacob, the “deceiver,” now Israel, one who “wrestled with God” names this place Peniel, saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared” (32:30).

With daybreak also comes his dreaded confrontation with Esau. Off in the distance he sees the dust of 400 fighting men bearing down for the slaughter. They stop short, and Esau descends from his mount. Jacob falls to the ground and steels himself for the vicious blow that will end his life. Instead, “Esau ran to meet Jacob and embraced him; he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. And they wept” (33:4).

It is more than he can fathom. Grace instead of justice, kindness instead of revenge, not what he deserved, but what he needed most. And almost as much as his encounter with the mysterious stranger in the night, this tearful reunion with his brother changed him forever.

Wrestling with God will do that. So will healing broken relationships.

Majestic Beauty

2007-04-24T14:23:00.000-05:00

Everybody has their preference when it comes to beauty in nature. Mine is mountains. The bigger and more majestic, the better. I can appreciate a beautiful sunset over the ocean and the change of colors in New England (and if you like that kind of thing – a sandstorm over Lubbock :-). But for sheer, breathtaking beauty, give me the mountains.

This last weekend, we visited Glenwood Springs, Colorado. As we flew in from Denver to Eagle, we passed over the Continental Divide and looked down on the 14,000 foot peaks from a little over 16,000 feet in altitude (it’s amazing how bumpy those mountains can make the plane ride!) This picture is what it looks like:

Glenwood Springs is in between Aspen and Vail, at the convergence of the Colorado and Crystal Rivers. The canyons are granite, rugged and towering. The mountains are snowcapped and awesome. There is a natural hot spring pool that is at least 2 acres across. The rivers are, in some areas serene and flowing gently, in others churning rapids, and gold-medal fishing waters in every direction. And if you liked to ski…

Imagine how tempting that would be if given the opportunity to live there….

The Friendly Skies

2007-04-19T15:12:00.000-05:00

I'm not a frequent flyer. I'm not sure I really like to fly - though I do a lot better now than in my early white-knuckle days. But in this last year I've flown more than in my entire life up until now. Last Friday, we had the delightful experience of circling D-FW in a holding pattern while tornadoes passed around and over the airport, closing it for nearly two hours. Tomorrow, we will be flying into Denver International, and then on to Vail. Snow would not be a good thing, though it's not out of the question for the forecast (this is not a skiing vacation).

So, into the friendly skies we go. It does beat the full two days it would take by car. And of course, who can say no to a well-timed bag of peanuts and half glass of ginger ale?

Fly high, land soft! I'll see you next week.

Here, for a moment

2007-04-18T08:16:00.000-05:00

It has been a busy and hectic week, with no signs of slowing down. We traveled to Ft. Worth last weekend, will travel to Glenwood Springs, Colorado this coming weekend. I'll preach in Mississippi the following Sunday, and finally, will be in Pensacola, Florida to officiate at my son's wedding on May 5.

What that means for this blog is that Luke is temporarily on hiatus. That doesn't mean I won't blog, but it will be on other matters.

I, like so many of you have felt numb since the events of Monday morning. Diana and I were sitting at the gate at D-FW airport waiting for our flight home when we heard the breaking news from Virginia Tech. And my first thought was "not again." Though we have become almost jaded to daily reports of suicide bombers and IED's in Iraq, when it happens at home we feel a renewed sense of urgency and personal violation. No matter that it was hundreds of miles away at a place I've never been, to people I've never met. It happened to me. The faces of the kids are my sons and daughter. The shooter was every disturbed young person that I walk past that could be capable of the same actions. Every one of us is affected, none of us are insulated from it.

Would that help could have changed things. But this morning I listened to interviews with a professor who offered and pleaded with the disturbed young man to take him to counseling two years ago, when he showed all the signs, but he refused. When she notified the authorities of his potential, there was nothing they could do until he acted on his disturbed thoughts. Laws didn't prevent him from purchasing guns. Campus regulations didn't stop him from possessing them. And you wonder, what could have been done or said that could have changed things?

The only thing I can imagine would have been a friend. He seemed not to have any. No one to encourage him, no one to talk to, no one who cared. Isolation seems often to lead to desperation. And desperation leads to this... again.

Why Jesus Came

2007-04-11T09:34:00.000-05:00

A couple more thoughts from N.T. Wright’s Simply Christian:

Christianity is about something that happened. Something that happened to Jesus of Nazareth. Something that happened through Jesus of Nazareth.
In other words, Christianity is not about a new moral teaching – as though we were morally clueless and in need of some fresh or clearer guidelines …
Christianity isn’t about Jesus offering a wonderful moral example, as though our principle need was to see what a life of utter love and devotion to God and to other people would look like, so that we could try to copy it …
Nor is Christianity about Jesus offering, demonstrating, or even accomplishing a new route by which people can ‘go to heaven when they die’ …
Finally, Christianity isn’t about giving the world fresh teaching about God himself …
[Though all of these are true and were accomplished]
Christianity is all about the belief that the living God, in fulfillment of his promises and as the climax of the story of Israel, has accomplished all this – the finding, the saving, the giving of new life – in Jesus. He has done it. (pp.91-92)

Not anything new, but a well worded reminder that Jesus was focused on his “mission” – and so should the church be “missional” in its identity and purpose as we reflect and continue to embody Jesus in this world.

____________

A great resource I have just come across: John Eldredge’s Epic. It is a DVD of a presentation he made before an audience, showing how the Bible is “story” in the great tradition of storytelling. He makes great use of modern stories to illustrate and describes how the Christian life is really about finding our place in the story. Eldredge is a master storyteller, and the presentation is wonderful. In addition to the uninterrupted version, it also comes with a segmented version and pdf documents for study guides and class facilitation. I started it last Wednesday night, and at the end of the video, everyone applauded. (And it’s only $20 at LifeWay – thanks to Keith Honeycutt for passing it along to me.)

Getting Into the Word

2007-04-10T15:11:00.000-05:00

In the practice of personal Bible study, I have developed a routine of asking (and answering) certain questions as I attempt to engage and assimilate the scriptures. Perhaps they would be of value to you:

· Is there a key verse in the passage?
· What is the main point of the passage?
· If I were to share this passage with a friend, what would I want him not to miss?

· What does the writer want me to know?
· What does the writer want me to do?
· What does the writer want me to change?

· Is there some strength the writer is confirming or encouraging?
· Is there some weakness the writer is challenging or rebuking?

· Does the writer describe something about Christ that I should imitate?
· Does the writer describe something in his own life that I should imitate?
· What is the modern application for my life?

We Had Hoped

2007-04-09T08:05:00.000-05:00

I hope your Easter was an amazing one. I've always loved the story about the British minister W.E. Sangster who, near the end of his life had lost most of his bodily functions to a muscular disease including his ability to speak. But he could still feebly hold a pen and write. And on Easter morning, just before his death, he wrote a letter to his daughter and said, "It is terrible to wake up on Easter morning and have no voice to shout, 'He is risen!' - but it would be still more terrible to have a voice and not want to shout."

Now, on to Mondays with Luke. I skipped ahead to Luke 24 for Easter morning. But I shall return...

I don’t know if you were watching TV that Sunday morning in April, 2003 when the special report broke into the programming to announce that seven American POW’s had been rescued that afternoon in Iraq.

Despite Geneva conventions, despite warnings from President Bush, despite prayers and hopes, everybody feared they were dead. Why would the Iraqis leave them alive? Then that Sunday afternoon Marines kicked in the door of a house in Tikrit and shouted, “If you’re American stand up!” And seven people in prison pajamas stood and suddenly all the worst fears of comrades and families were swept away as the news spread that those who were thought dead were really alive.

Imagine the emotional roller coaster the families of those soldiers had been on. The initial horror and grief of learning their sons and daughters had been captured – the agonizing pain of seeing their loved ones paraded before Iraqi TV as war trophies – the terrible uncertainty of their fate once they lost touch – and then the incredible joy when they learned the news of their rescue.

If we can imagine what these families have been through, perhaps we can also imagine the three days of emotion the disciples went through beginning early on a Friday morning.

It began with the late night arrest in the garden – as Roman soldiers and Jewish priests made a midnight raid on Gethsemane. The disciples scatter and watch in horror and grief as Jesus is arrested. Jesus is then paraded before a series of officials – first Annas, then Caiaphas, then to Pilate, on to Herod, back to Pilate. Then Pilate, yielding to the pressure of the Jews and the cries of the crowd, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” turns him over to the soldiers and Jesus is mocked, beaten, humiliated and lead through the streets of Jerusalem carrying the cross upon which he is to be crucified. And on that hill called Golgotha, Jesus is crucified and for six hours endures the humiliation of his enemies as he prays to the Father for their forgiveness. And then he gasps, “Into your hands I commit my spirit… It is finished.”

And the disciples know it is over. Despite all of their hopes and dreams. Despite their belief that he was the Son of God. Despite his talk of being raised on the third day – he was dead. They had seen it with their own eyes. The Roman soldiers had confirmed it by thrusting a spear into his side. Joseph and Nicodemus had taken the body down and laid it in a tomb and Roman soldiers sealed it and guarded it. It was over and nothing could change that.

Now, on the third day, the women had gone that morning to prepare Jesus’ body for burial and had found the tomb open and the body gone. They came back with reports of angels and gardeners and what if and could it be, but what are we to make of all that?

It’s Sunday afternoon… and two of the disciples were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem…

“They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.
He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”
They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?” “What things?” he asked.
“About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.”
He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”
They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, “It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.” Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread” (Luke 24:14-35).

I’ve always loved this story, because as Luke tells it, we know more than Cleopas and his friend do. We know it’s Jesus, while they walk blindly along not realizing the surprise that is coming. But we know – and we listen, anticipating that moment when suddenly their eyes are opened and his identity is revealed. There’s something about the story that just never grows old.

But it’s a story of faith reborn and joy rekindled that rings true for us. We live our lives with hope that has grown weary with the weight of worldly concerns. Our faith has lost its energy and vitality because for us the Savior is merely a figure long dead and entombed in history. But as we listen to this story we also find renewed hope and joy.

It began with a routine trip. Jesus was dead – life goes on – there is business to take care of and bills to pay. And so the trip takes them on the road to Emmaus. They walk and they begin to discuss the events of that week and in disbelief they wonder what went wrong. Suddenly another traveler joins the conversation, “What are you talking about?” “What do you mean, what are we talking about? Where are you from? Haven’t you heard the news?” And they begin to tell him what had happened with Jesus. And the most telling statement is in vs. 21 – “But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” They had hoped. Their expectations had been raised and their lives had been filled with purpose. They had left everything to follow him – and now this. “We had hoped, but now he is gone.”
Have you ever had your hopes raised? Put all your eggs in one basket? Put your faith in somebody – and then they let you down? That’s how they felt – “We had hoped.”

But then this mysterious traveler begins to fill them in on this Jesus whom they thought had let them down. And where did he start and what did he say? Some new revelation? Some piece of the puzzle of which they were unaware? No! Read vs. 27 – “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.”

He told them what they already knew. They knew the Scriptures, they had grown up on the prophecies. But they had been so caught up in the events of the week and the grief of the moment that they couldn’t see. And when it’s all over and they look back, what did they say? “They asked each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?’” (vs. 32).

In our search for spiritual renewal, something that will fire up our faith once again, we go searching for something new. We think we’ll find some new technique, some great revelation – but the truth is, if we are going to have our faith restored and our hope renewed it will be by going back to the word – letting God open our eyes once again to what he is doing, seeing Jesus through those ancient eyes of faith – letting the risen Lord reveal himself in a brand new way. It’s not going to be because you’ve discovered something brand new, but because you’ve been reminded of something very old.

And then in a very characteristic fashion, Jesus ate a meal with them. There they are resting from the day’s journey, refreshing themselves with a meal together, and then something very familiar happens. Jesus (whom they still have not recognized), leans over takes a loaf of bread and blesses it and breaks it and gives it to them. And in that very familiar action – no doubt they had experienced it many times before – “suddenly their eyes were opened and they recognized him.”

It is in the familiar that Jesus reveals himself – it is in the breaking of the bread that these disciples are shaken out of their grief and hopelessness.

Don’t you think that’s what this meal is about? Our faith is dulled, our eyes are weary from a week of dealing with the world – and Jesus, the host of the supper takes the bread and blesses it and breaks it and passes it among us – and in that very familiar action we are reminded – “That’s right! Jesus was crucified for my sins, and Jesus is risen from the dead. There is more to this life than living and dying!” And in this moment our hope is renewed and our faith is rekindled. And like Paul tells us, “whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.”

The Word and the Bread – it’s God’s weekly faith inoculation. As we take the bread and the cup in communion, may our eyes be opened and our hearts burn within us as we are reminded once again, he has risen!

There was an important final statement there in vss. 33-34, “They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, ‘It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.’”

With our eyes open and our hearts burning, it’s time to go back and proclaim the good news, “It is true! He has risen.” We live and work among people who see this day as just another excuse for a holiday, a day off work, a day at the lake. The resurrection doesn’t mean anything to them. If you were to ask them, they might say, “Sure, I believe in the resurrection. But it’s ancient history, it’s a peculiar Christian doctrine. It doesn’t affect me."

But if the resurrection is true, it means that we can live lives free from the stranglehold of sin – it means we can live lives freed from the fear of death – it means we can look forward to the day when we too will be raised from the grave to live with Jesus forever. That’s the good news – go out and share it.

Right Again

2007-04-04T09:20:00.000-05:00

I hate to be wrong, but I’m wrong. Every year I’m anxious to get our flowers and tomatoes planted so they’ll be up and growing earlier. Every year in March the temperatures climb up into the 70’s and 80’s and I’m convinced that it’s time to plant. But my wife holds to the old belief that you never plant until after Easter because there will always be one last cold snap that will get them if you do. Not this year I argued – last week it was into the upper 80’s and I was convinced we had jumped right into summer. Let’s get planting. No, she said, you just watch – it will get cold. No, it won’t, I said.

Last night the cold front blew through and brought our temperatures down into the 40’s and tonight it’s supposed to hit the 30’s. She’s right again. I’m glad I listened to her.

Heaven and Earth

2007-04-03T09:18:00.001-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned N.T. Wright’s book, Simply Christian, and began to share some of my favorite passages in it. One of the most helpful and thought provoking parts of this book is the structure behind it. He underlays, and constantly refers back to three distinct ways of looking at the relationship between heaven and earth.

Option One is to see them as basically synonymous – two ways of talking about the same thing. God is everywhere, not distinct from his creation but equal with his creation. He calls this “pantheism” – the belief that God is in everything, or with a subtle variation “panentheism” – that everything that exists is “within” God. This view sees God as the divine “force” that permeates everything. And our main obligation as humans is to get in touch with and in tune with the divinity within ourselves and within the world around us.

The second option sees heaven and earth as two distinctly separate places. There is God’s sphere and our sphere, separate but certainly not equal. God lives in his heaven a long ways away and has little or nothing directly to do with us. Humans should get used to being alone in the world. This view, “Deism” makes God a powerful, but impersonal being, who may be benevolent, but certainly not involved or concerned with our lives. We might respect him, but we’re not likely to love him. And if you’re on your own, you might as well, like the Epicureans, go for all the gusto you can get in life. And if your life is hard and filled with suffering, there’s always the next life where you can escape from all this.

Option Three sees heaven and earth as overlapping and interlocking in a number of ways. God not only created the world, but continues to be involved in sustaining and interjecting himself into the affairs of his people. And he has done that in specific and observable ways – in the his Presence (in the Tabernacle/Temple), the Torah, the Word, Wisdom, and Spirit. And as Wright develops each of these from a biblical perspective, he then focuses them in the person of Jesus, in whom each of these finds their ultimate manifestation. In this third option, heaven is not just a future reality, distant and inaccessible, but a present one, in which heaven is “near,” ready to break into our lives, showing itself in and around the edges of our daily existence. And if heaven is near and God really is accessible that makes all the difference in the world.

In Jesus’ Classroom

2007-04-02T08:13:00.000-05:00

Monday and Luke. What could be better? Thanks for dropping by. I hope you are blessed by the thoughts for the day…

What was it that Jesus’ disciples most commonly called him? They called him Master, Lord, but most often they called him “Teacher” or “Rabbi” – they were his disciples, his students. Everywhere they went, everything they did, every waking moment with Jesus was a classroom. Jesus was preparing them. Teaching, re-teaching, correcting, guiding, encouraging, explaining. Can you imagine trying to cram everything they needed to know into three short years of instruction?

I can only imagine the curriculum. It wasn’t just information that Jesus was imparting – it was life. The lessons they needed to learn involved more than simply adding facts to their knowledge, it was changing their lives. And so, Jesus taught them over and over, repeating and emphasizing and illustrating and demonstrating. And still there were times when they would scratch their heads and ask themselves, “what could this mean?” And how many times Jesus must have shaken his head and said, “O ye of little faith,” or on occasion, “Are you still so dull?”

Here at the beginning of chapter 17, we encounter three of those “lessons” that are brief, disconnected bits that seem grouped together by Luke as a kind of sampler of the teachings of Jesus that he taught his disciples on a variety of subjects. Let’s take them one at a time:

This first lesson deals with sin.
Jesus said to his disciples: “Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. So watch yourselves” (17:1-3).

Satan never takes a vacation. Peter describes him as a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. There will never be a lack of temptations to sin. If you never feel tempted to sin, it’s because you’ve already surrendered to Satan and the war is over – you just don’t know it. Have we been freed from sin, purchased from sin, died to sin, and been released from sin? Yes. Will we sin? Yes. John describes this paradox in 1 John – “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives. My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 1:7-2:2).

We have been victorious over sin, and yet sin continues to plague us. John writes so that we will not sin, but the fact is, we will sin. And God has anticipated and prepared for this by sending Jesus as the sacrifice for our sins – every one of them – as we continue to walk in the light – living in relationship with him.

But, Jesus says, there is a danger that is even greater than falling victim to Satan’s attacks – it is becoming an agent of Satan in pressing his attacks. You say, “I would never do that.” You wouldn’t?

Have you ever had a conversation in front of your children where you criticized the church and belittled the leaders and tore down its members? And if you’ve done it once, you’ve done it over and over. And you thought your kids weren’t listening. But they were – and you were indelibly molding their view of the church, and setting them up for the day when they will have to decide for themselves whether it is worth it to give their life to Christ and serve his church. And they are going to think back and wonder, “why would anybody waste their time on such a bunch of losers?” Score one for Satan.

Or have you left your Christianity hanging in your closet on Monday morning as you headed to work? And all week long, you lived just like everybody else. You used the same language, laughed at the same jokes, flirted with your co-workers, were dishonest with your clients, padded your expense report, fudged on your time sheet, stole company supplies. You just did what everybody else did. But you also made sure everybody knew what a good Christian you are, how you go to the right church and you believe the right doctrines – you even debated one of your co-workers about “once saved always saved” and thought how religious you were. And everybody at your office thinks, “if that’s what Christianity is about, I don’t want any part of it.” Make that two for Satan.

It’s one thing to sin, it’s another to cause someone else to sin. In fact, if you think the punishment for sin is bad, how bad will it be for those who help Satan do his work? Jesus says, “It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck.” Not a pleasant picture.

And then he says, “So watch yourselves” And I think it’s important that we understand exactly what he’s saying here. He’s not speaking to a bunch of individuals – “you watch yourself, you watch yourself… every person look out for himself.” He says watch yourselves – plural, collective, reciprocal. We watch out for each other. I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine. We give each other permission to confront us and rebuke us when we stray. I think the Hebrews writer had it right when he said: “See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness” (Heb. 3:12-13).

We are in this together. Satan is such a powerful enemy, and sin is such an ever-present danger, we need to have a plan for defense, and it takes an army fighting together to defeat him. Watch yourselves.

Lesson number two:
“If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him” (17:3-4).

This really is lesson one part b. As John said, it’s not if you sin, but when you sin. And what do you do when your brother sins? Well, you begin by rebuking him.

I’m not sure we have the right picture of rebuking. Your picture may be like mine – of a preacher in a black coat, with a big Bible, and a stern look, and a pointy finger scolding and condemning. That’s not what the Bible means by rebuking. Yes, we take sin seriously. Jesus did. He didn’t just shrug his shoulders and say, “Well, no one’s perfect.” He said, “Be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect.” Rather than lower the bar, he raises it. And sin is not just a social faux pas, or an error in judgment. Sin is a violation of our covenant relationship with God. Sin hurts and maims and kills. As Paul wrote in Romans 6:23, “The wages of sin is death.”

So, if Jesus takes sin seriously, so should we. But when we confront a brother or sister with sin – it is not with a superior, “How dare you” attitude. It is with a compassionate, “I’ve been there too” spirit of humility. Paul described it in Galatians 6:1 – “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

And when that brother or sister repents, what follows is just as important – forgiveness. And again, let’s make sure we understand forgiveness from God’s perspective. Forgiveness doesn’t dismiss sin as unimportant and flippantly say, “forget it, it’s nothing.” Instead, forgiveness takes into account the full depth of the offense and says “your slate is wiped clean by the blood of Jesus who took your sin upon himself.” Forgiveness doesn’t sweep sin under the rug, it deals with it completely and erases it from the record.

But Jesus raises a sticky situation. What if that brother sins again? And again, and again, and again. In fact, he commits the same sin – against you – seven times in a day, and seven times he says, “I repent.” (And if you, like Peter in Matt. 18, think seven times is over the top, Jesus said there, seventy times seven – that’s 490 times!) The point is, you are going to run out of patience long before God does. After two or three times, I’m going to be ready to smack my brother upside the head and say, quit that! But Jesus says, sin that is followed by repentance – one time, seven times, 490 times – should always be extended forgiveness.

And Jesus should know – hanging on the cross, looking down at the ones who nailed him there – in his dying words said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Paul says he did, and then he personalized it when he wrote, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Ephesians 4:32-5:2).

The only way you can extend forgiveness to a brother who sins against you is if you have first and fully dealt with, repented of, and experienced the forgiveness of God for your own sins. You can never extend forgiveness from a position of spiritual superiority, but only from your knees in humility as a fellow sinner who has been forgiven.

I suppose vs. 5 could be the apostles’ response to such an incredible demand: “Increase our faith!” for it would take faith to rise to that call to forgiveness. But more likely, vs. 5 brings us to a separate teaching of Jesus. On occasion, Jesus would teach in response to a request or a question:
· “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1).
· “Why do you speak in parables?” (Mt. 13:10).
· “Why couldn’t we drive out the demon?” (Mt. 17:19).
· “Who is the greatest in the kingdom?” (Mt. 18:1).
· “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (Jn. 9:2).
· “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6).

Here in vs. 5, the disciples exclaim, “Increase our faith!”
I can relate. How many times lately have I floundered around in confusion and doubt and wondered where God is in all of this. It’s not that I don’t believe in God, it’s not that I’m against his will. I would just like him to let me in on it. Give me a hint. Show me a sign. Lord, increase my faith!

But, what Jesus says in response changes everything – “He replied, ‘If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you’” (17:6). Jesus says, it’s not the size of your faith, it’s the size of your God that matters.

Back in 1961, J.B. Phillips wrote his classic little book, Your God Is Too Small. And in it he said our problem is that the God we say we can’t believe in and isn’t adequate to deal with our problems isn’t the God of the Bible. The inadequate God we reject isn’t God at all, but our own pathetic creation. The real God isn’t constrained by our limited imaginations or unrealistic expectations. He is powerful, majestic and sovereign.

The problem with our faith is that we make it all about us. My faith is too small, too weak. If only I were a stronger Christian, prayed more, studied more, understood more. If I could just find the right church, the right friends, the right schedule. (Just a little clue – it isn’t about you. You don’t need a bigger faith, you need a bigger God. Faith isn’t about whether you get your spiritual ducks in a row. Faith is about trusting God.)

The reason your life is so ineffective is that you think you are the one in control. If things are going well, you think it’s because you have things under control, and if things aren’t going well, you think it’s because you are a failure. But your problem really is that you’re not in control. You are trusting self, not God. It’s all about you.
That was precisely the apostle Paul’s struggle in 2 Cor. 12. Paul thought that to be effective, he needed to be strong and in control. It was a lesson God had to teach him the hard way – “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:7-10).

It was in 1 Cor. 15 that Paul wrestled with his failure and shame in persecuting the church. But he came to realize it wasn’t about him – “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me” (1 Cor. 15:10).

Jesus says the question about faith isn’t “how much?”, but “do you or don’t you?” Do you trust God, or don’t you trust God? All it takes is faith the size of a mustard seed to throw trees into the sea and push mountains into the ocean. If God is in control, then my concern isn’t about whether things seem to be going well or poorly, but how is God able to use me in the situation where I am? Faith is a decision to trust God wherever I am with whatever I am faced and bring glory to him.

This story was told to me by a brother from Africa who had seen this living example of faith. A new Christian in Uganda was so thrilled in his new life in Christ and so thankful to God for his salvation that when he heard a sermon on giving and tithing he immediately acted on it. He came to the preacher the next morning with a fish and said that he wanted to give it to the Lord as a tithe of his catch that day. The preacher asked, “where are the rest of the fish?” The fisherman smiled and said, “I haven’t caught them yet!”

Faith is giving God your first fish, with the conviction that he will provide the rest.

Welcome my friend

2007-03-28T16:07:00.000-05:00

I have an old friend who is a new face in the blog world. My fellow minister at Ross Road, and oft-times fishing buddy (see last Friday's blog - he's in the second picture in the reddish shirt), Keith Honeycutt has started a blog as a way to share his thoughts from life and the Word. He is calling it Be Still and Know and I think you will enjoy it. Give him a visit and say hi.

Send Lazarus

2007-03-26T09:01:00.000-05:00

It occurs to me that the length of these Monday posts is a bit too much. I could split them into sections and post a few paragraphs every day - or you could just read a few paragraphs every day. At any rate, here is Monday with Luke. This time out of Luke 16 and the story of the rich man and Lazarus.

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’ “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’ “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’ “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’ “‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” (Luke 16:19-31)

Have you been noticing in Luke’s Gospel how often Jesus gets into our wallets and bank accounts? This parable climaxes a chapter dealing with the use, misuse and abuse of money. In it we meet a man who could easily have been the brother of the rich fool we met back in chapter 12 – a man who was wealthy, arrogant, and selfish. Jesus tells us that he dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. It’s interesting that his decadence is over the top even for Jewish affluence. The purple and fine linen was characteristic of Roman upper crust. This man, a Jew himself, had adopted the lifestyle of their Roman oppressors – he fashioned himself after the Roman aristocracy and lived with a disdain for Jewish fashion and culture.

This merely compounded his attitude towards the poor, who we meet in a man named Lazarus. Now, I hope you’ll notice how unusual this story is. This is the only parable Jesus tells in which one of the characters has a name. In fact, some question whether this is a parable, or in actuality a real life situation. Either way, we will get the point. And what is even more telling is that it is the poor man’s name that we know, not the rich man’s – he remains anonymous. Isn’t it usually the other way round? We know Donald Trump, and Bill Gates and Sam Walton, but couldn’t tell you the name of a single homeless person we’ve ever met. And yet, it is Lazarus who stands out in this parable.

Lazarus has lived a hard life. Disease and infirmity had robbed him of his life and his livelihood. He could not work, he was banished from society, and relied on the generosity of passers-by to stave off starvation. And Lazarus sits and begs just outside the gate of the rich man, who is inside, perhaps less than 30 feet away, on the other side of a wall, living in luxury while Lazarus suffers.

The point is that the rich man could have done much to relieve the suffering of Lazarus – but even the bare minimum – letting him have the scraps off his table, he failed to do. In fact, the picture Jesus paints is of this rich man letting his dogs have the scraps and then turning them out on the street to do their business and they run over to lick Lazarus’ wounds. And they are so close he can smell the delicacies they have just eaten on their breath.

We might be tempted to think the rich man wasn’t even aware Lazarus was there or who he was, but a little later in the story, he will refer to him by name. He knows. He doesn’t care. His selfishness is compounded by his indifference. His heart is stone.

It was like this day after day, week after week, year after year. The rich man ignoring Lazarus’ plight, unaffected by his existence. Lazarus watching the rich man come and go, longing just for a scrap from his table, a word of compassion from his lips.

Jesus fast forwards their lives to the moment of their passing. Verse 22: “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried.” If Lazarus had a funeral at all, it was a pauper’s funeral with a burial in a mass grave. I can imagine the extravagant affair the rich man’s funeral must have been – every dignitary and city leader extolling his virtues and generosity. We get a sense even as Jesus tells the story that things are about to change.

The beggar in his passing is carried by angels to Abraham’s side (or your version may say to Abraham’s bosom.) It is a picture of a banquet. Remember the supper Jesus had with his disciples in the upper room and they reclined at table – no chairs, just pillows alongside a low set table, and they would stretch out to the side, laying, as it were, in one another’s chests. That is the picture of Lazarus, who during his earthly life was forced to beg for food, now at the banquet feast of God, the place of honor next to Abraham reserved for this humble man who had suffered for so long.

In contrast, Jesus says, the rich man died and was buried. The luxury with which he lived is placed in stark contrast with the severity of his death. No angels, no banquet, no place of honor. But it gets worse: “In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’”

Not only is his death severe, he enters an eternal existence which not only reverses his earthly fortunes, but compounds his misery. Notice, that now he recognizes Lazarus, whom in this life he conveniently ignored. Now, he is in agony, suffering in hell.

This is a fascinating picture of life after death. It presents two distinct locales, one a place of peace and comfort, the other a frightening place of fire and pain, called hell. You probably already know that the word translated hell is the Gk word “Gehenna”, the name of the garbage dump outside of Jerusalem where trash was burned, and a fire burns there constantly, and the stench of rottenness and smoke was suffocating. It was a graphic picture for Jesus’ listeners. They understood immediately the agony and misery of the rich man.

This isn’t intended to be a complete theology of the afterlife, and we can go to other descriptions that introduce other elements associated with this time from death to judgment to eternal residence. But in Jesus’ parable he condenses it all to show us this radical reversal of fortunes for these two individuals.

And in his agony, the rich man finally acknowledges the existence of Lazarus and begs Abraham for a favor from his former neighbor – a drop of water from the end of his finger to cool his tongue. He does not ask for a pardon or release, he doesn’t really ask for much – a drop of water – a brief second of relief from the burning. But Abraham’s answer is no. And it’s not because of a vindictive spirit or a pitiless heartlessness – it is an unalterable fact of this existence – verse 26, “And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to here.” He cannot come.

It is a cruel irony that in their lives on this earth, they existed less than 30 feet from each other, one in poverty, the other in affluence – the rich man could have walked out his front door and cared for Lazarus at any time. Now, beyond the grave, there is a chasm that separates the two, one in comfort, the other in agony, and the chasm is impassable.

The rich man’s thoughts turn next to his brothers. If his condition is unalterable, then perhaps he can redeem the fate of his family. And once again, he enlists the help of Lazarus. “Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.” The compassion he failed to show to Lazarus, now takes on an urgency when he thinks of his brothers.

And again, the irony is that the one to whom he failed to show compassion, becomes the one he begs to deliver compassion. Let him go and persuade them to change their ways and repent of their selfishness. (Are you seeing here, as we do in several of Jesus’ references to judgment and afterlife, that the issues raised are not the correctness of their doctrine, but the way they live their lives and treat other people?)

Wasn’t it in Matthew 25 that Jesus’ condemnation of those being sent to eternal punishment was on the basis of the fact that when they had seen him hungry and thirsty, a stranger and naked, sick and in prison that they had not cared for his needs? Or think of James’ definition of true religion. He doesn’t detail the marks of sound doctrine, but says keep a tight rein on your tongue, keep oneself from being polluted by the world and… “look after orphans and widows in their distress.” And how did Jesus say they will know you are his disciples? “If you have love for one another.” All the right doctrine and correct forms and organization in the world doesn’t substitute for a godly life and compassion for the needy.

And once again, Abraham denies the rich man’s request, not out of meanness or lack of love for the lost, but says, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.” Abraham points out that their hardness of heart is not due to a lack of information. You can’t read far in the OT without realizing that God has a heart for the poor and entrusts their care to his people.

The fact is, our sins are rarely out of ignorance. We know what we should do, but our hearts are hardened to it. It’s not because we just need a few more scriptures to convince us God means business. It’s not because we haven’t been told to give generously that we are selfish toward God.

But the rich man insists that all it would take to change their hearts and minds would be a visit from someone risen from the dead. And obviously it is only from this side of the empty tomb that we get the full impact of what Abraham says next. Listen to Abraham’s reply: “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

And we begin to realize that Jesus’ point really is about the Pharisees’ refusal to accept and receive the Son of God. And regardless of the miracles and healings and even the resurrection itself – if their hearts are hardened to the truth, they will not be convinced – even if he should rise from the dead. And they weren’t. It’s only this side of the resurrection that we grasp what Jesus was getting at. Even his closest disciples couldn’t understand that he was at that point talking about himself.

But let’s return to the surface issues that this story confronts. Luke, alone among the Gospel writers, includes this story. We’ve already seen Luke’s special attention given to the poor and the outcast. Luke has taken special care to show us the compassionate heart of Jesus for the needy.

And it is a concern that ought to confront the church and every individual Christian today as well. The disconnection and the division that continues to widen between the rich and the poor is something that ought to grip our hearts today. The literal physical needs of the poor ought to weigh heavy upon us. For instance:

It is estimated that there are 754,000 people who are homeless on any given night across this nation. In Memphis and Shelby County alone there are almost 1,900 people who are homeless. In Memphis, the latest statistics place 171,000 or 19.1% of the population below the poverty level. One out of every five people you will meet this week does not have enough to live on.

And you know what’s most disturbing? You probably have the same reaction I have. It’s their fault – they choose that life – get a job – it’s not my problem. But it is our problem. Yes, there are any number of reasons for poverty and homelessness. Some are self-induced, others are circumstances beyond their control. It’s funny though, Jesus doesn’t differentiate fault and say help those who didn’t bring it on themselves, be compassionate to those who really are victims, but disregard those who are lazy or irresponsible.

Jesus has a remarkable heart of compassion for the poor, the outcast, the dispossessed – all of them – whoever they are, however they got there. And so should we.

If we are followers of Jesus, we will have his heart for the poor. We can no longer allow the Lazaruses of this world to remain anonymous and invisible while we go about our business, comfortably unaware and unconcerned about their needs – feeding our dogs more and better food than most of them eat in a week.

I’m not sure what the answer is. I’m not sure the answer is in more programs and more shelters and more food banks and another application to fill out. I do know that it must begin with hearts that are touched by the needs of our neighbors who sometimes sit right outside our door. Yes, Jesus gets into our wallets and bank accounts, but first he has to get into our hearts.

A good day fishing is better than …

2007-03-23T09:19:00.000-05:00

You’ll notice I’m nowhere to be found on Thursdays. It has been my traditional day off for as long as I can remember. Whenever I’ve come in to a new staff situation, the coveted day off, Friday, was already taken by a more senior staff member, and I would get left-overs. Over the years though, I’ve come to enjoy Thursdays off even more than Fridays, though I could take it back if I wanted now that I’m as “senior” as they come.
After Wednesdays, which for me is usually a twelve hour work day, Thursday is a great un-wind day. I usually do errands and grocery shopping and house/yard maintenance, or just read. Occasionally I’ll find someone who can get away for a game of golf, but Thursdays don’t often coincide with anyone else’s schedule for time away. Yesterday it did.

My friends Keith and Scott decided we needed to go fishing. Scott had a prime target picked out – a private pond (in Texas it would be a “tank”) in Mississippi where a year ago he had caught more fish in 45 minutes than he had ever caught before. We headed down into the “motherland” (as another friend, Mike calls his beloved state). We drove over several different roads, mostly unpaved, before parking in a clearing in the trees and walking down to the pond which covered about two acres surrounded with pine and oak. Scott was the first to get a line in the water. Bam! A bass hit it on his first cast, and we knew it was the beginning of a great day. Either he was the only fish in the pond, or, after being released he went back and warned everyone else not to bite – but either way, that turned out to be the only catch, bite or nibble any of us had that day. After three hours (hope springs eternal), we gave it up and headed to lunch. Nevertheless, it was a great day fishing (not so good for catching) because it was a beautiful day in a beautiful spot with some good friends.

Notice in the pictures that we couldn’t come home empty handed, so we strung up our “catch” for the day.

Scripture in worship

2007-03-21T11:18:00.000-05:00

I’ve recently finished N.T. Wright’s book, Simply Christian. It was an excellent read, and I’ll share several of my favorite passages from time to time.

In his chapter on worship (ch. 11), he writes of the importance of scripture and the role scripture reading plays in opening our eyes to God’s nature and his glory.

Let me put it like this. The room I am sitting in at the moment has quite small windows. If I stand at the other side of the room, I can see only a little of what is outside-part of the house opposite, and a tiny bit of sky. But if I go up close to the window, I can see trees, fields, animals, the sea, the hills in the distance.
It sometimes feels as though two or three short biblical readings are rather like the windows seen from the other side of the room. We can’t see very much through them. But as we get to know the Bible better, we get closer to the windows (as it were), so that, without the windows having gotten any bigger, we can glimpse the entire sweep of the biblical countryside (pp. 150-151).

Of course, Wright’s point is to elevate the reading of scripture in worship, not to inform or remind or as a peg to hang a sermon on. It is “first and foremost, the central way of celebrating who God is and what he’s done.”

And I certainly agree with the importance of scripture in worship. But even as he removes it from preaching (though he does commend preaching from one or more of the readings), it seems to me that part of our role in preaching is to invite people to come up closer to the window so that they can see more of what is going on on the other side of the window. As we speak about the scripture, and talk about what we see through the window, others are enticed to come closer and look for themselves.

Finding Happiness?

2007-03-20T11:55:00.000-05:00

I get more junk e-mail every day than I could possibly process in a month. Luckily, most of it can be dispensed with with a single click of the “delete” key. But then there are the dozens of advertisements and e-letters, e-bulletins and e-zines that come rolling through that beckon me with offers of greater effectiveness and spirituality and information that I could very possibly use, if only I knew what to do with it and where to store it. I hurriedly scan them for anything that jumps out at me, reading the occasional article by a name that I happen to recognize, or with a title that catches my eye. But most of the time they end up in that great reservoir of things I intend to look at later, but two months later have forgotten they existed.

One of those interesting and informative e-letters is from “Man in the Mirror,” a company that provides resources for men’s ministry. And they usually have an excerpt of some book that looks interesting. Today’s had a list of 40 of “The Most Important Things to Know” about Ministering to Men, by Pat Morley.

And of course, always eager to add to my list of “most important” things, I read through it to find some great thoughts that bear saving and repeating. Here were some of my favorites:

· No man fails on purpose. No man wakes up in the morning and thinks, "Well, I guess I'll see what I can do today to irritate my wife, neglect my kids, and work too much." But they do.
· Many men are getting exactly what they want, only to find out it doesn't make them happy.
· The problem is not that men are failing to achieve their goals. They are. The problem is: they're the wrong goals.
· Some men have been inoculated against Jesus. An inoculation is a small dose of the real thing. They've heard just enough about Christ to think they've heard enough, found it irrelevant, and rejected it. In actuality, they've haven't "heard" it at all. Sadly, they have rejected the wrong thing.
· God will not force you to revere Him, but He will make it impossible for you to be happy unless you do.

That last one was the best. Being a strong proponent of free will, I’ve still always wondered that God didn’t use a little more coercion in getting people to do what’s best for them, instead of blundering their way through life, only to end in complete and eternal failure. And I guess this hints at the answer to that question. It’s as old as Augustine, and yet it captures the truth – God will let us do anything, but only one thing will bring us true happiness. Substitutes and counterfeits don’t come close.

Trusted with Much

2007-03-19T09:20:00.000-05:00

Thanks for your concern and inquiries on my week-long furlough - I've been "spring-breaking" it with my family (not out of the office, but only in enough to get essentials taken care of). But I'm back with thoughts on Jesus' parable of the dishonest manager in Luke 16. Thanks for stopping by. I'll be back tomorrow (I promise!)

Get ready to strain your brain a bit. In Luke 16 we come to one of the most difficult parables in the NT. It is difficult because the characters that we are introduced to are all rascals of one degree or another. There isn’t one who stands out as the hero worthy of emulation. And yet, out of this story, Jesus draws three lessons for us to learn. Let’s begin with the story:

“There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.’ The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg—I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’ So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ ‘Eight hundred gallons of olive oil,’ he replied. The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred.’ Then he asked the second, ‘And how much do you owe?’ ‘A thousand bushels of wheat,’ he replied. He told him, ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred.’ The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly.” (Luke 16:1-8)

Jesus introduces the manager of a wealthy business man. This manager is a steward who has been entrusted to manage the financial affairs of his master, but has failed miserably. In fact, Jesus uses the same word here that he used of the prodigal son back in ch. 15 – the word “squandered.” It suggests that he was dishonest, that he mismanaged, that he neglected his duties, and the result is that his master’s business is in a shambles. And word gets back to the master – “What is this I hear?” Accusations had been made and the master wants to get to the bottom of it.

Now, understand that the master isn’t interested in recovering the situation, or in giving the steward a second chance. The steward is finished – but before he leaves, the master wants an accounting of what is going on.

This gives the steward a window of opportunity. He does some soul-searching self-assessment and realizes he is in real trouble. He has had a great job with lucrative benefits and blown it. Nobody will hire him now and he’ll be reduced to digging ditches or begging on the street corner – neither of which sounds very appealing. And so he seizes the window of opportunity to change his future prospects.

As it is, he has just been a business manager, making loans, assessing interest, collecting debts. His master’s business clients would have looked upon him as little better than a tax collector and would cringe at seeing him coming. But the manager realizes that if he is going to have a chance at survival he is going to have to make some alliances. And so he sets to work.

The two visits in the story are just two among many he made that day. And in each of them he settles some accounts in a creative way. The first client owes the master 800 gallons of olive oil, and the second owes him 1000 bushels of wheat. (To give you a little perspective, the 800 gallons of olive oil represents the annual production of a very large olive grove, and the 1000 bushels would be the harvest from 100 acres of wheat.) These are not small farmers and family businesses, these are large-scale enterprises with substantial resources.

And what the manager does next makes us wonder all the more. He reduces the first debtor’s loan by half to 400 gallons, and the second debtor’s obligation by 20% to 800 bushels. Is he further compounding his dishonesty by cheating his master even more? Or is he, as most commentators suggest, paring down the debts by the amount of interest, or commission, or over-charge? And when we hear the reaction of the master, it suggests that the manager is not cheating the master, but himself. Perhaps eliminating his commission or reducing the debt to principal, he is at least bringing debts current that he has left untended by his negligence, and making the best of a bad situation.

Some question whether the master is so easily pleased because he has been unfair in charging usury rates on his loans – in clear violation of the law. And rather than have his own dishonesty exposed, he is relieved simply to have those accounts settled. At any rate, his reaction surprises us: “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly.”

Some question the eagerness of the debtors to pay up so quickly, becoming complicit in this apparent plot to cheat his master further. But then again, how can you pass up a bargain discount rate and clear up an overdue debt? You see, nobody in this story appears innocent.

Nevertheless, by the end of the day, accounts are settled, the debts are cleared and the manager turns over the books to his master, who begins thumbing through the pages, noting how he has suddenly gone from the verge of bankruptcy to a healthy profit margin. And he says, “Aren’t you clever?!” It doesn’t get him his job back, but it keeps the master from sending him to debtors prison.

And in the process, the manager has some new-found friends. He has ingratiated himself to his master’s clients by discounting their debts and saving them a ton of money. And their friendship would mean a job or good-will at some point in the future – at least food on the table and a roof over his head.

It’s an interesting enough story, but it is Jesus’ comment that leaves us scratching our heads: “For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.”

Is the master commending the manager’s dishonesty, or his shrewdness, or his swiftness to act? And what quality of the manager is Jesus suggesting that his followers should imitate?

Let’s step back from the story for a moment and look at it for what it is. Everyone of Jesus’ listeners could relate with somebody getting themselves in a tight situation by their own fault. I’ve known someone, you’ve known someone – it happens all the time. In this situation, the manager uses all his resources and ingenuity to solve his dilemma (that’s what Jesus means by the word “shrewd”). And when we look at the situation, as Jesus tells us to, from the perspective of a worldly person, we would certainly think, “way to go, you solved that problem!”

And the comparison Jesus makes is that worldly people are often more resourceful, using worldly means, than God’s people are using spiritual means. Now, that’s not at all to commend worldly means to solve our problems or find solutions, but to acknowledge that there are worldly people who get more fired up about making money or saving their own skin, than God’s people who get excited about the kingdom of God.

And he makes three applications, all dealing with money, all demonstrating that there are purposes, more ultimate and significant for how God’s people should view and use money.

1) “I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”

Jesus has already shown us that wealth isn’t always a blessing. The rich fool thought amassing wealth and selfishly hording it would make him happy. The prodigal son thought spending it on wild living would make him happy. They both found out how wrong they were.

Wealth can be a blessing though, when it is used to bless others. Jesus isn’t talking about gaining friends by just spreading the money around. That’s not real friendship – when the money ran out, the prodigal son found himself abandoned by his “friends”. In fact, I’ve seen money create animosity and hatred among relatives and friends who thought they were entitled to more than just a token gift. I’ve seen relationships broken and churches split when money became the focus. How do you gain friends with worldly wealth?

Take yourself out of the picture. Give in a way that no one knows that you are the one giving. Give anonymously and generously. Don’t give to get the praise or the benefit. Give in a way that points to God as the source of the gift. Take joy in the blessing that your money gives to others.

And you’re immediately going to ask, “how does that gain friends?” It depends on what kind of friends you’re trying to make. The manager made friends by cooking the books and ingratiating himself to people who could benefit him in this world. Jesus had something to say earlier in the Sermon on the Mount about the proper use of money and the kind of relationships that it can cultivate: Matthew 6:1-4, 19-21.

Whose friendship do you really desire? And if you desire an “eternal dwelling” where do you want to invest your money? That’s not to say you can buy your way into heaven, but that money that is used for God’s glory is treasure laid up in heaven, and gifts given in secret will be rewarded by our Father who sees in secret.

2) Jesus’ second principle of godly money management is in verses 10-12: “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?”

In contrast to the manager in the parable, God’s people are to be people of integrity. We can be trusted with a lot or a little, in secret or in public, audited once a week or once a decade. We are faithful to our husbands and wives whether they are present or absent. And our trustworthiness in the things of this world is indicative of our faithfulness in handling what Jesus calls “true riches” – in other words, the wealth of God’s kingdom, the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I’ve always been a little bit amazed that we separate out the two as if a person who isn’t honest in business, or isn’t faithful in relationships, can somehow be expected to act differently in the church. Someone is unethical or dishonest in business and we say, that’s just the way the world works, but we’re sure they’ll make a good leader in the church. But a person who does not act ethically in the world cannot be expected to act with integrity in the church. If they have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, they cannot be trusted with true riches.

And it’s a challenge to each of us to look at our own integrity and honesty. We would never break into someone’s home and steal, we wouldn’t embezzle money from our employer, but we fudge on our taxes and we pad our business expenses, and as they say, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” At church, we’re all smiles and handshakes and everybody thinks “what a great Christian man,” but at home we’re abusive to our spouse and children, and they become bitter towards a church that condones hypocrisy.

Integrity matters to God. If you aren’t honest in worldly things, you can’t be trusted with the things of his kingdom. If you aren’t a man of principle in the privacy of your home, you can’t be trusted to lead in the public life of the church.

3) The third principle challenges the loyalty of our hearts: “No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money” (vs. 13).

Jesus isn’t talking about moonlighting – having a regular job during the day, then mowing lawns on the weekends or delivering pizza at night. You can only understand what he says here in the context of slavery. The servant he speaks of is a slave – he is owned by a master – not just for forty hours a week, but every moment of every day. The slave owns nothing – everything belongs to the master. It was a physical impossibility to have two masters.

But Jesus isn’t talking about dividing our time between two jobs, he is talking about dividing our heart between two loves. We can’t hold our love for God and our love for Money in perfect tension, because they will always be at odds with each other – vying for attention, competing for loyalty. God will not play the game, he refuses to accept leftovers, always begging and hoping for a little bit more of you. If your heart belongs to money – what you earn, what you save, what you spend, what you own – it can never belong to God.

So, how do we focus our loyalties? Once again, as we wrestled with back in ch. 14, Jesus challenged his followers with the demands of discipleship and said, “any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.” We divest ourselves of ownership, and become stewards of what God entrusts to us to care for as his representative. While we continue to earn and spend and save, it changes everything. We are no longer owners of anything – everything belongs to God. My heart doesn’t hunger for more and more, as though meaning and purpose were going to be found in my possessions and my bank account. God is sovereign – he rules over everything in my life.

When we come to verse 14, we find that Jesus’ words have a point, and he drives that point into the heart of the Pharisees: “The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus. He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of men, but God knows your hearts. What is highly valued among men is detestable in God’s sight” (vss. 14-15).

On the outside, the Pharisees looked like they were all about God. They talked the right talk, they looked the part. But deep inside, their hearts belonged to another master. Money, and everything that goes with it – power, prestige, influence – ruled their lives.

Make no mistake – they didn’t hate Jesus because he violated the Sabbath or blasphemed God (those were their accusations). They hated him because he challenged and threatened what was dearest to them. Jesus knew their hearts and he knew that if money ruled their hearts, God never could.

Car Buying 101

2007-03-06T08:10:00.000-06:00

Just so we’re clear on this – I hate shopping for cars. I guess I should be more specific – what I hate is dealing with used car salesmen. They are deceptive, pushy and generally unscrupulous. Now, if you are a car salesman and are otherwise, I beg your forgiveness. I have yet to shop in your lot.

This last week my daughter decided the time had come to trade cars. If her 1994 Mazda Protégé with 135,000 miles was ever going to have any value as a trade-in, this was its last chance. So she asked me to go with her car shopping. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Three years ago, we found the Mazda for $4000 and were very pleased with it. This time, she thought $8000 would be a good figure to shoot for. Unfortunately, the $4000 cars of three years ago are now $10,000. Most of the dealerships we went to didn’t even have an $8000 car on the lot. The ones that did, you didn’t even want to take for a test drive. Ugh.

We had gone back to the salesman we had bought the Mazda from three years ago (and our previous 3 cars before that), and he had just the car we needed – a low mileage 2003 Civic they had just had traded in. It was $10,900, which he explained was almost $8000. (Apparently when you don’t do well in math, school administrators guide you into a career in used cars.) It was unimpressive over all, a stripped down model that smelled of Mrs. Winners chicken. The crowning blow though was when we opened the hood and found the dead rat in the engine compartment – big rat, small engine. It had obviously been there long enough that I questioned whether they had changed the oil any time in the last year. We went through the motions to see what kind of deal they would make – they wouldn’t – “This is a great car! After we clean it, you’ll never know there was a dead rat.”

There was a ray of sunshine though. At the Saturn dealership, we met a helpful saleslady, who apparently hadn’t gone through Used Car 101, and didn’t know she was supposed to be pushy. We found a 2002 Saturn L-300. It had 94,000 miles, but when they pulled the maintenance records (all of which had been done at that dealership) it had been meticulously maintained. And I don’t know how most Saturn dealerships are, but this one went all out making you feel like you were part of the Saturn “family” – free car washes, VIP service – it was impressive. We were sold. I should say, my daughter bought. Alicia is now the proud owner of a well used Saturn L-300, which had better provide her many years (at least 48 months according to GMAC) of outstanding driving pleasure.

If Anyone Comes to Me

2007-03-05T08:56:00.000-06:00

Cookies and milk, movies and popcorn, peas and carrots, Monday morning and Luke. . . somethings just go together. Thanks for stopping by. I'll be back tomorrrow. (Greg, I promise!)

“As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51).

Ever since that pivotal point in Luke 9, Jesus’ thoughts and footsteps were toward Jerusalem. The crowds thought Jesus was on his way to the throne. Jesus knew he was on his way to the cross.

It makes a difference, you know. Whether you are on your way to a coronation or a crucifixion. If you think that you are headed to a celebration or a funeral. It changes everything. One attracts the crowd, the other demands commitment.

It points out that one can be a follower of Jesus without being a disciple. There were those who were along for the show. Jesus was amazing, no doubt. The miracles, the healings, the teaching, the confrontations with the Pharisees and teachers – one never lacked for excitement following Jesus. Wouldn’t you have loved to see what Jesus would do or say next? That would keep me hanging around. Just to be around this man who everybody said would be the next king – who healed the sick and raised the dead and fed the multitude. You couldn’t help but admire him and be drawn to him. Join the crowd – literally.

And it was this crowd – the followers, the admirers, the well-wishers, to whom Jesus turns and speaks:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26-33)

It kind of takes your breath away doesn’t it? It almost sounds as if Jesus is trying to discourage them from following him. I don’t know that we can synch up the Gospels chronologically here, but you’ll remember that in the sixth chapter of John, Jesus challenged his followers and said, “unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no life in you.” And at that point, “many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him” (Jn 6:66).

I suspect the two teachings were in close proximity. He is closing in on Jerusalem, the moment of decision has come. Truthfully? I’m surprised anyone continued to follow him. With conditions like that who would be able to – who would want to? Jesus wondered a bit himself – you’ll remember there in John, after everyone else had left, Jesus asked the Twelve, “You do not want to leave too, do you?”

It would have been like William Travis there at the Alamo, drawing that line in the sand and calling for everyone who was willing to die for the cause to join him by crossing the line – and then to watch everybody shuffle their feet and Davy Crockett speak up saying, “well, sorry about that Billy, I think we’ll sit this one out.”

Jesus presents three incredible, non-negotiable requirements for the would-be disciple:
1) “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple” (vs. 26).
2) “And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (vs. 27).
3) “In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple” (vs. 33).

If we were crass, we could sum them up this way: give up everything, hate everyone, and die. Of course, Jesus is far from crass, but his demands must have sounded just about that blunt.

Let’s take a few moments and ask what Jesus is really challenging us with.

The first demand just sticks sideways in our ears doesn’t it? To use the word “hate” and talk about following Jesus in the same breath just doesn’t sound right. After all, Jesus tells us to love everyone – even our enemies. How can he then tell us to hate father, mother, wife, children, brothers and sisters, and even our own life?

We don’t want to put ourselves in the position of trying to explain away Jesus, as though he needed explaining away – “Well, he didn’t really mean what he said…” Jesus doesn’t need to be toned down or tuned out. But what could he possibly mean if he really does mean what he says?

You realize that words only have meaning in context. Words will often have a different nuance of meaning when used in different settings. When I use the word “love” to talk about ice cream, you understand that I mean something different than when I talk about “loving” my wife. It’s not that I’m playing with words or explaining something away, you just understand the difference in meaning. That’s the nature of language.

So when Jesus uses the word “hate” we have to take it in context. He certainly does not contradict himself, so if we begin with the understanding that he is not talking about having feelings of animosity and hostility, we will have to put it in the context of what he means by love. It might help to look at parallel passages in the other Gospels. In Matthew, Jesus essentially says the same thing, but with a different emphasis: “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me…” (Mt. 10:37). Well, that gives us a clue. We are not to love our father or mother or son or daughter more than we love Jesus. Is that what he means by hate? I believe so.

What Jesus is doing is putting relationships in contrast with each other. Without diminishing the love that we are, not only to feel, but to act upon toward our family (father, mother, wife, etc.), our love for Jesus must, in comparison make that love seem as nothing – as hatred. No relationship can challenge the priority of our relationship with Jesus. No bond can be allowed to compete with our loyalty to Jesus. And that happens, not by lessening our love for others, but by enlarging our love for Jesus.

What about his second demand? - “And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” There was no misunderstanding what Jesus said, though I imagine there was great confusion. There was no metaphorical sense of carrying a cross in that day. A cross was not a heavy burden to bear or a difficult circumstance to live through. A cross was an instrument of execution. They had seen condemned criminals carrying their crosses to their death. They had walked by Golgotha, just outside of Jerusalem, and seen men hanging there waiting for death to mercifully come and end their suffering. “Carry your cross” meant one thing, and one thing only – you will die a cruel and horrible death.

But like the previous demand, they couldn’t imagine how following Jesus would end up there. Jesus was on his way to the throne – they were going to be his adoring subjects. God’s rule was going to be proclaimed, Rome was going to be evicted, and they were finally going to experience peace. How could a cross fit into that picture?

You’ve bought a cup of coffee at McDonald’s or Starbucks and seen the warning on the outside: “Contents of cup are very hot.” It’s a warning that, simply because the outside of the cup feels cool to the touch, don’t make the mistake of assuming there is nothing dangerous about the contents. You might look at the outside of Christianity – the warm fellowship, the inspiring worship, the ministries of serving – and think, what’s not to love? But at the heart of Christianity is the cross. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “When Christ calls a man he bids him come and die.” That’s why Paul’s letters are filled with the language of dying.
Romans 6:3 “Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?”
Romans 6:6 “For we know that our old self was crucified with him ...”
Galatians 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me....”

When we become disciples of Christ, there is a death that takes place – a death to our sin, our will, our pride, our self. We have died and left no forwarding address to the old self. And so, as Paul writes in 2 Cor. 5:14-17 “For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”

And of course, when we understand it this side of the empty tomb, that all makes sense. But as they listened to Jesus’ demands that day on the way to Jerusalem, there was no mention of life on the other side of this equation. He wasn’t promising the new creation. Very starkly, he says take up your cross and follow me to your death.

The third demand comes on the other side of two parables, but let’s notice the demand first: “In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.”
Wouldn’t it be nice to wiggle around the edge of this one and explain that he really means that you need to be a generous giver? – that when you’ve taken care of paying all of your bills, plus put a little away for retirement and saved some for your vacation next summer, and of course there is that new set of golf clubs I’ve had my eye on, and don’t forget that we promised Billy we’d buy him a new car for his birthday, and you can’t expect me to go around in these old rags, I have to have some new clothes every now and then, and have you noticed what it costs to go out and eat at a restaurant these days? And don’t get me started on cell phones and cable TV and video games. But if there is anything left over, you can count on me dropping at least a $20 in the collection plate almost every Sunday.

Can you imagine trying to explain all that to Jesus and tell him you thought that was what he meant by “give up everything.”

Once again, we certainly need to understand his meaning in context. He’s not calling us to homelessness and poverty. But what he says is consistent with what he said back in Luke 12:15 “A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” And if they had a problem with that in the first century, you can be sure that we have an even more difficult time with that in the 21st century. I’ve got stuff, lots of stuff. You’ve got stuff, we’ve all got stuff. And for some of us – our stuff has us. It ties us to this world. It occupies our thoughts and attention and priorities. And when we’re not thinking about what we’ve got, we’re dreaming about getting more.

And the nature of our possessions is that they possess us. We hedge on following Jesus because we’re too busy working and earning and spending and owning. It isn’t for no reason that Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money” (Mt. 6:24).
So Jesus’ demand is straightforward, “give up everything.” But if he’s not calling us to homelessness and poverty, what is he demanding? When you become a disciple of Christ, you completely and permanently sign over the deed of everything you own to God. You retain ownership of none of it – not your house, not your car, not your couches or beds or your lawnmower, not your bank account or your IRA. It all belongs to God – 100%, nothing held back. Of course, God needs a steward to use and take care of all of these things for him – and so he entrusts them to your care and use. Not to possess, but to make use of them for God.

It changes how you view everything. If you are just the steward, the caretaker, you don’t worry so much about loaning it out, or sharing it, or giving it away, or even losing it. Possessions are intended to bless others, so you start asking questions like, “How would God have me use my car for him? How could my home be used to be a blessing to others? How much can I give back to the Lord and still have enough to live on?”

Possessing things ties us to the world and challenges our ability to wholeheartedly, unconditionally follow Jesus. So, we give it all up. If Jesus is Lord, he is Lord of everything – everything I am, everything I have. I will serve him with every last penny.

For just a moment, let’s look at those two parables tucked in the middle of these demands:

One man is building a tower, and another, this time a king, is going to war. Both are monumental undertakings, filled with cost and risk and consequences for failure.

The man building the tower has to first sit down and count the cost. The question isn’t, does he have enough to start, but does he have enough to see it through to completion? A half-built tower is a monument to failure. It is worse than never having started.

The king going to war needs to first sit down and count the cost. Not just does he have enough men to go to war, but does he have enough to win. And failure in this case involves the death and devastation of an army. And if he can’t, he goes and makes peace with his enemy.

The man or woman who would be a disciple of Christ must sit down and count the cost. And understand, counting the cost, isn’t deciding how involved you want to be, as though there were a scale from super-Christian down to occasional Sunday morning attendance. The cost is everything you have and are and the question is are you willing to give it? There is no half-way commitment, no part-time Christianity – it’s all or nothing. You don’t start out saying, “I’ll give it a try.” You don’t back out down the road saying, “I didn’t know what I was getting into.” Remember, becoming a disciple involves a funeral – you die to self. There is no return from that. Counting the cost involves looking at the sum of your life and committing it with a surrendered heart to Jesus – every sin from which you must be forgiven, every talent with which you would serve him – every strength, every weakness – every hour of every day you will live for Jesus. “If you would be my disciple,” Jesus says, “follow me wherever I lead you.”

Luke doesn’t tell us their response. I like what Peter said in John, though, when Jesus questioned their commitment – “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” What would compel a man to take up his cross and follow Jesus to his death? Nothing short of believing that you are following God himself. And we are.

Waiting

2007-02-28T08:50:00.000-06:00

Waiting. Hardly one of my favorite activities in life. And yet, it seems, more and more, to be one of my most frequent activities. I don’t like it. And it’s not that I’m an impatient man (OK, OK, a little!), but that so often the reason I’m waiting is on the slowness or thoughtlessness of others.

I’ll be driving down the highway and come to a complete stop behind a sea of cars all inching along. This goes on for a mile or so – and all the time cars will be flying up the road shoulder to cut in down the line. And when we get to the end of the bottleneck, I find out that it was because of all the people rushing ahead to cut in that we had to slow down in the first place. I don’t get road rage, just a little road rash, and I think very ugly thoughts about those rude drivers (mostly involving highway patrol officers and tickets).

Right now, I am waiting on God. And I hate to admit it, but I am getting a bit impatient. Not a whining are-we-there-yet kind of impatience, but the looking-at-your-watch-every-five-minutes kind of impatience. It’s like waiting on a friend who is always punctual, and he’s 20 minutes late for your appointment. You start to wonder if something happened, and you’re getting a little worried. There must be a good reason for his tardiness, but you just don’t know what it is – and you can hardly wait for him to get there so you can hear what happened and be assured that everything is all right.

It is distracting and disconcerting and distressing and a whole lot of other dis-’s. I am trying not to let it affect how I do my work and treat my family and friends. I am trying to keep life as normal and productive as I can. Yet, I realize that the edges are starting to fray a bit, and I find myself dwelling on things more than I should. I guess I should take my own advice that I often give other people (I give really good advice!) to spend more time in prayer, more time in the word, and listen for God’s voice in the midst of the storm.

Come to the Banquet

2007-02-26T08:13:00.000-06:00

There is such wonderful drama and imagery in Luke 14 as Jesus attends a banquet and makes use of the occasion to drive some points home. Here is Monday’s installment from Luke’s Gospel:

“One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched. There in front of him was a man suffering from dropsy. Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law,“Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” But they remained silent. So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him away. Then he asked them, “If one of you has a son or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?” And they had nothing to say” (Luke 14:1-6).

The last time a Pharisee had invited Jesus to a dinner at his house, a prostitute had crashed the party and made a scene. It had been an uncomfortable, embarrassing event… not for Jesus, but for Simon and the other Pharisees. After all, what do you say when Jesus tells a woman her sins are forgiven – knowing the kind of woman she was?

Nevertheless, another Pharisee has invited Jesus to yet another banquet, and Luke says “he was being carefully watched.” You’ll remember reading back in chapter 11, “…the Pharisees and the teachers of the law began to oppose him fiercely and to besiege him with questions, waiting to catch him in something he might say.” It would be a safe assumption that this dinner is a setup – a carefully orchestrated attempt to catch Jesus in some credibility destroying act and discredit him. Should I add that Luke tells us it was a Sabbath? What better day to catch Jesus stepping out of line, when there were already so many lines to step over?

And not surprisingly, they have invited a man with a disease. You’ll notice the disease is called “dropsy” (of course, Luke the physician is specific about the medical condition). It is actually a condition of extreme fluid retention to the point of seeping out of the pores, indicative of several advanced internal diseases and would not only be unsightly, but would render the person and anyone who came in contact with him unclean. They seat him across from Jesus…. and sit back and watch.

So Jesus asks them a question: “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” They don’t answer. He didn’t expect them to. He knew what their answer would be. And then, without any fanfare or commotion, Luke says, “So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him away.” (Please don’t miss that Jesus “takes hold” of this unclean man as he heals him.)

And before any of them can get a word out, he asks them a question, “If one of you has a son or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?” And once again, “they had nothing to say.”

Was it a difficult question? No. Would they have to think about their answer? Not at all. Every last one of them knew that if the situation arose on a Sabbath, they would throw their Sabbath regulations out the window to rescue their children, or even their livestock. When applying them to others, the regulations were rigid and unbendable. When applying them to themselves, there was ample wiggle room.

The Pharisees demonstrate time and again, that the rules are only for enforcing upon others, not on themselves. Their hypocrisy is so blatant and so heavy handed that, though the people fear them, they do not respect them. And so, when Jesus shows up, the reaction of the common people is, “the crowds were amazed at his teaching, because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law” (Mt. 7:28-29).

Here in the Pharisee’s house, though they bristled with indignation at his obvious affront to their Sabbath regulations, how could they argue with the truth of what he said? So, they sat silently.

As long as he has the floor, Jesus makes an observation. He had noticed how they were all jockeying for prime positions at the table (and I don’t mean getting the seat next to the platter of fried chicken, or sitting next to your best friend.) Who sat where at a banquet table was a big concern. The head of the table was where the important people sat – that was where the important discussions that made things happen took place. The further from the head you sat, the less important you were, and the less your opinion mattered.

Jesus tells them a parable:

“When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this man your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:8-11).

Pride is a dangerous thing. Arrogance and ambition are self-deceptive. We never see them in ourselves. When you see someone else puffed up with pride, it is obvious and obnoxious. When you yourself are puffed up, you see yourself as confident and self-assured. And the danger is that we put ourselves in situations like this man Jesus presents, who walks into the banquet hall and assumes that he is the most important person there. He confidently walks up to the head table and assumes the seat of honor is for him. He sits down, takes a sip out of his water glass, spreads his napkin on his lap and waits to be served.

Then the host walks in. He is surrounded by his friends and the real guest of honor. They approach the head table and stop… and stare. Sitting there is the man who presumed his own importance. The host, not in a whisper in his ear, or politely saying “excuse me,” loudly exclaims, “and who do you think you are?” And then in front of everybody, this presumptuous man has to stand and walk to the rear of the room and take his place among the other nobodies. You talk about humiliating. I think I would just keep walking right out the door.

But Jesus has a word of advice. The humble man, he says, will take the lowliest seat. He’ll take his place among the nobodies – not in a show of false-humility, but genuinely seeing himself for who he is – not with the expectation that he deserves a better seat, but simply enjoying being with the people among whom he is seated. What then can happen is that the host walks in, looks around, and spots you over in the corner. He walks over and says, “Friend, I was hoping you would come join me at the head table.” Then how are you going to feel?

I know – you’re going to tell me that the person who doesn’t promote himself will never go anywhere, that if we don’t have confidence in ourselves no one else will, that the person who tooteth not his own horn, the same shall not be tooted. I know – that’s the way the world works – but that’s not the way it is in God’s kingdom. No quality is more distasteful to God than arrogance, no sin incurs God’s anger more quickly than pride. The admonition in Proverbs, and repeated in James and 1 Peter, and peppered throughout the Gospels says “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up.”

If God hates pride, no other quality draws his pleasure more quickly than humility. The Lord speaks in the book of Isaiah, “This is the one I esteem: he who is humble and contrite in spirit, and trembles at my word” (Isa. 66:2). Then David, in a profound moment of brokenness says, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps. 51:17).

Humility was a quality lacking in the Pharisees. Their religious superiority had made them arrogant. When we get to Luke 18, Jesus will tell us about the Pharisee who stood praying next to a tax collector, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector.” They were blinded to their own sinfulness and to their own need for mercy and grace. They failed at God’s most basic test – who is in control of your life? They thought it was themselves.

And so, jockeying for position at the banquet table merely exposed the hearts of men who could never see further than their own reflection in the mirror.

Jesus also notices that the Pharisee who had invited him had selected his guest list carefully – those who were important and influential, those who supported his ideas and policies. And so, Jesus has a word for him: “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Arrogance is not just a matter of how you see yourself, it is how you treat others. It is human nature to like those who are like you, to include those who will profit you, to favor those who will support and promote and benefit you – those who can reciprocate your friendship and generosity. But when have you ever heard Jesus praise human nature? In fact, God’s nature is the very opposite. When you hold a banquet, instead of inviting the people who can benefit you, invite those who will never be able to pay you back or benefit you in any way – the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.

I guess we’re off the hook. We don’t hold that many banquets – we certainly don’t have guest lists that include the rich and powerful. So Jesus must not be talking to us. Or is he?

Look at the friends you hang around with. All pretty much like you aren’t they? When have you ever stopped to talk with a homeless person, how many of your friends don’t speak your language, have you ever spent time at the VA hospital with guys who don’t have an arm or a leg or a family?

It’s easy to insulate ourselves from the pain and the suffering in this world. And why do we do it? Pride. We’re better than them – we’ll be taken advantage of – they don’t have anything to offer. We would never say it that way – neither would most of the Pharisees. They didn’t see themselves as prideful – just that we live in different worlds. They would never describe themselves as arrogant – just that we don’t have anything in common. Pharisees and sinners – oil and water – they just don’t mix.

But isn’t that what the Gospel is about? Don’t we all stand on level ground at the foot of the cross? Are we so blind to think that Jesus’ words cease to be relevant when we apply them to ourselves? The Gospel says, we’re all sinners in need of a Savior. None of us belongs at the banquet save by the grace of God.

The Kingdom of God Is Like…

2007-02-19T13:50:00.000-06:00

If it's Monday, it's Luke. Here is this week's installment of Luke from 13:18-30:

We’re spoiled, really. With the likes of Dream Works and Pixar and Disney, and George Lucas and Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson there isn’t much left to the imagination. Computer graphics and special effects have made it possible to envision the impossible.

Do you want to know what Jerusalem looked like in the 1st century? Hollywood could depict it down to the scroll work on the door knobs leading into the Temple. Would you like to see what Goliath probably looked like just before David dropped him? You’ll think they had the cameras rolling as it happened. The magic of cinematography can take you from heaven to hell and make you believe they have been there with a camera crew. When your kid brings home a book to read for English, they don’t have to read it – it’s probably been made into a movie and they don’t even have to imagine the characters or the settings – it has been done for them.

We’re a little jaded to using our imaginations. Why bother, when we can see it in HD, wide-screen, surround sound, with buttered popcorn and a bucket of coke?

So, you’ll have to excuse Jesus if he goes old school and tells us to use our imaginations while he describes the kingdom of God. He doesn’t use descriptive language to paint a beautiful scene of unimaginable wonder, he uses stories about common people doing ordinary things. The kingdom of God, Jesus says, is like a net catching fish, a merchant looking for pearls, a treasure hidden in a field, a landowner hiring laborers, invitations to a wedding banquet, the innocence of a child. All of them are people and events that we can wrap our minds around and understand.

But in what way is the kingdom of God like these? Now, that’s another story. To say that the kingdom of God is like a merchant looking for pearls is only part of the picture – it’s an analogy, and analogies are useful but limited. Usually they provide one piece of the puzzle – one facet to understanding. Suppose my wife came up to you and said, “My husband is like a mule.” Would you immediately picture me covered with fur and sprouting long ears and braying? No, you would more likely understand that she is saying I’m stubborn. If I was to tell you my wife is like an angel, would you picture her with wings and living in heaven? No, you would assume I meant she is sweet and kind. So, when Jesus says the kingdom of God is like a merchant searching for pearls, you wouldn’t think the kingdom is filled with salesmen going around looking for expensive merchandise. You would have to figure out from the story what part of the reality he is trying to capture in his analogy.

When we come to Luke 13, Jesus uses two of these kingdom analogies. . . .

“What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it to? It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air perched in its branches.” Again he asked, “What shall I compare the kingdom of God to? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough” (Luke 13:18-21).

. . . . And so what does a mustard seed and a packet of yeast teach us about the kingdom of God? There is one point that Jesus is wanting to make. They were expecting God’s kingdom to come in big and powerful and intimidating forms – they looked for it in a royal king or a conquering general. They expected it would be led by the priests and the religious leaders. They thought it would start in the Temple with heralds making announcements and celebrations in the streets. But it didn’t.

The kingdom didn’t come bursting on the scene with power and dominance – it had its beginnings in the small and insignificant. It wasn’t led by powerful priests, but common farmers and fishermen. Nobody even noticed the birth of the Messiah in a stable in Bethlehem - who could take seriously a carpenter’s son - who would believe that the kingdom of God would have anything to do with the likes of Jesus and his disciples?

It may look small and insignificant, but don’t underestimate its potential. When God’s kingdom takes root, it spreads like kudzu in springtime. Within three decades of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, Paul would write this to the Colossian church: “This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven” (Col. 1:23). The church followed the marching orders of Jesus in Acts 1:8 - It began in Jerusalem and spread to Judea, Samaria and to the ends of the earth. Even when it looked like Satan had defeated the church and crushed its spirit in Acts 8, we read about the martyrdom of Stephen, and “on that day a great persecution broke out against the church at Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria… Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went” (Acts 8:1,4).

And it’s not just the physical and numerical growth of the kingdom, it is in the heart and lives of individuals that the kingdom works its greatest power. Who would have thought that the kingdom would hold any interest for a fisherman like Peter or a tax collector like Zaccheus? The kingdom of God and the likes of the Gerasene demoniac? The kingdom and a 5-time divorcee at a Samaritan well near Sychar? Perhaps the most amazing of all – a self-righteous, up and coming Pharisee named Saul who devoted his life to destroying the church, yet when the kingdom took up residence, he would write, “For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect” (1 Cor. 15:9-10).

The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed or a grain of yeast. They are tiny but their potential is exponential, their power works in and around and through our lives in unimaginable ways.

Luke places another kingdom illustration immediately following these two:

“Someone asked him, ‘Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?’ He said to them, ‘Make every effort to enter through the narrow door, because many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able to. Once the owner of the house gets up and closes the door, you will stand outside knocking and pleading, ‘Sir, open the door for us.’ But he will answer, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from.’” (Luke 13:22-25).

This story is, of course, a bit different than the two analogies preceding it, but it tells us something about the nature of the kingdom of God.

In this account, Jesus again talks about expectations. He begins by admonishing his listeners to enter the kingdom through the narrow door. You may remember that in the Sermon on the Mount, he used the same language, only with a few more details – “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Mt. 7:13-14).

Most expect the path into the kingdom of God to be wide, well lit and paved. Most think that the entrance requirements will be broad and loose and minimally intrusive with lots of exemptions and loopholes. All the kingdom will require is a membership card in the good-old-boy club and a mostly clean rap sheet. God is a God of grace after all isn’t he?

But imagine our surprise when we saunter up to the door, full of ourselves, confident that we are so far above average that we expect it to swing wide and God to say, “I’m sure lucky to have you here.”

The reality will be quite different. “Once the owner of the house gets up and closes the door, you will stand outside knocking and pleading, ‘Sir, open the door for us.’ But he will answer, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from.’”

How could he not know us? We’ve been at church every Sunday - we go to the right church, believe the right doctrine, fellowship the right people (and avoid the wrong people.) We did everything we were required to do – we’ve earned our way in. And God will say, “I don’t know you or where you come from.”

Jesus is speaking to people who thought they had the express ticket into heaven – no lines, no waiting, no doubt. They were in because of who they were and where they came from. They were God’s people, the Israelites! They came from Abraham, Isaac and Jacob! “God, what do you mean you don’t know us! There they are! Abraham, come tell God we’re your children. Jacob, surely you recognize us! Don’t close that door!”

And even more tragic – they thought they had a lock on the market of salvation. Salvation belonged to the Jews – period. No one else, from anywhere else. But Jesus says, “People will come from east and west and north and south, and will take their places at the feast in the kingdom of God.”

We see the answer to their original question back in vs. 23, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” They thought they knew the answer and it was them. Jesus’ answer is “Yes, but it isn’t you.” They majored in religion, but missed the kingdom. They knew all about God, but never knew God. They were shut out from the one thing that mattered most.

And then this kingdom principle in vs. 30, “Indeed there are those who are last who will be first, and first who will be last.” The kingdom isn’t about position and priority, about who you know and where you come from. The kingdom is open to any who come with humbled hearts and willing obedience.

The kingdom isn’t about geographic borders and family bloodlines. Citizens of God’s kingdom pledge their allegiance and loyalty to a king who has no earthly throne but the hearts of people. The borders of his kingdom are the lives of people who live as aliens and strangers in this world, who are yearning for a heavenly home.

The Wife of My Youth

2007-02-14T14:28:00.000-06:00

Twenty-seven years ago I would never have imagined being more in love with the woman who had agreed to married me. I assumed that young love was the best love. Unstained by years of conflicts and neglect and boredom, we were totally infatuated with each other, consumed with our life together. How could it get any better?

And yet, after almost 28 years of marriage (in May), I look back with wonder that our love is so much richer and deeper, and we are more in love than we have ever been. Instead of the conflicts and neglect (though I’m sure we’ve gone through a bit of both), we love being together and doing things and going places together. Instead of dreading the empty nest, we anticipate the day it will be just the two of us again.

I thought at the time I had married my best friend, but I had no idea how truly and completely we would become best friends. There is no one else I would rather be with, and the years, rather than accentuate our differences have made us more perfectly one than I could ever have imagined. More than ever, I have found myself following Solomon’s advice to “rejoice in the wife of your youth.”

Happy Valentine's Day, Diana!

Get Ready

2007-02-13T15:06:00.000-06:00

This week's installment of Luke's Gospel. Thanks for coming to visit.

If you ever get a phone call that starts, “Where are you?” you know you’re already in trouble. You’ve forgotten an appointment – somewhere you should have been, someone you should have met, an event you had to be at.

So now what do you do? You’re late, you’re not ready, even if you went ahead and showed up, you would have apologies to make and feelings to smooth over. Any way you slice it, this isn’t going to be pleasant.

It’s one thing to stand up a friend for lunch, it’s a little worse to miss a doctor’s appointment. Even worse, to forget about a wedding… that you are supposed to be officiating at… across town… and you’ve been working in your garden all Saturday morning. (No, I didn’t do that, but I remember one my professors telling our counseling class about getting the call from the mother of the bride 30 minutes after the wedding was to have started, and he was in his garden covered with dirt and manure and sweat!)

It’s just never a good thing to forget about appointments. Having said that, there is one appointment you really don’t want to not be ready for –

“Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, like men waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks they can immediately open the door for him. It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes. I tell you the truth, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them. It will be good for those servants whose master finds them ready, even if he comes in the second or third watch of the night. But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” (Luke 12:35-40)

In fact, Luke has gathered a number of similar stories and sayings and admonitions here in chapters 12 and 13, all focused on the importance of readiness and preparation for the coming of Christ, and the rewards of readiness and the consequences for not being prepared. He deals with servants who have been entrusted with stewardships and responsibilities, burglars coming at night, and peace and division within families; he talks about predicting the weather, and avoiding lawsuits, about unproductive fig trees and repentance for sin.

Each of them focuses our attention on the importance of being aware that God will one day come in judgment, and on that day, everyone will be called to account for their lives.

This is kind of an uncomfortable section in Luke. We like to think and talk about God’s grace. We are all for Jesus healing the sick and casting out demons and raising the dead. We like to hear about Jesus putting the hypocritical Pharisees in their place and feeding the 5000 with a little boy’s sack lunch. We’ll even put up with him when he rebukes us for worry, because we all could use to work on that.

But Jesus cuts through all the happy faces and feel good talk and says, the consequences for neglecting to prepare, and disregarding responsibilities are severe. Punishment and destruction await those who ignore their appointment with God.

Jesus attempts to make his point vivid and real to his listeners by using language and illustrations from their own experiences. He begins with a group of servants whose master has gone to a wedding banquet. It would be like an office where the employer has to leave on a business trip which will keep him occupied for several days. (Remember from other wedding banquets in the NT that these weren’t just a meal that lasted an hour or two, but a celebration that would last for several days.) The point being that neither the servants nor the office staff know when the boss will return.

What are their options? Well, it depends. Some servants might look at this absence as an opportunity to cut loose and take it easy – they’ll take the day off, break into the wine cellar, find the keys and go riding around town in the company chariot. As long as the boss is gone, they don’t have a care in the world. Their assumption is that they’ll have plenty of warning and be able to fool the boss and no one will be the wiser.

The other option is that the servants behave as if the master would walk through the door at any moment. Their conduct doesn’t change simply because they aren’t being watched. And when their master shows up, they are ready to greet him at the door. And when they do, they are greeted with an amazing surprise. The master is so delighted to see their loyalty and dedication that he reverses roles and has them sit at the banquet table and he serves them.

When the boss walks through the door, the employees are hard at work, not because they are afraid of their boss, but because they are committed to the company. And what does the boss do? He says, “You guys are amazing, let’s close the office early and go to the restaurant – my treat!”

Paul addressed the same concerns in a more immediate and practical way. This kind of mindset isn’t just about what will happen and how you should act at the coming of Christ. It affects the here and now. “Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to win their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving” (Col. 3:22-24).

We live every day as if the Lord were coming that day. . . .

. . . . Jesus didn’t use scare tactics to make people turn to the Lord. And what he says here in Luke 12 wasn’t a manipulative ploy to make more disciples. Jesus was simply telling the truth. There is a God who holds us accountable for the lives we live. His greatest joy is from seeing us live obedient and abundant lives. And he has done everything in his power to make that possible. But he has also made us creatures of choice, and he will not force our obedience. And even though he is God, he cannot alter the consequences of rebellion and disobedience.

And so, we read in 12:47, “That servant who knows his master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what his master wants will be beaten with many blows.” Or in 13:5, “But unless you repent, you too will all perish.”

With deadly seriousness, we need to listen to Jesus’ words. They are life and death. Punishment and eternal destruction await those who ignore the warnings and refuse to prepare for his coming.

God Is In Control

2007-02-05T09:18:00.000-06:00

Monday mornings with Luke. . . This one was a tough one. When you step on your own toes, somehow it seems to hurt worse. As I say in the sermon, I am a worrier from a long line of worriers, and I find myself struggling with this sin more now than ever before. So little time, so much to worry about! Perhaps I can take a little of my own advice.

I would guess that there is a point in every one of our lives when we come to the realization that we are not in control. You may have reached that point years ago, or it may be just around the corner for you. It is a frightening, disorienting moment. To realize that you can’t control tomorrow, let alone what will happen a year from now. To realize you aren’t the master of your destiny, the captain of your ship, the king of your castle. Your dog won’t even obey you – how are you supposed to keep your teenagers from running amok? There is a helplessness that is overwhelming when that moment comes.

Not everybody reacts in the same way. Some just melt into a puddle of mush and sink into depression – if they can’t be in control, what’s the use of living. Others reassert their grip and start trying to control everything around them – you might recognize the Pharisees in this group. Some of us, though – and it doesn’t happen all at once or perfectly – some of us drop to our knees and cry out “What now God?” And it is at that very moment that God says, “Finally – now I can really get to work!”

The 12th chapter of Luke brings us into this world of uncertainty and declares that God is in control . . . .

Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life ? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? “Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Luke 12:22-34)

. . . . In contrast to the rich fool, most of the people to whom Jesus was speaking lived from hand to mouth. When they prayed for their daily bread, it was for that day’s bread. And the clothes they had on their back – that was their wardrobe. It would be hard not to worry about such basic things when you lived that close to the edge of poverty.

Now, most of us don’t worry a lot about having enough food, or enough clothes. We might like to eat steaks instead of chicken and shop at Macy’s instead of Wal-Mart, but we don’t have to worry about either our refrigerators or our closets being empty. But amazingly, we come up with all kinds of other things to worry about. I don’t know what you worry about, but tell me you haven’t worried about something this week, probably even this morning.

Regardless of what we worry about, worry exposes a basic flaw in our faith – we don’t believe that God is really in control. We don’t think he is concerned enough or capable enough to handle our problems.

Jesus tackles this flaw head on. Look around you: look at the birds – God feeds them; look at the flowers – God clothes them. And he does it with such abundance and beauty. And if he cares that much about birds and flowers, don’t you think you are more important than they are? It’s a rhetorical question, but just in case you need it spelled out, the answer is “absolutely yes!”

The second flaw is that we think worry is productive. That somehow worry gives us a measure of control over whatever it is we are worrying about. And once again, he drives home his point, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life ? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?”

And let me tell you – as a worrier, from a long line of worriers – I can testify that he’s right. I’ve tried to control things by worrying about them, and it doesn’t work. In fact, believe it or not, it usually makes them worse. Because now, not only do I have the issue to deal with, but I have the anxiety and dread of what-ifs hanging over my head.

Worry is me trying to wrestle the steering wheel out of God’s hands. It’s me, as the back seat driver telling God he doesn’t know where he’s going, he should have taken that exit, he isn’t going fast enough, he should have asked for directions, can you turn the radio to a different station, do you hear that rattle in the engine… are we there yet? Jesus says, sit back and trust God, he knows the road ahead. No, really – that’s what vs. 30 says – speaking of worrying about food and clothing - “For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given you as well. Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.”

The antidote for worry is three-fold:
1) Trust God – and that means completely, in everything, without reservation. Every time you find yourself thinking, “But God…” stop yourself (or as Paul admonishes us, “take every thought captive for Christ”). Literally stop yourself and verbally say, “God is in control, trust him.”

2) Seek his kingdom. It’s a state of mind and a path to follow. When you are seeking God’s kingdom, it puts you directly in the path of options that will be within God’s will for you. So many times, God can’t answer our prayers or bless our lives, because we aren’t open to his answers. We want our prayers answered the way we want them answered. Instead, we need to broaden our prayers to kingdom concerns. If we want, not necessarily what is best for me, but for God’s kingdom, and make ourselves available for his use, and seek his glory – suddenly God has a whole palette of colors with which to paint the picture rather than one color – of my choosing.

I suspect God has answered many of my prayers in much more powerful ways than I had imagined, and I was unable to see his answer because I demanded that he answer it one way – my way. And when he didn’t answer it MY WAY I assumed he hadn’t answered at all.

When I “seek his kingdom” (and as Matthew adds, “and his righteousness”) – I will be available and ready for God’s answers.

There is a third component to this antidote: “Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This is a practical component. The more familiar phrasing from the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew says simply, “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven,” which is somewhat ambiguous as to what that might mean. But not in Luke. Remember, Luke has a heart for the poor, the outcast, the disenfranchised. Luke, much more often than the other Gospels brings our attention back to the needs of common people. And so he reminds us that Jesus’ words about trust and treasure have a practical application: “Sell your possessions and give to the poor.”

Being concerned about the needs of others pries loose our grip on our possessions; looking outward instead of inward releases our attention from a pre-occupation with self.

How do you quit worrying about money? Give more of it away. How do you trust God? Pour yourself out for his kingdom.

Most of us would never think we relate to the rich fool. We don’t worry about bigger barns and we aren’t selfish toward God.

But, on the other hand, we do sometimes think we’re the driving force behind our success - and we do think the future rests on our decisions - and there is a whole lot of “I, me and mine” involved in running my life.

And Jesus challenges us – “who is in control?”

Snow in Memphis!

2007-02-02T10:09:00.000-06:00

Once every three or four years, Memphis will get snow. Today was the day. (We more frequently will get a layer of ice that will really mess things up for a day or two - but real snow is a rarity.) And you have my wife to thank (along with all of the other school teachers who had their kids out doing a snow dance yesterday!) So all of the schools are closed and all of the teachers and kids are home, or more likely, outside making snowmen and having snowball fights. The fact that the roads are fine and traffic isn't in the least affected makes little difference. Memphis will close at the hint of wintery precipitation.

The picture above is taken out the office door of the church building here. It is a very pretty snow - about two inches deep and soft and fluffy - but by noon it will be gone, or at least melted into slush. We'll enjoy it while it's here - my family from home, and me from the office (where I've got sermons and bulletin to finish up - ugh!)

Reading at Ross Elementary

2007-01-30T13:55:00.000-06:00

One of the occasional blessings that comes with being next door to an elementary school, and being the official school adopter, is that we get asked to come and read to classes of children. All of our church staff and several of our ladies participated. I went around and read to three classes of 3rd graders. I took a couple of Max Lucado’s children’s books, You Are Special and Children of the King. The kids loved them. I guess the stories speak to such basic needs to be loved and accepted that they transcend age, race and culture. I went away really appreciative of the job that those teachers do in a difficult neighborhood against all kinds of obstacles in the public school system. It’s a start.

Clean Hands – Unclean Heart

2007-01-29T14:42:00.000-06:00

Thanks for stopping by. I know some of you tire of my series on Luke, but if no one else gets anything out of it, the book of Luke has inspired me beyond what I ever imagined. This week I share part of the lesson from Luke 11:37-54 where Jesus confronts the legalism of the Pharisees and teachers of the law.

“When Jesus had finished speaking, a Pharisee invited him to eat with him; so he went in and reclined at the table. But the Pharisee, noticing that Jesus did not first wash before the meal, was surprised. Then the Lord said to him, ‘Now then, you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness. You foolish people! Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also? But give what is inside the dish to the poor, and everything will be clean for you’” (Luke 11:37-41).

We’ve always had a rule around our house that you wash your hands before you come to the table for supper. It just seems like a good idea that you don’t want whatever you’ve had in your hands to end up in your mouth (especially knowing where little children’s hands have been!)

I don’t want you to think that this Pharisee’s concern is about that. His concern is strictly religious. It was not a matter of hygiene, but of ceremony. Of utmost concern to the Pharisees was the matter of ceremonial purity. You didn’t eat the meat of an unclean animal, you didn’t touch dead bodies, you didn’t have contact with anyone with a skin disease or a flow of blood, and you didn’t eat without washing your hands.

And it wasn’t just that you took a bar of soap to the basin and scrubbed up. There were very specific rules and regulations for the amount of water to be used, and the manner of washing spelled out in minute detail in the Mishnah (the 63 volumes of codified Rabbinic tradition that spell out the details of what the commandments mean and how they should be applied). The Pharisees were scrupulous, they were legalistic. And they expected that Jesus would share their concern. He didn’t.

In fact, this became a teachable moment. Jesus took this moment and this situation to confront what was the most fundamental flaw in the thinking of the Pharisees. Their assumption was that what God really wants is behavior that conforms to a set of rules. And if only we have the right rules, and enough of them, that humans will be forced to comply and God will be pleased. They misunderstood both men and God.

You see, part of that assumption is that God is not really all that concerned with what goes on inside of us – as long as our behavior complies with the rules. They made the same mistake we make. We think God is either unaware or unconcerned with my thoughts and my heart – all he wants is compliant behavior. And they assumed that all humans need is more information (and a stiff enough punishment for disobedience held over them) and we will be happy to obey.

Well, you tell me. When you sin, is it because you aren’t aware that what you are doing is wrong? Tell me whether all of those preachers I have known over the years who have committed adultery hadn’t themselves preached a sermon or two against the very thing they were doing. Just a couple of months ago, the media exposed a Colorado Springs minister, who was one of the loudest evangelical voices against homosexuality, of being involved in the very sin which he so vehemently condemned. Did he not know it was wrong? It’s not a lack of knowledge or a severe enough threat of punishment that launches sin. It starts in the heart.

Listen to how Jesus begins with his host: “Now then, you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness. You foolish people! Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also? But give what is inside the dish to the poor, and everything will be clean for you.”

Is God concerned with the inside – with our heart and with our thoughts? Absolutely! He is the one who made both the outside and the inside. Yes, he wants right behavior, but even more than that he wants our hearts.

Each of the next three paragraphs begins with the word “Woe.” You might think that it is a statement of condemnation, for there is much to be condemned, but the truth is, “Woe” is a word of anguish and mourning. It’s not so much that their attitude angers him, but that it grieves him.

God never takes pleasure in condemnation and punishment of sin. It tears his heart out. And when Jesus confronts the sin of those who opposed him, it is with a broken heart. And what is it that grieves Jesus?

Vs. 42 “Woe to you Pharisees, because you give God a tenth of your mint, rue and all other kinds of garden herbs, but you neglect justice and the love of God. You should have practiced the latter without leaving the former undone.”

Their legalism was meticulous. They never walked a step farther than Sabbath law allowed. They never ate a bite of food that hadn’t been grown, prepared, served and blessed according to regulation. Commandments weren’t enough – they built hedges around hedges to prevent trespassing upon their precious rules – over 600 specific prohibitions just to delineate what God must have meant by “keep the Sabbath holy.” They painstakingly obeyed the letter of the law with regard to giving. Every tenth shekel they earned was tithed, every tenth animal in their flocks and herds was delivered to the priests. If they had found a dime on the sidewalk, a penny would go into the offering plate the next Sabbath. They counted, divided and tithed the tiny garden herbs. Their righteousness was impeccable.

But in the midst of their legalism, they were unconcerned with how they treated other people, and God was someone to be obeyed, not loved. Their religion was consumed with the trivial, while the important things were conveniently dismissed. Justice and mercy were someone else’s problem.

I’d love to shake my finger at the Pharisees – if their attitude didn’t hit so close to home. I’ll have to admit – it’s a lot easier to manipulate people’s behavior than to change their hearts. It’s a lot easier to perform religious rituals and keep legalistic rules than love people and treat them with respect and justice. It’s easier to keep God at arm’s length than to invite him to do house-cleaning in my life.

Vs. 43 “Woe to you Pharisees, because you love the most important seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces.”

At the heart of every sin, ultimately, is pride. Pride is the choice of self over God and other people. Every sin you might commit comes down to that choice. Pride is the belief, sometimes blatant, sometimes subtle that you know better than God what is best for your life. It is the belief that your desires are more important than other’s needs.

This really was the bottom line for the Pharisees. It wasn’t that their behavior wasn’t righteous – Jesus himself cautioned his disciples, “Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.” They were righteous, but it was a self-righteousness. It was clothed with a superiority, with an arrogance that made God sick to his stomach.

And wherever they went and whatever they did, whether it was praying on the street corners or dropping their contribution in the offering box, it was to be seen and admired by others. When we get to Luke 18, we will meet two men praying at the temple – one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. And the Pharisee’s prayer is so telling – Luke says he “stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men – robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’”

If we do what we do to be seen by others and maintain an image of righteousness that is only skin deep, how can we live with ourselves?

And the third woe Vs. 44 “Woe to you, because you are like unmarked graves, which men walk over without knowing it.”

I hope you hear the irony in Jesus’ statement. A Pharisee would never risk ceremonial contamination by walking in a cemetery, lest he step on a grave and, even indirectly, unknowingly come in contact with a dead body.

But Jesus said to the Pharisees, everyone who comes in contact with you becomes contaminated, because you are the walking dead. Everything you touch is tainted with your legalism and disregard for God. Your appearance is one of righteousness, but underneath the surface is spiritual death. . . .

. . . . Unfortunately some people are not eager to be taught. These “woes,” instead of having the effect of melting hearts and changing attitudes harden the Pharisees and scribes against him. These teachable moments were anything but. Pride corrupts the heart, and arrogance blinds us to our own sin. That is what Jesus confronts.

We all have a little Pharisee blood in us. The question is whether you will allow God’s grace and mercy in your life provide the antidote and transform your heart.

Judy, Judy, Judy

2007-01-26T16:07:00.000-06:00

Just a quick note of congratulations to one of my blog world friends. Judy Poyner (known to most of you as Meowmix) will retire on February 2 after almost 19 years with the FDIC and 30 years total with the government (they had her retirement party yesterday). Judy, besides being a good blog friend, used to be a member at the Ross Road church before the distance she had to drive to church just became too much for her dear friend Doris, who suffers from some difficult health problems (she told me today she is 5 years cancer free!). So, I have had the additional blessing of getting to talk with Judy in person from time to time, and she is just as encouraging and supportive in person as she is in the cyber-world.

Judy is the one who got me connected with this little blogging community back in the summer of 2005. Though she herself does not have a blog (something, perhaps retirement will afford her time to do), she is the most prolific commenter I know. I have seen Meowmix comments show up everywhere I turn. I’m sure that anyone reading my blog has seen her name on your blog comments as well.

So, give a shout out to one of the best blogging non-bloggers in cyber-world today! Thanks and congratulations, Judy!

(In case you're wondering, I didn't have a picture of Judy, so I found a picture of another famous Judy. It also reminds me of the kind of friends Judy used to hang around with before she found all of us :-) ).

There’s an Award for That

2007-01-23T09:22:00.000-06:00

I had the TV on while I was getting ready this morning. This was the morning they announced the Oscar nominees. I’m sure that across the globe, actors and actresses, producers and directors were hanging on every word, hoping their film or their name would be mentioned. For each of them, an Oscar symbolizes the ultimate achievement in their craft. For some, it is even more (cue Sally Fields, “You love me!”).

I have to plead ignorance. After listening to the announcements, I felt culturally illiterate. I hadn’t seen a single film that was nominated (actually, now that I think of it, I did see Cars, but does a cartoon really count as culture?) It’s not that I don’t go see movies (where else can you get buttered popcorn that good?), but apparently the movies I enjoy seeing don’t rate on the awards scale.

I’m not sure if it says more about the movies or about me. We’ve tried going to see movies that were award winning. I remember the rave reviews for Terms of Endearment, so we decided to go see what everybody was saying was the greatest movie ever made. I must not know much about movies – it was the worst movie I have ever seen. I prefer Antiques Roadshow – it has more plot, and better acting.

Occasionally there are movies I like that actually win awards – Lord of the Rings, Forrest Gump, Gandhi, The Sting, Amadeus. But generally, if a movie is considered worthy of the acclaim of the Hollywood elite, I probably haven’t seen it and wouldn’t enjoy it. (One exception this year might be Clint Eastwood’s two movies on Iwo Jima. I’ve always liked his work – both as an actor and director. “Right turn, Clyde.”)

Save me a seat on the aisle!

Teach Us to Pray

2007-01-22T08:05:00.000-06:00

Continuing thoughts on the Gospel of Luke. These from Jesus' words on prayer in chapters 11 and 18. In the sermon I dealt with four themes in these three stories: the nature of God, the power of persistent prayer, prayer that changes the mind of God, prayer that changes us. In this post, I’m including thoughts on the first . . . .

How many times the disciples must have awoken early in the morning to find Jesus’ bed empty and followed his tracks out into the desert or up a mountain or to a garden and found him praying. It must have mystified them. I’m sure a lot of things about Jesus mystified them, but especially prayer – not just how often he prayed, but how intensely. It was the food that sustained him, it was the air he breathed. It wasn’t a perfunctory ritual to be done and gotten out of the way each day – prayer was life for Jesus. They had never seen anybody like him.

And so one day, when they followed his footprints out to a deserted place and found him praying, they summoned the courage to interrupt him and ask “Lord, teach us to pray.” And he said to them, “When you pray, say, ‘Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation.’”

You’ll notice that Luke’s version is a bit shorter than the more familiar Lord’s prayer in Matthew. Basically the same content, just more concise. But in this prayer, Jesus invites us into a world of prayer in which God is a father who is personally involved in and cares about the needs and concerns in our lives.

We are so used to the familiarity of the language that it doesn’t really strike us. But if your picture of God was of the Creator putting the stars and planets in their places, or the Lawgiver at Mt. Sinai handing down commandments – in other words – a majestic and glorious God, but one who rules from heaven – to address him as Father and think that he personally cares about whether you’ve had breakfast today would be mind-boggling.

It’s what Jesus says next, though, that really captures my attention. In fact, the illustrations he uses here in chapter 11 and later in chapter 18, challenge us to rethink everything we think we know about God.

I would guess that most of us think that God has everything already planned out and written in stone. After all, God knows everything about us – as the Psalmist writes, “All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Or, “Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.” It’s not a far jump to conclude that our lives are pretty much lived out by script and not open to editing. But Jesus, in these stories, dissuades us of that nonsense.

Even though God is unchanging, the paradox of scripture is that prayer has the power to change him. And frequently in scripture, we find prayer doing just that. The course of events in our lives are not set in stone – we are given the opportunity to participate with God in changing what happens. When we pray, God listens – and he listens with an open heart and mind.

The first illustration:
“Suppose one of you has a friend, and he goes to him at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, because a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have nothing to set before him.’ “Then the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children are with me in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man’s boldness he will get up and give him as much as he needs. So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.”

The second:
“Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

And the third:
“In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually wear me out with her coming!’ And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly.”

There are common threads that run through the three of these stories, so instead of treating each of them individually, let’s look at the larger themes.

The first one is the biggest. Jesus gives us insight into the nature of God by contrasting it with the nature of man.

In the first story, a man goes to his neighbor’s house late at night wanting to borrow some food to feed his friend who has just arrived. Well, of course the neighbor balks at having to get up out of bed and help him, and if it was just on the basis of friendship, he would be out of luck. But the man keeps knocking and shouting, until the neighbor says, “Enough already!” and gets up and gives him whatever he needs.

But God isn’t like this neighbor. You don’t have to keep pounding on the door or shouting up to the bedroom window to wake him up. We don’t have to get God’s attention – we don’t have to convince him of our needs. Jesus says, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” God is eager to answer your prayers.

In the second story, a son asks for something to eat – fish or eggs. No human father, even an evil one, is going to give him something harmful – in Jesus’ example, a snake or a scorpion.

But if a human father knows something about love and generosity, how much more does God know how to give the very best. And you can be sure that, whatever path your life takes, whatever storms you have to endure, God is working for your good. In Paul’s words, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

In the third story, we meet a poor widow, who has met with injustice and has no means to bribe her way through the justice system. On top of that, the judge is unfair and corrupt, and won’t even hear her case. Nevertheless, she shows up at court every morning pleading for the judge to hear her case and rule in her favor. Every day she shows up – days turn into weeks, weeks into months. Finally, she wears him out and he rules in her favor just to get rid of her.

The point is not that you have to wear God out to answer your prayers, but that God – unlike the unjust judge – will bring justice, and quickly. God does not have to be convinced or bribed – he is on your side. He not only hears your case – he is your advocate as well.

God is not like any of these human examples – he is not a neighbor, whose willingness to help is limited by his mood or his patience. He is not a human father, who is limited by his own shortcomings or resources. He is not the heartless judge who has to be hounded into compliance.

God is better than a friend – he provides generously and abundantly when we ask and seek and knock. He is a loving Father, who knows even better than we do what our real needs are. He is a compassionate and caring judge who responds with mercy.

Putting the “Umph” in Triumphant

2007-01-19T12:21:00.000-06:00

The really good ones make it look easy. Tiger Woods, Pete Sampras, Michael Jordan, (granted, Monica Seles sounded like she would burst a kidney every time she hit a tennis ball!) But those who are really good at what they do make it look effortless. It’s not. And it’s not just with athletes. Anybody, doing anything, has to work hard and put in long hours of preparation and practice in order to excel at their chosen field.

That includes preaching. I have some favorites I love to listen to – they make it sound effortless. I know better. Now granted, some are gifted (and I mean that literally) with the ability to think profoundly and speak eloquently. But I know that behind the “effortless” presentation went long hours of study and preparation. The rest of us have to work even harder just to keep our inadequacies from getting in the way of the power of God’s Word.

I’ve known and worked with preachers who didn’t put in the effort, and it showed. The congregation suffered, the Word suffered. It is an awesome stewardship that demands our very best effort. If it’s easy, you’re not doing it right.

I remember the first time I read this quote by Karl Barth on the subject of preaching. I hadn’t been preaching long, and it sounded ominous. I read it today and it is even more threatening:

“What are you doing, you man, with the word of God upon your lips? Upon what grounds do you assume the role of mediator between heaven and earth? Who has authorized you to take your place there and to generate religious feeling? And, to crown all, to do so and expect results and success? Did one ever hear of such overweening presumption, such Titanism, or – to speak less classically but more clearly – such brazenness! So far as I know, there is no one who deserves the wrath of God more abundantly than ministers!”

. . . I think I’ll get back to work on my sermon!

The Fear of the Lord

2007-01-17T16:16:00.000-06:00

Only a couple of thoughts from the day:

I’ve spent a lot of time in Proverbs lately – much of it seeming to come into focus in the phrase “the fear of the Lord.” The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. In other words, it is the threshold over which one must cross to comprehend life. The fear of the Lord involves so many facets of our relationship with God. It carries implications of respect, awe, wonder, trust, obedience. Most of all, it involves an exclusive, loyal relationship with the Lord. And so we read in Psalm 147:11, “The Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.”

Paradoxically, if we “fear the Lord,” we have no reason to fear the Lord.

One Thing Is Needed

2007-01-15T08:51:00.000-06:00

Continuing thoughts from Luke's Gospel. This is from a familiar story in Luke 10:

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:38-42).

Martha was simply being Martha. She was Mary’s older sister (and we’ll learn from John’s Gospel, the sister of Lazarus as well). Notice, it was her home, she was the hostess to this gathering. She had invited them to stay at her home in Bethany. Imagine having an extra 13 men as your houseguests – extra food, extra beds, extra work.

We’ve had Diana’s brother and family here this past week – Larry, Connie and Jonathan – they’re missionaries in Rio de Janeiro – and when they come, they come packed for 2 months in the states. So basically, they carry everything they need to live on with them – plus all of the Christmas presents and extra purchases they’ve made in the states while they’ve been here. Now, three isn’t that big a deal. But when their boys were younger – and they have four of them – that’s six people with two enormous suitcases each in a 15-passenger van come driving up. And when they unloaded into our house – and we had our own three at home – the house was overflowing. And it was a huge production keeping everybody fed and enough clean towels and finding places for everyone to sleep. Well, you can imagine.

And I can imagine how Martha must have felt having her house full of extra houseguests. She wanted them there, mind you – it’s not that she resented them being there. But that’s a lot of extra work and stress that went with the invitation to come and stay at her home.

She is busy preparing a meal – and I don’t mean she was in her kitchen microwaving a frozen Stouffer’s lasagna. Sure, Jesus can feed 5000 with just five loaves and two fish, but for Martha to feed 15, she had to begin early in the day, gathering firewood, killing a dozen chickens and dressing and plucking them, and going to the market to buy vegetables and fruit and bread – they didn’t have pantries and refrigerators – everything you needed for the day had to be purchased or prepared that day. So just one meal – and for that many people – was a daunting task. And she’s been at it since before dawn that morning. Are you exhausted just thinking about it?

And you know how houseguests are – “Martha, where do you keep the towels? Martha, you’re out of Diet Coke! Martha, Thomas spilled on the sofa! Martha, will you bring us some more of those hot wings? Martha…!” Have you been there? Even though you love your company, after a couple of days you want to stuff them back into their suitcases and push them out the front door.

Really, though, have you been there? Are you that conscientious older sister who is always glad to have the big family gatherings at your house – but you’re a nervous wreck before anyone even arrives, and a basket case after they leave? Or maybe you have the older sister who invites you to come, and you never do understand why she is always so stressed out while you are there.

So, when Luke says that Martha “was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made” he was making an understatement. Martha was up to her neck with all the work that had to be done – and she wasn’t getting any help.

In the meantime, Jesus is in the other room with all of his disciples gathered around him, teaching them. And don’t forget, wherever Jesus is, who is also close by? The crowds. Picture in your mind – Jesus sitting surrounded by disciples and everyone else who could crowd in – and those who couldn’t were standing at the doors and windows listening (probably a lot like the gathering in the house in Luke 5, where it was so crowded the four friends had to climb up and dig a hole through the roof to let their paralyzed friend down to Jesus.)

And Martha walks in on this, which is bad enough – but she looks over the crowd, and who is sitting on the front row at Jesus’ feet? Her sister Mary. And that’s it – she’s had it. She shoves her way through the crowd, past Peter, past Matthew, past them all, and plants her feet in front of Jesus and says, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (I probably didn’t do a good job of inflecting the frustration and bottled anger in her voice – after all, you can’t get mad at Jesus – but everybody is just sitting there, including Mary, while she’s been working all day to fix a meal and everything else that has to be done – and she is on her last raw nerve.)

If you had never read this story before – and before you look back at Jesus’ response – what would you expect him to say?
· Jesus is a responsible person – he certainly has always taught and modeled the importance of serving others.
· In fact, in the parable of the Good Samaritan that immediately precedes this story, Jesus highlighted two religious men who chose religious duties over serving their fellow man, and chose wrong.
· I would have guessed that Jesus would look at Mary and say, “Mary, Martha’s right – you need to get in there and help out.” Or, what most of you women might hope Jesus would say is, “Guys, Martha’s right – let’s all get in there and help get this meal on!”
· Whatever answer he gives, my bet is that he will affirm the importance and priority of serving.
· But he doesn’t. Instead, Jesus says, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one things is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

I want to make sure you don’t misunderstand what Jesus is saying.
· He’s not rebuking Martha and telling her to quit whining. There is a kindness and compassion in his voice when he says, “Martha, Martha.”
· And he recognizes that she has invested a lot of herself in the preparations for the meal and for their stay – “you are worried and upset about many things.” I think Jesus truly appreciated what she had done to serve and honor him.
· Jesus isn’t advocating laziness, or belittling the one who serves, in preference for the one who sits.
· But at the same time, Jesus reframes her focus. It’s not that all of the work that needs to be done isn’t important, it’s just that under the circumstances, it’s not the most important.
· If Jesus came to your house, would you be more concerned with the house or with Jesus? Would you spend more time feeding him a meal, or in being fed by the words from his mouth?

Martha was so distracted with all of the work that needed to be done, she didn’t stop to focus on Jesus. And so Jesus reminds her, “only one thing is needed.” What is that one thing? It is what Mary has chosen – to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen.
· The Pharisees will complain that Jesus’ disciples don’t fast like they do. And Jesus will tell them, you don’t mourn while the bridegroom is with you – you celebrate.
· In a few months – in this very house – Mary will break a jar of expensive perfume to anoint Jesus feet, and Judas will complain about what a waste it is – how it should have been sold to feed the poor. And Jesus will reply, “You will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.”
· Is fasting wrong? Is benevolence wrong? Is serving wrong? Not at all – but when Jesus is with you, there is one thing that is needed – to be with him. It is a reminder that the “good” things often compete with the “best” thing for our time and attention.

What an incredible moment – to have Jesus with you – to spend time at his feet listening and learning. Martha was so busy she couldn’t see it. And so Jesus calms her down and brings her back.
· I’m a lot like Martha. I get busy – and the truth is, a lot of the stuff I get busy with is in the name of serving Jesus. I get so busy with the “many things” that I lose track of the “one thing that is needed” – spending time with Jesus.
· Personal devotion gets sidetracked by preparing sermons.
· Prayer gets postponed by visiting the sick.
· Time with Jesus gets trampled under by the busy-ness of Jesus’ church.

Are sermons and visiting and church-work important? Absolutely. Are they most important? Absolutely not. Time with Jesus is the “one thing that is needed.” If you are shortchanging that for anything else, you have been distracted by the “many things” that captured Martha’s attention and heart.

We need discernment and balance. The Priest and the Levite should have missed church that day in order to stop and care for the man who lay beaten by the side of the road. Martha should have taken off her apron and sat down at Jesus’ feet.

A Blessing to Our Home

2007-01-12T10:00:00.000-06:00

This week has brought a blessing to our home. Diana’s brother and his family have been visiting with us. Larry and Connie Zinck have been missionaries in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil for the last 27 years. All but the first of their four sons were born in Rio, and the oldest, Nathan, has recently finished up an M.Div. at ACU and is preparing to go back to Brazil as a missionary himself (side note: he’s trying to raise support, in case anyone is involved with a missions program at a church and is looking for a missionary who is already fluent in language and culture and ready to hit the ground running once he gets there.)

Years ago, when they would show up with their four boys on furlough to the states, they would travel in a 15 passenger van, and the suitcases would never quit coming out of it. With their family of six and our family of five, we would fill up every square inch of house and be stepping over each other for a week. Now, they only have one son left at home and can travel in a Suburban with room to spare. It’s not as crowded and we can actually sit and visit. It’s been nice.

They were a part of a mission team of ten families that went to Rio in 1980. They were the first ones there, and they are the last ones left of the team still there. Their influence for the kingdom is incalculable. They have had a part in the formation of two thriving congregations, and hundreds of baptisms. They aren’t just foreign missionaries who have shown up to put in a stint on the mission field – they are there for life. They are a part of the people, they are as much Brazilian as they are American.

Larry and Connie are the kind of folks you enjoy just being around. They bring a blessing wherever they are, and for this week, we’ve been the ones blessed.

About Writing

2007-01-10T11:07:00.000-06:00

Not every word has to be profound. Not every thought has to be coherent. I find myself paralyzed by having to say something that will edify and bless with every syllable, and so I say nothing. It’s not that I’m not writing – I’m writing more than ever, but like the sheets of paper that used to be pulled from the typewriter and crumpled and tossed in the wastebasket, my blog folder is filled with paragraphs of thoughts that go no where. Much of it is my personal wrestling with the frustrations of my church situation, and not particularly helpful to publish. Some of it is my own struggle with my weaknesses and inadequacies, and surely no one wants or needs to hear about those.

I watched the movie Walk the Line the other night. In one scene Johnny Cash is in Sun Studio and Sam Sheppard has stopped him in the middle of his audition and told him no one wants to hear the same old song they’ve heard a hundred times already. And then he challenged him with the question: if he had one song to sing before he died to let people know what he really felt, what would it be? And it changed him.

It’s so much more comfortable to keep things arm’s length and intellectual. It is often painful to dig down into our feelings and share those. But that’s what people want to hear, and what changes them.

A little too close to home

2007-01-08T16:24:00.000-06:00

If you can't laugh at yourself...

But seriously, we need to realize that if we can't get along amongst ourselves, we don't have much to say to the world about unity.

Who Is My Neighbor?

2007-01-02T16:28:00.000-06:00

Hopefully the new year will slow down and allow more time for blogging. I appreciate those of you who stop by from time to time. Here is my next installment from Luke's Gospel and the familiar parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37.

. . . . At the end of the parable, Jesus rephrases the lawyer’s question – not the lawyer’s, “who is my neighbor?” but – vs. 36 – “who am I a neighbor to?” Do you hear the difference? It changes both the momentum and the motivation. It’s the difference between visiting at a church and going away saying, “Nobody was friendly to me,” or going to a church and deciding, “I’m going to be friendly to everybody I meet.” It’s the difference of responsibility. If I’m waiting for everyone to be a neighbor to me, I’m off the hook. If I change that to being a neighbor to others, I have taken on the responsibility of caring for the needs of others.

The lawyer grasps the subtlety and answers correctly – “the one who had mercy on him” – he knew that the Samaritan was the one who acted as a neighbor.

The lawyer doesn’t ask the question he should have asked - “what should I do,” but Jesus gives him the answer anyway – “Go and do likewise.”

. . . . I don’t know that I’ve ever felt the kind of hatred toward me that a Jew felt for a Samaritan. Even the lawyer’s response at the end of the parable displays the open contempt he felt toward Samaritans (“The one…”) - he won’t even acknowledge it was a Samaritan who did what was right.

I feel certain the Jew on the road was unconscious. If he was conscious, he most certainly would have rather died than have a Samaritan help him.

The Samaritan knows that. He stops anyway. He not only inconveniences himself, but he puts himself in danger from robbers. He goes the second mile in caring for this stranger who would have spit in his face if he knew who he was.

Let’s not get some idealized view of Samaritans – the feelings of mistrust and hatred were mutual. If it had been a different Samaritan who came along, he might have finished him off and bragged about it. Sometimes that’s how I feel.

There are some people it’s just hard to love – let’s admit it, they’re hard to even be around. They are critical and argumentative. If given the chance they would do anything to undermine you and hurt you – and chances are they have.

What do you do with people who dislike you and talk about you behind your back and try to hurt you if they can? How many people have hurt you this last week? How many have become your enemies? What do you do?

The Samaritan got down off his donkey and knelt by the side of the man and cleansed and bound his wounds and then he kept caring for this man who was his enemy.

Jesus startled his listeners in the Sermon on the Mount by saying, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” This idea of loving your enemies was radical. Everybody knows that you love those who love you, those who reciprocate your love. But Jesus says God’s people aren’t like everyone else. You love, in spite of your feelings, in spite of how another has treated you.

Back to the question – what do you do with your enemies? You start by admitting the person is your enemy. It would be easier (especially in the church) to ignore a person, avoid them, just not have any contact with them. That seems the more spiritual thing to do – after all we aren’t supposed to have enemies, are we?

A Jew would travel 20 miles out of his way to avoid traveling through Samaria. How far out of your way do you travel to avoid someone you don’t like?

What happens when you admit that someone is your enemy? Suddenly you have a responsibility – it forces you to do something. If I just dislike someone – if I feel indifferently toward them, then I can avoid them and ignore them and feel pretty good about myself. But an enemy demands my attention – I am now forced to treat them with love – to go out of my way to respond to them in a Christian way.
You’ve got to love Paul’s response to same kind of question in Romans 12:20-21 “On the contrary: ‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

You don’t act with hatred, not even with indifference – you embrace your enemies with the love of Christ, and transform them.

I Will Follow You

2006-12-11T15:52:00.000-06:00

Some of my thoughts from Luke 9:57-62...

The time for spectators was over. There would come a moment in Jesus’ ministry when those who were following would have to make a choice. The crowds had multiplied – everyone wanted to be in on the excitement – the sick were healed, the blind were given sight, demons were cast out, the dead were raised. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that?

But now the cross is on the horizon – the time for easy discipleship is over. The path is about to get steeper and more difficult as it turns toward Golgotha. You can’t just follow because you want to see the show – from here on in it will be costly.

Don’t let anyone sell you a bill of goods about the Christian life. Christianity isn’t a fast-track to success or wealth or popularity – it isn’t a stepping stone to a political career or a springboard to a promising future. The path of Christianity dead-ends into the cross. And that cross isn’t gold-plated and shiny – it is rough and painful and has but one purpose – execution. Whoever comes to the cross comes to die.

The hospitals in Jerusalem weren’t filled with recovering crucifixion survivors – the graveyards were filled with its victims. When Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” he was throwing down the gauntlet. This wasn’t an invitation to follow him – it was a warning for those who did.

And here at the end of chapter 9, Luke illustrates the increasing dedication necessary to follow Jesus by showing us three who thought they wanted to “As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He said to another man, “Follow me.” But the man replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say good-by to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:57-62).

If you haven’t noticed it’s a buyer’s market out there in Christianity. Churches competing against churches for members – offering bigger programs and customized services, enticing incentives – something for everybody. If they don’t have what you want at this church, there’s another one down the road that will. Consumers rule – churches respond or die. The days of loyalty and commitment are over. We’ll go where my needs are met, where I can have it my way – when I want it, how I want it.

Apparently Jesus didn’t get the memo. A man came to Jesus with an offer to follow him wherever he went. I’ll have to tell you – that’s a great offer – he sounds dedicated to me – don’t let this one get away, Jesus. Instead, Jesus tells him, there are no conveniences on this road – the wild animals have it easier than we do – your pillow at night will be a rock – the roof over your head will be the stars.

The next potential disciple, Jesus approached – “Follow me.” But the man replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” It sounds like a legitimate request. His father has died, his family is in grief, he needs to care for their needs. Who would be so heartless as to tear him away from his familial responsibilities? But apparently there is more going on here than one would see on the surface of the request. Some commentators on the passage refer to a common middle eastern custom of polite delay. You don’t refuse a request – you enthusiastically agree – but with a caveat – “may I wait until after my father’s funeral?”

The catch is, the father is not dying – perhaps not even in ill health. In fact, father may be 40 years old and expects to live to a ripe old age. His funeral may be years in the future – which is the intent of the response. “I would love to follow you Jesus, but not yet. I have plans for the future, I have things I want to do. Someday – and I sincerely mean it – someday, I will follow you. After my children are older, after my career’s in full swing, after I’m financially secure, after I’ve had time to travel… after my father’s funeral.”

Jesus’ reply cuts through the excuse and confronts the man with the urgency and importance of the present – “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” There really is no way of sanding the rough edges on this demand. Jesus demands that we transfer our loyalties – that we reorganize our priorities – not later - now.

When we get to ch. 14, we will hear Jesus lay down three conditions for discipleship that are so radical and uncompromising we would wonder that anyone would ever follow Jesus:
1) vs. 26 – “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple.”
2) vs. 27 – “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”
3) vs. 33 – “Any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.”

Any thought we might have of consumer driven religion is out the window. It’s not about my needs being met, or my preferences being satisfied. I can’t come to church expecting to be catered to and wooed. Being a disciple of Christ is about submitting all other loves and loyalties in my life under my first love and loyalty to Christ. Being a disciple means that my possessions and wealth are no longer under my ownership, but a stewardship granted by the new owner – God himself. Being a disciple means that my life ends at the cross. When I meet Christ at the cross in baptism, I die, am buried and then raised. I am a new creation. But – and do not miss this – it is not a life lived on my terms. I now carry the cross with me, every day, to remind me that even I am not my own – I belong to Christ. And my life is now about spreading the news of God’s kingdom – everywhere to everyone.

There is still a third potential follower in 9:61 – “Still another said, ‘I will follow you Lord; but first let me go back and say good-by to my family.’” What would sound to us like a legitimate request yet again meets with Jesus’ refusal. The second man looked to the future for his excuse. The third man looks to the past. There is something behind him that he regrets leaving behind – something that still has a hold on his heart. “Let me say good-by to my family?” If he was serious about following Jesus, the good-byes would already have been said. He would have come with suitcase in hand, ready to hit the road. But there is something that still calls to him from home.
And Jesus replied, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Just as you can’t plow a straight row looking back over your shoulder, you can’t be a follower of Jesus still desiring the life you left behind.

The past has a powerful hold on people. Some are held captive by the glory days of their past – how it used to be. Their accomplishments, their victories – a moment of success in the past to which everything else in their life pales in comparison. And so they cling to it so tightly their fingers hurt from their grip. And nothing will ever again equal it – their memories will make sure of that. How it used to be is their mantra for why the present just doesn’t measure up.

Others are shackled by a past failure. Something they did, or something done to them which they can never get past. And their lives are lived with “if only’s” and “what if’s.” They could never be worthy to follow Jesus because of who they were or what they did. And their regrets poison their life to any chance of joy or happiness or meaningful service because they will never be good enough.

Paul had a prescription for the person who finds himself looking back – and Paul knew something about both successes and regrets in the past – “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13-14).

Jesus’ demands for discipleship haven’t really changed. Yes, the culture, the geography, the society, the economics, the ethnicity have changed, but Jesus’ demands have not. In 2000 years, the call to follow Jesus hasn’t been watered down and “culturized” to fit our busy lifestyles and our consumer mentality. Whether you lived in A.D. 30 in Capernaum or in A.D. 2006 in Memphis, TN Jesus invites you to follow him – on his terms.

On the Mountaintop

2006-12-04T09:31:00.000-06:00

Here’s a little bit from my thoughts on Luke 9 and Luke’s account of the Mount of Transfiguration:

It was one of those moments you never want to end. Jesus had taken Peter, James and John with him up on the mountain to pray. It was a normal occurrence. Jesus often went off to pray. Jesus often took these three with him. There was no hint that this occasion would be out of the ordinary.

Luke connects this story with the previous section where Peter made that remarkable declaration that Jesus is the Christ – and where Jesus told them that he would be rejected and killed and then on the third day be raised to life. Luke says it was “about eight days” later when the four of them headed up to the mountain to pray. I think the connection is significant. From the moment of that announcement, the cross looms on the horizon. It’s presence affects every encounter and every conversation. Later in the chapter, Luke will use the phrase, “Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem.” It was never far from his thoughts. He was continually aware that his destination was on a hillside in Jerusalem.

I believe the experience on the Mt. of Transfiguration plays an important role in Jesus’ preparation for what is to come. Jesus is human. I know, I know – he was the Son of God. But when he came to earth, clothed in flesh, it was a package deal. His human experience came with all of the inherent feelings and emotions that come with being human. You will remember the Hebrews writer said, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered…” (Heb. 5:7-8), or even a little earlier, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin” (Heb. 4:15).

How would you feel, knowing that the cross awaited you? Jesus felt that too. And now on the mountain he receives some much needed encouragement and affirmation.

Luke says that “As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem” (Luke 9:29-31).

Sometimes we need to be reminded of who we really are. Jesus had spent over 30 years in a human body. I think he needed a reminder of reality – there was nothing wrong with the body he had, but it didn’t compare with the body he had worn and would wear again – you don’t think so? Listen to John’s description in Revelation 1:12-16 “I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone “like a son of man,” dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.” Jesus’ eternal glorified body. I think a few moments in it helped prepare him for what was to come.

But it gets better. Two glorified figures were there with him. Moses and Elijah – two of God’s greatest. They also appeared in glorious splendor. And they have a job – they came to talk with Jesus about his departure – and you’re going to love the word Luke uses there for departure – it is the Gk word “exodus.” Who better to come talk with Jesus than Moses. And suffering – no one knew it better than Elijah. The trials he had experienced to be God’s man – he had been there and done that. They aren’t there for information – it’s not to answer questions or lay out a plan – Jesus and the Father had already been through all that before the creation of the world. They are there for support and encouragement. They are there to let him know he won’t go through it alone.

It is just about now, that the three disciples enter onto the scene – vs. 32-33 “Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ (He did not know what he was saying.)”

Luke doesn’t say they were asleep, just very sleepy – that kind of half-awake, half-asleep state where you aren’t fully out, but not fully aware (ladies – like your husbands on Thanksgiving day, after the turkey dinner, watching their third football game for the day, their feet propped up and eyes half open.) The three of them had almost dozed off – maybe they thought they were dreaming – but then all of a sudden it hits them what is going on, and then that surge of adrenalin kicks in and they are up and fully awake. And they are taking it all in – Jesus, like they had never seen him – so bright their eyes hurt to look at him – and two glorified individuals with him – they knew immediately who they were (again, I don’t know how, but they did).

And as Moses and Elijah turn to leave, Peter (of course, it is Peter) bursts out, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters - one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” If we had been bold enough, we might have done the same thing. It was one of those moments you never want to end – and so Peter tries to prolong it – don’t go, sit back down, let us make you more comfortable. I love Luke’s comment in the parenthesis “He did not know what he was saying.” Have you ever said something that, as soon as it came out of your mouth, you wished you hadn’t said it? This is that. But what’s ironic is that it is Peter telling it on himself. I think Luke takes it from Mark’s Gospel, and Mark writes from the eyewitness accounts of Peter. And Peter can laugh at himself – “It just came out of my mouth! I can’t believe I said it! But you would have too, if you had been there.” Anything to keep the moment from passing.

It is at this moment, while the words were still on Peter’s lips that another voice thunders out. “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him” (Luke 9:35).

Getting the word out

2006-11-27T11:50:00.000-06:00

Just a few thoughts from Luke 9:1-17...

How do you get the word out? Think how many avenues of communication we have available to us today – radio, TV, internet, webcasts, podcasts, e-mail, mass mailings, personal letters, bulletins, newsletters, magazines, books, telephone calls. We can saturate the market with information directed at people who can use the news we have to communicate.

What did they have available to them in the first century? Word of mouth. From my lips to your ears. It’s amazing that word of Jesus ever got out. If it was left up to us, it probably wouldn’t have. It would have died a death of silence and apathy. They couldn’t depend on all the technological wonders we have available to us – they had to tell it if it were going to be told.

Chapter 9 contains three stories dealing with the preparation and training of the disciples to take the gospel to all creation.

Oh, you thought it came naturally? Jesus said go and they went? Just like that? No, Jesus spent time with his disciples preparing them for the day when they would be on their own. But for now, they are listening and watching and learning. Chapter 9 begins with some hands-on, roll-up-your-sleeves, get-out-and-do-it learning. They’ve been with Jesus almost 1½ years – they’ve observed Jesus heal the sick, cast out demons, and preach the kingdom of God. It’s time to get their feet wet.

Jesus calls the twelve together and invests in them the power and authority to go out and do what they have seen him do – heal the sick, cure diseases, drive out demons, and preach the kingdom of God. Now he has some instructions for them – “Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that town. If people do not welcome you, shake the dust off your feet when you leave their town, as a testimony against them” (Lk 9:3-5).

Don’t pack a suitcase, don’t put gas in the car, don’t take a credit card, don’t get any cash out of the ATM, don’t even take a sack lunch. When you go, go depending completely and absolutely on God. Let him sustain you and provide for your needs.

Now, if you’re like me, you’re thinking – that’s crazy! When I take a trip, I pack everything I might need for every kind of weather and every kind of activity. I take extra clothes and extra money. We load a cooler up with food and drinks as if there weren’t a restaurant between here and wherever we’re going. I want to know where I’m going, how long it will take to get there, how long we’ll be staying, and what we’ll do when we get there. Jesus said, go and let God take care of the details. And they did.

Luke says, “So they set out and went from village to village, preaching the gospel and healing people everywhere” (Lk 9:6). Mark tells us they went out in pairs – six groups of two fanning out across the countryside, visiting every village and city from Galilee to Judea. This wasn’t a weekend trip – not even a week long campaign. They traveled for weeks, healing and curing and preaching. By the time they finished, there wasn’t anybody from beggar to nobleman who didn’t know about Jesus. Even Herod had heard the news.

The disciples come back so excited they can’t wait to tell Jesus and each other what they have seen and done – “You won’t believe it, Jesus! We commanded the demons and they came out. We laid our hands on the sick and they were well! You’ve never seen anything like it!” And Jesus had to smile.

Even though it had been a rich and rewarding experience, they were exhausted and spent. And so Jesus took them away, just by themselves outside of the little town of Bethsaida to rest and debrief.

But it wasn’t meant to be. The crowds are relentless – they got wind of where Jesus was and they followed him – out to the middle of nowhere. Jesus went by boat, the crowds ran on foot. As they came to shore they saw them waiting – the mass of humanity – wanting, demanding, begging for more of Jesus.

How would you have felt? Have you ever tried to get away for a little time to rest? We’ve probably all gotten a little taste of it. Before you get your bags unpacked, you get a call – “We need you now! No, tomorrow won’t be soon enough, you’ve got to come now.” And so, with a heavy spirit and a weary mind you pack it all back in the car and head back. You’re still exhausted, and now you’re resentful on top of it. Been there?

Jesus and his disciples see them waiting, calling out for Jesus. And Luke says, “He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing” (9:11). Mark adds, “…he had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things” (Mk 6:34). I’ve said it before – people didn’t get in the way of Jesus’ ministry – they were Jesus’ ministry. People mattered most. And as tired and exhausted as he was, he steps out of the boat and begins taking care of people.

All day long he teaches and heals and cares for people. And I don’t think the disciples are sitting off to the side watching. By now, I think they are in the thick of things. Before they know it, the sun is starting to set. The disciples realize they have a problem – “Send the crowd away so they can go to the surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are in a remote place here” (9:12).

The logic of the request seems to miss Jesus. He turns and says to them, “You give them something to eat.” Do what? Jesus did you see us pulling a supply boat behind us? We don’t have enough food to feed this many people. Luke tells us they had five loaves of bread and two fish (it is John who tells us it was a little boy’s sack lunch.) Even if we went to all the surrounding towns we couldn’t come up with enough food to feed this crowd. Luke tells us there were about 5000 men. (If you include the women and children who were undoubtedly there, conservative estimates number the crowd at 15,000.)

So Jesus takes control of the situation. He tells the disciples, “Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.” I hope you can picture this in your mind – what an awesome sight that must have been – 15,000 people sitting in groups of 50 (that’s about 300 groups) – that would cover at least two football fields if they sat close.

And then Jesus takes this little boy’s sack lunch and prays over it, giving thanks to God, and then he starts tearing the loaves apart and breaking the fish into pieces and handing them to the disciples to begin passing out to the groups.

Ever stand in line at a church potluck and they start to run out of food before you get to the front of the line? This worked backward – the more groups they fed, the more food appeared. By the time they fed the last person, everybody was full and they picked up twelve basketfuls of leftovers from the original 5 loaves and 2 fish.

And some people try to minimize the miracle by suggesting that the miracle was that everybody secretly had their own food stashed under their robes and were too selfish to share, but when this little boy gave up his, Jesus miraculously got all these selfish people to suddenly become generous and share what they had with each other. Well, granted, I’ve known some people that it would take a miracle to pry their hands off of what they have. But that’s not the miracle here. And others suggest that the miracle was that somehow these loaves and fish became so miraculously filling that just a pinch (like we take off the cracker at communion) was enough to make them full (“Wow, I can’t eat another bite!”). Well, that’s certainly fanciful, too. Even with little pinches, 5 little loaves and 2 fish wouldn’t go far enough to feed 15,000 people.

Is it so hard to imagine that if Jesus could stop a storm in it’s tracks with a word, and heal the sick, and raise the dead, that he could multiply the bread and fish to feed 15,000 people? I might not know how he did it (I would love to have seen it!), but I have no doubt in my mind that every time they passed the basket, more appeared.

Let’s spend less time explaining away the miracles, and more time in awe and wonder at Jesus who made them happen.

Integrity

2006-11-17T11:06:00.000-06:00

I’ve been reminded recently of just how difficult it is to live with integrity (that is, simply, to have your words and your life match). It goes beyond honesty. It is wholeness of life that allows you to live with transparency. Integrity allows you live without worrying that something will be learned about a part of your life that would bring disgrace upon the whole.

That’s not to say that we live without privacy. And certainly, we’ve all done things that would embarrass us if others knew. But would they call into question who we’ve claimed to be? A person of integrity can never be “outed” or black-mailed because he has already admitted his weaknesses and failures to others and made himself accountable to others in order to help him live with integrity.

Integrity can’t be fueled by a fear that others would find out, but by an intense desire to be the man or woman God wants us to be. Fear cracks under stress and exhaustion – integrity is tempered by it.

Integrity is not sinless-ness, it is living with a plan to deal with sin. And, in fact, when others see us deal with sin in a godly way – rather than detract from their opinion of us – it increases our stock in their eyes.

Integrity is not a destination or event, but a lifestyle. It is a decision we make about the way we live each day and handle the variety of issues and choices and temptations that come our way. It is a path we choose, for better or worse.

You must be kidding!

2006-11-14T15:39:00.000-06:00

Did I hear that correctly? Did Rosie O’Donnell really say that “radical Christianity is just as threatening as radical Islam in a country like the United States”? Of course everyone is entitled to their opinions – you just wish they engaged their brains before they spouted them out.

Rosie, when was the last time a Christian terrorist strapped on a bomb vest and blew himself up in a crowded shopping mall to retaliate against women wearing shorts? Perhaps I missed the news flash about the Baptist who gunned down the Methodists as they came out of church on Sunday morning because they sprinkle instead of immerse. I don’t drive down the street afraid that radical Christians have planted IED’s that may detonate as I drive over them on my way to work. Come to think of it, I don’t remember a Christian using his Christianity as an excuse for violence in this country. (I know that history is filled with abuses throughout the centuries – but Rosie confined it to “a country like the United States.” And I know that people who have worn the name of Christian have engaged in violent behavior, but never in the way Islamic terrorists do in the middle east.)

I don’t see radical Sunni Moslems setting up food kitchens to feed the starving Kurds in northern Iraq. I don’t see Islamic terrorists establishing battered women shelters or orphans homes to care for the helpless of their own in downtown Baghdad. I have yet to see Iraqi missionaries setting up hospitals and free medical clinics in downtown Memphis to care for Christian homeless people. (Ironically, Memphis’s hospitals are named Baptist, Methodist, St. Francis, St. Jude… hmmm…)

The good that is done in this country, and that is done in most of the rest of the world is done by “radical Christians” who have taken seriously the call of God to go into all the world with the message of love through Jesus Christ. It’s not a two-way street. It’s unilateral. American Christians continue to do good, in spite of ridicule, abuse, rejection, persecution and death – both at home and abroad.

It’s a shame that celebrities like Rosie have a venue to spew their bigoted hatred and ignorance without having to be accountable for their words. As Erma Bombeck once said, “Don’t confuse success with fame; Madonna is one, Helen Keller is the other.”

Alive Again

2006-11-13T09:20:00.001-06:00

It's been an incredibly busy couple of weeks, and blogging just seems to drop further and further down the priority ladder - sorry about that. Here's my latest installment in Luke, entitled "Alive Again" from Luke 8:40-56. Thanks for dropping by!

It was tempting just to skip over these two stories at the end of Luke 8. After all, we’ve already seen Jesus heal the sick and raise the dead. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a hundred times. And perhaps that’s part of our problem – we’ve been there, done that. We don’t marvel at these incredible displays of compassion and power because we’ve come to expect it. We’re lulled into a sense of ho-hum-ness that jades our sense of awe and wonder. But these two stories have the power to rekindle all that...

“Jesus returned” --Luke begins with a reminder of the previous stories about Jesus calming the storm, and the healing of the Gerasene demoniac. With a word, Jesus calmed the storm and demonstrated his authority over the physical world. With a word Jesus demonstrated his authority over the spiritual world and took a man whose existence was a living hell, cast out a legion of demons, and gave him his life back. Now, they have returned to the Galilee side of the lake where the people are once again waiting for him.

And once again, like the story of the Centurion in Luke 7, whose servant was dying, a man comes to Jesus with an urgent request – his daughter was dying. His name was Jairus, and he was the ruler of the synagogue – an important man – a man who, being in Jewish leadership, was probably feeling the pressure to close his doors to Jesus. But in his moment of desperation, he swallows his pride and comes to the one man he believes can help him.

Luke says he “fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading” with Jesus to come. Back at the house, the mourners have already gathered and are beginning to wail. His time is short, his need is great. It’s now or never – please Jesus, don’t delay, let’s go.

Have you ever been that desperate? Have you fumbled with the phone trying to dial 911? Have you watched your baby turn blue and cried out to God not to let him die? This isn’t a when you get around to it request, this is so urgent he is pleading with Jesus to come.

It’s his girl – his only child – she’s 12 years old and the apple of their eye – a daddy’s girl. She had been sick for a week, gradually getting worse - they had been praying - but this morning suddenly her fever skyrocketed, her breathing became shallow, and she slipped into a coma. They couldn’t wake her, they couldn’t cool her – they were losing her. And that’s when he knew – he had to go find Jesus. He had heard what Jesus had done for others, and he didn’t care what the Pharisees said, if Jesus could help his daughter he was going to go to him. If it meant they threw him out of his own synagogue, he didn’t care – if only Jesus could save his daughter.

And so here he is, stumbling as he pushed through the crowd, one hand gripped around Jesus’ sleeve and pulling him along with him. “Out of my way, coming through, my daughter is dying!”

What happens next would tear your heart out – if you hadn’t already heard the ending. “Only a couple of blocks to go – hold on baby, hold on, Jesus is coming!” Then suddenly as if someone had slammed on the brakes, Jesus stops. “Jesus, why are you stopping? We’ve got to get to my daughter!” Jesus says, “Who touched me?”

Put yourself in Jairus’ sandals for a moment – when Jesus stops in the middle of a crowd to ask “Who touched me?” I would be on the verge of panic and rage. Everybody looks around, nobody knows what he’s talking about. Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.” (As if to say, “Everybody is touching you!”) But Jesus is adamant – “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

You see, we have two stories of desperation going on here. We usually tell one and then the other and everything turns out fine. But Luke intertwines them in a way that we have to see the desperation of both of them, and Jesus’ equal concern for both. So, let’s not hit the pause button and think that Jairus is patiently waiting as Jesus takes care of another situation. Jairus can’t believe his ears. His baby girl is dying and Jesus wants to know who touched him?!?! How would you feel at this moment? Have you been in the ER and can’t get a doctor’s attention? You wouldn’t be there if it weren’t serious, but you’ve been sitting there for over an hour and the receptionist won’t even give you the time of day – “take a seat, sir, and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Have you ever been that frustrated and scared? Multiply that times 10 and you have Jairus.

But let’s leave Jairus for a moment, out of his mind with panic. Luke tells us that in the middle of this crowd, through which Jairus and Jesus are pushing, is a woman. She, too, is a desperate woman. Hers is not an urgent desperation, but a last chance kind of desperation. Luke says she had been bleeding for 12 years – she was hemorrhaging – always bleeding just a little, never healing. She had been to every doctor she could find, spent every dime she had to get help, but no one could cure her. She was so severely anemic her body could never catch up producing enough blood to keep her from feeling on the verge of death. And because she had a flow of blood, she was considered “unclean.” She couldn’t go to the Temple, couldn’t worship in the synagogue. Others couldn’t touch her or they too would be contaminated and unclean. She became an outcast and a recluse. Her life too was a living hell. Twelve years she had endured this.

She, too, had heard about Jesus’ power, and she knew that this might be her last chance. And so she had come to find him, pushing her way through the crowd, hoping against hope. Her spirit is so crushed, her ego so fragile that she doesn’t even dare to ask for Jesus’ attention. All she dares to hope for is to touch the hem of his cloak. But so strong is her confidence that if she can merely brush his robe as he goes by, that will be enough.

Suddenly, the crowd has turned and he is coming toward her. She is getting jostled and pushed and people are shoving her out of the way. Jesus is almost past her, when she makes one last desperate lunge and with her outstretched fingers she touches his robe.

And what happens next is like a scene out of the Twilight Zone. You see, as she touches his robe two things happen:

She immediately feels the bleeding stop and her body heal. Don’t ask me how – that’s what Luke tells us. If Jesus could feel the power go out, we could safely assume that she felt the power come in. And suddenly, twelve years of misery has miraculously ended.

She had never intended for the second thing that happened. She had hoped just to touch him and disappear into the crowd. But just as suddenly as she is healed, Jesus stops. And when Jesus stops, the crowd stops. And Jesus’ eyes are piercing through the crowd and he’s asking “Who touched me?” She is trapped, she can’t get away. His eyes scan the crowd and come to rest on her and fearfully she admits, “It was me.” Luke writes, “Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed” (vs. 47).

What Jesus says to her is a confirmation of what drove her to him in the first place. She was expecting to be rebuked or condemned or scolded for being so presumptuous. How dare she take what she had no right to. And she cowers – like the woman caught in adultery in John 8, she is exposed and vulnerable and fearing the worst. But instead, Jesus said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.” She had heard of his kindness and compassion – she truly believed in his power – and everything she had heard was true. And she walks away a new woman.

How long did all this take? If you are Jairus, an eternity. Jairus has watched all this unfold, knowing that his daughter’s life was hanging in the balance and frantic with panic. “Jesus, please, hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Even as Jesus was still speaking, someone arrived from the house of Jairus. And with a look that said it all, he spoke – “Your daughter is dead, don’t bother the teacher any more.”

The words that every parent fears have been spoken – “Your daughter is dead.” And this loving father’s knees buckle and he bursts into tears. But Jesus catches him on the way down and whispers in his ear, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.”

The man who has just been pushed off the cliff of despair grabs the outstretched hand of hope and hangs on. Wordless, they push through the crowd to Jairus’ home where the mourners are wailing and the mother is weeping and the child lays lifeless. Jesus pauses and says, “Stop wailing, she is not dead but asleep.”

If you are wondering whether Jesus was speaking literally or figuratively, just wait a moment. I suspect that his intention is figurative. They have seen death before – this is it. Perhaps he intends the same effect as when he will speak with Martha and tell her that Lazarus will live again. Jesus sees death as a toothless thug who goes around terrorizing its victims. He has come to put it in its place. And so he takes its power away – “she is only asleep.”

They laugh – not a belly laugh at a good joke – but that nervous laugh when someone says something so inappropriate you are embarrassed for them. Jesus doesn’t get it – she’s dead – they all know it. How can he make light of things at a time like this?

Jesus takes the mother and father and Peter, James and John in the room with him and closes the door. (This is the first of many times that Jesus will take these three alone with him – the Mt. of Transfiguration, the Garden of Gethsemane – his closest friends and disciples.) The six of them gather around this little girl and Jesus says, “My child, get up!”

Now the reason I know she was really dead is that Luke says, “Her spirit returned.” She may not have been in the tomb four days like Lazarus, but her spirit had departed, and her life was gone. But Jesus once again demonstrates his power even over death and says, “My child get up!” and she does. To further convince them of her complete revival, he tells them to get her something to eat.

And then we listen in as Jesus tells them what he has told others before, but which I assure you they completely disregarded. He ordered them not to tell anyone what had happened. Right! As if they could keep from telling something like this! Perhaps Jesus attempts to forestall the inevitable. We have already seen how difficult the crowds have made it for him to move about freely, how they will soon be clamoring to make him king - this will only make it worse. And so Jesus tells them, “Don’t tell anyone” – knowing that they will tell everyone. And as soon as that little girl walks out the door, those mourners who had been wailing, then laughing, will soon be gasping, then cheering. And the word will spread, and he will be one step closer to his final confrontation.

Tomorrow?

2006-10-31T10:04:00.000-06:00

It’s always a little (a lot?) intimidating to look into the future and guess at what it may hold. I applied for some more life insurance the other day. I’m glad that my wife will be more financially secure when I die, I’d just rather not make her a rich woman anytime soon :-).

We make plans for what we’d like to do, places we’d like to visit, things we’d like to see – but there is always that favorite little acronym of conferences, “TBD” attached to those plans. There is a contingency clause on everything in life. James talked about it. He reminds us to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”

Even Jesus put a contingency clause on his future: “Not my will, but thine…”

So, do I live in uncertainty and hesitancy with every decision? Should I put my life on hold for fear that tomorrow my plans will come apart at the seams?

Even in the face of an uncertain tomorrow, God promises a confidence in today. It is a faith that understands that while our plans might change, God’s never does. That in spite of my uncertainty, God knows exactly what is going to happen. I have to trust him to “work all things for good.”

That requires a flexibility that feels a little foreign to a guy who likes his routine. I have to keep putting my feet forward with the assurance that the ground will rise up to meet each step. It always has. Even when I have felt the most uncertainty, God has provided every single time. Sometimes it didn’t look like the future I had envisioned – but what God came up with has always been better than my original. So, in some ways, I have come to look on uncertainty as an adventure – though I can’t see around the bend in the road, I anticipate that the destination will be something that only God could have come up with. And if he’s in charge of my future, that’s good enough for me.