. . . and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple-- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.
- Matthew 10
It is easy to get discouraged by modern trends in society, and international affairs.
We wonder "What can I do," and want to give up, because the task seems so daunting.
But as so often happens, Jesus wants the best for us. The barriers that we put in the way of our own spiritual development, are our own barriers. If we have not found God's will for our lives yet, chances are it is because we don't want to.
Even if you give a cup of water to a needy child . . . just one . . . you have made an enormous dent in the problem. That one little deed is so important, that it gets noticed by the Master, and contributes to our eventual standing as immortal beings.
And yet . . . for so many of us . . . one small cup of water, to one needy child, is more than we do in a day, a week . . . even a year.
The task is not that daunting. Someone within the sound of your voice needs a little help . . . right now. Develop the ears, and the eyes, to notice. Because chances are they have already found you.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Without Passion, No Sin
Do not let sin exercise dominion in your mortal bodies, to make you obey their passions.
- Romans 6
We're always looking for people that approach life, or their work, with "passion." The word "passion" denotes a type of behavior that is carefree, almost out-of-control. You are so immersed in the moment, that you lose your sense of time. Your careful judgment goes out the window, and you are operating purely on impulse, and instinct.
In sports and many professions, and in the performing arts, this is a good thing. It is called getting "into the zone." Through years and years of training, you become so expert at something that you can execute without even thinking about it. This is "good" passion.
But Paul here makes a distinct connection from sin, to passion. Really, now, sin is meaningless if it doesn't have something to do with controlling some desire that we find it hard to resist. Sin really starts with a passion for something. A food we must eat. An insulting comment we must make. A lie we must tell. A sex-related act we must experience. First it sounds good, then we start picturing ourselves in the middle of experiencing the sin. We know it would be a mistake, but we want to do it nevertheless. We start finding ways to justify it.
It wouldn't hurt anybody.
I can't help it, I was born that way.
It will lead to a good outcome.
I deserve it.
This is the exception.
It's actually God's will that I do this sin.
Our first impulse was the correct one: it's wrong. Don't do it.
And we know that sin is a problem, because it leads to death. All sins are based on selfishness. But God wants selflessness. If you want to be Christ-like you have to start dealing with those passions, that motivate you to do wrong.
And this is the victory. When we conquer our sin, we can rejoice. We have put our own desires, our own sinful passions, aside, so that we can serve others, and be more like Christ - more outward-focused.
And you never regret the trade-off of meeting the needs of others, in return for controlling your own passions.
- Romans 6
We're always looking for people that approach life, or their work, with "passion." The word "passion" denotes a type of behavior that is carefree, almost out-of-control. You are so immersed in the moment, that you lose your sense of time. Your careful judgment goes out the window, and you are operating purely on impulse, and instinct.
In sports and many professions, and in the performing arts, this is a good thing. It is called getting "into the zone." Through years and years of training, you become so expert at something that you can execute without even thinking about it. This is "good" passion.
But Paul here makes a distinct connection from sin, to passion. Really, now, sin is meaningless if it doesn't have something to do with controlling some desire that we find it hard to resist. Sin really starts with a passion for something. A food we must eat. An insulting comment we must make. A lie we must tell. A sex-related act we must experience. First it sounds good, then we start picturing ourselves in the middle of experiencing the sin. We know it would be a mistake, but we want to do it nevertheless. We start finding ways to justify it.
It wouldn't hurt anybody.
I can't help it, I was born that way.
It will lead to a good outcome.
I deserve it.
This is the exception.
It's actually God's will that I do this sin.
Our first impulse was the correct one: it's wrong. Don't do it.
And we know that sin is a problem, because it leads to death. All sins are based on selfishness. But God wants selflessness. If you want to be Christ-like you have to start dealing with those passions, that motivate you to do wrong.
And this is the victory. When we conquer our sin, we can rejoice. We have put our own desires, our own sinful passions, aside, so that we can serve others, and be more like Christ - more outward-focused.
And you never regret the trade-off of meeting the needs of others, in return for controlling your own passions.
Faith and Big Families
I will establish your line for ever . . .
- Psalm 89
In the Old Testament, God definitely places a high premium on people building up large families. Listen . . . he truly, clearly, wishes for people to have very large families.
It is considered a very high blessing, indeed, if God says he will give you a line of descendants that will go on forever. Think about it.
As of about 1940, or thereabouts, the last living member of Abraham Lincoln's family died, leaving no descendants of our greatest President.
George Washington died, having never had any of his own children.
Now, these two cases really do not impact any of us personally. But chances are, discovering these facts about Lincoln and our second greatest President has most people thinking, "Hmmm, that's kind of too bad!"
One of my grandfathers had a great-grandfather that had something like 85 grandchildren. It takes a little over a century for a family growing at that rate, to reach a thousand. And if you could get those thousand to truly care for one another . . . well, that's one group that wouldn't need welfare, student loans, healthcare, or any of the critical social problems plaguing our generation.
When you have a lot of children, if you raise them lovingly and correctly, you would never have to worry about Social Security. Yes, think about it.
But what about overpopulation? We love to make fun of people with, like, more than five children. "Someone needs to tell them what causes that! Hahahah!!"
But I would put it to you, there is no greater act of faith than having children. As your resources get extended, you know that God will take care of things. Your growing family becomes ever more creative, ever more resourceful. And this would be true of the human population. If we had faith, we could count on the Lord to bring with our multiplying population, the resources to solve the attendant problems. (Perhaps the people that can mitigate the effects of overpopulation - through expansion of other resources, or space travel, or even by starting a powerful abstinence movement - keep getting blocked from birth, in one way or another).
But these are all just musings from an over-active mind. Let's leave it at this:
- God intends for us to have large families. At the very least . . . can we celebrate, and not mock, those that do?
- Psalm 89
In the Old Testament, God definitely places a high premium on people building up large families. Listen . . . he truly, clearly, wishes for people to have very large families.
It is considered a very high blessing, indeed, if God says he will give you a line of descendants that will go on forever. Think about it.
As of about 1940, or thereabouts, the last living member of Abraham Lincoln's family died, leaving no descendants of our greatest President.
George Washington died, having never had any of his own children.
Now, these two cases really do not impact any of us personally. But chances are, discovering these facts about Lincoln and our second greatest President has most people thinking, "Hmmm, that's kind of too bad!"
One of my grandfathers had a great-grandfather that had something like 85 grandchildren. It takes a little over a century for a family growing at that rate, to reach a thousand. And if you could get those thousand to truly care for one another . . . well, that's one group that wouldn't need welfare, student loans, healthcare, or any of the critical social problems plaguing our generation.
When you have a lot of children, if you raise them lovingly and correctly, you would never have to worry about Social Security. Yes, think about it.
But what about overpopulation? We love to make fun of people with, like, more than five children. "Someone needs to tell them what causes that! Hahahah!!"
But I would put it to you, there is no greater act of faith than having children. As your resources get extended, you know that God will take care of things. Your growing family becomes ever more creative, ever more resourceful. And this would be true of the human population. If we had faith, we could count on the Lord to bring with our multiplying population, the resources to solve the attendant problems. (Perhaps the people that can mitigate the effects of overpopulation - through expansion of other resources, or space travel, or even by starting a powerful abstinence movement - keep getting blocked from birth, in one way or another).
But these are all just musings from an over-active mind. Let's leave it at this:
- God intends for us to have large families. At the very least . . . can we celebrate, and not mock, those that do?
The Difference
But I put my trust in your mercy.
- Psalm 13
The 13th Psalm starts down the path of a person headed for agnosticism. It begins with self-oriented questions.
"Oh God - - - why won't you listen to me?"
"Lord, why isn't my life working out?"
"Father, can't I get a break?"
We've all been there. We know what the Psalmist is talking about. "I thought if I had the faith of a mustard seed, I could move mountains! Why can't I even pray for a good job, and it happen?" And quite likely, most people have studied this question and understand well the lesson it makes about real faith. Mustard seed faith trusts in the elements, in the rain and sun, in the gardener. It does it's task and accepts the outcomes. This is real faith.
But if we don't keep the right perspective about misfortune and how it related to our faith, we may find ourselves doubting, more and more. "How can God do this to me?" Becomes "How can a loving God allow the starvation of children?" And next thing you know, you're an intellectual that's too smart to believe.
David kept his bearings. After his spell of self-pity, he always comes back to "But I will trust in God anyway."
And this is the difference. It's the difference that kept his faith rock-solid. And after the kind of life David had, to still trust in God anyway . . . well, that may very well be more miraculous than the moving of a mountain.
- Psalm 13
The 13th Psalm starts down the path of a person headed for agnosticism. It begins with self-oriented questions.
"Oh God - - - why won't you listen to me?"
"Lord, why isn't my life working out?"
"Father, can't I get a break?"
We've all been there. We know what the Psalmist is talking about. "I thought if I had the faith of a mustard seed, I could move mountains! Why can't I even pray for a good job, and it happen?" And quite likely, most people have studied this question and understand well the lesson it makes about real faith. Mustard seed faith trusts in the elements, in the rain and sun, in the gardener. It does it's task and accepts the outcomes. This is real faith.
But if we don't keep the right perspective about misfortune and how it related to our faith, we may find ourselves doubting, more and more. "How can God do this to me?" Becomes "How can a loving God allow the starvation of children?" And next thing you know, you're an intellectual that's too smart to believe.
David kept his bearings. After his spell of self-pity, he always comes back to "But I will trust in God anyway."
And this is the difference. It's the difference that kept his faith rock-solid. And after the kind of life David had, to still trust in God anyway . . . well, that may very well be more miraculous than the moving of a mountain.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Peace? Yes. But first...
As for the prophet who prophesies peace, when the word of that prophet comes true, then it will be known that the LORD has truly sent the prophet. - Jeremiah 28
This is an interesting thing to ponder. Apparently, we should listen to "doom and gloom" people and hold in suspicion those that preach peace.
Now don't get me wrong. Jesus obviously is the Prince of Peace. And our hope is wrapped up in the promise that there will be Peace on Earth. And we can bring that Peace today, if we model it.
But when compared to other scriptures and prophecies that talk about people with "itching ears," and that there is never a shortage of preachers giving us what we want to hear, it makes you put stuff back into some balance. A steady diet of "Everything's great! You're wonderful! If God had a refrigerator your picture would be on it!" is giving people the wrong message.
When I was going through a divorce, I felt like the "feel-good" stuff, ("What doesn't kill you makes your stronger," "Move on," etc.) was way off the mark. It never made me feel better, or stronger, or ready to move on. Rather, I wanted to hear that a wrong had committed. I wanted affirmation that divorce happened because there is sin in the world; because we are a lost and dying race. Only then did I begin to feel better. Because, only then was I being fed the cold hard facts.
Yes, our message is one of love, peace, and forgiveness. But what good is love, unless we have identified hate? Why have peace, if we keep ignoring the presence of war? Why forgive, if we haven't even mentioned sin?
A few years ago, on Christmas Eve, Matt Hook preached a sermon, in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shootings, on the theme of "It's worse than we thought. Merry Christmas." It was the most memorable Christmas Even service in twenty years of attending them. Why? Because now we could understand Peace on Earth.
All will be well. Our young people will come home. Our country will be restored. Peace will return. Life will go on forever.
But first, let's not turn away from the pain and sadness all around us, that desperately requires God's intervention . . . through us.
This is an interesting thing to ponder. Apparently, we should listen to "doom and gloom" people and hold in suspicion those that preach peace.
Now don't get me wrong. Jesus obviously is the Prince of Peace. And our hope is wrapped up in the promise that there will be Peace on Earth. And we can bring that Peace today, if we model it.
But when compared to other scriptures and prophecies that talk about people with "itching ears," and that there is never a shortage of preachers giving us what we want to hear, it makes you put stuff back into some balance. A steady diet of "Everything's great! You're wonderful! If God had a refrigerator your picture would be on it!" is giving people the wrong message.
When I was going through a divorce, I felt like the "feel-good" stuff, ("What doesn't kill you makes your stronger," "Move on," etc.) was way off the mark. It never made me feel better, or stronger, or ready to move on. Rather, I wanted to hear that a wrong had committed. I wanted affirmation that divorce happened because there is sin in the world; because we are a lost and dying race. Only then did I begin to feel better. Because, only then was I being fed the cold hard facts.
Yes, our message is one of love, peace, and forgiveness. But what good is love, unless we have identified hate? Why have peace, if we keep ignoring the presence of war? Why forgive, if we haven't even mentioned sin?
A few years ago, on Christmas Eve, Matt Hook preached a sermon, in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shootings, on the theme of "It's worse than we thought. Merry Christmas." It was the most memorable Christmas Even service in twenty years of attending them. Why? Because now we could understand Peace on Earth.
All will be well. Our young people will come home. Our country will be restored. Peace will return. Life will go on forever.
But first, let's not turn away from the pain and sadness all around us, that desperately requires God's intervention . . . through us.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
My Son
...God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.
- Genesis 22
The account of Abraham's journey with his only son Isaac, to offer him up as an offering to God, per God's instructions, is wrought with pathos, and allusions to the future offering up of God's own, and only Son, on the cross.
As Isaac carried the wood for his own fire, so Christ carried the wood for his own crucifixion.
As Isaac was laid across an altar and tied down to it, so Christ was bound to the Cross.
As Isaac's father willingly proceeded to offer up his son, so God willingly offered His Son.
One act involved the obedience of a father, to God. The other involves the obedience of a son, to God.
I like to draw as many parallels as I can, between Christ and great heroes of the Old Testament. Abraham was the father of Israel. Jesus was the Father of the Church.
Abraham found favor, because he obeyed God. Christ found favor, because He obeyed God, the Father.
Isaac was Abraham's only son (of the promise, from out of a marriage). Jesus was God's only Son. Isaac was the second Son in order of birth. His brother Ishmael was born to a servant of Abraham. Jesus was the Second Son of God. His brother Israel was born from out of the Law, which bound us to sin and death.
But I love the words spoken from Abraham to Isaac. He said, with the innocence and trust of a child: "God will provide." And then he closes with, "My son."
We hear a lot of talk about the "culture of death" in Society today. We live in a throw-away world where anything that becomes inconvenient to us can be just disposed with: a marriage, a job, a friendship ("unfriend" on Facebook), a pregnancy. We make it all so very easy, and guilt-free. But there is also a "culture of Life." We worship life and youth. Yet . . . mortality is a given. It is a reality. In the end there's nothing we can do to extend our own lives. We worship life, and act like it never ends. But with the eternal view, by seeing things with the eyes of Christ, or of Abraham, we can act as though death really is not the end for us. We can take steps considered courageous, or even crazy: We can place our own child on an altar of sacrifice, fully prepared to finish the deed. During the Dark Ages, when people of faith were being persecuted and martyred all the time, the most faithful parents urged their young children to stand firm, and not to renounce their faith in Christ.
I heard about a Sunday School class, of middle aged people whose children had mostly reached at least the teen-aged years. The lesson was on obedience. The question came up: "What would you do if your child said he wanted to enter the foreign mission field?" To a person - at least those that spoke up - the response was "I'd try to talk him out of it." What? This is a statement that is decidedly lacking in faith.
When we get to eternity; when the day of Judgment has come and gone and we begin the life that is never-ending, I am certain we will look back on this life and wonder why we were so worried, so scared, so totally lacking in faith.
Why not just proceed, as Christ did, as Abraham did? Do we really believe there is a life after this? Do we really believe that God has called us to do whatever it takes to feed the hungry, house the homeless, care for the widow, protect the orphan? If so . . . then what are we worried about? And what are we waiting for?
God said "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." Abraham said, "Son . . . God will provide."
There are few words, more tender, in all the English language, than "Son." When you call someone "son" it means that you see yourself in that young man. You have connected yourself with him in the most confident, comfortable, and caring way.
"Son" means . . . it will be okay. For I am there with you.
Indeed, for eternity.
- Genesis 22
The account of Abraham's journey with his only son Isaac, to offer him up as an offering to God, per God's instructions, is wrought with pathos, and allusions to the future offering up of God's own, and only Son, on the cross.
As Isaac carried the wood for his own fire, so Christ carried the wood for his own crucifixion.
As Isaac was laid across an altar and tied down to it, so Christ was bound to the Cross.
As Isaac's father willingly proceeded to offer up his son, so God willingly offered His Son.
One act involved the obedience of a father, to God. The other involves the obedience of a son, to God.
I like to draw as many parallels as I can, between Christ and great heroes of the Old Testament. Abraham was the father of Israel. Jesus was the Father of the Church.
Abraham found favor, because he obeyed God. Christ found favor, because He obeyed God, the Father.
Isaac was Abraham's only son (of the promise, from out of a marriage). Jesus was God's only Son. Isaac was the second Son in order of birth. His brother Ishmael was born to a servant of Abraham. Jesus was the Second Son of God. His brother Israel was born from out of the Law, which bound us to sin and death.
But I love the words spoken from Abraham to Isaac. He said, with the innocence and trust of a child: "God will provide." And then he closes with, "My son."
We hear a lot of talk about the "culture of death" in Society today. We live in a throw-away world where anything that becomes inconvenient to us can be just disposed with: a marriage, a job, a friendship ("unfriend" on Facebook), a pregnancy. We make it all so very easy, and guilt-free. But there is also a "culture of Life." We worship life and youth. Yet . . . mortality is a given. It is a reality. In the end there's nothing we can do to extend our own lives. We worship life, and act like it never ends. But with the eternal view, by seeing things with the eyes of Christ, or of Abraham, we can act as though death really is not the end for us. We can take steps considered courageous, or even crazy: We can place our own child on an altar of sacrifice, fully prepared to finish the deed. During the Dark Ages, when people of faith were being persecuted and martyred all the time, the most faithful parents urged their young children to stand firm, and not to renounce their faith in Christ.
I heard about a Sunday School class, of middle aged people whose children had mostly reached at least the teen-aged years. The lesson was on obedience. The question came up: "What would you do if your child said he wanted to enter the foreign mission field?" To a person - at least those that spoke up - the response was "I'd try to talk him out of it." What? This is a statement that is decidedly lacking in faith.
When we get to eternity; when the day of Judgment has come and gone and we begin the life that is never-ending, I am certain we will look back on this life and wonder why we were so worried, so scared, so totally lacking in faith.
Why not just proceed, as Christ did, as Abraham did? Do we really believe there is a life after this? Do we really believe that God has called us to do whatever it takes to feed the hungry, house the homeless, care for the widow, protect the orphan? If so . . . then what are we worried about? And what are we waiting for?
God said "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." Abraham said, "Son . . . God will provide."
There are few words, more tender, in all the English language, than "Son." When you call someone "son" it means that you see yourself in that young man. You have connected yourself with him in the most confident, comfortable, and caring way.
"Son" means . . . it will be okay. For I am there with you.
Indeed, for eternity.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Why Pentecost Won't Happen for Us This Year
When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place.
- Acts 2
I could spend a full page here diagramming the above sentence, from the Second Chapter of Acts. I could define "disciples." And then we would go into depth into each of the following very important words:
"were"
"all"
"together"
"in"
"one"
"place"
But that would not make more powerful and profound, the simple point. They were together, in unison, in agreement, in one place . . . one . . . place . . . together.
And powerful things happened. Wonderful things. Miraculous things.
But on Pentecost Sunday, 2014, powerful, and wonderful, and miraculous things won't happen, because every single town in the world will have more than one Christian group, and they will not be together.
If we want to change the world and really be impressive, we need to get back to Acts.
- Acts 2
I could spend a full page here diagramming the above sentence, from the Second Chapter of Acts. I could define "disciples." And then we would go into depth into each of the following very important words:
"were"
"all"
"together"
"in"
"one"
"place"
But that would not make more powerful and profound, the simple point. They were together, in unison, in agreement, in one place . . . one . . . place . . . together.
And powerful things happened. Wonderful things. Miraculous things.
But on Pentecost Sunday, 2014, powerful, and wonderful, and miraculous things won't happen, because every single town in the world will have more than one Christian group, and they will not be together.
If we want to change the world and really be impressive, we need to get back to Acts.
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