HOW To Care About Politics: Concise Thoughts

Do you and I have the courage 

to admit that the biggest enemy 

of the gospel

and of God's Kingdom 

has NEVER been the ones 

with political power; 

but rather, 

the greatest enemy of the gospel 

and of God's kingdom

has ALWAYS been 

Christians who are 

un-Christlike?

The gospel flourished and spread 

under the reign of Nero, 

the Christian-butchering madman. 

The Kingdom of God

 flourished in underground churches 

all over the communist nations of the world, 

in the face of intense persecution and martyrdom.

The gospel can flourish and spread 

under whoever our new president may be.

 ###

IF we understand that the 

Kingdom of God can flourish 

no matter who is president, 

BUT we're still so upset about politics 

that we're willing to dump Christlikeness 

in favor of sinful attitudes and actions, 

in pursuit of political power, 

THEN we have no choice 

but to conclude that 

we aren't prioritizing the Kingdom of God at all,

but rather our own kingdoms, 

and we're rebelling against the One who told us to 

"Seek first the Kingdom of God, 

and His righteousness, 

and all these things will be added to you."

###

Lord, 

please forgive us 

for reviling others in Your name, 

instead of showing others that 

Your love and Your strength are enough 

to give us peace, and joy, and endless hope

no matter what!

Please forgive us 

for bringing such dishonor to You 

by being fearful, depressed by circumstances, 

hateful, spiteful, vengeful, and power-hungry. 

Who would want the god of people like that, 

when they can behave the same way 

(and sometimes better) 

with no god at all! 

Please help us 

to ask ourselves hard questions 

about why we act and feel as we do, 

and what it says about 

the powerless "little-g" god 

we so often believe in, 

when we should be exulting in 

the God of Calvary, 

and of the empty tomb, 

and of the coming Kingdom 

that shall never pass away! 

How different 

would this world be 

if we really lived 

(and talked, and Facebook-posted) 

from faith in our big-G God 

who reigns over all 

the circumstances of our lives?

Please make it so, Lord Jesus.

Please revive Your people.

Keep Your Eyes On The... Leftovers?

Jesus feeds the 5,000 

John 6:5-9
Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?”  He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?”

It's a really good thing that I wasn't one of the disciples there that day.  If I had been, the Bible would have had one more facepalm-inducing groaner of a story.  It would have read something like this:

"But Betsy, being faint with hunger, and being of little faith and great self-centeredness, snatched the loaves and fishes away from Andrew and devoured them herself, reasoning that she would need lots of sustenance for herself first, if she was to be expected to feed everyone else."

Milennia of Christians would shake their heads as they read my story. "How could she be that dense and selfish?"

How indeed?  How have I reached the ripe old age of fifty without learning to consistently trust that God will meet my needs when I minister to others? When will I learn that He takes care of those who obey his command to think of others first?

But notice the timing of God's provision.  The disciples got basketfulls of leftovers to eat... after they served food to everyone else.  I don't mean to imply that that's always how He does things, but it does make me wonder:  How many blessings have I missed because I waited for God to do a miracle before I was willing to act...while He was waiting for me to step out in obedient faith?

It's harder to step out when you don't see the provision first.  Put yourself in the disciples' dusty sandals. Can you imagine how difficult that must have been at first, listening to your own stomach growling while you portioned out food to others?  

I've been serving alongside You, Lord!  These people are just moochers.  I've given up everything for You, but what have they given up?  Not lunch, that's for sure.  No,  I'm the one who has to give that up!

There was no wine on hand, but if I'd been there, there would have been plenty of whine!

I wonder what Jesus would have done if I'd devoured the loaves and fishes.  He probably would have created food from scratch and had us serve it.  But when it came time for the disciples to enjoy the leftovers, I wonder if there would have been a basket for me.  Or would Jesus have looked into my eyes with loving rebuke and said, "You preferred what you could snatch greedily for yourself, and I let you have it.  But that's all.  The other disciples who weren't greedy get the miraculous provision that only I can give.  And what I can give is always more satisfying than whatever you can snatch for yourself."

Maybe not. He's so much more gracious than we expect Him to be. But getting nothing more than my stolen, faithless meal is what I would have deserved.

But the Lord is gracious in more than just feeding empty bellies. He feeds empty souls and enlightens darkened minds, too.  And I can only hope that He would have worked a miracle in my heart if I'd been there that day.  I can hope that, by His grace, the rumblings of my stomach would slowly have been drowned out by a song of awe-filled praise as I saw His miracle flowing through my fingers.  I can hope that my once-grasping hands would have begun to delight in giving and giving and giving; in being part of the wonder of His lavish grace.

The good news for me and you is that He still teaches the same lessons today. He still wants us to understand that He enriches us so that we can be generous (2 Co 9:11).  He still commands us to look not only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others (Php 2:4).  He still promises to supply all our needs (Php. 4:19).

And He doesn't just teach us about physical provision for physical needs.  Perhaps more importantly, His provision is the only hope we have for not sinning when our emotions are hit hard.  When our personal bank of compassion and/or forgiveness is running dry, but we still need to give.

As I've been writing this, I've also been made aware of someone's terrible behavior which caused great undeserved pain to good people.  Again.  It's a pattern with this particular person, and he happens to be someone for whom I bear some responsibility.

I feel my soul starting to grasp again.  Not for bread or fish, but for other things I feel desperately in need of.  

• Power.
• Control.
• Some way to get through to him!
• Some way to make him feel how much I despise his behavior.
• Some way to compose the proper words of wrath that will (despite James 1:20) somehow produce the righteousness of God.

Why am I desperate to grasp these things?  Because I don't see miraculous provision yet.  I don't have what it takes to fix this person, and so far, God hasn't fixed him either.  

Since writing the above paragraph, I've had a chance to talk to that hurtful person.  I told him I didn't know what to say, but that he and I both know how capable I am of saying sinful, hurtful things, and that I don't want to do that.  I've told him I'm praying and keeping my mouth shut until I know how to say something edifying (Eph. 4:29-32).  And I've reminded him that such restraint is exactly what I so often tell him to practice.  I admitted that I needed to do a better job of modeling, of practicing what I preach.

I suggested that he pray about his sin.  And then I got back to work, trying to serve in quiet trust while praying for help.  Trying to do what Jesus says to do.  Because that's how the disciples fed the multitudes.  They obeyed with what little they had, and watched Jesus do the rest.

Unlike the demands of that ancient mountainside picnic, my needs relative to this particular person's challenges will probably last for many years.  I probably won't see a definitive solution today.  So it's my job to obey, to try to serve in love, to walk according to the light that I have, and to trust God's timing, day in and day out, for as long as it takes.  

I need to trust Him that whatever he gives me today is sufficient for today, even if it doesn't feel like it.

And if my heart is bent on loving, serving, and obeying, I'll be ready for more concrete guidance and provision when/if it comes.  But if I harden my heart and insist on futilely grasping for power in sinful wrath, how will Christ bless anyone through me?

Lord, I've got nothing.  In my flesh dwells no good thing.  But by Your grace, may I serve, may I give, and may I hold out for Your leftovers, knowing that Your leftovers are more soul-satisfying than self's greediest fare.

P.S.  Thank You, Lord, for the edifying conversation that you made possible later.  Thank You that You kept a hand over my mouth earlier, so I wouldn't spout off something which might have prevented that later conversation from happening.  You are so good!

A Hidden Danger of Individualism

"Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented— of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us." (Heb 11:35b-40)

What might be so precious to God that He might delay the fulfillment of His promises in order to achieve it?  Why would even the faithful martyrs have to die without seeing certain promises fulfilled?

According to the passage above, God has "something better" in mind for all of us; for the Universal Church all through the ages.

"That they should not be made perfect apart from us."

What does that mean?

God has existed eternally as One God in Three Persons, a union that Christians call the Trinity.  Because of His trinitarian nature, He has always known the bliss of perfect love and fellowship.  And He wants us to enjoy that kind of bliss, too.  He's wired it into us to hunger for oneness with each other and with Him...though with our sinful natures, we cannot achieve it very well on this earth.

But God invites us into an ever-growing fellowship with Him and with one another, and He planned our salvation before the foundation of the world so that we could enter into such fellowship at great cost to Himself.  Jesus prayed eloquently that we, the people of His church, would be one, as He and the Father are one (John 17:11).

Do you feel any kinship with the martyrs of old?  Do you consider yourself as part of one body with them?  Do you even feel any kinship with the martyrs of today around the world, our brothers and sisters?  Are you inspired by them as the "great cloud of witnesses" bearing testimony that Christ is worth whatever we lose in this life?

If not, you're probably a modern Western individualist.  And so am I.  And as such, you and I want to see promises fulfilled NOW.  What good is a promise if I don't see it fulfilled in my life!

God says it is "something better for us" if we wait for some of His promises to be fulfilled when we're all together, when the church as one body stands before Him in glory.  A great consummation.  A holy celebration.

Do you believe that?  Do I?

Could it be that the "fellowship of His sufferings" which Paul prized so highly (Php 3:10) is not just fellowship with Christ, but fellowship with all the members of His body who have suffered throughout all time?

Because of our individualistic mindsets, we miss a great source of patience, hope, and fellowship.  We fail to see that some of the promises may wait until after our deaths, but that doesn't make them any less precious.  We may see some promises only from afar; in fact, they may not have earthly fulfillment until multiple generations have come and gone (Heb 11:13).  But unlike the heroes of old, our faith staggers when we don't see fulfillment almost as quickly as we see our meals prepared by our microwaves.  We lose heart and become discouraged because what doesn't happen for me seems worthless to me.

"By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites (something which would not happen for nearly 500 years), and gave directions concerning his bones" (Heb 11:22, parenthetical comment added by me).

We can't see past our own noses, much less past our own lifetimes.  "If it's not here in time for ME, it's too late!"

When we begin to get a glimpse of the grand scale of God's design, of His plan, of His Kingdom purposes, it will free us from so much of our impatience and doubt.

"Posterity shall serve him; it shall be told of the Lord to the coming generation; they shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn, that he has done it."  (Ps. 22:30-31)

Do you have a heart for future generations which you'll never see?  Do I?  Or is it all about us, "right here, right now?"

"And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us."

They were made to wait, and it was for our good (both theirs and ours), so that we can one day celebrate together at the fulfillment of all things, in a blissful fellowship like only the Trinity knew before.

It really isn't all about me.  Or about you.  And when we begin to get the long view, may it free us from the tyranny of self.

I Can Do What Things?

English: Saint paul arrested (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The great Apostle Paul said, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

So why didn't he pray up an earthquake to rescue himself from prison every time he was in there, like the one that rescued him and Silas in Philippi?

Why didn't he power his way out of floggings and stonings?

Why didn't he just keep those ships afloat instead of suffering shipwreck two times?

Why didn't he pull together a slick presentation that wowed everybody's socks off and made everybody fawn over him, instead of being slandered, beaten, hated, and drummed out of town all the time?

C'mon, Paul, why didn't you do those things?  Don't you know what you wrote?  Don't you know "all things" means ALL THINGS?  You should be healthy, wealthy, and loved everywhere you go!

You should be enjoying your best life now!

But what if "all things" doesn't mean "everything we want?"  Everything we think is best?

Does "all" always mean "Anything in the universe," or does God say "all" within pre-defined parameters?

When I took my little kids to the store and (on rare occasions) pointed to the candy display and said, "Pick whatever you want," was I inviting them to rush away to the sporting goods section and pick out a bike?  Of course not!

What are our parameters?  What are the limits of God's "all?"

Paul knew what God's power in his life was for.

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Php 4:11-13).

Paul knew that God's power was there to enable him to suffer well.  He also knew that God's power was there to enable him to receive God's pleasant gifts unselfishly, and to use them for ministry rather than for his own luxury.

And where did he get this perspective?  Do you remember what God promised when He told Ananias about His decision to save Paul and use him for gospel ministry?

"I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” (Acts 9:16)

"Well that's all well and good for Paul," you may say, "but God never said anything like that to me!"

Didn't he?  Have you ever read Luke 6:20-36?  Were His disciples lying to the suffering Christians in Acts 14:22?

Jesus probably hasn't told any of us what we're going to suffer, but He has promised us that we will suffer (John 16:33).

So if "all things" doesn't mean delivering ourselves from suffering, then what good is it?

It means that whatever God has put in your life, whether suffering or pleasure, He will enable you to turn both of these temporary things into eternal treasures as you endure or enjoy them with contentment.

"I have learned to be content in all circumstances...I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Christian power doesn't come by rebuking so-called "demons of whatever I don't like" (which we'd better be cautious about doing anyway, Jude 1:8-10).  It doesn't come by "naming it and claiming it" (2 Co 12:8-9).  

Christian power comes through the immovable strength of contentment in Christ Himself.  Contentment, in fact, is nothing more than the peace which comes from faith in a good and loving God who will "work all things (including suffering) together for the good of those who love Him" (Rom 8:28).

Contentment strengthened Paul to go back to minister in places where his life was threatened.

Contentment strengthened Paul to sit in a dank, filthy prison, chained to guards night and day, with his back lacerated by brutal whippings, and to write epistles which overflowed with love, praise, and joy.  And every time we read Paul's epistles, we who love God are still receiving the promised "good" which God brought from those incredible sufferings.

Will you pray for the faith-filled contentment which is the only thing that will empower you to love and serve and praise and rejoice in the midst of your tears and tiredness?

Godliness with contentment is great gain indeed (1 Tim 6:6).

When God's Covenant Looks Like It Died

I'm on bedrest again. 3rd time in a decade.

Between a heart attack (2004), hysterectomy and repair of prolapses (2011), and now deteriorating disks pinching nerves and causing foot pain, my body has betrayed me often.  (Spinal surgery may be necessary. Prayers appreciated!)

I know I am a child of the Covenant of Grace, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I also know that this covenant has nothing to do with making my life a bed of roses.

Considering that this life is microscopic compared to eternity, I don't want my best life to be NOW!  So I have a lot of peace about this... certainly much more than I had in 2004 when I only had religion, and no relationship with Christ!

But still, it's easy for us to feel we can excuse a certain amount of spiritual wandering at times of hardship, isn't it?  God promises grace to endure, but I'd rather have escape than endurance, thank you. 

So the old familiar idol of escapism rears its many seductive heads, tempting me to forget my troubles... and to forget seeking to love God and my neighbor, too!  How easy to want everything to revolve around my quest for comfort!

Looking at Genesis today, I was struck by the bizarre-seeming covenant-cutting ritual in chapter 15. Could there be anything more foreign to modern Western eyes?

But as I think about it, I am even more struck by the image of Abram chasing away carrion birds which kept trying to pick apart the animal carcasses... those bloody, nasty carcasses which God had ordained to be signs of the covenant (Gen.15:11). 

Carrion birds are often used to represent satanic forces.  And don't the enemy's minions love to swoop down and tear up all visible evidences of God's promises to us?

How often do God's promises look like ugly, dead things to us? What beauty or hope did Abram have to look upon in those mutilated animal carcasses? And how relentless would those carrion birds have been! How frustrating and discouraging to have to keep chasing them, non stop, for who knows how long!

I would have been tempted to walk away, but Abram stayed and chased the birds away, over and over again.

If Abram had allowed the birds to pick apart the bodies, wouldn't the signs of the covenant have become hideous and loathsome in his eyes?

So, when he chased them away, he preserved the integrity of what he had to look at. 

Do I have carrion birds in my life? What do they look like?  I believe I know.  

Doubt, distraction, anger, self-rule, lusts of various kinds, discouragement, fear, irritability... these things don't merely indicate understandable human weakness. No, if unrepented of, they can distort my view of God and His covenant promises, until even the physical evidences of His truth can begin to seem like ugly, worthless corpses.  The carrion birds tear them apart.

But in Abram's story, even without carrion birds, the dead bodies would have become loathsome on their own, just through the process of decay while he waited for God. In the same way, the process of waiting for God makes the promises lose luster in our eyes, unless we continue to see them through the eyes of faith.

Lord, help us to recognize those carrion birds as they appear in our own lives, and help us to resist them tirelessly by Your Spirit (because we can never do it in our flesh).  Help us to remember that Your covenant promises are all about resurrection, so even when things seem dead, there's hope!

Help us to seek to love You with all our hearts and souls and minds, and with all our strength, no matter how long You see fit to delay, or how many carrion birds of temptation we have to fight off. In Jesus' name, amen!

Scenes From the Spiritual Gym (A Farce That's All Too True)

Scenes from the Spiritual Gym

(Part 1 of a Series)

(Photo credit: jackiebese)

At one of thousands of branches of the American Church Gym:

"Good morning, sir (or ma'am).  What are your spiritual goals, and how can I help you achieve them?"

"Well, I haven't been having my quiet times regularly enough.  I looked in the mirror the other day, and my 'quiet times' abs aren't looking much like a six-pack anymore."

"Oh, well, we can't have that, now, can we?  So, to help us get to know you a little better, please tell us which coaching model you prefer:

• The legalistic accountability partner who motivates you by fear and guilt
• the warm-fuzzy, 'you're not so bad,' coach
• the highly-inspiring 'cheerleader' coach

"Um...well, I guess whichever one will help me reach my goals the fastest.  I really hate these flabby 'service' muscles in my arms, and this fat 'self-control' abdomen!"

"Oh boy, I sure do understand that!  Well here, let's try one kind of coaching approach, and if you find that that's not helping you reach your goals, we'll try a different one, okay?"

"Sounds good!"

"Now, to get us started, let's step in front of that spiritual mirror.  Let's chart what you see compared to what you hope to see, and then we'll know what goals you'll want to pursue."

"Makes sense.  But I'm a little uncomfortable with all the mirrors in here.  Doesn't that seem...I don't know...egotistical or something?  Aren't Christians supposed to be humble?"

Mirror (Photo credit: Chapendra)

The coach laughs and waves a dismissive hand.  "Oh, don't be silly. The Bible says we're to examine ourselves, right?  And how can you do that without a mirror, or goals, or other Christians to compare yourself to?"

"Well, I guess the Bible does say that.  But ugh, I HATE mirrors!"

"Oh, don't worry, we'll whip you into shape in no time, and pretty soon you'll be so spiritually buff that you'll LOVE mirrors!"

"But...but...what about humility?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, either.  We'll keep reminding you.  Humility is one of those spiritual goals, after all, right?  So you just remember to repeat to yourself every day as you look in the mirror, 'Yes, I've still got a ways to go, but by the grace of God I'll be more spiritually buff tomorrow, and then I'll have more to praise Him for!'  That's the key to humility, you know.  The more spiritually buff you become, the more humble it is to scoff and say, 'Oh, no, God did this for me.'  Your 'humility pecs' will pop for sure!"

"So it's a win-win, I guess.  I get to like what I see in the spiritual mirror, and I get to say things that give Jesus the glory!"

"Exactly!  Now you understand the Christian life!"  The coach gives you a wink and an elbow-nudge.  "Don't those 'Praise Jesus' T-shirts look better and more convincing on a hot bod?"

You laugh, and you have to admit that it's a convincing argument.  But there are still some things that you don't understand, so you keep asking questions.

"Okay, well, pardon my dumb question, but what exactly is 'sin?'"

"Oh, well, sin is forgetting your spiritual goals, and not working on them.  You know, not doing quiet times, not putting money in the Salvation Army bucket, that sort of thing."

"And repentance?"

"That's easy!  Repentance means recommitting yourself to your goals!"

"And what is faith?"

"Why, faith is believing that Jesus will help you reach your goals, of course!"

"What is worship, then?"

"Worship is praising God for helping you reach your goals.  And besides, he likes praise, right?  Who doesn't?  So worship helps motivate him to help you reach your goals!"

"Then who is Jesus in this whole process?"

"Well, think of him as your Invisible Fitness Coach.  When you're looking in the mirror, he's looking, too!  If you're getting more and more buff, he smiles more and more.  If you're being naughty, he starts to frown.  But don't worry."  Another dismissive wave of the hand.  "He's very forgiving.  Just say 'I'm sorry,' and promise to do better next time.  It's all good."

"Okay, I think I see it all now.  Let's get to work!"

"Whoo, I love that spirit!  Let's make you look like you want to look, and be what you want to be.  Let's make you LOVE that spiritual mirror!"

So, you begin what you hope will be a lifetime of buffing up under the eye of Jesus, the Invisible Fitness Coach.  But you dread his gaze, and you hope you can buff up quickly.

You look around yourself at the guys and gals who have bulging muscles everywhere.  It's obvious they've been doing targeted toning, so that they've reached a point of fashionably grotesque physiques. The kind of bodies that actual, productive physical labor never forms.  Their bodies are consciously-sculpted gym bodies.

You have to admit, they impress you, and you know that a "Praise Jesus" T-shirt looks a lot better on them than it does on you.

Come to think of it, they inspire you much more than your Invisible Jesus guy.  He's a mystery, but they're clear.  And you like them better...at least some of them...the ones who think you're worth their time, and who will notice you and encourage you.

After a while, the Invisible Coach makes you even more uncomfortable to think about than he used to. Why? Because not only is he judging your buff-ness, but you also have a sneaking suspicion that, if you could see Him, He wouldn't look anything like the pec-poppers around you.

And that means (HORRORS!) that you suspect He wouldn't look anything like what you're trying to become.  And that makes you vaguely angry.  What does he want from you anyway?  You're not sure, but you know what YOU want from yourself.  You know what YOUR spiritual goals are.  You know which part of you you want to sculpt next.  And you know that it has something to do with reading your Bible every day and doing good works (especially the specific types of good works that are most heavily promoted by your branch of the gym).  So you just keep going, following the coaches you can actually see.

Zulfiya Chinshanlo World Champion 2009  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the end, you'll love yourself, and either forget the Invisible Coach, or find that the highest praise you can give Him is, "Look at how awesome he made me!"

Or, you'll hate yourself and the coach, because it was all just too hard, and everybody in the gym is a hypocrite anyway.

Welcome to the Christian life.

Or not.

Stay tuned...

Next:  Scenes from the Sheepfold

When God Says, "Go Back There"

Imagine the scene, if you will.

Your name is Avram, perhaps, or something similar.  You're a middle-aged Hebrew wanderer, finally getting ready to enter the Promised Land.

All of your life you've heard about this land.  You've stared longingly across the forbidding Jordan at its verdant beauty...so far out of reach of your desert abode.

You've heard of your parents' rebellion against the Lord, which stopped your national progress and doomed you to decades of wandering.  You've heard about the miracles they saw, but you were so young when they happened that you don't remember them yourself.

You have experienced daily miracles yourself:  A pillar of cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night, each of which guides your nation in its wanderings.  You've seen bread fall from Heaven every day, without fail, except of course for the Sabbath...but the bread always fell in double portions on the day before the Sabbath, so you could gather extra then.

But these miracles have always been there, as far as you're concerned.  They're kind-of humdrum to you.

Now Moses, the great Man of God, has died, and Joshua is in charge.  And the 40-year exile has reached its end.  It's time to enter the Land of Promise.  That means, for starters, that it's time to do battle with the mighty city of Jericho.

But the even mightier Jordan River lies between, and to make matters worse, it's currently in its flood stage.

Were the old stories of the Parting of the Red Sea really true?

Could it happen again, even without Moses?

You're almost ashamed to admit how amazed you are when it does happen again.  Your jaw drops at the sight of the turgid wall of water piling itself up.  That wall is trembling with unimaginable power, held back only by forces you cannot see or comprehend.

And you have to walk in front of it...you and a few million others.  Including your wife and your children.  You look at them now, so weak and vulnerable next to the forces that threaten them.

And you have to lead your whole tribe, because you've inherited (and risen to) a position of power in that tribe.  So, you square your shoulders, hide your fear from your wife and kids, and step onto the now dry river bed.

The water-wall beside you seems like a raging stallion, eager to break out of its restraints.  And yet you walk.  Your mouth is dry, and you hope the Almighty can forgive your fear.

He promised, and He's done this sort of thing before.  We will get safely through.  We will.

And, finally, you do.  You turn to look back at the hordes which are still coming, and at the priests who stand along the way as God's representatives, almost seeming to hold back the walls themselves (but you know they're not the ones who can do that).  There they stand, though, and you don't envy them.  You couldn't get through that trial fast enough.  It was a creepy place to be, and you're glad you came through it in one piece.

Finally, the last of the nation has crossed, except for the priests, who still stand their ground.  And then Joshua calls all of the tribal leaders together.  You go to him, expecting your orders to advance toward Jericho.

But no.

He says, "Go back."

What?

"Go back."

Go back into the danger zone, back into the place that so recently filled you with awe and fear, back into the trial you thought you were done with.

You can't believe your ears.  Why would we do that?

"This is what the Lord has commanded.  Go back into the heart of the Jordan and gather stones, one stone for each tribe, and bring them back to set them up as a memorial for future generations, so no one will forget what happened here."

You don't argue.  This is, after all, the man whose word had just parted the waters.  You don't play at dueling words with such a man.

So, you and eleven other men walk back into the place you just escaped from.  You feel even more vulnerable now, in such a small company of men. Just the other tribal leaders and, of course, the priests at their posts.

You don't rush.  You can't.  You know your job.  You've seen stone memorials before, and you've appreciated the skill that it takes to build one that will stand for generations to come.  You recognize that you have to get a rock that is not only very large and heavy, but also one that is suitably shaped for its purpose.

You have to spend a fair amount of time finding a good candidate, conferring with the other rock-gatherers until you all agree that the twelve stones you've found will work well together.

And all the while, the Jordan quivers against its restraints.

You hadn't wanted to be here once, and you still can't believe you're here again.

Why aren't we invading Jericho?  That's what we came across to do, right?  Why are we wasting time back here?

But finally, bending under your heavy load, you trudge back to where your family and tribe and nation await. You make eye contact with each priest as you pass him, and you nod.  His burden is greater than yours, and you know it.

At last you're back with your tribe, and you can drop your heavy burden on the ground.  You straighten up with some difficulty, and for some reason you can't stop yourself from looking back at the Jordan yet again.

I made it through.  Not once, but twice.  

And God held the water back each time.

You look back down at the stone you've carried. It's good that we have these stones.  It's good that our people will always remember.

And now, amazingly, you're glad that you were one of the few who had the privilege of walking that road again.

#####

Has God ever made you revisit a scary place that you thought you were through with?

Maybe it was a real, physical journey.  Or maybe it was a journey of remembrance, a journey of telling others, of setting up your own memorial.

What was that like for you?

Could it be that you're still standing on the banks, afraid to step in again?

If you've been called to revisit the painful place, please look again.  What...or rather whom do you see?

There is not a row of priests there, like there was in the Jordan.

No, there's something better. Someone better.  The Great High Priest.  Jesus.  The One who held back the waters the first time, saying "This far, and no further."  He is still holding the ground you gained.  He's also on the shore beside you, and also at the Jericho that awaits.

And He knows, dear brother or sister, that you can better face your Jericho if you remember your Jordan.  If you revisit His faithful deliverance through it.  If you look Him in the eye and nod as you bring back your memorial stones.

Do it.

Trust Him.

He's still there.

And finally, a word to those of you still in the middle of your first scary trek.  Those of you who can't even imagine getting through the first time, much less coming back for a stone.  My word for you is this:  Don't worry that you don't have a heavy stone on your shoulder right now.  The command to fetch it hasn't come yet.  It won't come until you're safely through.

Please don't hear this harshly.  Please hear it as gently as I mean to speak it.  You're not qualified to set up a memorial yet.  It's not that you have to prove your qualifications...oh no!  Your trials are never about you proving yourself to God, or even to yourself.  Your trials are about seeing God holding the waters back. Your trials are about seeing God's power and His deliverance.  So if you haven't yet seen the salvation of the Lord, how can you talk about it?

If you have no memorial stone with you yet, just keep walking and trusting Him.  The day will come when you'll be able to come back and get one.

And you'll be glad you did.

For Those Who Can't Walk on Water Either

Sarah Trimmer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

"Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?"

Was Jesus rebuking Peter for lacking the faith to keep walking on the water?

That's the way I've always heard it, but now I wonder.

You see, I've had a life full of sinkings.  So many sinkings that I rarely get out of the boat.  And I'm less likely to get out of it if I think that my next drubbing will be rebuked by Jesus because... terrible failure that I am... I can't do the impossible.

Is the Christian life a process of learning to walk on the water?

I wonder.

Years ago I wrote something that I knew I needed to read again this morning.  (I hope you'll read it too, and I'll link to it so you can.)  I said,  "What if 'arrival' has nothing to do with reaching a certain level of perfection, and everything to do with maintaining the kind of humble, childlike faith that expects nothing from itself and relies totally on God?"

I really believe that that's true.  Please do read the article I linked to above, for more reasons WHY I believe it.

Whole sermons have been written about Peter's lack of faith causing him to sink.  Because of that mindset, people strive to grow stronger faith, and when they're faced with stormy seas or risky situations, they can only see two options.

• Proudly step out, believing their faith to be mighty enough
• Stay in the boat, believing that they haven't yet achieved a strong enough faith.

What if neither of those options are right?  What if the "proudly stepping out" is just that...religious pride rather than true faith in Christ? And what if the "staying in the boat" is a sign of spiritual failure?  What if both are wrong, and neither is right?

UGH!  Before long you can start running in circles like a terrified rabbit, and you give up on this "faith thing" because it just drives you nuts.  You can't do it.  You can't figure out which is right!  You can't figure out your own motives!  You can't see any way to step out in faith or to stay in faith, because you can see sin in yourself either way.  So you get paralyzed.  

To that I say (both to you and to myself):

STOP IT!

Right now, just STOP IT!

Jesus didn't say to any of the disciples, "Why did you stay in the boat?"  And I don't believe he said to Peter, "Why did you sink?"

For what doubt did Jesus rebuke Peter?

Will He rebuke you, too, if you step out of your safe place, and you start to sink?

No, that's not my Jesus.  More importantly, that's not the Biblical Jesus...the Jesus who is tender towards the weakest, the lowliest, the most helpless.  He does not break the bruised reed (Matt 12:20).

There are several accounts in the Bible of Jesus saving the disciples from stormy seas.  In the one we've been looking at, Jesus walked on the water to the boat, and Peter walked out to meet him.  In another case, Jesus was asleep in the boat, and they came and woke him up.  In both cases, they were terrified.

And in both cases, the rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?  Where is your faith?"

Maybe we've been asking the wrong question.  Maybe the question isn't, "Why did Peter sink?"

What if the right question is, "Why did Peter fear that Jesus wouldn't save him when he sank?"

Remember, in both stormy situations, for the disciples both in and out of the boat, the question was the same. The gentle, loving rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?"

Why do you and I doubt that He will save us when we are sinking?  Why are we making "in vs. out of the boat" the issue?  Why are we making "on top of the water vs. going under the water" the issue?

Are we to fear, in either location?

Was half-dunked Peter filled with less faith than the ones in the boat?  I don't think so.  All of them were afraid of going under, regardless of where they were when it happened.

Joyful, free faith doesn't have to examine its own perfection to see whether it should get out of the boat or stay there.  It doesn't say, "I'm disqualified from getting out of the boat, because I can spot sin remaining in myself and in my motives." It doesn't say, "Oh no, my sinking must mean that my faith wasn't strong enough!"

Joyful, free faith trusts Jesus no matter where we feel the water threatening to overwhelm us, even though we're not yet perfected, because HE is our Savior.

Why must we keep relearning that HE saves us?  Why do we keep thinking that we save ourselves by making our faith perfect enough, instead of believing that He saves people of little faith?

He is the Savior...not of the perfected, but of sinners (Luke 5:31-32)!  Why do we doubt?  He who saves those in the boat, will he not save those who walk out on the water and then start to sink?

Where are you in your walk?  Does Jesus want you to believe that you could be anywhere, anywhere where He cannot save you?

The life of faith is not a life of staying always on top of the waves.  It's a life of believing that you are free to walk with Him in humble-but-imperfect ways, without doubting that His love will pull you out of the water no matter where you are when you start to sink.

Because you WILL sink sometimes.  I guarantee it.  Life's billows WILL overwhelm you.

Cancer.  Loss of a loved one.  Betrayal.  Failure.  Injury.  Job loss.  Moving to an unfamiliar place.

You WILL sink sometimes.

The question from Jesus, I believe, is not, "Why did you sink?"

It is, "Why did you fear I would not be here to lift you up when you sank?"

So step out if you feel that's what God is calling you to do.  Don't question if you have enough faith to stay on the water.  Just believe that He will save you when you get wet.

And here's a final word of love to those who are currently under the waves, and have been there, perhaps, for a long time.  I am NOT preaching a despicable "prosperity gospel" (which I hate) here.  I am not saying that Jesus will always take the waves away.  His salvation is sometimes through the trials, not from the trials. Your pain does not mean He loves you less, or that you are a failure.  Trust Him, trust Him, that He will pull you out of the water when the time is right, when that part of your life's story has been written to perfection (even if that relief doesn't come in this lifetime).  Trust that He is your Savior, no matter where you are in relation to the boat, the water, or the other disciples. He will bring you to the right place because of your continued, trusting obedience.  Remember, as long as we're on this earth, it's a Christian walk, not a Christian arrival.

Trust Him, trust Him, trust Him, wherever you are, no matter how far you've gone under life's overwhelming forces.

That's a stronger faith than one which skips lightly across the waves.

The First Time I Hoped For A Good News Day

Photo by emsago

The First Time I Hoped For 
A Good News Day

Or:  

“How to Have a ‘Good News Day’ Part 2”

A few mornings ago I spent some time talking to one son about some of the mistakes I had made in parenting, and some of the bad habits that he and I had fallen into in our relationship.  I sprinkled some Gospel truth into the discussion, and the whole interchange was friendly and pleasant.  The morning routine ended up going fairly well.

As usual, after the kids left for school and I had breakfast, I read my morning devotionals and had some prayer time.  During that time, I was strongly moved with gratitude for all of God’s grace over the years in my life.  God’s sweetness felt truly amazing to me, and our time together was precious.

And, as usual, I hoped it would continue to be a “good day.”  Then that hope began to rise up as a sense of tension, of worry, of even a subtle demand toward God.  “I hope nothing bad happens” morphed rapidly into “Nothing bad had better happen!”

That was when God, for the first time, introduced me to my need to hope, plan, and pray for a Gospel-centered day in advance, instead of only applying the Gospel “as needed” if things got ugly.  This is what He impressed on my heart:

You want your son to understand and believe the Gospel, right?  
Do you think I want anything less for him?
Do you trust me that I know how to bring him to that point?
Do you remember that I had to bring you to a place of brokenness before you would repent and believe in me?
Are you going to demand that I not do the same for him?

That’s when I realized that I needed to hope, plan, and pray, NOT for a “good day,” but  for a Good News Day.  I needed to prepare my heart to live the truths of the Gospel no matter whether my circumstances turned out to be pleasant or horrible.  I needed to trust God that He was going to bring circumstances tailor-made for the kind of Gospel example (and perhaps even Gospel instruction) that my son would need that day.  
And it was not my place to tell God how to do His job.  It was my place to trust and obey.

So that’s what I prayed for.  Lord, help me to live the truth of the Gospel and to be prepared to speak that truth in love in whatever circumstances You wisely bring my way.  I am willing to be a tool in Your hands for the sake of my son, rather than trying to usurp Your throne.  Of course, I would LOVE it if You arranged pleasant circumstances, and I ask that You would do so if that would be best for my son.  But I yield to Your better judgment.   As Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, “Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.”

It was a whole different mindset.  And I had a lingering suspicion that He was not planning a pleasant set of circumstances for us.  But it was okay.  It was okay.

It wasn’t long before the phone calls started coming.  The school is a very good one, and the staff are wonderful, but by the second phone call it was clear that I had to come pick my son up.  He was suspended for the rest of the day.  Deservedly so.

Of course, that was not happy news.  Of course it was scary to go pick him up in the dean’s office, and even hear the dean somberly tell my son that, if he continued his current trajectory, they might have to think about expulsion.

But the Gospel tells me that we’re ALL hopeless without the Savior.  So I’m in no position to think myself superior, or to get up on my high horse.  In other words, the Gospel requires (and enables) me to be humble.

And the Gospel tells me that God so loved us that He gave His only begotten Son, Jesus, to bridge the gap between man and God.  Jesus came to live a perfect life on our behalf, so that those who are united to Him by faith could have His righteousness credited to our account.  In other words, the Gospel gives me REAL hope to offer to someone in an increasingly hopeless-looking situation.

And the Gospel tells me that Jesus died to absorb the wrath of God on behalf of those who are united to Him by faith.  (It also tells me that His wrath remains stored up for those who will not believe.)  In other words, the Gospel gives me the proper perspective on sin (it really IS heinous), and does not belittle my concerns about the things my son is doing wrong.  But for those who come to Christ in faith, all of that is dealt with.  Real hope for real sinners.  The kind of hope that a sinner like me can gladly share with another.

And, the Gospel tells me that Jesus rose from the dead in order that all who are united to Him by faith might also have new life.  It also tells me that He sends His Holy Spirit as a seal on the hearts of those who put their faith in Christ.  This Spirit changes our spiritual DNA, if you will.  He begins to change us from the inside out.  The Spirit within us is our ONLY hope for real change.  My anger can’t change anyone.  That fact used to only increase my anger, fanning it to a helpless rage.  But with the real hope of the Spirit to offer, it’s safe to lay the rage aside.

So, when I talked to my son that day, I had Gospel truth with me.  Truth that enabled me to be brutally honest about the awfulness, of sin, but without arrogance or rage because I’m a fellow sinner.  It enabled me to offer real hope, to point my son to all that Christ has done for us on the cross, and to what He offers us now as mediator.  It gave me the priceless promise of the indwelling Spirit to share.  All things I’d talked about before, but that needed to be said again.  After all, I need to be reminded of these truths multiple times a day as well.

My son responded in ways that seemed hopeful, though I can’t know his heart, of course.  But the Gospel allowed me to come away from a painful experience with no regrets.  I know that I gave my son the best that I had to give.

I knew I wanted more Good News days.  After all, I’ve got plenty of regrets about my selfish “good days.”  That kind of living was yielding me a bitter harvest.  I wanted to put it behind me.

But the Enemy of Our Souls doesn’t let go.  Ever.  Until, of course, we go to Glory.  So he attacked viciously after this hopeful experience.  But that’s something for another entry.

How to Have a "Good News Day" - Part 1

Photo by Marcelo Terraza

How to Have a “Good News” Day

Part 1

Laying the Foundation

It’s a bad habit of mine to expend a lot of time and make a lot of compromises in order to get what I call a “good day.”  You know the kind of day I’m talking about … all pleasantness, few responsibilities (at least, few that I can’t ignore), and plenty of enjoyable things to do.  Plus, of course, having everyone around me cooperate with my selfish plans.

Oops.

As you can imagine, my “good day” plans get smashed rather often.  And I tend to not be pleased about it.

What’s the solution?  Should I struggle to get more control over those around me, so I can force my plans on them?  But what about people and circumstances I can’t control?

Maybe I should just give up in cynical despair.  If I can’t give myself a good day, and God doesn’t seem to be bending over backwards to make life a bed of roses for me, what’s there to hope for?

Ghastly, isn’t it?  Yet I’d have to say that most of my adult life has swung between those two options.  Godless, self-centered, unloving, miserable options.  Sure, the ugliness has slowly gotten less pronounced as God has worked on my heart these past few years, but a lot of this nonsense has remained in my heart.

But, just within the past few days, I’ve been getting acquainted with an exciting new option.

What if I trade in my “plans for a good day,” not taking cynicism in exchange, but rather choosing instead to make plans for a “Good News day?”

What is a Good News Day?

If you’ve spent much time around Christianity, you probably know that the word “Gospel” is taken from the Greek for “Good News.”  And the more I learn about the Gospel and how it relates not just to salvation but to everyday life, the more I realize that I need to aim for Good News Days every day.

Good days, by my selfish definition, are often impossible.  Please bear with me as I explain...not for the sake of “complaining about my problems,” but just so that you, dear reader, won’t think I’m talking to you from my castle in the sky.  

My day-to-day life is complicated by such family funzies as Asperger’s Syndrome, full-blown autism, bipolar disorder, the teenage hormones of three boys, and all the ordinary challenges of family life.  One of my teens has been in a really bad state of rebellion lately, and has been getting in lots of trouble at school.  My husband’s job requires lots of odd hours on phone conferences with people halfway around the world, and frequent trips that last for weeks at a time.

To top it off, I deal with chronic back pain and occasionally recurring cardiac pain (despite being on daily cardiac meds since a heart attack in 2004).  Years and years of severe internal problems finally culminated in major surgery in November of 2011, which (thank the Lord) cleared up a lot of problems, but some pain still recurs.

So no, no ivory tower here.   And few entirely “good” days.

But every day could have been a Good News day, if I had only known.  Lately I’ve been having them.  And I know I always can have them.  Not because I’ve become an overnight expert in some divine secret, but because God gives a continuing supply of the good news freely to anyone who understands and believes in its simplicity.

A Good News Day is a day when the Gospel shapes my beliefs, my hopes, my plans, my actions, my interactions, and how I deal with sins and failures (both my own sins and those of others that impact me).

I’m finding that Good News days can be full of bad things, painful things, disappointing things...even failure.  And yet, at the end when I look back at them, they’ve lost their sting.  What once would have beaten me down no longer has that kind of power.  (Which, now that I think about it, is an answer to my regular prayer that I wrote about here, based on 2 Cor. 4:8-11.  Thank You, Lord!)

Have I become a stronger person?  No, not really.  I’ve just found the inexhaustible power of the Good News.

How have I found it?  Well, for years I’ve been steeping myself in excellent books like Future Grace, Holiness By Grace, Transforming Grace, Because He Loves Me, Give Them Grace, and many more.  (Please get these books and savor them if you can!)  The glorious truths in these books have gone a long way towards helping me change my hindsight.  They have helped to heal many of my hurts, by teaching me to look back on them through the lens of Gospel truth.  This is true for long-ago hurts and hurts from just a moment ago.

But that is only half of what they were designed to teach me.  And because I only got that half, the retrospective half, I still lacked a lot of Gospel power.

I still have tended to PLAN and HOPE for “good days” (as selfishly defined), while only applying the Gospel to comfort myself if the “good day” didn’t happen.  

Without meaning to, I had lumped Gospel truth into the category of “consolation prize.”  I’d hoped to get the million bucks, and I’d tried my best, but I’d lost.  So I would gratefully (and a little ruefully) accept the parting gifts instead.  They were better than nothing.

Oh, how tragic it is when we fail to see the lavish gifts we’ve been given as the treasures they really are!

It’s time to start hoping and planning for Good News Days.  Such days are not second best, they are what it’s all about.  They are the days of gold, silver and precious stones that will survive the test of God’s purifying fire (1 Co. 3:11-15).

Let me say it again:

A Good News Day is a day when the Gospel shapes my beliefs, my hopes, my plans, my actions, my interactions, and how I deal with sins and failures (both my own sins and those of others that impact me).

In future entries we’ll look at how we can plan and hope for such days, how we can live them, and what they might look like.