The Sacred, Imperishable Gospel

I'm not sure what your feelings are regarding the longer ending of Mark (and if you have no idea what that means, well ... you might be better off). This really isn't the point of this post, but to give you a very brief understanding, the basic idea is that there are some ancient manuscripts that include additional material in this last chapter of Mark. And to be clear, none of this additional material has any real bearing on the authenticity and reliability of Scripture. It simply means that some of the copies include some additional commentary that some of the scribes decided to include and others did not. Some may have accidentally overlooked it, or some may have thought that it helped close the book with a little more clarity and cohesiveness.

Regardless of your opinion, there is, indeed, truth to be found in these additional verses. (And my point is not to argue for or against additional biblical material anyway). One of my favorites is the verse that follows verse eight in some latin manuscripts and is included as a footnote in many translations (including the ESV and NASB). It says,

"And after that, Jesus Himself sent out through them from east to west the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation."

I can't stop thinking about that verse this morning. And there are several points from this verse that stick out to me that we need to remind ourselves of today:

1. Jesus sent sent out the proclamation of the gospel through His disciples. -

The disciples were His mouthpiece. He actually went through them. It was His voice. His hands. His feet. His heart that was going.

2. It's a sacred proclamation. -

It's a holy message. A sacred proclamation because it's the most important message in the world. Christ's message. His life, death, burial and resurrection. It's holy. It's sacred. It is the words of eternal life.

3. It's an imperishable proclamation. -

It's imperishable because it's eternal. It's never ending. His word endures forever. It cannot be destroyed by any Bible-burning regime, or Christian-killing empire. It will last forever. It's imperishable.

Remind yourself today of the greatness of this gospel that we live and proclaim. As Jerry Bridges says, "Preach the gospel to yourself everyday." And this is an amazing verse to help you do that.

Go-Between Guy

When I read the OT account of the Exodus, and observe the constant ungratefulness, faithlessness, and overall rotten attitude of the Israelites, it’s hard for me not to get frustrated and perhaps a little self-righteous, as if I would have acted differently had I been there. But as I reflect internally and think about my own proclivity toward doubt and self-centeredness, I really can’t much blame these guys. If I’m honest, I’m no better than they were. And perhaps neither are you.

But when I read this account in Exodus 20, I can’t help but wonder when we dig beneath the surface a little, if perhaps their attitude was, in fact, purely motivated ... or at least in part. Here’s the passage:

Exodus 20:18-19 – “All the people perceived the thunder and the lightening flashes and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they trembled and stood at a distance. Then they said to Moses, ‘Speak to us yourself and we will listen; but let not God speak to us, or we will die.’”

Leading up to these couple of verses from Exodus 20, the Lord had just given the 10 Commandments to Moses and then proceeded to make Himself known to the entire Israelite camp, putting His awesome power on display through crashing thunder, an ominous blaze of fire, the mountain shaking on its foundation, flashes of lightening and the piercing sound of heavenly trumpets. And it was immediately after this display that the people turned to Moses with these words, “Speak to us yourself and we will listen; but let not God speak to us, or we will die.”

The result of this grand display of deity was fear, and rightly so, I suppose—fear that seemed to push them away from God, their deliverer, and propel them toward Moses, a mere man. And remember, the Israelites had just seen firsthand God’s mighty power at work to bring them out of the bondage of Pharaoh, through a dry corridor of ocean walls, and now His provision in the desert of manna, quail and water. But now, suddenly they want to deal with a man, not with God. They want an intercessor. They want a mediator—an arbiter—a go-between.

And though their overall attitude toward God, their Deliverer, was undoubtedly wrong at many ventures up to this point, I can’t help but wonder if part of their motivation in this case was purely rooted. They saw the awesome power of the Lord of Hosts, and probably wondered to themselves like the Psalmist, “Who can stand before Him in His holy place?” And so they looked to Moses. Right or wrong, they wanted a go-between guy.

People today want a go-between guy as well, but it’s more often not because they observe or understand the grandeur of God, but rather that they’re just too lazy to approach God on their own. So, they go to a local priest, or a pastor, or someone they believe has some sort of direct line to the “big man upstairs.” Someone who can do the job for them. When the moment comes that they need God, they find someone who can get the job done—someone who can help fulfill the sense of obligation they feel—someone who can appease the capricious god they’ve concocted in their imagination—someone who can help make their situation or circumstance better.

Job understood that he needed a go-between guy. But it wasn’t out of a sense of duty or obligation. It was because he understood that he couldn’t be made right with a holy God on his own. So, he prayed out of desperation, “There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both.” Almost prophetically, Job announced the coming of the Messiah. Job understood that he needed a God/Man who could both touch Almighty God and touch humanity simultaneously.

The Israelites tried to find an arbiter in Moses. I have Catholic friends who try to find an arbiter in the Pope. I met a woman in an extravagant cathedral in Romania weeping at the feet of a statue of Mary, trying to find an arbiter. I saw people in the streets of Travandrum, India, shooting off fireworks to wake the sleeping gods, trying to find an arbiter. I saw a man standing with his 3-year-old daughter at a Buddhist temple in Japan, teaching her how to present her offerings—teaching her how to find an arbiter.

All over the world, people are looking for their arbiter. When will we realize that He has come in the person of Jesus Christ? When will we help the misdirected individuals in the thick of our cultural milieu understand that Jesus is the go-between that they are looking for? God help us to start today.

What Happens Beneath the Soil

The Parable of the Sower (Mark 4:1-20) is definitely one of the most famous parables in Scripture. Next to the Prodigal Son, I think I’ve heard more sermons on the Sower than any other parable. But one thing I noticed from my journey through Scripture this week is the importance of this tiny little passage, the Parable of the Seed, just a few verses later in Mark 4. It’s almost an addendum to the Parable of the Sower, but it actually stands alone as its own separate thought.

26And He was saying, "The kingdom of God is like a man who casts seed upon the soil;

27and he goes to bed at night and gets up by day, and the seed sprouts and grows--how, he himself does not know.

28"The soil produces crops by itself; first the blade, then the head, then the mature grain in the head.

29"But when the crop permits, he immediately puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come."

Jesus describes the kingdom of God like a man who plants a seed, goes to bed, and then wakes up (continuous sleeping and waking in the Greek) to discover that the seed is growing. I love that next phrase—“how, he himself does not know.” I actually think Jesus was using a little humor here. Because the guy wakes up and wonders, “Hey, what’s that seed doing there?” As if he didn’t know what would happen. And I think the way Jesus words these few short sentences reveals the absolute impotence and powerlessness of the human agent involved in Kingdom work. It shows that apart from the work of the Spirit, our best effort is ridiculous. Our greatest endeavor is absurd. It actually reveals that the growth of the seed doesn’t depend on the sower at all. Yes, we must sow. Yes, we must water. And yes, some of us will reap. But it is God, the Holy Spirit who causes the growth (1 Cor. 3:6).

Taking credit for what happens beneath the soil could possibly be one of the biggest evangelical failures of our day. We are wired to take credit for things. The bent of our DNA is to receive and accept accolades and recognition. But God is calling us to return the credit to Himself, the One who indeed causes the seed to grow.

In fact, this should actually bring us some relief and reprieve, liberating us to preach, share, and live out the gospel without the weight of responsibility that we must do something to cause the seed to grow. In reality, we do nothing to cause the seed to grow. That is the work of the Holy Spirit. And where the fear of evangelism once paralyzed us from sharing this incredible news, the liberating truth of this parable should do the opposite. Because God, the Holy Spirit is the real agent at work while we are sleeping. And that reality alone should move us into action to accept the responsibility of seed-planting, and seed-watering, knowing that we leave the growth up to our sovereign God.

God's Glory on Display Through Our Trials

What if the whole point of hardship and trial was to put the glory of God on display? What if it was about the magnification and celebration of God’s glory?

I actually think it is. In Exodus 10, God explains to Moses the reason that He continues to harden the heart of Pharaoh, when He could have very easily softened his hard heart to allow the Israelites’ escape.

He says, “I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants, that I may perform these signs of Mine among them, and that you may tell in the hearing of your sons and grandsons how I made a mockery of the Egyptians and how I performed My signs among them, that you may know that I am the Lord.” (Ex. 10:1-2)

Here it is—the whole reason for the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart—the whole reason for the difficulty in fleeing Egypt—the whole reason for the hardship was so that God’s glory would be put on display—that it would be a lasting testimony of God’s faithfulness to His people—that future generations would know the faithfulness of YHWH, and as a result come to know Him.

So, what hardship are you enduring currently or what trial have just come through? And what would happen if you viewed the purpose of it in this way? To put God’s glory on display? Would it change your perspective and your attitude?

The Pure Kind of Godliness

As if there were an impure form, right? Well, Paul explains in 1 Timothy 6 that there were and are people who live like this other form of godliness exists.

³If anyone teaches a different doctrine and does not agree with the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching that accords with godliness, ⁴he is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing. He has an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, ⁵and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain. ⁶Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment." (1 Timothy 6:3-6)

Heresy seems to always be birthed out of pride. It's interesting that many of the modern biblical scholars-turned-skeptics of our day and of the 19th and 20th centuries were some of the godliest men you could find. But somewhere along the way, pride crept in and they began teaching a different doctrine that did not agree with the sound words of Jesus and the teaching of godliness. Maybe it was for financial gain so that they could have the newest liberal spin to pitch to a book publisher. Who knows? But somewhere along the way, godliness for them, was simply a means to gain. Not the gain itself.

To be clear, Paul says that godliness is a means to great gain ... when it is accompanied with contentment. It's dependent upon contentment. It's godliness in gospel terms. It's a resting in who Christ is and what He has accomplished on the cross. It's a not a godliness rooted in self-love; that's the impure kind, which in reality is not godliness at all. And that's Paul's whole point. Because genuine godliness is rooted in self-abasement and self-sacrifice. That's what the cross is all about. It's a contentment we find when we really don't care to know how often our name is googled. Or how many people are privy to our accomplishments. Or how much money we might make by bearing his name.

No, it's a contentment in Christ alone, for Christ alone, to Christ alone. May God help us to desire godliness in its purest form.

Looking Down

1 Timothy 4:12 - "Let no one look down on your youthfulness ..."

If this isn't the mantra for a younger generation of Christ followers, I don't know what is. Youth pastors belch it from their hip music stand podiums. Student workers and parents encouragingly and unwittingly pat our (notice that I included myself in the "youth" category) already inflated egos with statements like, "Don't let 'em look down on you! Go with God!" And other cheesy Christian expletives, as I like to call them.

The sincerity behind statements like these certainly can't be discarded or ignored. And the validity of the statement itself cannot be argued--it's God's Word, and it's true. The problem comes when this portion of a verse of Scripture stands precariously alone, while the remaining portions seem to be curiously forgotten.

What is the rest? you ask. Well, let's take a little gander here.

Paul says:

"... but rather in speech, conduct, love, faith and purity, show yourself an example of those who believe."

Here's where the rubber meets the proverbial road. We, the youth, want the respect of our elders. We don't want them looking down on your youthfulness. BUT we don't want the responsibilities that accompany our respectable youthfulness. We're all-too-often unwilling to be an example in speech, conduct, love, faith and purity. We want to scream the mantra of youthful respect from the mountain tops, but we don't want to live out the rest of this verse--or at the very least we pretend it's not there.

Paul says:

1. In speech - the incredible power of the tongue - James 3

2. conduct - how we act - what we participate in

3. love - toward each other and toward outsiders - giving to the poor - caring for orphans and widows - caring more about people's souls than we care about the possibility of ridicule and rejection

4. faith - we ought to blow people's minds by our faith-living - trusting God financially, medically, spiritually, etc.

5. purity - this is the one area that the enemy continues to attack with seemingly endless success. What the heck is going on? Gary Lamb, somberly proclaimed on his blog recently and in a letter to his church, "I am so sorry that I have given the cause of Christ yet another black eye." Black eyes are everywhere. The enemy continues to hammer away at the young men (and women) of God's kingdom--trying to render us useless and utterly ridiculous in the eyes of the world.

We can't expect honor and respect while completely ignoring the fact that we must show ourselves to be an example of those who believe--an example of what it means to follow Christ. Respect and honor must be earned. They're not given. There are too many of us lazy Christians wanting respect and honor with no semblance of Christian example anywhere in our ministry portfolio. Something's gotta give.

Thoughts About Itching Ears

2 Timothy 4:2-3 - "preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions."

It's interesting how history repeats itself. Even throughout biblical history. In Isaiah's day, the itching ear syndrome was in full effect.

"Who say to the seers, 'You must not see visions.' And to the prophets, 'You must not prophecy to us what is right. Speak to us pleasant words, prophesy illusions ... Let us hear no more about the Holy One of Israel.'" (Isa. 30:9-11)

Not a lot has changed in our own itching culture. We love the illusions. We love make-believe. We want fluff, not truth. We spit out the meat while trying to choke down the bones with a big smile on our face. Our itching ears fit perfectly with scratched throats.

The worst part about it is this: v. 15 of Isaiah 30 says, "But the Holy One says, 'In repentance and rest you will be saved. In quietness and trust is your strength ... but you were unwilling.'"

This has got to be one of the saddest statements in Scripture - "you were unwilling." Where quietness and trust, repentance and rest are absent, itching ears and damned souls follow. Matt Papa says it perfectly in his song "Woe to You."

Where is the justice? Who's preaching the truth?

Your sermons are entertaining and your churches are cool.

You're grieving His Spirit and you're winning the lost

To a worthless religion cause you don't talk about the cross.

Woe to you, woe to you.

And your gospel is tickling our ears to death.

Woe to you.

Meditation on Ephesians 1:19

“… that you will know … what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe.”

Why is it that we forget the greatness of God’s power toward us? Is it a preoccupation with other things? Distractions? Is it because our circumstances often cloud the reality that God is bigger than they are? Maybe all of the above. And I’m sure you could add to the list. Paul was writing to a group of Christians who needed reminding that God’s power working in and through and for them cannot be surpassed in its greatness. Paul’s prayer for them was that they would know, with an experiential confidence and assurance, that God’s power was always, ever-working for them on their behalf.

This morning I was reminded of this great truth, because I had somehow forgotten it in the busyness and chaos of life right now. I had forgotten to stop and meditate on His surpassing power. I forgot that He loves to prove Himself strong on my behalf. I forgot that His righteous right hand is quick to come to the aid of His believing ones—and that fact alone should completely change the way we see the world. When situations arise that are beyond our control, our perception of the greatness of His power should consequently affect the way we view our situation or circumstance.

Upon reflection of this verse I gut-checked myself with a few questions. Maybe someone else needs them as well.

• Do I really trust in the surpassing greatness of God’s power?
  
• Do I really believe that He is who He says He is?
• Do I really believe that He will do what He says He will do?
• Do I really believe He is all-powerful and can govern the situations of life in a way that brings Him honor and in a way that a loving Father would toward the children He loves?

The Sphere of Another

Maybe it’s southern culture. Maybe it’s just human nature. But, in general, people who take pride in their work want to be recognized for it, and rightfully so I suppose. If you put time, effort, sweat and tears into something and it turns out rather remarkably, maybe you deserve a little recognition. I mean, shouldn’t farmer Jones get a ribbon for his prized pig? Shouldn’t our president get a pat on the back for his new health care reform? (crickets) … anyway.

But what about in relation to the kingdom of God? What type of recognition for success is really acceptable? And just how do we measure success anyway? And beyond simple recognition, I think the more applicable question is, “Is it acceptable to boast our ministry successes to the world?” What if we, ourselves, are the ones making sure people take notice of our accomplishments? It seems commonplace these days to do so, because after all, we’re boasting in the God of our successes, right? Well, maybe some are. But maybe some are not.

In 2 Corinthians 10, Paul defends his apostleship before the church at Corinth, explaining that it was the Lord alone who made something beautiful out of a life ravaged by the sin of legalistic religiosity. And in the latter part of the chapter he explains his position on and spells out a model for boasting in ministry successes, a passage we would do well to let soak in. He says,

¹³But we will not boast beyond our measure, but within the measure of the sphere which God apportioned to us as a measure, to reach even as far as you.

¹⁴For we are not overextending ourselves, as if we did not reach to you, for we were the first to come even as far as you in the gospel of Christ;

¹⁵not boasting beyond our measure, that is, in other men's labors, but with the hope that as your faith grows, we will be, within our sphere, enlarged even more by you,

¹⁶so as to preach the gospel even to the regions beyond you, and not to boast in what has been accomplished in the sphere of another.

Notice what Paul is saying in these important verses. Paul was quick to recognize the work of God going on all around him that had nothing to do with him. He called them “spheres”—little areas of influence (probably both geographical and figurative) that God had generously given to certain individuals and churches. And Paul is explaining to the Corinthian believers (and probably more as a reminder to himself) that he would not and could not boast in the work accomplished by another, (or take credit for the work of another) because in the work of God there is no place for competition. Perhaps this is why he began the chapter by explaining that the battle they fight is not against the flesh, but rather it’s a spiritual battle for the minds and hearts of individuals (vv. 3-4). That’s why Paul refused to engage in petty conflicts over bragging rights. As far as he was concerned, they were all on the same team. They were all a part of the kingdom of God, fighting for the hearts and minds of lost souls. And they all had different giftings and responsibilities as he had already reminded them in another letter:

“I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth.” (1 Cor. 3:6)

And yet, this spiritual infection known as competition is pandemic among our churches and ministries. I see it constantly in Charlotte and around the east coast as I travel.

I was having breakfast with a pastor friend a few weeks ago in another city and he was describing to me some of the things going on in churches all around him. In fact, he said that he had a pastor in his area make this exact statement to him: “Nothing in our area will be able to compete with what we do on Sunday mornings!” I almost vomited my pancake breakfast in my mouth. If I hadn’t known the context in which he was speaking, I might have thought he was describing the aggressive nature of competing businesses. But he wasn’t talking about the business world. He was talking about churches.

A few years ago, while speaking at Catalyst Conference in Atlanta, Francis Chan, who has one of the fastest-growing churches in America in Simi-Valley, California, made this shocking, satirical statement. He said,

If Jesus had a church in Simi-Valley, I bet mine would be bigger. If the Apostle Paul had a church in Simi-Valley, I bet mine would be bigger. In fact, I bet that people would be leaving their churches to come to mine. Because I don’t call them to the same commitment that Jesus called them to. Jesus would have a crowd of thousands of people and by the time He was done preaching there were just a few left, and He would say, “You guys want to leave also? Because I’m gonna walk out here and you’ve gotta hate your father, your mother, your wife, your kids. And there might be a bunch of crosses out there and we’re just all gonna get crucified together. You wanna come with me?” That wasn’t real popular. And I thought, “Man, I’m more popular than Jesus! I can keep a crowd. I can keep ‘em interested … I can keep ‘em coming!”

Point taken. (Watch the whole thing here)

Why does it seem that we are more content with building our little castles of sand than we are with building the kingdom of God? And why do we continue to foster these feelings of competition when we’ve seen how disastrous they can be? When we look at church history, over and over we see the detriment it causes.

Few people know this, but it was actually George Whitefield, not John Wesley, who was the most instrumental in founding the Methodist denomination. Through Whitefield’s powerful and anointed preaching, thousands across the Americas came to faith in Christ during what came to be known as the Great Awakening. Whitefield’s friend, John Wesley, was simply better at organizing the people under one system or umbrella of doctrine. While Whitefield just wanted to preach the Gospel and see people come to faith, Wesley capitalized on the opportunity, for good or bad. Later, this conflict would create a schism in the long-time friendship of Wesley and Whitefield, but Whitefield never retaliated—never demanded recognition for being the rightful founder of the Methodists—never wanted to be noticed. Whitefield was about the Kingdom, not his kingdom.

Paul understood that God gives to each of us spheres of influence. And he determined not to take credit for another’s accomplishments for the kingdom, whether directly or indirectly. In fact, his hope and prayer for the church at Corinth was for their influence to grow. He said, “but with the hope that as your faith grows, we will be, within our sphere, enlarged even more by you.”

Pastors, are you praying for the success of the churches in your area? Do you boast in what the Lord is doing at the church down the street? Do you ask God to put a burning fire inside of the pastors in your area so as to preach with authority and conviction the timeless truths of the Word of God? Worship leaders, do you pray for your fellow worship leaders as they stand up each Sunday to sing the song of victory, that Jesus saves! Or do you secretly hope that they will stumble through their worship next week? Church planters, do you secretly wish for the failure of other church plants in your city? Are we so self-consumed and self-absorbed that we naively think that our church or ministry is the best thing that ever happened to our city, state, or sphere of influence?

If you consider your church or ministry successful, did you ever stop to think that the success you are seeing just might not be attributed to you? Could it be that the success you are seeing is because there were some godly men and women in generations past who spent hours upon hours on calloused knees to pray that revival would come to their town, to their city, to their state, to their country. Could it be that your achievements are the result of tired feet shod with the shoes of the preparation of the gospel of peace which tilled the soil and prepared the way for the richness and depth of God’s love and gospel to penetrate deep into the ground and heart of your community?

What would it look like if we boasted more in the church down the street than in our own? What would it look like if instead of planting an identical competing church in the backyard of another, we did an audacious thing … we went somewhere else where no one yet has a sphere of influence! An audacious and and novel idea, I know. For goodness' sake, we are not Walgreens and CVS! We are not Lowe's and Home Depot! Let’s loose the chains of territorialism and competition that only weaken us and threaten to quench the influence of Christ’s bride altogether. Instead, let’s begin to think like Jesus—like Paul—to be kingdom-minded and kingdom-driven. To love Christ’s bride. And above all, “to boast in the Lord.” (2 Cor. 10:17)

Laying Aside Skepticism ... just for a moment

Skeptics thrive on the miraculous! They get their conversation pieces from the magic shows. I know that's true in my own heart. I think because we see so much superficial garbage portrayed through the likes of the toupee-wearing, teeth-sparkling charlatans proclaiming a different sort of Gospel altogether. And so it's no wonder that for those of us trying to keep a level head and hold to Gospel-centered orthodoxy, we shutter at these insults. So, yes, there is wisdom in skepticism, especially of this sort. But, I also feel that there is wisdom to be had in leaning, at times, away from what might be our natural tendency toward skepticism and to embrace what God might be doing in front of our eyes, though it might be "out-of-the-box." Now, before you decide to impale me on a stake and burn me as a heretic, listen to this example from Acts 9 that I picked up on today, and see if it makes sense. It probably won't sound as big of a deal as I'm making it. So here we go:

Acts 9 - Saul's Conversion

Upon the Lord making known to Ananias that Saul of Tarsus, the great persecutor of the church, had just experienced the risen Savior and had his life completely transformed, Ananias did what most of us would have done ... he became skeptical.

¹³"Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard from many people about this man, how much harm he has done to Your saints in Jerusalem. ¹⁴ And he has authority here from the chief priests to arrest all who call on Your name."

That's exactly what I would have done. But the Lord is patient.

¹⁵ But the Lord said to him, "Go! For this man is My chosen instrument to carry My name before Gentiles, kings, and the sons of Israel. ^N)">¹⁶ I will certainly show him how much he must suffer for My name!"

I love that. Chosen instrument.

¹⁷ So Ananias left and entered the house ...

Wow. There's more to that verse, but I don't want to skip over this important phrase. He entered the house. He obeyed. He went--in spite of all that he had heard about Saul--in spite of the fact that there was a good chance that Saul could have slit his throat. He obeyed. Ananias laid aside his skeptic's glasses long enough to see through the lens that God was trying to place in front of him-- a lens that involved the primary mass-murderer and persecutor of Christians in the known world at that time coming to faith in Jesus Christ.

But the skepticism doesn't end there. Luke tells us later on in chapter nine that when Saul tried to have fellowship with the believers in Jerusalem, they shunned him. No one would even talk to him. They were freaked out that he might kill on their bodies or something. That he might go kamikaze with the wine glass in the middle of communion or something. I'm not sure. But they were skeptical, that's for certain, until ... Barnabas, yes, good ole Barnaby (whose name meant "Hello, Dolly!" ... No, it wasn't that ... it was something else ... Oh, yea, the "son of encouragement!") came over and extended the right hand of fellowship to Saul and put the hearts of the others at rest.

(Get to the point). I know. It takes me awhile sometimes. Especially once the kids go to bed and I can think clearly again and my fingers and mind come together in a beautiful wedding of thought as they simply can't get enough of the soothing, hypnotic clacking of the keys. Anyway, the point is this:

Skepticism, though a good thing in guarding solid, biblical orthodoxy, can at times block us from seeing the bigger picture of what God is up to in the world.

The tricky part is discernment. That's where we need to ask God to give us His eyes and His perspective on what's going on around us so that we might be able to discern if it is, in fact, His hand at work. Thank God that Ananias laid aside his initial skepticism. Thank God that Barnaby laid aside Horace's wallet (oh, there I go again) so that he could see with God's eyes what was actually going on in the circumstances surrounding Saul. And who knows what might have happened had they not looked past their own tendency toward skepticism. That's all I'm saying.

Short-Cuts

Acts 8

18When Simon saw that the Spirit was given at the laying on of the apostles' hands, he offered them money
19and said, "Give me also this ability so that everyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit."
20Peter answered: "May your money perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God with money!
21You have no part or share in this ministry, because your heart is not right before God.

Observation:
Simon was seeking a short-cut to intimacy with God. But there are no shortcuts. There are no quick formulas for getting certain things from God--no microwavable blessing waiting in a package. Spiritual maturity is a long, slow process, but one that is absolutely necessary for obtaining closeness with God.

What short-cuts am I trying to take in my Christian life? How about you?

Simple? Yes. Easy? No Way!

Why is it that some of the simplest things in life are the most difficult to accomplish?  For example, the formula to lose weight is simple: Eat healthy and exercise.  But as you take a stroll through suburban America, you quickly realize that this is easier said than done.  Or what about this one? Living debt-free.  Every sane person wants to.  Simple right?  Don't spend more money than you have.  Yet, our current financial situation has exposed our collective love of money and our greed-motivated quest for more.  

The Bible is full of these too.  As I was reading Scripture this morning, one of these simple/difficult formulas popped out at me.  It's found in the 15th chapter of John's Gospel.  And it's one of Jesus' sayings.  Big surprise.  Jesus said a lot that was difficult.  Sometimes difficult to understand, but most of the time just difficult to put into practice the way that we ought.  And apart from the Spirit's power in our lives ... impossible.

Anyway, He says one of the simplest statements recorded in Scripture.  One that most kindergartners memorize in Sunday School.  I know because Rainy just memorized it a few months ago.  Here it is:

"This I command you, that you love one another." (John 15:17)

That's it.  Simple.  Yet incredibly hard to live out.  

And why is that?  Why do we find it so difficult to love people?  Isn't it because, by our very nature, we are bent toward sin and self-centeredness.  We are prone to love only ourselves.  And since every sin, at its core, is rooted in the sin of pride, the lack of love for one another fails to be the exception.  It's pride.  In truth, we don't love others, because we love ourselves too much.  

As I considered my own lack of love for people, I glanced back at the previous sixteen verses and came to another realization.  Since this whole pericope hinges on the concept of remaining in Christ, it dawned on me that love for others is contingent upon our remaining in Him. 

He says in verse 5: "I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.

Epiphany:  Could it be that I don't love others the way I ought because I don't love Jesus the way I ought?  Could it be because I'm not consistently remaining in Him?  Could there be a correlation between lack of fellowship with Christ and lack of love for people?  And could the reverse also be true?  When I am in fellowship with Christ, love for people comes as an overflow?  

Obviously the questions here are rhetorical, but I think they demand our attention.  They demand that we evaluate our love for people and our love for Christ.  And maybe, as we do that it will become an indicator and a barometer to help us gauge our relationship with Christ.  

Simple? Yes.  Easy?  No way!

When Admiration Turns South

What happened between this verse,

When David came to Saul and entered his service, Saul admired him greatly, and David became his armor-bearer. (1 Samuel 16:21)

and this verse

So Saul watched David jealously from that day forward. (1 Samuel 18:9) ?

Early on in Saul's relationship with David, Scripture says that he admired David. So much so that David became his armor-bearer--his personal assistant--his closest ally. Perhaps he saw some traits in David that reminded him of who he once was, or what he wished he could be. Maybe he admired the things in David that were lacking in himself. But whatever it was, it didn't last long.

What began as love and admiration soon turned to hate and jealousy. David was better looking. David was perceived by the people as being more heroic. David had the people eating out of his hands. On and on the list went. And Saul began to see himself quickly losing his hold on the kingdom.

As I studied this story this week, I was challenged to guard against this type of attitude. Because I realize how easy it is to adopt--how simple and easy it is to fall into this trap. So, let's be careful to guard against admiration that leads to jealousy and hatred. Thank God for how He has gifted those around you--other believers--colleagues--family members. And don't let admiration turn to jealousy!

He Went Out To The Mountain

This morning I read Luke 6 and was challenged by these words:

During those days He went out to the mountain to pray and spent all night in prayer to God. When daylight came, He summoned His disciples, and He chose 12 of them; He also named them apostles: (Luke 6:12-13).

As I read that, I was struck by the fact that Jesus prayed all night long on the mountain before He chose the 12.

All night.

The Son of God--God incarnate--prayed all night before this big decision.

And then I thought about what most Christians do before big decisions. We might pray for a few minutes. But mostly we'd rather "use the brain God gave us." Or we'd rather "seek wise counsel." Granted, those are good things to do--things I do, and things I encourage others to do. But I wonder how often they are used as a means of justification for our laziness in the discipline of prayer. How often are they just a cop-out for our failure to pray without ceasing? I wonder how often we'd rather try every other means accessible to us for our decisions before spending the time in prayer that Jesus did.

Needless to say, I was convicted.

Needless to say, with the Lord's help, I'll be heading to the mountain more often.

And yes, I'll still be seeking wise counsel, but not without seeking the wisest counsel first.

Place Your Stones Where Your Kids Can Get To Them

In continuing my journey through the Scriptures, this morning I read a passage in the book of Joshua that gripped me in a new way. In Joshua 4, the Israelites had just come under new leadership after Moses' death. The Lord had instructed Moses to make Joshua first in command of His people. In doing so, one of Joshua's first acts was to lead the people across the Jordan River into the Promised Land (incidentally, not unlike one of Moses' first tasks in leading the people across the Red Sea). So God completely cut off the downstream flow of the river, firming up the ground for their footing--just as solid as if it were concrete (Joshua 3:16-17).

Once they were through, Joshua instructed 12 men, one from each of the 12 tribes, to take stones (and we're not talking skipping stones--they were more likely boulders) from the middle of the river and place them in a pile at their former campsite. This act of piling up stones, seen commonly throughout the Old Testament, is often referred to as an "ebenezer" or "stone of remembrance"--a symbolic act for the purpose of helping the people remember the faithfulness of God at certain times and points in history. But what struck me today in a fresh way was one of the more specific and primary purposes of these memorial stones.

Joshua explained, "When your children ask their fathers in the future, 'What is the meaning of these stones?' you should tell your children, 'Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.'" (Joshua 4:21-22)

Here's what I noticed today: One of the primary purposes of the stones was to act as a teaching agent for their children. They were to be a teaching tool for parents to share with their children how God had been faithful to them at specific points in time. I think I've long understood the general idea of these memorial stones. After all, every time I get the opportunity to lead the hymn "Come Thou Fount" I usually take the chance to explain the context of the line in verse two that says, "Here I raise my ebenezer, hither by Thy help I've come." But for some reason I overlooked this very important purpose of the stones--that they were intended to be a tangible teaching symbol for their children--as a means of declaring the greatness and faithfulness of God to their sons and daughters--as a teaching agent for their kids.

So I began to ask myself: What teaching agents do I have at my disposal to begin teaching my kids about the faithfulness of God? How good of a job am I doing in sharing with my children how God has been faithful in the past so that they can be confident of His faithfulness in an uncertain future? And how do I take this idea of the memorial stone and apply it very practically in our family life?

Tasha and I are still trying to figure out what that means for our family. At the very least, I think it means having some very tangible expressions of those reminders placed throughout our house--whether its through journal entries that we share with them of times when we witnessed the faithfulness of God. Or whether its through a photo book that we periodically show them of times when God heard and answered our prayers. Or whether its through the simple act of sharing personal family stories of God's grace and favor.

We're still figuring out the best ways to share with our children, and I would encourage you to do the same. But regardless of how we do it, the most important thing is simply that we share.

A Universal Back-Stabbing

I've never noticed until yesterday the severity of the disciples' betrayal of their Lord in the last hours of His life--and not just the severity of their betrayal, but the universal scope of their betrayal. Each of the disciples broke the heart of their master in some way in those final hours. Matthew 26 illustrates this for us.

1. A Disappointment - vv. 40-46 - His disciples kept falling asleep in the garden instead of praying and keeping watch.
2. A Betrayal - v. 49 - Judas betrayed Jesus into the hands of the sanhedrin for 30 pieces of silver.
3. A Desertion - v. 56 - "...Then all the disciples deserted him and fled." - Following Judas' betrayal, the rest of the disciples scattered. They deserted Him.
4. A Denial - vv. 69-75 - Peter denied that He knew Jesus three times to people he didn't know.

This same group that had shared their last meal together and sang hymns together (v. 30) all betrayed their Lord in one way or another only moments later. From this one chapter there is this escalating scale of betrayal culminating with Peter denying Jesus three times and the rooster acting as the capstone, the final note of this tragedy.

Lord, as I think about how You were so badly mistreated by Your closest friends in those last hours of Your life before the cross, my pride wants to ask,

"How in the world could Jesus' friends have acted this way only moments before Your death? Why? What would drive them to such a low?"

And yet, if I'm honest with myself I have to acknowledge that I would have done the very same things--or even worse. I would have disappointed You by falling asleep instead of praying. I would have betrayed You for money. I would have deserted You, fled the scene, and run toward safety. And I would have denied that I knew You--at least three times--maybe more if given the chance.

I know that about myself because I've already done them--some in my heart--some in public. I'm quick to point the finger at the disciples and quick to ignore ... the four pointing back at me? No. The middle one that I've got raised in the air as a rebel to a cause already lost. In this case, the lost cause being this sense of self-righteous entitlement--a battle I'll never win because I'm entitled to nothing, save Hell itself! So why do I go kicking and screaming when all You want is my surrender?--the white flag--to give it all over to You.

O Lord, forgive me. It was I who disappointed, betrayed, deserted, and denied You. And then it was I who stripped, cursed at, beat, stabbed, mocked and nailed you to a cross leaving You for dead. Forgive me, Lord Jesus, for it was I who murdered You.

Success and Failure

In reading through the Exodus accounts recently and more particularly, the call of God on Moses' life, I realized a very important principle that I've often thought to be true, but never really had it confirmed quite like this until now.

In Exodus 5, just after things began getting hard for the Israelites upon Moses' reluctant obedience, Moses has this conversation with God.

22 So Moses went back to the LORD and asked, "Lord, why have You caused trouble for this people? And why did You ever send me? 23 Ever since I went in to Pharaoh to speak in Your name he has caused trouble for this people, and You haven't delivered Your people at all."

What we see here is the human heart in all its disgusting glory. The very moment that things started getting hard for Moses and the Hebrews, Moses began blaming God, even though God made it clear that Pharaoh would not listen ... at least not at first. God made it clear to Moses that Pharaoh would harden his heart (or, more accurately, God would harden Pharaoh's heart) and that getting through to him would be literally impossible for quite some time. Yet, in spite of knowing this, Moses still blamed God. He blamed God for giving him a task that was destined to fail the first eleven times (10 plagues, plus the "staff-becoming-snake-then-gobbling-the-other-staff-become-snakes" sign) before he would finally see victory.

While processing this story, I became aware of the following principle:

PRINCIPLE: Failure in a task does not necessarily mean that you have missed God's voice. God may actually be the One setting you up for failure until He's ready to give you the victory ... in His timing.

In our results-based Christian subculture, we often equate failure with missing God's will or not hearing God's voice. But that just isn't always the case. (i.e. If a church-plant "fails", did the pastor and leaders miss God's voice? Or did God want it to "fail" so that something greater could take place later on?)

To repeat this principle another way:

What looks like failure by the world's definition, may not actually be failure.

And the reverse can likewise be true: What looks like success by the world's definition, may not be success at all.

Moses' situation certainly does not give us the right to justify our sin-soaked failures and the times that we definitely did miss God's voice. But it certainly helps to clarify the issue of what success and failure really look like in God's economy; namely, that they are often in utter contradistinction to our own.

Hardening Effect

Habitual sin has a hardening effect on your soul and a seering effect on your conscience. No question. When I read the following verses from the account in Genesis where Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery, this truth is especially highlighted:

Genesis 37:24-25 - and they took him and threw him into the cistern. Now the cistern was empty; there was no water in it.

As they sat down to eat their meal, they looked up and saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead. Their camels were loaded with spices, balm and myrrh, and they were on their way to take them down to Egypt.

They threw Joseph in the pit and then sat down to ... eat a meal?

What? ...

That's right. The hardening effect of sin had already begun to fasten its grip on the brothers. And Scripture says that throwing Joseph in the pit was only a temporary step in their murder plot against him. You see, selling him into slavery was not their first option. Murdering him was the first option. Perhaps they intended to leave him in the cistern. Or perhaps they were going to pull him out and end his life quickly. We don't know. But with only moments to go before the murder was to take place, they sat down to eat a sandwich. To grab a bite to eat. To relax a little before the rest of the plot unfolded.

The obvious question becomes, how had they come this far? What brought them to such a low level of depravity that they would even consider murdering their own flesh and blood?

Perhaps it began when Simeon and Levi, in an attempt to avenge their sister's rape, entered into the Hivite village under false pretense and mass murdered all of the males who had been duped into circumcising themselves three days earlier. (Gen. 34) Still in pain, the villagers couldn't defend themselves. Makes for a great movie plot. It almost makes me want to stand up and cheer for these guys as they defended their sister's honor. And something tells me that if Hollywood got a hold of the story, that's exactly the angle they would take.

And yet, Scripture makes it clear that this was not the will of the Lord. They were rebuked harshly and repeatedly by their own father (Gen. 34:30-31; 49:5-7). Why? Because they acted on their own accord--taking vengence in their own hands.

Maybe it began there and then snowballed out-of-control until their consciences were totally seered and corrupted. Then it makes sense why they could sit down to eat a meal hundreds of feet above their brother who sat in the pitch dark of the earth.

The bottom line? Don't underestimate the stronghold of unconfessed sin in your life. It can snowball much more rapidly than you ever imagined. As the saying goes,

"Sin will take you farther than you wanted to go, cost you more than you wanted to pay, and keep you longer than you wanted to stay."

It's Golden

I've been reading through the Sermon on the Mount this week. Wow, there's so much there. Every time I read it I glean something fresh. Here's something that jumped out at me this morning.

Matthew 7:12 is arguably the most quoted Scripture of all-time, though most people wouldn't know where to locate it in the Bible.

"Therefore, whatever you want others to do for you, do also the same for them..."

Otherwise known in today's vernacular as "The Golden Rule." And here's the question that came to my mind: How many people can quote this verse, but have absolutely no clue the context surrounding it, particularly the verse that follows?

Verse 13 says, "Enter through the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who go through it."

It almost seems that Jesus anticipated the phenomenon that verse twelve would become in our society--that it would turn into a social religion in and of itself when ripped out of its context. Yet, the ironic thing is that The Golden Rule means nothing without verse 13. Unless you enter through the narrow gate, it doesn't matter how many people you treat kindly; it doesn't matter how many people you treat fairly; it doesn't matter how many people you treat as you would want to be treated.

The Golden Rule, when standing on itself for support, is a like a load-bearing wall in a house when the main support truss is removed. It eventually collapses. The Golden Rule is meant to stand on the support structure of the whole context. And that demands that we enter through the narrow gate--life lived the way Jesus intended--abandoning the broad road to destruction--walking the narrow road with eternity in mind, and refusing the temporary gain we may easily achieve through social pleasantries, niceness and fairness alone!

Pay Attention

Sometimes events or circumstances happen in our lives that make us question certain things. They make us question our loyalty. Our calling. Our mission. Our purpose. Our motivation. Our sense of direction. And sometimes it's good, I think, to allow those events or circumstances to drive us to reevaluate where we are. To reevaluate everything we know to be true about who we are. For Christ-followers committed to Jesus, we know that the core of who we are and the foundation upon which our lives are built can never be shaken. And that's reassuring, to be sure, especially in light of the world in which we live--with its craziness, insecurities, madness and endless pursuit of happiness, purpose and fulfillment.

But for Christ-followers, a different type of challenge or questioning can occur. Challenges that cause us not to reevaluate what we believe to be true about God necessarily, but challenges that cause us to examine who we are in light of Christ--in light of who He is--in light of His character--the things we know, with certainty based on His Word, to be true of Him.

For example, I know that God is good. I normally wouldn't doubt that. But let's suppose that due to the economic crisis I lose everything. My house. My car. My savings. My kids' college fund (what little there is--sorry guys!). Certainly, things have changed in my life. But I can be sure that God hasn't changed. I know intuitively, from the testimony of the Holy Spirit, and cognitively, from the testimony of Scripture, that God is good. He's still good. He hasn't change. My circumstances have changed, but He remains the same. The challenge comes, however, in my ability to process what has happened. Though I know that God is good, my experience might tell me otherwise. But let's say my experience loses the battle, and I walk away still saying, "God is good." A challenge still remains. The challenge then looks more like these questions: "What have I done wrong? What is there in my life that might be causing this misfortune? What's wrong with me? What am I missing? When did I miss God's will? When did I misunderstand Him?"

To be fair, sometimes these questions are legitimate. Sometimes it really is us who have walked away from the Lord, or who have dropped the ball somewhere along the way and the consequences for our actions have caught up with us. But let's suppose that's not the case. Then where are we left? We are left in the same position we've always been left in. The position that cries out from deep within us, "God is good. He's still on His throne. And He still loves me, no matter what my circumstances tell me." If we can be resolved to say that God hasn't moved, and to the best of our knowledge, in good conscience, neither have we, we can rest fully assured in God's sovereign providential plan that He will complete the good work He started in You (Phil. 1:6). That His plans for us are to prosper us and give us a hope and a future (Jer. 29:11).

I'll tell you where the challenge has been for me lately. Ready? The issue of calling. Things have happened lately that have caused me, well ... not to doubt necessarily my calling, but to question certain things. Issues concerning God's timing. Issues concerning His perfect plan for me--for my family. Not a nagging thing, like a toothache or a PMSing bank clerk--but more like a constant awareness, like the beeping of a pedestrian crosswalk sign making you aware that your time to cross is almost up. Sort of like that. Not annoying. Just there. And not completely sure why.

But then this morning I read a verse that seemed to be straight from the Lord. I've been working slowly through Colossians--finished it up this morning. It's an obscure verse found at the very end of the book. If you're not careful you can miss it. I have before until today.

It says, "And tell Archippus, 'Pay attention to the ministry you have received in the Lord, so that you can accomplish it.'" (Colossians 4:17)

Who's Archippus? No one knows. An obscure Pauline reference. But it doesn't matter. The point? Pay attention to your ministry! The ministry you have received from the Lord. Why? So you can accomplish it. So you can finish strong. So you can receive the reward. So you can rest assured that God hasn't forgotten you or forsaken you. That He is the One who equipped you and has given this ministry to you. So go for it! Pay attention to it! Do it! I needed that today. Maybe you need it to.