Kirk Lewis

How Firm A Foundation

Background Passages: Matthew 7: 24-27; Luke 6:46-49

In 2008, Hurricane Ike crashed into the Texas Coast as a strong Category 2 storm, inundating Galveston and the inland counties with 19 inches of rain across a two-day period, winds sustained at 110 miles per hour and a storm surge of about 17 feet. The devastation, particularly along the eastern shore of Galveston Island, was almost total. A single home on Bolivar Peninsula survived the storm. Ike had been a devastating storm.

As we have done for the past 35 years or so, my wife’s family gathers in a rented beach house on Galveston Island to enjoy time together. We began this journey with my wife’s parents and her siblings and a couple of our children. This year, my wife’s siblings and all our children and grandchildren came together…25 of us at one point, including 12 grandchildren, all but one under the age of seven. I can only describe the week as heavenly chaos.

The beach house that is our home this year, sits in a single line of similar houses just yards from the beach. One can sit on the deck of any of these homes as the high tide reaches within 60 feet of their foundations. Ideal in times of calm, I can only imagine the threat a storm like Ike would pose to these beach-front properties.

Strict building codes require thick foundations and deep-set pilings elevating the first livable floor to a height of between 12-15 feet. The key to surviving a storm, according to the architects, is the strength of the foundation. It is a lesson driven home again by the tide surge during Ike.

A carpenter by trade, Jesus taught a similar lesson to all who would listen. He questioned why anyone would call him Lord, the boss of his or her life, and not do as he says. He taught that those who hear and obey are like the wise builder.

“They are like the man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation (or the man who builds his house upon the sand alone.) The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.”

In such a simple illustration, Jesus gives us powerful lessons on what it means to commit ourselves fully to him. First, both houses faced the same storm. Jesus never suggested that the home that withstood the torrent faced a lesser storm than the one that was destroyed. The winds came. The rains fell. The streams flooded. The houses both faced the same dangers. It is not a matter of if the storms will blow. Jesus’ story tells us the storm will come to all of us. Our task is to prepare ourselves for that eventuality. That knowledge takes us to the second point.

Nothing in Jesus’ words leads us believe that the men constructed their houses differently. Unlike the three little pigs in the fairy tale who used different construction materials and methods, we can assume each man built a well-constructed house for his family. Quality materials. Quality workmanship. Yet one man’s house weathered the storm while the other crumbled beneath its strength.

All of us seek to build a quality life. Some focus on philosophy. Some on positive thinking. Some on good works. Yet none of these concepts, in and of themselves, are strong enough to weather the storm.

Jesus identifies only one difference in the homes as they were built. The foundation. The home built on a firm foundation survived the storm when the one built without that solid foundation failed.

It is a simple illustration. It’s not a question of if the storms or troubles will enter our lives. It is a matter of when. Storms are a given. It’s not a question of how strong we are personally. How well we feel our lives are put together. Our strength alone, our philosophy of life, is insufficient in the face of the even the most ordinary pressures of life.

We see the impact of trouble on the lives of friends and family. How does one person survive calamity while another crumbles beneath its weight?

Jesus tells us the answer rests with the foundation upon which each life is built. We make choices. We choose to live life our own way, in our own strength, failing to drive the piling of our faith to the bedrock. Far too many people lay a superficial foundation in something other than Jesus Christ that is insufficient to weather the storms, yet they move in anyway. Living life that way is a risky proposition.

Jesus teaches us that kingdom living requires a solid foundation, based both on listening to his word and acting upon it. Putting his teachings into the practice of daily life. Being obedient. When we set our foundation on his strength rather than our own, when we act upon the knowledge we gain through our experiences with him, when we immerse ourselves in his teaching, the rain, wind and flood cannot shake the foundation of our lives.

Finally, contractors pour the foundation, giving it time to cure before they start erecting the building upon it. There is a measure of truth in letting the foundation of our faith cure. Allowing it to grow in our hearts. Giving it time to cure. Such is the lesson of a lifetime of living in his grace. Jesus spent 30 years preparing his foundation before he began his ministry. God granted him time to drive the pilings deeply so he would be ready for the challenge of the cross.

The real joy of life is taking the time to let Jesus teach us his will and way throughout the years. To sink our foundation pilings deep into the bedrock of his word and resting in the knowledge that nothing can destroy our lives when planted firmly in his grace.

The old hymn, “How Firm Our Foundation” closes with these words:

The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose,
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”

My prayer is that it our foundation would be that secure all the days of our lives.

What Would Our Lives Be

Background Passage: I Samuel 16:7

Dallan Forgaill, a sixth century Christian poet from Ireland, penned the words to Rob Tú Mo Baile in Old Irish. The poem proclaims a message that has endured for more than a millennium. Legend says that Dallan, a nickname which literally means “little blind one,” lost his sight as a young man because he studied so long and so intensely.

Through the years, monks used his poem as part of the liturgy of the church, it’s words deeply meaningful. More than 1,100 years later in 1905, the poem was finally translated for the first time into English by noted linguist Mary Elizabeth Byrne and adapted as a hymn seven years later by Eleanor Hull. We know the song as Be Thou My Vision.

I came across this version of a song I’ve heard all my life and was reminded again of how often deep spiritual truth is conveyed through words and melody. Too often we see those around us…value them…based upon how they live and what they look like. The lyrics of this song speak to the way Christ sees past the outward circumstances and external appearance straight into the heart. I Samuel 16:7 spells it out with supreme clarity.

Samuel stood confused as God rejected all the brothers of David as king and instructed the priest to anoint David instead, the youngest and smallest among them. “But the Lord said to Samuel, ‘Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

This rendition of Be Thou My Vision, performed by Eden’s Bridge, a Christian band whose harmonies align well with elements of Celtic music, expresses the profound faith of one whose heart’s desire longs to life unfold through the eyes of Christ. As you listen to the melody, take note also of the lyrics:

“Be thou my vision.” What would it mean to our lives if we looked at the world around us with the eyes of Christ? How would it change the way we treat each other? The love of Christ is unconditional. Love that looks beneath a sometimes ugly surface and sees the heart’s deepest need. A love that sees the deepest need of our fellow man and acts redemptively in that person’s life. The song reminds us when the Lord of our hearts opens our eyes and becomes our best thought of the day his presence can light up the dark places that hide the inner hearts of those around us. Imagine how differently we might think and act.

“Be thou my wisdom.” What would it mean to our lives if we let our thoughts be God’s thoughts? His wisdom our wisdom? How would it change our actions and deeds if we allowed the Holy Spirit to dwell with us every hour of every day? Imagine the struggle we could avoid and the hurt we might no longer cause ourselves and others if we relied on his wisdom instead of our own.

“Be thou my armor.” Amid the onslaught of the world’s temptations, what would it mean to our lives if we stood in the strength of God, allowing his presence in our lives to shield us from the traps into which we stumble and fall? To protect us from the evil we too readily accept in our lives? Imagine what it would mean to us and those we love if we rested daily in the power of Christ?

“Be thou my treasure.” What would it mean to our lives if we spent less time worried about gathering the riches of the world or the praise of others and banked instead on the heavenly inheritance of grace that comes when we accepted Christ as savior? How different would our lives be if we stored up the treasures of heaven rather than the riches of the world? Imagine the freedom that comes from the absence of worry about material things that really don’t matter.

“Be thou my victory.” If we saw the world through the eyes of Christ, victory in life is ours. The joy and contentment only he provides is ours. The eternity he promises is ours. And, nothing that happens in this world, nothing anyone does to you, changes any of that.

“Be thou my vision.” I know. Allowing Christ the kind of access into our hearts to enable us to see the world through his eyes is easier said than done. We fight it so. But, what would our lives be and how would our lives change if we made this song our prayer as we wake each morning?

“Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart.”

The Tower or the Towel

Background Passages: Genesis 11:1-9; Luke 9:46-48; Matthew 20:20-28 and John 13:1-17

LeBron James, the star of the Cleveland Cavaliers, recently signed an endorsement contract with Nike estimated to be worth a staggering $1 billion. Samsung, Coca-Cola, McDonald’s and Kia pay serious money to the NBA star just for tweeting his fascination with big screen televisions, his love for Diet Coke and a Big Mac. Each time James tweets an endorsement for products produced by any of these firms, he earns $185,000. He has made quite a name for himself.

That companies value his name so much is a witness that ours is a culture obsessed with celebrity. The proliferation of entertainment or sports magazines reflects our interest in the lives of the rich and famous. The world buys what these celebrities sell and gives credence to what they say simply by virtue of their fame.

Celebrities are not the only ones who desire name recognition. Many of us drive ourselves long and hard to achieve great things, motivated by the desire to become famous…to make ourselves a name. It’s not a recent phenomenon. In fact, a look at ancient biblical history takes the concept to absurd heights.

In Genesis, God’s blessing and commission to Noah and his family after the flood was abundantly clear, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth.” They were to take on the responsibility of raising families and spreading out across the earth to fill it again with people obedient to God the Creator.

Just a few generations later, his descendants thought they had a better idea as they migrated eastward. Genesis 11 tells the intriguing story we know as “The Tower of Babel.” The people made a deliberate choice to stop spreading out across creation as God ordained and instead agreed to come together and “build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.”

Focusing the story on the tower misses the point. It was never about the tall tower. It was never about joining God in the heavens. It was always a story of the self-centeredness of a rebellious creation that deemed themselves more capable than God of determining their future. Note the statements of hubris evident in the scripture, “Let us make bricks…” “Let us build ourselves a city…” Not a word of honor to God. Not a thought to his will for their lives. Rather, a deep-seated desire to master their own fate and build their own celebrity. “Let us make a name for ourselves.”

In its broader context, we see two opposite views of man’s existence. The people of Babel built a city and a tower to make them great among the people of the world. A chapter later, their egotism is countered when God calls Abram, promising that he (God) would make Abram’s name great. Author David Atkinson writes a central truth that “the prerogative of making a name great belongs to God.”

The story itself points out the futility of our efforts to make ourselves great as understood by our culture. In the story, the people build a tower “to the heavens,” yet God must descend to assess the situation. God’s actions within the story stress the eternal insignificance of anything man might accomplish as he seeks to exalt himself.

It happened all too often among Jesus’ disciples. Their position or status within the group of 12 believers remained a constant source of debate and argument throughout Jesus’ ministry. One day as they walked along the road, Jesus overheard the same tired argument erupt among the 12 about whom among them would be the greatest. Luke tells us that Jesus wrapped a little child in his arms…one whom society deemed of less value. He told them, “Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me…For it is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest.”

Later, the mother of James and John petitioned Jesus to elevate her sons to positions of honor within his kingdom. She wanted to help make a name for her sons. He chastised the brothers for not fully understanding the implications of their requests. It didn’t take long for the rest of the disciples to discover the end run they had made to put themselves in positions of authority. They were incensed and a divisive argument ensued.

The Master called one of his famous “come to Jesus” meetings. As he gathered them around, he taught them what it meant to be great. It is a powerful message for us in our celebrity-driven culture.

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave, just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

He later personified that message. Somewhere in an upper room in Jerusalem, Jesus shed his cloak and draped it across his chair. He wrapped a towel around his waist. Poured water into a bowl. As he knelt silently before each disciple, he washed their dusty feet, drying them with his towel.

“Do you understand what I have done for you?” Jesus asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. No servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

There it is. Laid out as plainly as possible. Making a name for oneself does not come from exalting oneself or lording one’s authority over another. Making a name for oneself does not come in ignoring the will of God and doing what you desire. Making a name for oneself doesn’t mean building towers or monuments to your hyper-inflated ego. Making a name for oneself does not mean seeking celebrity and name recognition.

Jesus teaches us that greatness in the eyes of God stems from our obedience to his will and acting with a servant’s heart to minister to those in need. Humility, service and love rest as the foundation for godly living. God marks the greatness within us by the sincerity of our humility, the strength of our service to others in need and the depth of our love to those the world deems unlovable.

It seems to me we have a choice each day we live. We make a name for ourselves by serving the Name above all Names. So, do we choose the tower or the towel?

Their Father’s Eyes

Background Passage: I Corinthians 13:4-8a

I’m certain there were a great many times during my sons’ teenage years when they agreed with Mark Twain when he said, “When I was fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around.” Hopefully, now that both of them are in their 30s, they might agree with Twain’s finished thought. “But, when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned.”

We celebrate Father’s Day this weekend. Last year I wrote about my Dad and the genuineness and integrity he brings to life each day. This weekend, he is in a rehab hospital recovering from hip replacement surgery at the age of 91. He is a good, good man.

I think back on all I learned from Dad and hope I put the best of those things into practice during my 38 years as the father of two sons. Adam and Andrew witnessed my response through the ups and downs…through life’s turmoil and trauma and its beauty and blessings. They saw me struggle when the fog of life shrouded my sense of direction. Hopefully, they also saw me press on until the mist lifted and the sun shone brightly again. Hopefully, they learned during all those days what not to do as easily as they learned what to do.

I have watched my two sons grow and mature into amazing husbands and fathers. Granted, neither of them has walked yet in the furnace of fire that will surely engulf them during the teenage years to come. Based on what I have seen so far, I think they’ll do fine.

So, on this Father’s Day, while I am eternally grateful for the example of my own father, I am equally blessed by the example of my sons.

I rejoice also knowing that both of my sons know first-hand the love of Christ and live each day in faith and commitment to him. Their relationship to Christ guides their relationships with their wives, their children and all those they encounter. They live as a witness to their faith by telling their kids about Jesus and his love for them and by bringing their children to church. As a result, the seed of grace and faith have already been planted in the lives of grandchildren. This testimony of faith is the greatest gift my sons will give their children through all the days of their lives.

Both my sons married well. God led them to two women who complement them in every way. Adam’s wife, Jordan, and Andrew’s wife, Melissa, are delightful additions to our family. It is obvious to me that Adam and Andrew adore them. Love is evident at its deepest level. Visible in meaningful ways. I’m grateful that they listened as God put those two women into their lives. They are stronger men and better fathers because of these exceptional young women.

Adam and Jordan have two sons, Eli, 6, and Josiah, 4. Andrew and Melissa have two daughters, Lena, 2, and Amelia, 6 months. These children recognize at some level the love their parents have for one another, even if they may be too young to fully understand it. It is another beautiful gift my sons give their children.

The two families joined us at our house today to celebrate my Father’s Day. It was good to have them here. The house was noisy, busy with the echoes of childish laughter and the stomp of running feet throughout the house. Sublime perfection.

Because I had this thought in mind for this devotional, I watched more closely the way my sons covered my grandkids in love. The passage of scripture that came to mind was not one of those traditional Father’s Day scriptures. Paul’s words in I Corinthians 13 jumped into my heart.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

I watch my sons playing with their children, spending quality time with them, and this is what I see. A love that is both patient and kind, expressed in arms that enfold them. Words of encouragement that build a child’s self-worth. A love that disciplines when necessary…not in a hateful or reactive manner, but in an instructive way. The fatherly guidance children need to understand the nature of right and wrong. Lessons that teach acceptable behavior and how God wants them to live. It is a love that guides and seeks the best for the child. The love I see in their eyes as they live life as a parent is protective, trusting, hopeful and constant. It is, I know, a love that never fails.

So, I watch them and think, “Maybe I didn’t screw them up after all.”

We like to talk about children who look like their parents. We say, “He has his father’s eyes.” Gary Chapmen wrote a song in 1979 that shows he understands that phrase in a different way. He saw in his own father a man who found the good in everyone and every circumstance. A man whose eyes reflected compassion and empathy. Chapman’s hope expressed in the first verse is that others will see in his own eyes what he saw in his father’s eyes. He then takes the last verse to a deeper level, reminding us that the world ought to see the loving eyes of our heavenly father reflected in our own.

I truly don’t know what others might see of me when they look into the eyes of my sons. I hope my influence has been a positive one. What is most important to me is that others see the eyes of Christ in the eyes of my sons because that’s what I see. For in their eyes, I see…

“Eyes that find the good in things,

When good is not around;

Eyes that find the source of help,

When help just can’t be found;

Eyes full of compassion,

Seeing every pain;

Knowing what you’re going through

And feeling it the same.”

In my mind, Adam and Andrew have their heavenly Father’s eyes that shine with compassion and empathy in their relationship to their wives, their children and the world around them. An earthly father cannot hope for more.

As I watched the frenetic activity around me today, I prayed that my grandchildren someday realize what a blessing it is to be wrapped in their father’s love. I pray they have their fathers’ eyes…as well as Father’s eyes.

Dip Your Toes in the Jordan

Background Passage: Joshua 1:1-9

I walked on stage this year again as a part of yet another high school graduation. After a 30-year career in public education, I’ve participated in one form or another in more than 120 commencement exercises and watched roughly 65,000 young people end their high school careers. That means I’ve seen my share of beach balls. Heard my share of air horns. Watched my share of impromptu dances across the stage.

The faces of these graduates as they received that cherished piece of parchment paper reflected a mixture of joy and excitement, tinged with an underlying sense of dread. Each of them undoubtedly realized in the hours after they walked the stage that they faced a future that remained largely unknown despite all their plans and dreams.

As I watched the evenings unfold each year, the ceremony always reminded me of my own graduation from high school. The scope and venue were certainly different. NRG Stadium in Houston compared to my high school auditorium in Ropesville. Standing among classes ranging in size from 450 to 900 students compared to my class of 33.

The graduation ceremonies, regardless of time, place and size, mean the same today as they did in our yesterday. Each graduate ends that which is familiar to begin a future that will unfold before them in unexpected ways, taking them down paths beyond anything they can truly imagine. It will be confusing and chaotic. Exciting and exhilarating. Filled with joy and pain. Some will thrive amid the challenges of life. Others will wither under its pressure.

So, we watch these young people graduate from high school with a prayer on our lips and hope in our hearts that God will lead, guide and protect them through each day of their lives. I am certain, whether they know it or not, they will need his presence every step of the way.

Our culture calls it commencement. A beginning. I like to think of it as a commissioning. A challenge set before them to be all God needs them to be in whatever call of life he sets before them.

He faithfully served his God under the leadership of Moses. Chosen among the leaders of his tribe to sit among Moses’ council of advisors, Joshua played a significant role in leading the Hebrew people into the promised land. As a spy, Joshua refused to see the land of Canaan as a place of unconquerable giants and impenetrable fortress cities as others did. Rather, Joshua saw the land God promised as a land of milk and honey.

Because of his trust and faith in God, Joshua was given the task originally assigned to Moses. I picture him standing ankle deep in the slow current of the River Jordan, staring across the valley in the direction of Jericho. It is three days before he would give the command to his people to cross the river and enter the land of promise.

If he was anything like most of us, and I suspect he was, he fought an internal battle with his doubts and fears, voicing a prayer for strength and wisdom he did not feel. Joshua surely understood his future would be at times confusing and chaotic. Exciting and exhilarating. Filled with joy and pain. A future in which he could thrive amid the challenges and stumble under the pressure. Like our graduates today, I suspect the butterflies in Joshua’s stomach seemed as large as eagles.

God chose that moment as his commencement. His commissioning. The Old Testament tells us that God gave his charge to the leader of his people as he stood with his toes in the Jordan. As a commission to those he calls to serve it can encourage our graduates equally well as they prepare to encounter life after high school. And, it is good news indeed.

God said to Joshua…

“Be strong and very courageous. Obey the laws Moses gave you. Do not turn away from them and you will be successful in everything you do. Study this book of the Law continually. Meditate on it day and night so you may be sure to obey all that is written in it. Only then will you succeed. I command you…be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord you God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:7-9)

To our graduates know that God has a purpose for your life, just as he did when he told Joshua, “You will lead my people to possess all the land I promised to give their ancestors.” His plan is unique to you, to the heart he has given you, the skill sets you have learned and the talents you acquire along the way. I can almost guarantee you the plan will take you places you never thought you’d go. Watch for the doors that open and don’t hesitate to walk through them.

Following God’s path will not always be easy. Life will hit with cold reality that will lead to disappointment and discouragement. Yet it will also bless in glorious ways. God encouraged Joshua to “be strong and very courageous.” The door he opens may not be the threshold you wanted to cross. Step through it anyway with courage, conviction and confidence in the Father. The door may appear to be blocked. Overcome. Persevere and rest on the promises of God.

God reminds us in this passage that success is contingent on our understanding of and obedience to the word of God. We leave high school and home desiring to exert our personal independence, to make our own choices and chart our own course in life. That’s the whole point of growing up.

Free of someone who wakes you on Sunday morning for church, it will be easy to sleep in…to set aside your faith. A word of caution. Now is not the time to express your independence from God. As you enter college or head into the work force to establish a home of your own, you will choose whether to abandon the relationship you have with Christ or to draw more deeply upon it. You have that choice.

God reminded Joshua not to stray from the teachings of God. To hold the word of God close to his heart. To meditate upon it. To study it. To draw from scripture the wisdom of God that enables us to deal with both the good and difficult times of life. This is the key to success.

Be careful also to recognize success through the eyes of God and not the eyes of the world. Success hinges upon your ability to stay focused and obedient to the plan God has for you. When we walk in his steps we walk on firm ground, able to experience joy and contentment in a life of service to the Father and to others.

As you can imagine and as the scripture tells us, Joshua and his people had to fight for all that God promised. The path God chose for Joshua was not easy. The hardships and heartaches were real. The difficulties must have seemed insurmountable at times where Joshua struggled with which way to turn and what he should do. He must have felt terribly alone at times.

You will almost certainly face hardships and heartaches throughout your life, hopefully in the measured grace of God’s blessings. You will face some of life’s hardest decisions, uncertain about which way to turn and what you should do.

Know this. God promised his presence. “…the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” It is a promise as true today as it was when Joshua stood with his toes in the Jordan River. Trust the promise. Trust in the one who made it. God will be with you wherever you go.

So the message of Joshua speaks these four things as clearly to me today as it should to you as a high school graduate.

God has a plan and purpose for each of us…in every phase of life.

He calls us to walk with strength and courage in obedience to his plan and purpose regardless of where it leads us.

We find that strength and courage and discover his will and wisdom only when we seek him and immerse ourselves in his word.

Despite the difficulties that will most assuredly come, we can rest each day knowing that he will be with us wherever we go.

Here’s the thing I’ve learned and the one of which I am reminded with every graduation I attend. The challenge of graduation isn’t a one-time event. After you’ve tossed the cap and hung the tassel from the mirror of your car, you will take the next step in the life God has planned for you. You will dip your toes in the Jordan and step into the land he has promised. From that day forward, you will find another Jordan to cross. And another. And another. And another.

To every graduate out there, whether with the Class of 2017 or any class back through time, celebrate this special day. When it is over, dip your toes in the Jordan. You can’t imagine what God has planned for you!

Walk a Mile in Their Shoes

Author’s Note: I originally published this devotional two weeks ago, but my blog site developed some issues. While it posted on my personal webpage, www.drkirklewis.com, it did not get sent to my subscribers or shared on my social media pages. We’ve managed to repair our social media access (I think), but the subscriber links are still down. We’re working on it and hope to have things back in order soon. I sincerely apologize.

Background Passages: Hebrews 13:3; Luke 6:31-36; Philippians 2:5-8

Cecil Rhodes, the British statesman and financier who used his wealth to endow the famous Rhodes Scholarship, had a reputation for his elegant fashion sense and impeccable dress. One year, Rhodes invited one of his scholarship recipients to his home to dine with him and a number of England’s well-to-do.

The young man came from a poor family. He wore his best suit to dinner, though stained and a little too small. He was embarrassed upon his arrival to find all the other guests in full evening dress. Rhodes, dressed in his tuxedo, was about to enter the dining room when he saw the young man and his discomfort. He went back upstairs, appearing at the dining table a few minutes later in a shabby, old blue suit.

Rhodes understood the distress the young man felt. Rather than add to the misery of another, he set aside his personal preference to connect with this young man of promise.

Empathy.

Empathy feels what another feels. Sees the world from another’s perspective. Understands as fully as possible what another experiences. It is one thing to feel, see and understand the life of another. It’s a great first step. But, it seems to me, true empathy compels us to act…to walk an extra mile.

We can imagine horror experienced by the family whose home is wiped out by flood or fire. We have difficulty at times imaging the struggles of learning disabled when learning comes easily to us. We struggle in our response to those who are depressed if we ourselves have never experienced hopelessness. Empathy is difficult.

Empathy is also inconvenient, especially when life is going our way. I can see the plight of the poor and the afflicted, but do not wish to sully my hands in the work it would take to help them work through their own difficulties. We rationalize the distance we keep by blaming them for their own predicament.

As he closed out his letter, the writer of Hebrews exhorted believers to “Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.”

Those encouragements go far beyond simply feeling sorrow or sympathy for those who are troubled. It calls upon us to feel with them as if the suffering were our own. To put ourselves in their shoes. To see the world…and ourselves…through their eyes.

Jesus, the personification of God’s empathy toward a lost world, shows us the full expression of empathy as he introduces to us his concept we know as the Golden Rule. He taught that one could sum up the entire content of the Old Testament law and prophets by “doing to others what you would have them do to you.” To act in ways toward others as you wish others to act toward you.

The concept Jesus introduced was not a new concept. Many other religions and philosophies offer a similar message, though often presented in negative form. In ancient Egypt, the statement read, “That which you hate to be done to you, do not do to another.” In ancient Greece, “Do not do to others that which angers you when they do it to you.” Self-preservation is not empathy.

When Jesus asks us to treat others as we want to be treated, he is not saying: “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” It’s so much more than that. It is a proactive directive. Empathy takes pre-emptive action to meet the needs of others because we feel the distress as if it were our own. So, we act, treating others as we would hope others would treat us if we found ourselves in similar circumstances.

We’re not simply to avoid doing things that hurt others because we don’t want to be hurt in the same way. Instead, every action toward others should be expressed in the love of Christ. He’s saying: Take the risk of giving your time, your energy, your resources…in essence, giving yourself… to ease the pain of another whether that person is a friend or stranger.

Jesus followed this command by telling us how to live an empathetic life. He explained, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that…Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything in back…Be merciful (other translations use the words ‘compassionate,’ ’empathetic’), just as your Father is merciful.”

Living a Christ-like life teaches us that religion and faith are not a just set of beliefs. It is not the dogma of the day. Christianity, if it is to be viable and real in our lives, is about what we do for the poor with too little to eat, too little to wear and little or no shelter over their heads. It is about what we do for the sick and the elderly, in desperate need of our touch. It is about what we do for the disenfranchised of society who find themselves distanced from the opportunities we enjoy.

Jesus teaches us that empathy, as difficult and inconvenient as it can be at times, ought to compel us to act differently when we encounter human need. To understand the needs of others as if they were our own.

We have the perfect example in the life of Christ. Paul said as much to the Philippian church.

“Your attitude should be the same as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness.” Leaving the throne of God to become man is the ultimate in empathy. A deliberate, purposeful, life-giving act of empathy that led straight to the cross.

Today, it seems most people walk the world blind to the feelings and needs of others. If they disagree with us, if they live differently than us, if they respond to the challenges they face in ways we would not, we chastise them for not reacting as we assume we would react in similar circumstances. I’m not sure we will ever impact the world for Christ until we can walk a mile in their shoes.

I hope God challenges all of us this week to embrace the empathy of Christ as we encounter the needs of the world around.

When All We Hear Is Silence

Background Passages: John 9:31; Jeremiah 29:11; Hebrews 11:1, and 2 Timothy 3:14-17

President Franklin Roosevelt hosted many state receptions, locking his polio-weakened legs into braces, and greeting the hundreds of men and women who came to his events to see and be seen. He complained to an aide one day that no one paid real attention to what he said as they passed through the receiving line.

During one particular reception, Roosevelt smiled at each person who came through the line, shaking his or her hand. Amid his words of greeting, he murmured to each one, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” The guests responded to his greetings with inane comments: “Marvelous party, Mr. President.” “Keep up the good work, Mr. President.” “God, bless you, Mr. President.” They truly were not listening.

Toward the end of the evening while greeting the ambassador from Boliva, the president muttered his mock confession of his grandmother’s demise. Without missing a beat, the ambassador, who understood the importance of listening, leaned in and whispered, “I’m sure she had it coming, Mr. President.”

We’ve all felt like no one was listening to us from time to time, but when we talked to God, we want him to respond appropriately. We want answers to our prayers. “God, please change…” “God, please fix…” “God, only you can heal…” “God, please protect…”

We utter those prayers with the expectation that the God who loves us will answer. Instead, we hear the unnerving and uncomfortable sound of silence. No immediate change of life circumstance. No quick resolution to the problems we face. No miraculous healing.

Therein lies an uneasy truth for those of us who place our trust in God. His mercy and his power cannot be summoned like a genie in a bottle, rising in a puff of smoke to make our wishes come true. It seems faith, by definition, must remain firm even when the answers don’t come and circumstances don’t change. The writer of Hebrews said, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

What do we do when our prayers of anguish and despair are met with silence?

Just because God remains silent doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. God’s silence is purposeful. It is not malicious. Perhaps the silence is meant to remind us he has already provided an answer that we chose to ignore in the past. Perhaps we need time to process what is happening and what comes next. Perhaps the silence galvanizes our God-given strength amid the difficult times of life.

Regardless of how lost and alone we may feel, God listens to his children. The promise of John 9 is that God stands ready to “listen to those who worship him and do his will.” Such is the nature of faith and trust.

When your prayers and pleas to God find only silence, hang in there. I believe everything God does or does not do unfolds by plan and purpose. Your request didn’t catch him off guard. It didn’t confound him. He doesn’t need to think about it and get back to us later. God knows the desires of our hearts. When we can’t hear him, we must hold tightly to our faith knowing his plan for our lives is better than anything we can devise on our own. So, hang in there. Hold on. Stay true and trust.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jer. 29:11

When you get right down to it, the silence we hear from God is often self-imposed. We want the manna from heaven. We want to hear that the cup will pass before us. In truth, we don’t need a voice from a burning bush when he has provided an answer for every concern we face, inspired into the hearts of men and written in his word. It is his voice we hear from mouth of Jeremiah. His voice that echoes off the shores of Galilee. His voice that whispers from Gethsemane.

One finds in the Bible answers to every aspect of life. We crave the supernatural when it comes to our prayers. When the cancer continues to grow or the child continues to rebel or the troubles continue to mount, we feel as though God isn’t listening and doesn’t care. We agonize in the silence, thinking God has nothing to say to us.

God speaks to us through words he spoke to men and women just like us through his prophets and recorded in the Old Testament. He speaks to us through the life and ministry of Jesus and those who learned at his feet. He speaks to us in the inspired, written word that is the Bible.

God’s silence is not because he isn’t speaking. It is because we aren’t spending time in his word–reading, studying, learning and listening–and allowing the Holy Spirit to move our hearts as we read, “There it is, Kirk. That’s the answer you’ve been seeking.”

Paul shared as much with Timothy as he reminded him of what the young pastor had learned since childhood.

“All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”

When all we hear is silence, maybe that’s the best time to read.

How Can I Keep From Singing

Background Passage: Psalm 59:16-17

The hectic nature of life the week brings about a short post. I’m currently with a small group of people from my church this week on a mission trip to Collique, Peru, to build more permanent shelters for some of the families in this impoverished community tucked in the hills northeast of Lima. These are not houses as you and I understand them, but they are homes for families with little more than a roof above their heads.

This is just my second year to participate. Like the others in my group, most of whom have made this trip multiple times, I end each day amazed at how little these wonderful people have and great their joy in comparison.

Their smiles and their constant expressions of gratitude transcend the language barriers and cultural differences between us, serving as a dynamic testimony to the power of Christ to fill a heart with joy. Theirs is a faith that truly sustains through every circumstance.

For me, and I’m certain for others in our group, it is a teachable moment. These people with whom we’ve been blessed to work this week have so little. We have so much. They endure though faced with a life we can scarcely imagine. We need to remember…no, I need to remember…that despite the turmoil I feel at times, God gives me voice to declare my love for him. Our relationship with God should enable us to sing when others…lost without him…can’t hear a note.

British vocalist James Loynes recently recorded a beautiful song written by Robert Lowry, a 19th century Baptist minister and composer. The melody and words resonate on every level. The final stanza offers this word.

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing.
All things are mine since I am his,
How can I keep from singing?

Listen to the video. Hear the gentle reminder. How can you keep from singing?

Time To Be a Monkey Fist

Background Passages: Psalm 107:23-30; 2 Corinthians 8:8-9; 16-17

I don’t know if you caught the YouTube video recently of cruise ship passengers riding out a storm in the North Atlantic where 30-40 foot waves regularly crashed against the window of their cabin. It’s one of those unnerving images of pending disaster that haunts a lot of travelers whether they travel by sea or by air. I’ve never cruised in waters that rough, but, in almost every port, I remember the gratifying feeling of being docked securely in the harbor. It’s a feeling similar to when your plane lands safety at its destination. Being back on solid ground offers great comfort.

As we arrived in that safe harbor on our last cruise, I watched from the deck of the ship as the captain used his starboard thrusters to ease the vessel toward the pier. He stopped the thrusters, leaving the ship 30 feet from the dock. The crew scurried to moor the ship by sending hawsers—thick ropes three inches in diameter–across the void from the ship to the bollards on shore. I remember thinking how hard it would be to toss the heavy ropes that distance to the pier.

Instead, the crew attached a 60-foot, thin rope to a rope ball about six inches in diameter, tying the ball to the hawser. They swung the ball around on the end of the rope like David’s slingshot and sent it flying across the emptiness between the ship and pier, carrying the thin line behind it. The workers on the dock picked it up, pulled the rope across the water, eventually dragging the hawser with it. They tightened the hawser, drawing and securing the ship close enough to the pier for passengers to disembark. It was a slick operation that allowed us once again to step upon firm ground.

I’m told the thick ball at the end of the thin rope was called a “monkey fist.” In the maritime world, the monkey fist, which dates back to the early 17th century, is a specialized knot wrapped around a stone, an iron ball or other heavy weight to make it easier to toss the heavy hawser onto the dock.

It’s this monkey fist that stirred my thoughts today.

Over the past several weeks, several friends and family members have found themselves at sea, struggling in the midst of life’s storms, most of which are not of their making. These difficulties, like waves on the ocean, crash against our lives threatening to sink even the strongest among us into depression and despair.

The psalmist used the poetic language of ancient mariners to indicate the difficulties we sometimes face.

“They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
In their peril their courage melted away.
They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
They were at wits end.”

Yet, the psalmist knew that God provided a safe harbor for those who trust him and call upon his name.

“Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
The waves of the sea were hushed.
They were glad when it grew calm,
And he guided them to their desired harbor.”

There is good news for those of us who commit our lives to Christ and know how precious it is to have him as our safe harbor. When the storms of life batter us, we know we can tie ourselves securely to him, confident that once we wrap our hawser around his bollard, nothing will separate us from his safe keeping. We know within the trouble and distress, he can calm the storm to a hushed whisper.

I have been in that position. The difficulty comes when my strength fails. When my courage melts away. When I am at my wits end. I can’t draw close enough to the Father on my own to toss him my mooring line. My burden too heavy. The distance between me and the Father too great. The line itself much too short.

In times like that, I need someone to hurl the monkey fist. Someone to make it easier to drag my hawser to the dock and tie it off to the bollard, safe within the arms of God’s love, care and protection. Invariably, I find a pastor, a spouse, a friend, and at times, a stranger, willing to tie all things together through word or deed that allows me to reconnect with God in the way I need it most.

We will all need that connection from time to time. Paul knew what it meant to find comfort in Christ. He wrote in 2 Corinthians 8:8-9, 16-17:

“We are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed…Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”

When our batteries need recharging or when we need time out of the wind and wave to gather ourselves again for ministry and service, it’s comforting to know that we have a haven in Christ. I am grateful in my life for those who gripped and tossed the monkey fist on my behalf when the safe harbor seemed so far away.

This week many individuals will cross our path with lives torn apart by broken relationships, lost jobs, illness, injury and death. Those who struggle to make ends meet. Those with little hope for the future. Their seas are high and frightening.

We must look for opportunities to toss the monkey fist for those in need of the peace and comfort that only God can provide. May we be the ones that draw their storm-tossed vessel to the safety of the harbor and allow them to set their feet again on solid ground.

The Elephant in the Room

Background Passages: John 10:30-34; John 14:1-11

Given our difficulty as Christians in handling some of the social issues of the day, it seems we have a hard time understanding the true character and nature of God. We make attempts to classify him by putting God in a box of our own creation. We define him on our terms and, too often, in our image. If we need God to be anti-immigrant, we find a way to make him so. If we need God to take a stance on health care for the poor, we make it for him. If we need God to smite a specific nation, we find a way to justify the smiting.

It has been that way since the beginning. Mankind has always sought to define God. It’s why the ancients worshipped idols. Why they invented a god for every act of nature. Throughout history mankind has defined God within the limits of his understanding. God knew it would happen when he created us, knowing one day he would reveal himself to his creation in a special way.

I remember my third grade teacher, Ms. Wallace, reading a specific poem in class. It made me laugh. John Godfrey Saxe, a 19th century American satirist and poet, penned his poem The Blind Men and the Elephant in 1874, his take on an old Hindu story. Though entertaining, I did not find it particularly provocative until it was read again in my university philosophy class. The poem, as interpreted by a number of West Texas philosophers, became emblematic of the search for moral truth and necessity of religious tolerance.

I stumbled across the poem again this week in my study. Allow me to set aside the extended philosophical and theological debate with apologies to the original Hindu storyteller and to Saxe.

The poem, based on an old Hindu text, tells the story of six blind men who had never encountered an elephant. When given the chance to get up close and personal with the massive beast, they each touched a different part of the animal. One the elephant’s side. Another its tail. One its trunk. Another its ear. And, so on. When asked, then, to describe the elephant, each responded within his only frame of reference. Why, certainly, the elephant was like a wall…a rope…a snake…a fan…

Take a look at the last two stanzas.

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong.

So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean
And prate on about the Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

Work with me here and forgive the metaphor. God wants a relationship with us. He wants us to know him. We were unable to fully grasp his character and nature as long as God stayed in his heaven. So, he became the elephant in the room, introducing himself to the world through his son Jesus Christ. He sent his son into the world to walk among us, to reveal the nature and character to God to us in the words he spoke and the ministry he performed.

Still we struggled to understand. As Jesus prepared his disciples for his death on the cross and the inevitable time when they would carrying on his work without his physical presence among them, the disciples had a hard time putting Jesus and God together.

Jesus offered comfort amid their confusion. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me.” He told them he would prepare a place for them in his father’s house and that they knew how to get there. Thomas, ever confused, confessed his lack of understanding. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, the life…If you really know me, you will know my Father as well.” In the haze of uncertainty, Phillip asked Jesus to “show us the father. That will be enough.”

Jesus’ sad response to Phillip explains to us how we can begin to know the character and nature of God. “Phillip,” Jesus said, “don’t you know me, even after I have been among you for such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the father…Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and he is in me or at least believe in the evidence of the works themselves.”

So if we have trouble understanding the character and nature of God, we need look no further than the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. Our understanding of him, grows the more we touch him. The more we experience him. So, like the blind men with the elephant, if we limit our experiences with Christ we will never know all we can about who he is…who God is.

You see, God is not passive and silent, forcing us to guess about his nature and what he expects of us. He tells us what he likes and what he expects. God, in Jesus Christ, gave us a standard by which to measure our actions and our thoughts.

We don’t have to grope in the darkness to understand God from a limited perspective. Our understanding comes through the direct revelation of God through Jesus Christ. No other religion makes a similar claim. Jesus declared it clearly and succinctly. “I and my Father are one.” He declared to his disciples, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.”

How much more would we learn of God if, unlike the blind men, we didn’t stop with that first touch? God calls us to look beyond the nail-scared hands, as important as that experience might be. Watch, listen, and learn from the one God sent into the world to show us how to live.