Author: Kirk Lewis

Choose One Chair

Background Passages: Joshua 24:14-15, Matthew 6:21, 24, Luke 10:25-28

In one of those humorous snippets in the Reader’s Digest a few years ago, a woman shared about flying on a small airplane. The lone flight attendant came down the aisle and asked the man in the row in front of her if he would like dinner.

He said, “What are my choices?”

She smiled sweetly and replied, “Yes or no?”

On one hand, we’d like life to be that simple. The choices limited and clear-cut. Most of the time life is not that simple. In our chaotic world we face multiple decision points daily that impact the way we live and relate to one another and to God.

Too often, we straddle the fence, holding on to the ways of the world on one side and trying to please God on the other. In reality, in the question of a choice between what the world offers and what God requires, the answer is a simple “yes or no.”

Famed tenor Luciana Pavarotti once talked about the influence of his father upon his life. The star of the Metropolitan Opera said his father, recognizing his gift, urged him to work hard to develop his voice. Pavarotti studied under Arrigo Pola, a professional tenor in Modena, Italy. Covering his options, Pavarotti also enrolled in a teacher’s college.

When he graduated, he asked his father if he should be a teacher or a singer.

“Luciana,” his father replied, “if you try to sit on two chairs, you will fall between them. For life, you must choose one chair.”

Pavarotti said, “I chose one. It took seven years of study and frustration before I made my first professional appearance. It took another seven to reach the Metropolitan Opera. And now I think whether it is laying bricks, writing a book…whatever we choose…we should give ourselves to it. Commitment, that’s the key. Choose one chair.”

I marvel at the father’s wisdom. It is difficult to split our focus if we want to find success in anything. It is especially sage advice as we enter a new year in faith and service to God.

When it comes to our faith commitment for 2022, maybe it’s time to say “yes or no.” Maybe it’s time to choose one chair.

It had been a period of rest for Israel. The pitched battles fought to conquer the Promised Land, were now a part of their history. They had lived for years in the land God promised in relative peace. Joshua, their leader during this tumultuous time, had grown old.

Knowing his time on earth was ending, Joshua called together the leaders of every tribe. He took the opportunity to remind them of God’s promises fulfilled. The battles he fought for them. The victories he had secured on their behalf. He told them to remember it all.

Joshua reminded them of God’s unfailing presence, provision and protection. Then, he challenged them to live out their lives in service and worship to the one true God.

“Now fear the Lord and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your forefathers worshiped beyond the river and in Egypt and serve the Lord. But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether it be the gods your forefathers served beyond the river or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living. But, as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” (Joshua 24:14-15)

Joshua said, for all intents and purposes, “Choose one chair.”

He laid his challenge clearly before them. Do what you will, but I will serve the Lord.

Joshua chose his chair.

In one way Jesus also talked about choosing one chair.

Jesus warned his followers that…

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also…No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matthew 6:21, 24)

Jesus taught that the things we value reveal our hearts. If all the things we value and set our hearts upon are of this world, then our only interest will be in things of this world and not on the things of God.

William Barclay wrote, “Jesus never taught that the things of the world are unimportant; but he said and implied over and over again that its importance is not in itself, but in that to which it leads. Therefore, a man should never lose his heart to this world and to the things of this world for his eyes ought ever to be fixed on the world beyond.” In other words, yes or no. Choose one chair.

Jesus reminded his disciples that splitting our loyalties between two worlds never works. The passage in scripture suggests that no one can serve two masters, but that meaning is not nearly strong enough. The Greek word translated “serve” means “to be a slave to.” The word for “master” equates to “absolute ownership.” The more literal translation is that no man can be a slave to two owners.

Barclay emphasized our relationship to God. He, and he alone, must be the absolute and undisputed master (Lord and boss) of our lives. It is never a matter of what I want to do, but what God desires of me.

Jesus declared to his followers, “You cannot serve God and money.” The Hebrew word for “money,” is better translated “material possessions.” It speaks in some ways to the way we allow other things to take hold of our lives. Do we put our trust in God or in the things of this world?

We enter a new year with a world of chairs…a world of choices. It has been that way since Adam and Eve tasted the apple. We determine the God or gods we serve by the decisions we make. By those things we choose to chase.

I ended last year knowing that I didn’t always make the best choices in my service to God. I ended last year knowing I often tried to hide parts of myself from God. I ended last year recognizing how often I held back certain aspects of life, unwilling to completely surrender my life to him.

Those aspects of my life are the gods beyond the river to which I tend to cling. They are the choices I made to serve a different master while claiming to serve God.

Nicodemus, a devout Pharisee, came to Jesus under the cover of darkness, to ask a probing and penetrating question. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Not the standard trick question asked by so many of the religious leaders who wished to silence and discredit Jesus. Nicodemus approached Jesus sincerely, with a desire to know.

Jesus asked him to clarify what the law said. Nicodemus replied with words from the Torah.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength and with all your mind…and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:25-27)

Jesus’s reply was straightforward. “Do this and you shall live.” What came next was a rich discussion about being born again. Reprioritizing one’s life. Choosing one chair.

This verse, along with those in Joshua and Matthew remind me that when I get attached to my things or my desires, when I put my focus somewhere other than God’s will for my life, I cannot serve God with all my heart, mind, strength and soul. There can be no fence straddling. No neutrality. Those verses draw a line in the sand. I am called each day…each hour of the day…to choose whom I will serve. Yes or no. I must choose one chair.

Joshua made a radical, public statement: “I have chosen the Lord!” I must be willing to state the same.

A new year is a time for resolutions, those internal promises we make to eliminate the bad habits and embrace a higher version of ourselves. Maybe you face the same choice in this new year.

Joshua invited the people of Israel to make their choice. Choose one chair.

God extends this same invitation to us and we must decide. Choose one chair.

Will we love him with all our heart, soul, mind and strength? Choose one chair.

Once we choose God’s chair, we put our decision into practice. We choose to come to him. We choose to serve him daily.

Joshua’s passionate choice was personal and permanent. As I look to the new year, I join him in his commitment. I ask you to do the same. Only then will we change our lives, our families, our church, our community, our country, our world.

Today, I make this my new year’s resolution, “But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”

Together in 2022, let’s choose his chair.

The Cradle, The Child, The Change

Background Passage: Luke 1:26-38; Luke 2:1-52; Matthew 1:20-21, John 3:16-17, Romans 12:2

The Christmas story of the Bible remains one of the world’s most cherished stories for more than one-third of the world’s population. We find a measure of comfort that we are somehow not alone in this world…that God is with us.

I wonder if the story has grown too familiar. Sometimes, it feels as though the luster of God’s amazing gift is dimmed by time and diminished in its telling and retelling. To keep God’s grace gift fresh, I urge you to look beyond the familiar and find…

The Cradle

Crudely cut and hastily made, the innkeeper long ago fashioned a stable from the small cave cut into the limestone behind his home. An afterthought. A casual convenience for travelers who needed a place to livery their animals for an evening.

Within the rocky cave, he chiseled a manger from a protruding slab of rock, hollowing out the stone as a roughly cut and casually built feed trough. The man was no craftsman. He took little time to measure its dimensions or smooth its sides. He left it crude and rough around the edges. A coarse creation, suitable only, it seemed, for one insignificant purpose.

A manger.

A feed trough.

A construction scarcely given a second thought. Invisible to the world around it.

Until this day.

Inside the stable, despite the chill of the evening, a young woman lay drenched in sweat, exhausted by days of travel and hours in labor. Her husband, a young carpenter, paced outside the shelter. Though sympathetic to the pain she bore, like most fathers, he was clueless to its intensity.

He heard a midwife urging one more push. With a guttural groan that made the nervous animals scatter in their stalls and pull against their reins, the woman delivered her son. Tears and laughter comingled with each exhausted breath.

The midwife cleaned the baby as he shivered and cried in the night. The old woman rested the swaddled child upon the mother’s chest. The baby’s cries calmed as he heard the reassuring rhythm of her heart.

While Mary sang a lullaby to her child, Joseph quickly swept the stable of its filth-stained dirt. As he pulled the animal-stained hay from the manger, he noticed its sharp edges. A stone mason and carpenter, Joseph pulled a mallet and chisel from the knapsack. With practiced hands, he smoothed the sharp edges and rough bottom, added new hay and a soft blanket. In the glow of that first Christmas morning, the manger, no longer a rough-hewn feed trough, became a cradle.

In one moment beyond comprehension, God entered his creation as a baby born into a world that had grown as spiritually cold as the cave in which he was born. A world as morally crude as the manger in which he rested.

When filled with God’s love personified in the Christ-child, the unsightly manger became the cradle of Life Abundant, transformed in its purpose by the presence of Emmanuel.

God with us.

Perhaps the manger and its crude construction mirror the mess we’ve made in our lives. We hurriedly chisel our life from the stone, giving little thought to the purpose for which we were created. Whether we live a life of irreverent insurrection or one of unintentional indifference, we find our spiritual edges a little too sharp, a little too crude, a little too rough around the edges. A coarse creation, suitable only, it seems, for insignificant purposes.

Yet, in one miraculous birth, in one divine delivery, God changed everything.

When the manger became a cradle, God came to His world as one of us. To offer himself as the perfect portrait of Godly living.

Because the manger became a cradle, the baby would grow into a savior, to offer himself as a perfect sacrifice for a world that lost its way.

Because the manger became a cradle, Christmas means more than the tinsel and trimmings that the world celebrates.

Because the manger became a cradle, the Christ-Child gives us the chance to turn our empty lives into Life Abundant. God smooths the rough edges and transforms our hearts and our purpose through the constant presence of Emmanuel.

God with us.

Then, to keep God’s grace gift fresh, I urge you to look beyond the cradle and find…

The Child

Born to human parents, but also divine. It is a difficult concept to grasp. Impossible to truly understand. So, we who believe accept it by faith just as his earthly parents did.

Though implanted with God’s DNA, to understand the full measure of what it meant to be Savior did not come instinctively to Jesus. He learned. He learned at the feet of Joseph who surely shared his dream.

“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20-21)

He learned on the lap of his mother who surely shared the angel’s words.

“Do not be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

As he grew, he learned from the teachers of God’s word. When he turned 12-years-old, he journeyed to the Temple with his parents. The child immersed himself in his father’s word, failing to join his family for the trip home.

“They found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking questions…” (Luke 2:46)

Jesus spent time learning more about “his Father’s business.” Eventually, he returned with his parents to Nazareth where “Jesus grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and men.” (Luke 2:41-52)

God continued to prepare the child for the purpose for which he was sent. This child, who heard his parents’ stories, who studied scripture with the learned men of his day, constantly felt the tug of God’s voice revealing to him who he was and the purpose for which he was sent. This same child, born in a manger, stood as a man at a wedding feast in Cana, looking into the eyes of his mother telling her, “My hour has not yet come.” This same child read in his mother’s eyes and heard her tell the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Her way of saying, “It is time.”

From that day forward, Jesus went about doing his father’s business, drawing others to him, performing miracles and teaching them about repentance and the depth of God’s love…teaching them about grace.

That child from the manger sat in an olive grove answering the probing questions of Nicodemus about the path to eternal life. Jesus surely reflected upon his own birth when he said, “You must be born again.”

That child from the manger told that religious leader that he had come to take on the sins of a world because “God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:16-17)

That child in a cradle was God’s grace gift of salvation. The man he grew to be…became a savior.

Understanding our relationship to God and his will for our lives is not implanted naturally into our DNA just because we are born to Christian parents or attend church regularly. Our understanding of what God requires of us comes from listening to God’s spirit and following Jesus’ lead.

We learn. We grow. We spend time sitting among the teachers, studying scripture and asking questions with a heart’s desire to grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and men…just as Jesus did. We see the child in the cradle and are reminded that God loved us so much that he sent his son to save us and the world around us through him.

Then, to keep God’s grace gift fresh this Christmas, I urge you to look beyond the cradle, see the savior and commit to…

The Change

As Christians, we get pulled into the celebration of the Christmas holiday. We delight in the lights, the decorations and the excited faces of the children opening Santa’s presents. We enjoy our parties with friends and visits with our extended families. It’s easy to be lost in the business and busyness of Christmas.

Those of us who celebrate the birth of Jesus ought to reflect upon its meaning, using the day as a reminder of God’s plan and purpose to bring the world back into relationship with him by sending is Son. It is far too easy for many of us to revel in the birth of the child and forget that God expects more from us.

What do we do after we read that beautiful story for the last time this year? After we snuff out the Advent candles? After we sing the last carol? After we dismantle the Nativity scenes? What do we do after we celebrate the birth of the Christ child? What do we do when Christmas is over? What change does it bring to our lives?

You see, the Christmas story does not end with the birth of Jesus. It doesn’t even end with his death and resurrection. Once the baby is born and a savior’s act complete, the story and its impact should serve as a catalyst for God to change our lives.

Christmas is a reminder that God will work in our lives, but only to the extent that we allow him. Christmas must change our hearts and our minds, not just on the surface, but from the inside out.

Though he didn’t celebrate Christmas as we do, the Apostle Paul would be the first to tell you about being changed. In a blinding revelation on the road to Damascus, he saw before him God’s plan of redemption evidenced in the life of Christ…from his birth to his resurrection and his ever-present spirit. It was a life-changing encounter. It’s one reason he could encourage the Christians in Rome to set aside the ways of the world for the life Christ offers.

“Do not conform to the pattern of the world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:2)

You see, Christmas is just a holiday unless we let God chisel away the rough edges of our lives to make our hearts a comfortable place for the Christ child to rest. It is just a holiday unless we see Jesus as more than a baby in a manger and accept him as a savior and Lord. Christmas is just a holiday unless we allow the child who became savior to transform our hearts and minds in such a way that we are ever obedient to his will in all things.

“You shall call him Jesus, Emmanuel…God with us.”

That’s Christmas to me.

Behold, The Wonder of Christmas

Background Passages: Matthew 1, Luke 2, John 14:27, and Philippians 4:7

I am not sure how I ended up on their email list. Like other unwanted SPAM messages, the first one just appeared. Maybe Alexa overheard a conversation I had with Robin about the definition of some obscure word. When the first email for Word Genius arrived, I opened it.

The daily emails give a “word of the day,” tell its origin and its part of speech, define it, and use it in a sentence. Then, it will show a line graph revealing its height in popularity of usage over the years.

For example, today’s word was illation.

Illation is a noun. It comes from Latin, originating in the 16th century. It’s definition: “An action of inferring or drawing a conclusion; an inference.”

The chart shows that the word illation had its period of highest usage at the turn of the 19th century. It has fallen out of favor over the last 221 years.

If you’ve come to the illation that I decided not to unsubscribe to the Word Genius emails, you are correct.

Other new words I’ve learned from Word Genius recently. Tellurian. Craquelure. Hypocoristic. Precator. I could tell you what these words mean, but if you look them up, you’re more apt to remember. (I just had a flashback to my high school English teacher Mrs. Brown.)

Today, however, I have two much more familiar words for you that come from the story of that first Christmas. Behold. Wonder.

Now, I can’t remember the last time I used the word behold in a sentence before today unless I was quoting the Bible. It just doesn’t come up much in today’s conversation. Take it out of its context in the King James Bible and behold is a rather obscure word in today’s English.

Behold derives from the Latin observo, to keep. Its definition is “to fix the eyes upon, to see with attention, to observe with care.”

Think John 1.

“Behold the lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.”

It can also mean “to fix attention upon an object, to attend, direct or fix the mind upon.”

Think Revelation 3

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”

Terry Sellars, pastor of First Baptist Church, Ludowici, GA, wrote about the significance of behold in the Christmas narrative. We see the word used most often in the Bible as a directive, expressing command or an exhortation.

I think that’s why the word caught my attention as I read the Christmas story. When we think about the importance of the Christmas story we must first go back to the Old Testament prophets. This whole idea was not a last-minute course correction by God to the world’s troubles. It was part of his plan from the beginning. Isaiah told us so.

“Therefore, the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” (Isaiah 7:14)

As the events unfold centuries later, we hear Gabriel breaking the news to Mary.

“And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.” (Luke 1:31)

After momentarily processing what Gabriel had revealed to her, Mary responded to the frightful, but delightful, good news.

“And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word. And the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:38)

Next we hear the praises of the busy angel who appeared to the shepherds, declaring the wondrous news of the savior’s birth.

“And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.” (Luke 2:10)

We hear the word again in the testimony of Simeon who had waited his whole life for this one moment.

“And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, ‘Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel.”

Behold isn’t just an exclamation. It isn’t God saying to us, “Listen up, please!” It is an imperative. A command. It is a “fix-your-heart-and-mind-upon-this-above-all-else,” moment.

We get so busy doing things at Christmas that the “behold” comes across as a whimpering whisper of a suggestion when it ought to be shouted from the mountaintops with clear authority. For this is that historical moment when God’s love came down with heavenly intent. It’s not just Christmas. It’s the beginning of God’s gift of salvation to a lost and confused world.

Here comes the second word. Wonder. Because we no longer hear the behold as an imperative, we’ve lost the “wonder” that is Christmas.

Wonder is not an archaic word by any means. I often wonder where I left my keys. I wonder when this pandemic will ever end. I wonder why bad things happen to good people. I wonder a great many things.

I am not talking about that kind of wonder. I’m talking about the wide-eye sense of amazement that was so much a part of our lives at Christmas when we were kids. As secularized as Christmas has become over my lifetime, I do remember the absolute wonder of laying out that old Nativity scene under the tree. The wonder inspired by the familiar Christmas carols: Away in a Manger. Silent Night. O, Little Town of Bethlehem.

Those times of being agog and filled with awe of the aura surrounding Christ’s birth was a time when we believed with all our being that God had entered the world for one purpose. To love us so much that he gave his only Son that whoever chose to believe in him would have life abundant and eternal.

We tend to lose that sense of wonder during the hectic moments of life. I find myself struggling to find wonder at a time when my family is hurting. I know others who feel the same worry and angst. Sellers also wrote in a separate piece that in such times as these, we need to remember that even as their worlds turned upside down…

Mary wondered.

Joseph wondered.

The shepherds wondered.

The angels wondered.

The wise men wondered.

While they may have wondered in the sense of trying to figure out what the things they experienced might mean, I think they also experience a sense of wonder…marveling at how blessed they were to be a part of God’s great story. We are a part of God’s great story.

Maybe it’s time to get it back, despite the issues we face, to the wonder of what Christmas means. The Christmas story doesn’t end with the baby in a manger. It doesn’t end with a cross. It doesn’t end with an empty tomb.

It lives on in the faith of those who believe God’s love is strong enough to overcome life’s darkest moments. It lives knowing that, even when life is a struggle, we are not alone. The wonder of Christmas is that God, through Jesus Christ, not only shared his gift of salvation, but also the gifts of his presence and power in the most brutal of times.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” (John 14:27)

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:7)

In those moments of clarity amid the struggles, I no longer wonder in the context of being uncertain. Instead, I marvel in wonder at the work of God and the peace he can bring when I entrust everything to him.

Behold the Wonder of Christmas.

 

Encounter with a Prayer Warrior

Background Passages: I Samuel 1:10, Daniel 9:3-4, and James 5:13-16

I’m almost a week late with this Bible study. I sat down several times last week to study and prepare. My heart wasn’t in it. The words wouldn’t come.

I wish I could attribute my delay to writer’s block, but the reason was far more personal. My oldest son was in St. Luke’s dealing with the aftermath of a stroke. The tension of those early, uncertain days hit with full force every time I sat still for any length of time. Clearing my mind sufficiently to write a coherent sentence bordered on the impossible.

Before I go further, I’ll share a praise to God and the doctors and physical therapists he placed in Adam’s life. Our son is home now with his family, his condition and situation vastly improved over this time a week ago. Physical therapy will continue, but the prognosis is incredibly positive for full recovery.

Adam and Jordan dealt with the immediate impact of his situation while we could only stand at a distance, help take care of our grandchildren and pray. As those not directly and immediately impacted by the crisis, we discovered again what we knew to be true, but chose to forget from the last family crisis we experienced. Life goes on. It doesn’t respect our need to process the situation. It keeps coming. That’s not always a bad thing when God is at work.

As a part of my volunteer work in the community, I chair the Steering Committee of the McDonald’s Texas Invitational Basketball Tournament. The role carries with it a responsibility to be present and engaged with sponsors, coaches, officials and volunteers during the three-day event. Unable to go to the hospital due to Covid restrictions, Robin and I attended the games with our hearts troubled and our brains in a deep fog.

The two of us grabbed dinner and sat at an empty table in one of the hospitality rooms. Neither of us said much. Lost in our own thoughts. A woman entered, picked up her dinner and sat at an empty table next to us. Robin invited her to sit with us. She picked up her tray and sat next to me. We began to visit, my mind doing its best to focus on the conversation.

Nzinga Rideaux told us she was a board member for the Houston area Fellowship of Christian Athletes. She was helping man the organization’s booth at Phillips Fieldhouse. The conversation turned to family and I shared with her about Adam and his condition.

In a room filled with 35-40 volunteers, coaches and referees, she pushed her plate aside, grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s pray right now.” The words she spoke for the next two minutes were both heaven sent and heaven directed. The power in her spirit flowed as eloquently as her words. With that final “Amen,” I recall thinking, there is no way God could ignore that petition. So powerful were her words, it seemed God now had little choice but to make Adam well. How could he refuse that woman?

Chinese pastor Watchman Nee might have had a woman like Nzinga in mind when he said, “Our prayers lay the track down on which God’s power can come. Like a mighty locomotive, his power is irresistible, but it cannot reach us without the rails.” In my life last week, Nzinga drove the Golden Spike into God’s trans-spiritual railroad. She lifted my heart from its despair and renewed my hope.

I know Robin and I had prayed fervently for God’s hand upon Adam. I know God heard our prayers. Nzinga, however, is the pure definition of a “prayer warrior.” I’m pretty sure he sped up the process when Nzinga prayed.

A prayer warrior is someone known for regularly interceding before God on behalf of others. Someone who stands between you and the trouble afflicting your life, calling down the presence and power of the Lord. A prayer warrior is someone who knows God’s blessings and knows without doubt those blessings are ours to claim.

Think Hannah.

Barren for years, she prayed for a child. Though years passed, she continued to pray, despite her aching heart. She continued to pray even when she reached the end of her rope.

“And she was in bitterness of soul and prayed to the Lord and wept in anguish.” (I Samuel 1:10)

Hannah prayed intently and purposefully with tears of frustration and sorrow. She prayed persistently and passionately until Samuel was born. It’s nice to know God is not offended by our questioning, our frustrations and our confusion.

Think Daniel.

When God revealed to Daniel as a young man that Israel would be taken into captivity and exiled from their land, Daniel interceded on behalf of his people.

“I set my face toward the Lord God to make request by prayer and supplications, with fasting, sackcloth, and ashes. And I prayed to the Lord my God, and made confession, and said, “O Lord, great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant and mercy with those who love him, and with those who keep his commandments. (Daniel 9:3-4)

This was the prayer of a man who recognize the path he was on and claimed the blessings promised by a faithful father. Daniel’s path would not be easy. Neither will Adam’s path be without challenge.  Still, Daniel knew the path would be paved with the promises of God. Adam knows that as well.

Nzinga’s prayer that night was Hannah and Daniel personified in the presence of an African-American woman with a deep, abiding faith. Intense. Purposeful. Persistent. Passionate.  Confident in the promises of God.

It’s Thanksgiving.

We have much for which to sing praises of gratitude to our God.

When we gathered today as an extended family around our table for our non-traditional Thanksgiving meal of beef and chicken fajitas, Adam sat among us. How could you not be thankful in such a moment?

In the moment of our Thanksgiving prayer, I silently thanked God that we were all together. I thanked him for Adam’s life and his prospects for a full recovery. I thanked God for Adam’s wife, Jordan, who was and is his rock throughout their crisis. She reminds me so much of my Mom. I thanked God for Robin who was my anchor in the storm.

I thanked God for the doctors, physical therapists and caregivers who tended to my son. I thanked God for every word of encouragement and hope they offered.

I thanked God for our church staff and congregation who lifted our family in prayer, interceding on our behalf. I expressed my gratitude for friends at work and at church who wrapped their arms around Adam and his family. I thank him for those individuals in my life whose words and touch sustained Robin and me during our days.

I thanked God for my new friend Nzinga. I know he put her at our table with heavenly intent. I also thanked him for the other prayer warriors I know who stood in the gap between our family and the troubles we faced as they called down the power and presence of God.

This journey for Adam and his family is not over. The extended outpatient therapy will hopefully lead to full recovery in a matter of weeks or short months. I continue to covet your prayers for the days ahead…for stamina, endurance, patience, hope and end result that will give God all the glory.

James spoke about the prayers of the faithful.

“Is anyone among you in trouble? Let them pray. Is anyone happy? Let them sing songs of praise. Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord…The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” James 5:13-14,16b)

I still don’t know if I strung together a cogent sentence today. Forgive a father for his incoherent ramblings and let God share with you what I’m trying to say.

I do, however, know this one thing. I know today how powerful and effective the prayers of a righteous person can be. And, I know without a doubt that God is good.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Distinctive Living

Background Passages: Matthew 5:13-16, Romans 12:2, Galatians 5:22-23

It’s still one of the most impressive devotionals I ever heard. Standing before the deacons at our regular monthly meeting, Dan Cain began speaking, without reading, without notes. Words he not only memorized but internalized.

“Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him and he began to teach them…” (Matthew 5:1)

What followed was beautiful recitation of the Sermon on the Mount as recorded in Matthew. Word for word. As if we were sitting on the hillside, hearing our Lord speak.

That’s the way to read and hear scripture. Not in the dull monotone of the mind, without life or feeling, but as if you were present in the moment, hearing the words…just as the disciples heard them. That’s when the words jump off the page with meaning that changes everything.

I read that passage of scripture again this week. When I did, I heard those words in the voice of Jesus…who suddenly sounded remarkably similar to Dan Cain’s Texas twang.

Let’s take a look at one thought from Jesus’ greatest sermon. I find it as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago.

_____

During the first year of his ministry, Jesus moved from village to village in Galilee teaching in the synagogues and preaching wherever he found an audience to listen. We don’t know a lot about the content of those early teachings except Jesus seemed to pick up where John the Baptist left off. The gospel writer tells us in Matthew 4:17…

“From that time on, Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

At some point in this time frame, he called his first disciples, taking them with him as he taught and healed. So popular were his teachings and so miraculous his healing that large crowds began to follow wherever he went. The people came, not just from Galilee, but from Jerusalem, Judea and the land east of the Jordan River to hear his voice.

At one point, Luke tells us that Jesus drew criticism from the Pharisees for healing a man with a deformed hand. After that rather heated debate, Jesus left Capernaum and went up the hillside to pray. The following morning as he and his closest disciples walked back toward the town, they encountered a large crowd eager to hear his message. Desperate to be healed.

Jesus found a spot on the hill and began to preach.

Taken as a whole, the Sermon on the Mount is the nearest thing to a manifesto that Jesus ever shared. He described what he wanted his followers to be and do. It is an explanation of kingdom living at its best. Writer John Stott said the teachings within this sermon “describe what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God.

“And what do they look like? Different! Jesus emphasized that his true followers, the citizens of God’s kingdom, were to be entirely different from others.”

The Sermon on the Mount then is a call to be distinctive, drawing a constant contrast between the life lived by those of the Word and the life lived by those of the world. Jesus simply said,

“…do not be like them…” (Matthew 6:8)

You hear a similar word of caution from God to the Israelites in Leviticus 18:3 as he spoke about the pagan practices of the Egyptians and the Canaanites.

“You must not do as they do.”

An echo of the idea reverberated in Paul’s admonition to the church in Rome.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” (Romans 12:2)

God calls us to live differently than those who do not know him. To relate to one another differently than those who don’t know him. To testify by the way we live to the transformative power of a life committed to Christ.

A pastor said recently that God’s church once existed as the heart and soul of every community. The church and its people defined the culture of the community. The pastor lamented that God’s church today no longer serves as the driver of our culture. Instead, it surrendered its responsibility as the conscience of the community and found itself pushed to the periphery. Its influence marginal at best.

Decades ago, someone once asked Methodist missionary and author E. Stanley Jones to name the biggest problem of the church. His answer short and to the point. “Irrelevance,” he said. “Three-fourths of the opposition to the church stems from disappointment. We promise to make men different, but the promise goes largely unfulfilled.”

Some 50 years later, the pandemic dealt another blow to the church’s relevance. Before we blame the church as an institution, we need to remember that we are the church. You and I, as individuals, are the church. We must ask ourselves the tough question. Is the church less relevant because its people are no longer different enough from the world around us? I suspect there is more truth to that than any of us would care to admit.

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount speaks to kingdom living. About living the life God calls us to live. Jesus expects us to have a profound influence on the culture of the world. Yet, we have become less different, less distinctive.

Jesus spoke words to us that still echo off the waters of the Sea of Galilee. These words tell us what we ought to be.

“You are the salt of the earth! But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:13-16)

Jesus finds truth in the simplicity of ordinary living. He offers no cryptic parable that demands explanation. If you’re sitting with Jesus on the hillside in the first century, you get it. It’s just as clear today.

Salt flavors and preserves. So, what you’re saying Jesus is that we must live in such a way that we don’t leave a bitter taste in someone’s mouth. We are to preserve in our culture that which is holy and sacred and pure and right so that it still sustains those who will partake of it. When we lose our saltiness, our testimony and witness fade. Our lifestyle begins to look the same as our unchurched neighbors. Our influence in the community gets trampled underfoot and lost to society.

If you’re sitting with Jesus on the hillside in the first century, you get it. Another easily understood illustration that made as much sense to a Galilean as it does to a Texan. Light serves as a beacon to the lost, drawing them to safety. Light makes clear the path of righteous living that seeks to serve rather than condemn.

To be salt and light is the calling, but they are not the purpose. Allow me to paraphrase:

“Let your salt flavor all of life with the sweet taste of God’s love and your light illuminate his teachings…so that…they, the world beyond the walls of the church, will see the difference in the way you live and embrace and exalt the God of salvation who is our Father in heaven.”

That’s a huge “so that.” We live the life God calls us to live every day, not so we can stand on the street corner and express openly our gratitude that we are “not like other men.” A holier than thou attitude that drives a wedge between the church and those we are called to serve.

We live the life God called us to live so what we say and do points the lost to Jesus. For when we flavor life with the sweet taste of his love and the clear light of his goodness and grace…when we are truly different…all humanity will be drawn to him.

What does that look like?

Being salt and light is the byproduct of kingdom living. Paul described it to the Galatian church.

“…the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

Such traits are rare and precious commodities in our world today. When Christians decide to be salt and light, to demonstrate love, peace, patience…the world feels our presence. When we demonstration kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, the world pays closer attention to what we say and do. That distinctiveness makes a difference. The church, our faith, becomes relevant again.

How do we get there?

Those glow-in-the-dark toys only glow in the dark when they are held next to the light for an extended period. We get to the point of distinctiveness when we stay close to the Light of the World. Spending time in his word and having those deep, rich, prayerful conversations with the one who takes joy in hearing from us. We get there by making a conscious effort to be different.

Our faith cannot be timid nor secret. We cannot hide our light beneath a bowl or bushel. The light must shine. Let us work to make our faith both vocal and visible. Only then will the church find its place again in the center of the community.

God calls us to influence the world. Imagine what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God led by those who are both salt and light. It’s time to make a difference. That’s what being salt and light is all about.

Enter His Gates

Background Passages: Mark 11:15-17; Psalm 100:4

If we aren’t careful, reading scripture can become too common place. We hear or read a story enough times and Jesus becomes a two-dimensional character we place on the felt board of our lives as the story unfolds.

When we’re able to make Christ real, the story fleshes itself out in colorful, three dimensions that gives us a new way of looking at God’s truth and inspires us to live life more abundantly.

Three verses in Mark. Four quick sentences. These 78 words tell the story of Jesus physically clearing the temple in a moment of righteous anger. It is an intense passage. I don’t know that it happened exactly like I envision it, but you don’t know it didn’t. Read with the intent of learning what it means to make his house a house of prayer and inclusion.

She shuffled inside the temple through its eastern gate,
caught in a stream of
hurrying humanity.
Pressing.
Pushing.
Prodding
An exhausting effort to
pass through the portal.

The massive crowd created an instant bottleneck.
at the narrow opening
Hundreds tried to enter
like sheep herded into a pen.

The petite, elderly woman.
Jostled.
Jolted.
Jammed through the gateway.
Once inside,
some hurried soul shoved her to the side.
Knocked her off balance,
scraping her wrist of the rough, stone wall.

She scanned the courtyard of the women,
rubbing the abrasion on her hand.
Blaring noise.
Braying animals.
Barked insults.
Smells and sounds stunned her senses.
Every face that passed reflected a patience worn thin
by long lines.
Angry haggling.
Inhospitable hearts.

Slowly she meandered through the booths,
handing over her temple tax to a scowling priest.
Paying her pennies
for a sacrificial dove.
Exorbitant fees left two coins in her bag.

A Jewish convert from Syria.
A trip of a lifetime.
A demanding and dangerous
journey to Jerusalem.
In her heart,
worth every toilsome step to pray
to the living God.
In His home.
His temple.

Pictured this moment in her heart for years, but
she never expected such…
unholiness
in this most holy place.

Passed through the masses
deeper into the Court of the Gentiles.
Seeking a quieter place to pray.
Hawkish vendors pawed at her arms.
Plying their wares.
When she did not buy,
they pushed her away.
Cursed her family.
Cruel words.
Contemptuous sneers.

She moved again,
longing to feel God’s presence in
his temple.

Once…
Someone arguing at an elder of the temple
broke her reverent conversation.

Twice…
Someone yelled at her
as she settled to her knees.

Three times…
Someone shoved her against the wall
as they jockeyed for position.

Tears flowed down her wrinkled face.
Tired.
Traumatized.

Disillusioned.
Disheartened.

*****

A few minutes before,
Jesus and his disciples entered the temple court
through the same eastern gate.
A long journey from Capernaum
in obedience to the call of Passover.
The last Passover
before the passion
of the cross.

Jesus steeled himself against the revulsion he felt
every time he entered the unruly atmosphere.
Particularly rowdy and quarrelsome this year.

Muttered to his disciples
“How can anyone worship like this?”

Worked his way through the crowd
Brushing aside the moneychangers and sellers.
Hearing the relentless haggling over
price and
product.
Anger boiled with each passing moment.

Jesus’ head snapped to a commotion on his left.
An elder in the Temple.
Shouted and shamed
a man who refused to pay the asking price for a
blemished lamb.
A lamb unsuitable for sacrifice.
Unworthy of God’s blessing.

Too late Jesus stepped to intervene.
The elder drove the man back
with fisted rebuke,
pushing him into and over an elderly woman
kneeling at the wall,
offering her prayers amid the
chaos and confusion.

The master could tolerate no more.
Grabbed two cords from a vendor’s stand.
Wrapped them around his wrist.
Held tightly in his calloused hand.
A crack of the improvised whip.
A shout that bounced off the temple walls,
Jesus cried out,

“Enough!”

People spun around.
Stared.
Shocked.

The old Syrian woman backed against the wall.
Avoided the man in the dusty robe as he charged by.
She watched in awe as he…
Moved quickly to a moneychanger’s table,
tossing it aside as if it were made of papyrus.
Scattered a bag full of coins
across the dusty ground.
Pushed over a nearby fence holding a small herd of sheep.
Drove them toward the gate and
outside the temple

People scattered.
Ran from the man with furious eyes.

Above the din,
she heard again…

“Enough!”

Picking up an armful of cages holding the doves,
the man shoved them forcefully
into the arms of a temple guard.

“Take them and go!
Now!”

The elderly woman startled in fright.
A burly merchant jumped in front of the man.
Beefy hands stretched out to stop him.
Eyes intent on malice.

The man with the whip froze.
Held the index finger of his right hand
inches from the merchant’s face.
Dark eyes glared at the storekeeper.
An explicit,
unspoken
message.

“Don’t even think about it!”

The merchant cowered.
Grabbed his possessions.
Fled toward the gate without looking back.

The woman stood with her mouth agape.
Fascinated by the
presence and power
on display.

As he encountered each Gentile worshipper,
he looked intently into their eyes.
Urged them,

“Please wait.”

Then, in a whirlwind of God’s wrath,
He turned to another merchant,
driving them from the temple.

A swirl of dust.
The man stretched out his arms.
Grabbed the edge of the heavy wooden gates.
Watched the mass of fleeing humanity.

“My Father’s house is for all nations a house of prayer.
You have turned it into a den of thieves!”

“Enough!”

Slammed shut the doors.
Sealed the ensuing silence
into the courtyard of God’s temple.

The elderly woman and dozens of desiring worshippers
Stood still.
Shaken.
Silent.

*****

Jesus stood still at the entrance
breathing heavily.
Head bowed.
Tears of sadness stained dusty cheeks.
Rubbed his eyes and face
as he calmed his emotions.

Troubled worshippers…
Clung tightly to one another.
Clustered in tiny groups,
gathered across the courtyard.

Shocked priests…
Huddled in the far corner.
Trembling in a mixture of
terror and temper.

Stunned disciples…
Stood slack-jawed amid the overturned tables.
Astonished at the demonstration of physical power
never seen from their Lord.

Jesus looked at his closest friends.
Exhaled deeply.
Puffed out his reddened cheeks.
Shook his head slightly and…
with visible relief, winked.
“I’m okay.”

Jesus scanned the silent assembly.
Looked intently for the elderly woman caught in the middle.
He found her.
Crouched in a corner.
Leaning against the wall.
Knees pulled tightly to her chest.

He sat down beside her.
Smiled a self-conscious grin.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,
but I know you came to worship our God.”

They sat for a moment in silence. Jesus breathed deeply.

He pushed himself upward,
pressing his back against the stone wall.
He took her hands.
Led her to the center of the courtyard,
calling for the others to join him.
In the stillness of that moment,
Jesus led them in quiet prayer.

He motioned to the frightened priests.
Signaled them to quietly accept the offered sacrifices.
One by one.
The worshippers relinquished their tribute.
Moved to a quiet place.
Offering private praise
to the Lord Almighty.

Jesus watched the prayerful pass.
Spoke quiet words of encouragement.

The old, Syrian woman
moved slowly in the line of worshippers.
Waited for her moment to offer her dove to the priest.
As the line moved slowly forward, she
stopped in front of the man who cleared the temple.
With a look of gratitude
she raised a shaking hand, translucent with age,
placed it delicately on his cheek.
Patted it twice.
Inner joy bursting forth in a near toothless smile,
erasing 20 years from her elderly features.

Laughing quietly,
Jesus offered his arm.
They shuffled to a quiet corner.
Knelt together in the dust.
Offered more words of praise and worship to the Father.

What made this Passover different? The same chaotic scene played out every year upon Jesus’ arrival for Passover. The crowds. The clamor. The irreverence.

Every time he came to the temple, Jesus surely winced. Overwhelmed by the cacophony within the courtyard. Sickened by the difficulty of worshipping amid the clamor.

Yet, he never reacted outwardly to his inner revulsion…never yielded to the rising bile of anger in his throat.

The disturbance this time triggered a different response. This time he would enter Jerusalem’s temple for the last time…on his way to the cross. Jesus chose this time to make a bold statement about worship so seriously misunderstood and misrepresented by the myopic temple authorities.

In a graphic way Jesus reminded them that God’s house is a place of reverence.

In a graphic way Jesus confirmed that personal prayer lies at the heart of worship.

In a graphic way Jesus warned against attitudes and behaviors that impede the worship of another.

In a graphic way Jesus insisted that God’s house would be an inviting place of prayer…for all nations. For all people.

Imagine a church today with no distractions. No dissension. No disdain for the different.

A church with no elitism. No exclusivity.

A church with no arrogance. No attitude that shuns the seeker. No action that serves as a stumbling block to real worship.

Imagine a church with its doors and hearts wide open. Ready for worship.

A church for whom God’s house echoes with prayer and praise…for all people.

Just imagine.

Then…

Make it so.

“Enter his gates with Thanksgiving; His courts with praise, Give thanks to Him and Praise His name.” (Psalm 100:4)

Author’s Note: The article above is a chapter pulled from one of my books, The Chase: Our Passionate Pursuit of Life Worth Living. If you’re interested in purchasing a copy of the book, leave a message on the comment section below. 

Be Still and Know

Background Passages: Psalm 46:1-10; 2 Corinthians 12:9; Luke 40:35-41

You hear it all the time when a rookie quarterback is starting his first game. The defense will mix up their coverages, blitz from different angles and players, rush, drop back in coverage. They will do anything to confuse the unfortunate rookie.

At some point the announcer, armed with dozens of sports cliches, will invariably say that the game is moving too fast for the quarterback.

The reason it is a cliché is that it’s true. Time, familiarity with the playbook and game experience will make things easier. It will eventually slow the game down.

There sure have been times in my life when I felt like a rookie quarterback. It is a frenetic and noisy world. No day passes without strident debates and diatribes over issues critical to our culture and country. We see natural disasters taking their toll on our safety and security. When the news cycle hits, I find myself covering my eyes, ears and mouth like the proverbial monkey, hoping to see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil. The game moves too fast.

It is not a lot different in our personal lives. Even when trying to do what we feel God needs us to do, we find ourselves being pulled in a thousand different directions. It feels like the more we try to live a life of service to God, the more obstacles get thrown in our path. The game moves too fast.

It has been my privilege to serve as a member of our church’s Pastor Search Team charged to find a new pastor for the first time in 40 years. As we met as a team last week, we talked about how many things have come up in our lives as individuals that pull us from the task at hand. We talked about how easy it would be to feel overwhelmed and over our heads were God not a calming presence. The game moves too fast.

Amid the noise I hear in the world and in our lives, I also hear a quieter word from scripture.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

There will come a day when God will quiet the noise of the world, but until then he reminds us to “be still.”

Isaiah tells us “in repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength.”

I don’t think that’s the exact message of the Psalmist. We are not to close our eyes, ears and mouth to the clamor and discord. To be still is not a call to silence. It is a reminder that we will find God in the noise.

We find this verse embedded in a section that speaks to the power and security of God. God smothers our fear, declares the psalmist, because he is our strength and fortress in times of constant trouble.

“Be still.”

I’m certainly no Hebrew scholar, but the commentaries tell me not to interpret the word as “silence.” To be quiet or reverential in God’s presence. While there is always a place for quiet reflection of the nature and presence of God, the Hebrew word speaks more to “cease,” “to slacken” to “stop the frantic activity.”

I find that to be a good word for me. When I am pressed and feeling overwhelmed, I always tend to try to do more. To work harder to try and dig out from under my circumstance.

I think of the serene image of the duck on the pond who seems to swim effortlessly but is paddling furiously under water. That’s how I feel sometimes.

Be still is God’s great reminder to quit fighting battles I can’t win on my own. Being still means to chill out enough so you can see God at work and his “ever-present help in trouble.” (vs. 1)

Think of it another way. To be still is to surrender…surrender control of all that is going on in your world to the Almighty. We must lay down our weapons, drop our shields, give up our desire to lead and surrender to the will of the one who is already victorious. On a personal level, it means giving up my belief that I know better or that I can work my way through anything in my own power or force of will.

Being still, you see, is not a passive act where we sit back and do nothing. Rather, to be still we must stop what we’re doing. Back off. Yield control. Surrender. Give up all efforts at personal control and self-preservation.

Lest you feel that makes you feel weak and less of a Christian, remember that Paul rejoiced in his weakness.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Therein lies the reason to surrender our control. “Be still and know that I am God.”

The word “know” suggests we discover by sight. Stopping our well-intentioned efforts allows us to see God at work in the world and in our lives. If we’re so focused on doing things on our own, we’ll miss God’s work. Worse, we may well mistake his results for our own, taking credit where no credit is due.

When we stop all our frantic activity, we suddenly rediscover God is God. We come to know him as our refuge. Our strength. Our help. Our protector. Our comfort. Our warrior. Our exalted one.

The disciples were sailing from one side of the Sea of Galilee to the other when a strong storm interrupted their travel. Weary from a long day’s work, Jesus rested in the stern of the boat. The waves grew higher and the disciples struggled to keep the boat afloat. I suspect it was one of the non-fishermen who crawled to the back of the boat to wake Jesus up.

“Don’t you care if we drown?”

Jesus woke up. Rubbed his eyes. Stood up in the boat and commanded the wind.

“Quiet. Be still.”

The same basic word shared by the psalmist. Cease your frantic efforts.

As the gale turned to gust and to a gentle breeze, Jesus turned to his disciples. “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

Surrendering control to God is the ultimate act of faith. It replaces fear with trust.

In the stillness of that hour, the disciples marveled. “Who is this that even the wind and waves obey him?” It is as if Jesus was saying, “Be still and know that I am God.”

The world is chaotic enough without our feeble efforts adding to it. Our circumstances always rest in the hands of God and when we yield our will to his, he will calm the raging soul within us.

“Do not be anxious about anything (stop trying so hard), but in every situation (when life gets frantic), by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God (our ability to be quit fighting it), which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 with the Lewis translation thrown in)

“Be still and know that I am God.”

We’re not promised a world without chaos. In fact, it sure seems to be getting noisier. The good news of the gospel is that we don’t have to calm the storm around us. When we quit fighting against the current and surrender our lives without reservation to God, when we are still, we see God for who he is.

It’s funny, isn’t it? When I quit fighting it, the game slows down. When I cease doing things in my own ability, the game slows down. When I surrender my will to God’s will, the game slows down. Only then, can I see and know that God is God.

I say it again if only to remind me of its magnificent truth.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Drink This Cup

Background Passages: Matthew 20:20-23, Ezekiel 23:33, Psalm 116:13, Psalm 23:5-6

“Drink this cup…”

It was a phrase that tickled my ear several weeks ago during our last celebration of the Lord’s Supper. I wasn’t sure why. I had heard it for years. Understood it, I thought, in it’s context. Yet, it kept whispering to me. Maybe it’s time to listen.

The phrase is not unique to scripture. In an ancient Hebrew wedding tradition, a young man poured wine into his cup and invited the woman to drink from his cup. It was her choice. If she drank from the cup, she accepted the betrothal. It was a covenant act. A promise. The act declared that the woman agreed to experience his life in full…the good as well as the bad.

As a result of this old tradition, the cup came to represent a way of life…one that could be a blessing or a curse. The Old Testament prophets used the phrase to condemn Israel’s life apart from the covenant relationship with God. Ezekiel says that Jerusalem drinks from the “cup of ruin and desolation.” (Ezekiel 23:33).

The Psalmist writes to celebrate the manifold gifts of God. “I will take up the cup of salvation…” (Psalm 116:13), pointing toward the promise of eternal life and reward in God’s kingdom.

Jesus used the phrase in a slightly different way to declare the commitment required to do the will of God, regardless of where that life might lead.

My study this week found me reading a passage that illustrated the trouble the disciples had in grasping the mission and purpose of Christ. This common, but misplaced, image of the promised Messiah had them thinking in political terms rather than spiritual terms…a not uncommon issue today when Christians try to cram Jesus’ teachings into a liberal or conservative bucket. But…I digress.

As the passage reads, Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem and the cross. His disciples still had much to understand. The master teacher shared a parable about workers in a vineyard and spoke to them about accountability to the call of God. As they neared the city, he told them directly for the third time about his impending death and resurrection.

The journey toward Jerusalem and all it entailed painted a picture they either chose to ignore completely or opted to interpret with less troubling undertones.

Later, as Jesus and his entourage rested for the evening, Jesus looked up from the tree he was leaning against and saw James and John walking a step behind their mother who was making a beeline straight to Jesus.

She stood for a moment in front of Jesus suddenly less confident in her purpose. Kneeling at his feet, she struggled to find the words she practiced over and over again during their walk that day.

Jesus undoubtedly engaged her in casual conversation, helping her relax. With a lull in the pleasantries, Jesus cocked his head to the left, smiled, and said,

“What is it you want?”

She looked at her sons sitting beside her, hesitated for a moment, the gravity of her request hitting a little harder than she expected.

“Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at the right and the other at your left in your kingdom.”

Nothing surprised Jesus. He knew this was coming, but I suspect, in the deep recess of his heart, he was begging her not to go there. She and her sons missed the point.

Jesus’ eyes bore into the souls of James and John, causing them to shrink back a bit. The sounds of the night seemed to fade into the distance. He shook his head in quiet contemplation.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. Can you drink the cup I am to drink?”

The disciples sat up a little straighter, gaining strength one from the other. They looked back at Jesus.

“We can,” expressing a confidence they probably didn’t completely feel.

I know Jesus saw potential in them they could not see in themselves. He knew the life they were capable of living even when they didn’t yet understand its full implications. I wonder if this is where that fleeting moment of frustration at their lack of understanding turned into a gentler word of compassion and encouragement.

“You will indeed drink from my cup…”

Jesus told them that deciding a place of power and honor was not his decision to make nor their question to ask. Embracing the cup…living the call of Christ…was all that mattered. I always saw it as a rebuke for their misunderstand, focusing on the last part of that passage. Maybe it was instead a word of Godly insight. “You will indeed drink my cup.” It was as if Jesus was telling them, “Give it time. You will indeed answer the call.”

This is the concept my mind latched onto this week. “You will drink from my cup…”

Think with me.

You see, later in the week, Jesus and his disciples ate a meal together in the upper room the night before Jesus was crucified. Jesus broke bread, asking them to always remember him and what he was about to do. It’s possible that when he picked up the cup, he looked directly at James and John with that previous conversation in mind.

“Then, he took the cup and after he had given thanks, he gave it to them saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you…” (Matthew 26:27)

It wasn’t an unfamiliar phrase. Certainly, James and John and all the other disciples had been to a wedding or two in their lives. Some of them most certainly had offered their cup to their betrothed, knowing fully what the cup symbolized. A life committed. A promise made.

Their understanding of what it meant to embrace the life of Christ was grounded in a false Messianic narrative of earthly independence from the Roman occupation. A political rather than spiritual concept. To take the cup in their mind was to accept that to the victor go the spoils.

Jesus is drawing a different picture. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You will drink from my cup”…and then in the upper room, it’s no longer a prediction nor an invitation, it is a command…an encouragement…a hope, “Drink from it, all of you.”

For a long, long time, I thought Jesus was telling them to prepare for the same persecution and death that he faced. They certainly faced the persecution and most of them were martyred for their faithfulness. But, to limit the meaning to that aspect of their lives is the miss the point again, I think.

Jesus commanded his disciples…commands us…to drink of his cup. It’s not the wine within or the grape juice. It’s the cup that is important. The liquid represents the blood of Christ, shed for forgiveness of our sins. It’s worth remembering…as often as we do it. Drinking his cup adds a who new concept

Just as the ancient Hebrew wife accepted the cup to say to her future husband, “Where you go, I will go…” “Whatever is your lot is my lot…” “For better or worse…” Jesus is commanding his disciples to embrace the servant and sacrificial life of Christ as their own, the bad with the good. To live a Christ-like life, wholly and completely devoted to God.

Living that life may lead to suffering. When we accept the cup, the life of Christ, we profess an understanding that life within his plan for our lives will almost certainly contain hardship. Drinking from his cup means we willingly walk the lonely path he walked knowing it will be difficult at times.

Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, asked God to take the cup from him, knowing the consequences of his obedience. When God could not release him from the task, Jesus rested in the will of his father. His cup then speaks to our willingness to endure faithfully whatever twists and turns his will and way lays in front of us.

Drinking his cup is not all sacrifice and endurance. There is also glory in the drinking. Paul tells the Roman church that this life is “not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18) This means that any struggle we encounter while living a Christ-like life ends in victory and glory.

As we drink of the master’s cup, we should understand it as a cup of privilege and a cup of blessing, thanksgiving and praise. a life lived for Christ recognizes the unmerited blessings granted to us each day. His is a cup of grace. His is a cup of thanksgiving. Each day we are allowed to drink of his cup should be a day of gratitude.

The benefit of drinking from his cup is clear. The blessings grow over time. More plentiful. More deeply felt. The Psalmist expressed it far better than i ever could.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23:5-6)

Drinking the cup of Christ means to live a life wholly committed to him. Every day in every way.

Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, wrote in his diary about the feeling in that Philadelphia courtroom when 56 men signed that treasured document. It was a day in which they all drank from the cup of freedom.

“Do you recollect the pensive and awful silence which pervaded the House when we were called up, one after another, to the table of the President of Congress to subscribe to what was believed by many at the time to be our death warrants?”

Their signatures on the Declaration meant certain death at the hands of the British to all who put pen to paper. They signed without knowing how it all would end.

We don’t know what the future holds, but I can promise you this. Jesus commands each of us who put our faith and trust in him to “drink his cup.” To live the life of sacrifice and service that he lived. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. His cup brings with it God’s gift of wisdom, courage, boldness and humility to equip us for the work ahead. The hardships are balanced by his abundant blessing and grace.

It is a cup worth drinking. A cup that will make a difference in our world.

I don’t know about you, but my cup runs over.

 

The Master Silversmith

Background Passages: Malachi 3:2-3; Ephesians 1:11; Genesis 50:20; I Corinthians 10:13

The following story made its rounds on Facebook last week pulling me into a quick study of Malachi.

According to the story, a group of women were studying the third chapter of Malachi in the Old Testament. They came across verse three, which says:

“…He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver…”

This verse puzzled the women, and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.

This woman called up a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him work. She didn’t mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot – then she thought again about the verse, that “he sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.” She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined.

The man explained that he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be damaged.

Watching in silence for a few moments. Then she asked the silversmith, “How do you know when the silver is fully refined?”

He smiled at her and answered, “Oh, that’s easy. When I see my image in it.”

That story made me wonder. As we are feeling the heat of today’s chaotic fire, are we simply being refined for a greater, purer and more holy purpose? Is this just another moment in time…another fire…that God is using to make us a more holy people, better equipped to serve and worship him more perfectly?

I suspect the answer is yes…at least for those who want to be refined.

Malachi, the last of the prophetic words of the Old Testament, was written after the people of Israel returned from exile and the rebuilding of the temple. Though back in their homeland, Israel was still a backwoods province subject to its Persian masters.

The grandeur of restoration preached by Zechariah had not been realized yet. The people of Israel, looking for a more instant gratification began again to doubt the promises of God and no longer trusted in his justice. They lost hope and their worship degenerated into rote and ritual without meaning.

God called Malachi to preach a word of rebuke for the faithlessness of Israel and its people. He said that God would again come to his people, but he would come like the “refiner’s fire” to warn and reassure his people of his coming salvation.

Malachi speaks of God’s “messenger” who will prepare the way of the Lord. Then, once the way is prepared, God will send “the messenger of the covenant,” a direct reference to Jesus.

“But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire, or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the Lord…” (Malachi 3:2-3)

It is God’s role as a silversmith that we’ll explore for a bit today.

From a very human perspective, our world is in chaos. Think about the events of the past few weeks. Devastation caused by another major hurricane along the Gulf Coast. Severe forest fires claiming entire communities in the west. Major floods in the northeast. Recovery from these natural calamities take a toll on those affected.

Then, the pandemic continues to claim lives in illness, death and financial uncertainty, robbing us of normalcy we crave.

On the 20th anniversary of 9/11, we’re reminded that humankind causes plenty of its own turmoil and destruction without the help of natural calamities or disease.

While we’ve not seen that level of terrorism in the past two decades, we see the chaos of the American withdrawal from Afghanistan and the danger and threat to the innocent citizens of that country with signs of new brutality already emerging.

None of these things caught an omniscient God by surprise. He already had plans in place to use these circumstances to grow our faith. Set aside the familiar passage in Romans 8:28 and find truth in Ephesians 1:11.

“God works everything in conformity with the purpose of his will in order that we who were the first hope in Christ might be for the praise of his glory.”

He told as much in the story of Joseph. Sold into slavery by his scheming and resentful brothers, Joseph tells them later at that great reunion that God used the situation for the good of his people.

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good, to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

Though we’re on the opposite side of God’s redemptive work from Malachi, his words remind us that God uses the events of the world to offer a path forward through the chaos that will create in us a holy people who will serve and worship him in truth, tested by the fire…purer and stronger for it.

Here’s a thought we may not want to hear. One pastor wrote that God is less concerned that we “get out” of our current chaos, and more concerned that there is something he wants us to “get out” of our situation. To remove us from the refiner’s fire may cheat us out of the very lessons we need to learn. Trust in this. God is doing something in this time in your life and in the world. There is something he wants us to get out of this that fits into his plan for our lives.

So, what is it that God wants us to learn? I think there are two things we can draw from this passage in Malachi.

The refining process heats the ore to allow impurities to float to the surface where they can be skimmed off and discarded. The imagery of the woman watching the silversmith says that the artisan watches and waits until the perfect time to remove the slag. He doesn’t take the metal from the fire until it is cleansed.

God walks with us through the fire in our Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego moments so we can emerge on the other end stronger in faith and purer in purpose. God’s heart desire is for us to be pure and holy.

Lest we cringe at the thought of God holding us in the flame, the silversmith sits and keeps his eye on the work to ensure that the silver is not damaged beyond use. That is to say that God will not stretch us to the breaking point.

“No temptation (test) has overtaken you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted (tested) but when you are tempted (tested), he will provide a way out so that you can endure it.” (I Corinthians 10:13)

The purpose of the flame is to strengthen and purify, not destroy. As we walk through the trials of life, we must look for opportunities to rid ourselves of anything that pollutes our standing with God, careful to learn his lessons.

Think of it this way. In the story of the silversmith, the woman asked, “How do you know when it’s pure?” The silversmith answered, “When I can see my image in it.” That’s perfection! We have been refined by God’s hands when he can see his image in us. When we live as the image of Christ in a chaotic world.

So, here’s the second point. Perhaps the best reason for walking through the chaos. God refines our faith so that we can worship him. Malachi tells us in the latter part of verse three that “…he will purify the sons of Levi”…THEN, the Lord will have people who will “bring offerings in righteousness” and those offerings will be “acceptable to the Lord.”

The offerings or sacrifices of Malachi’s day were their forms of worship. The purpose of God’s refining work is so we can bring offerings of authentic praise and worship in truth and righteousness. The writer of Hebrews says we should offer a “sacrifice of praise” to our Lord.

If you believe God is at work through every aspect of life, know that this may well be the lesson he is trying to teach us. He wants us to return to him. The pandemic made it easy to stay away from church and the fellowship of believers. It provides an easy way out.

My church is in the middle of a pastor transition while in the middle of a pandemic. A double whammy! It would be easy to say, “I’ll just come back when all this settles down and a new pastor comes.” If we come at all, it would be easy to settle into the rote and routine of worship.

That’s not the lesson we should learn from this. Now, is the time God calls us to a stronger faith and a deeper commitment to worship. Now is the time he is calling us to worship in the way he created us to worship.

Bishop Handley Moule, an Anglican theologian from Durham, England, once wrote, “There is no situation so chaotic that God cannot, from that situation, create something that is surpassingly good. He did it at the creation. He did it at the cross. He is doing it today.”

“Today” for Moule was amid the worst days of bitter fighting in World War I. He could have easily been writing about almost any generation. It is certainly true of our “today.” There is, indeed, no situation so chaotic that God cannot create something surpassingly good.

The key is we must let him work in and through us. We must trust that he is at work refining and purifying us for his continued service. We must willingly draw nearer to him in worship and praise for the good work he is doing and the good work he will do amid the hurting lives of today’s chaos.

It certainly qualifies as the perfect prayer for Christians living in our ravaged world. Hold our feet to the fire. Refine us, Lord. Remove the impurities from us until you can see your image reflected in us.

Come! Now is the time to worship.

One Thing

Background Passages: Philippians 1:20-21; Philippians 3:7-14, Psalm 27:4 and John 14:1-6

It’s a dark place in which to find oneself. A dark place I do not understand. I am amazed at those who prefer to dwell in a darkness where life has no real meaning or purpose.

Christian apologist John Blanchard wrote about the meaning of life in his book Does God Believe in Atheists. He explored the bleak thinking of some of the world’s modern philosophers.

In the book, Blanchard quotes Welsh scholar Rheinallt Williams. “There is nothing which arises more spontaneously from man’s nature than the question about life’s meaning. But if to be shoveled underground or scattered on its surface is the end of the journey, then life in the last analysis is a mere passing show without meaning, which no amount of dedication or sacrifice can redeem.”

It was a sentiment echoed by British journalist and novelist Rebecca West later in the book. “I do not believe that any facts exist, or, rather, are accessible to me, which give any assurance that my life has served an eternal purpose.”

I read these quotes and immediately my thoughts go to an image of Curly, that weather-beaten cowboy in that 1991 movie City Slickers. When Mitch, the cowboy wannabe from Manhattan, questioned the grizzled rancher about the meaning of life, Curly pointed his index finger straight in the air and said, “One thing.”

“One thing? What one thing?” Mitch inquired.

Ever cryptic, Curly replied, “That’s what you have to find,”

By the movie’s end, Mitch found his meaning of life in his family.

As much as I liked that movie and as much as my family brings meaning to my life, I would ask Mitch…and those who believe as Rheinallt Williams and Rebecca West…to look a little deeper than that.

People talk about wanting to leave a legacy. It is a noble thought. We want our lives to mean something. Leaving a legacy tells us that this life meant something. However, a legacy is left not in what you did, but what it meant. When you live your life for Christ, your life means something.

Paul, in prison and uncertain what the future held for him, told the Philippian church…

“I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:20-21)

Later in the letter, Paul said if he looked for meaning in this world all he would find is rubbish, especially compared to his relationship with Jesus Christ. He knew nothing else in this world mattered.

“But whatever were gains to me, I consider everything a loss for the sake of Christ. What is more I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him,” (Philippians 3:7-9a)

It is easy to make other things a priority in life. Work. Family. Friends. Good works. Every worthy thing we’ve accomplished pales in comparison to the relationship we have with God. It is that relationship that is indeed the meaning of life.

Scripture tells us that salvation, our relationship with Christ, is a point-in-time moment when we give our lives to him. It also is a process…a becoming. The joy of life is in the becoming. Growing in that relationship with Christ brings meaning to life.

Paul knew that better than anyone.

“I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings…Not that I have already obtained all of this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:10-14)

Paul loved the process of becoming all God called him to be. But, did you see it? Did you see Paul turn to us with one finger pointed to the sky?

“But one thing I do…”

The good news of this passage is that we don’t have to figure it out like Mitch did. Paul tells us plainly.

“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which god has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

Paul says the meaning of life is in the pursuit of God’s will for our lives and the promise of eternity with him.

David, too, tells us about the meaning of life. The king of Israel with all his fame and fortune recognized that one thing that made all the difference in the world. What was David’s one thing? What was the meaning of his life? He left us a clue in Psalm 27:4.

“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.”

David holds his index finger in the air, pointing toward heaven telling us that the meaning of life is found in one thing and one thing only. It was for him being in the presence of the Lord.

You can see it one more time in that upper room in Jerusalem. Jesus is telling his disciples that the reality of the cross is just hours away. That the next few days will be difficult for them. That he is going away. Look at John 14:1-6.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me…My father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.

“Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?’

Can you see it? Jesus hold up his index finger, but this time he points it to his heart.

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

After the Dallas Cowboys won their first Super Bowl, Tom Landry, their former coach, made this observation. “The overwhelming emotion—in a few days, among the players on the Dallas Cowboy football team—was how empty that goal was. There must be something more.”

As a devote Christian, Landry knew there is a thirst inside us that only God can fill. One thing. When we try to fill it with anything else, it will not satisfy. It will only reveal how empty life can be without Christ.

That passage in John tells us without pause. Jesus is the answer. He is more than the meaning of life. He is life.

With respect to folks like Rheinallt Williams and Rebecca West, they missed the point. Any search for meaning apart from Jesus Christ will always  be fruitless.

We see it time and time again in the Bible. We point our finger to the heavens. Let’s embrace the one thing.