Category: Spiritual Growth

A Case for Compassion

Focal Passages: Hebrews 13:1-3; and Matthew 25:37-40

When my two boys were young, my wife and I bought all 40 books in Gordon Osborne’s Value Tales series. Using stories of famous historical figures, each book focused on a desirable character trait, traits we wanted to instill in our kids.

There were books about the courage of Harriett Tubman. The determination of Helen Keller. The perseverance of Thomas Edison. The initiative of Frederick Douglass. The books taught children honesty, patience, kindness, responsibility, truth and fair play, humor, love, confidence, and imagination, for instance.

One of the books I remember taught a lesson on compassion using the life of Florence Nightingale, the British nurse who revolutionized nursing care and medical hygiene during the Crimean War.

I was drawn to this book initially because my Mom, whose first name was Florence, was also a nurse with a compassionate heart. (In full disclosure Mom was not fond of the name, preferring to go by Earline.) I found it compelling, also, because it taught compassion, that ability to sense another’s need or suffering, combined with a genuine desire to address the need or suffering. It was a trait I wanted my sons to cultivate.

I thought of that book specifically this week, when I read a summary of a 2025 study on compassion in the United States released by the Muhammad Ali Center in Louisville, KY.

The center surveyed more than 5,000 people from 12 metropolitan areas across the country. According to the survey, Americans believe the country is less compassionate today than it was four years ago. In fact, only 29 percent of those surveyed said they personally feel compassion toward those in need. More than two-thirds of those surveyed acknowledged gaps in their compassion for and empathy toward certain groups of people, including the poor or those of differing ethnic backgrounds.

If that doesn’t disturb you as a believer in Christ, it should. The very nature of Jesus, the one in whom we believe, was compassion.

The writer of Hebrews closed out his letter to the churches by making a case for compassion. Look at what is written.

Keep on loving each other as brothers and sisters. Do not forget to entertain strangers for by doing so some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering. (Hebrews 13:1-3)

Compassion demonstrates our faith in practical, relational ways. It is not abstract, rather it is expressed in love, hospitality and solidarity with folks who are struggle with life. Compassion provides ongoing care for a people in need. Acts of kindness and expressions of empathy are sacred acts, commissioned by God and modeled for us in every way by Christ himself.

Keep loving each other isn’t just a casual thought inserted by the writer. It stands as a steadfast, continuing commitment to care for others, reminding us that expressions of God’s love to others are central to our faith.

The writer speaks of a bond, a love shared among siblings or family. It is not sporadic nor conditional. Rather, it flows freely and consistently, an outpouring of God’s love through us because his love is in us.

It involves genuine kindness and support for others within the fellowship of believers and extending into our community at large. This loving expression of compassion means celebrating their joys and mourning losses. Too many people today feel isolated and out of options. As Christians, we ought to commit ourselves to be emotionally and physically available in ways that create opportunities for active grace as a true reflection of the heart of Christ.

Compassion also demonstrates itself in hospitality toward those we may not know. We are challenged by the writer to see every person as valuable and worthy of respect, care and generosity…not just those we broadly consider “family.”

In New Testament times, the practice of welcoming strangers was not just a form of ancient welfare. It was a matter of survival for many. Everything we have is a gift from God to be shared with those in need.

The reference to “entertaining angels unaware” recalls a couple of Old Testament stories, but I think it suggests a deeper sense of reverence today. You and I never know fully the stories of those we encounter along the way. Every person we meet, every person we help, holds significance in God’s eyes beyond our understanding. By being open and generous, we align ourselves with Gd’s heart and his purpose.

As the writer of Hebrews ends his call for compassion, he encourages Christians today, even as he encourages his readers in the first century church, to think of the men, women and children who suffer adversity as if the suffering was also ours to bear. Think empathy in practice. To walk a mile in the shoes of another. To coax us into practical action. To put hands and feet to our prayers.

Someone once said when any one of us suffers, it affects all of us in one way or another. The writer wants us to respond to the hardships of others with compassion and kindness. To see the struggles of others as intimately connected to our shared humanity as a shared sense of what it means to be God’s children.

I find solid truth in what Hebrews tells us as I suspect many who might read this do as well. Yet, in less than five minutes of the nightly news or on an equal time on any social media platform, and you find a society that devalues compassion as a cultural weakness. Too many Christians are at best indifferent and at worst insensitive to the struggles of others.

All we need to do is look to scripture for answers in the life of Christ.

Over five thousand people followed him into the wilderness, listening to him preach and teach. Matthew 14 tells us when Jesus saw the crowd, “he had compassion on them and healed their sick.” Later, they grew hungry. Out of compassion, he fed them.

Early in his gospel, Mark tells the story of Jesus healing a leper, a man ostracized and shunned because of his illness. Mark writes that Jesus, “filled with compassion, reached out his hand and touched the man.” This merciful act set aside the cultural taboo of the day that demanded Jesus stay away. In this tender touch, Jesus restored dignity and a sense of belonging to a man whom society tossed aside as unworthy of their help.

Jesus commands us to love as he loved. To be compassionate as he was compassionate. In his last hours with his disciples, Jesus told a parable about the judgment that awaits all of us. In this parable the king invites some to accept their inheritance and walk into the kingdom. As the reason for their good fortune, he said,

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me in. I needed clothes and you clothed me. I was sick and you looked after me. I was in prison, and you came to visit me.” (Matthew 25:35-36)

The king’s guests said they could not honestly remember every doing any of those things for the king. The king’s reply makes the point for us.

I tell you the truth. Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did to me.” (Matthew 25:40)

Clearly, the message is that compassion means something. It means something not only to the hungry, the thirsty, the alien (legal or not), the sick, the poor and the prisoner. It means something to God.

Here is what you and I need to recognize in that story, however. The righteous whom God invited into the kingdom received God’s praise, not because they meet God’s needs, but because compassion for the marginalized people was so natural they didn’t notice they were doing something extraordinary for the “least of these.”

Second-nature.

Authentic humility.

Grace-motivated.

Heart-driven.

That kind of compassion.

I think that’s the message the writer of Hebrews was teaching me this week. It is the message Jesus demonstrated every day of his life on earth. In a world where compassion is undervalued and left undone, live it anyway. When the culture seeks to oppress rather than uplift, set aside the taboos and love them anyway.

Make compassion second nature…so much a part of you that you don’t realize you’re doing something extraordinary. The reason is clear. When you do it for the least of his children…

For all the compassion God has shown you and me, that ought to be reason enough.

Thinking Points

When was the last time I showed compassion to someone without realizing it, simply as a natural expression of Christ’s love?

In what ways have I allowed today’s culture or bias to limit my compassion toward certain groups or individuals?

 

How can I make compassion a second nature response, rather than something I feel forced or obligated to do?

 

What does Hebrews 13:1-3 teach me about the kind of empathy that honors God?

 

If Jesus were to evaluate my compassion today as God did those in the parable in Matthew 25, what might he find in my words, actions and attitudes?

Thinking About Forgiveness

Focal Passages: Luke 23:26-43; Colossians 3:12-13

It may come as a surprise to you, but I can carry a tune. My bucket may be a little larger than most good singers, but I can still hit a few notes the first time I try. In truth, I sing quite well…when I’m alone in my car…with the radio turned up high.

That elevated opinion of my singing abilities echoed clearly as I drove across town this week with the volume cranked up, singing loudly and proudly along with Don Henley as he blasted out his soulful rendition of Heart of the Matter. Sing it with me.

“I’ve been trying to get down
to the heart of the matter,
but my will gets weak and
my thoughts seem to scatter,
but I think it’s about forgiveness.”

You can stop singing now because that’s when I stopped singing and started thinking about forgiveness. Not specifically the forgiveness Henley was singing about, but rather the forgiveness extended to me by God, family and friends and the forgiveness I need to extend to others. When I got home, I realized it was time for a deeper dive into forgiveness.

What better place to start than with the one who died to forgive. Join me in Luke 23.

Those verses find Jesus nailed to a cross, suffering an agony you and I cannot comprehend, condemned to death by arrogant Jewish religious leaders and conniving Roman politicians. The witnesses who testifying in Jesus’ sham of a trial lied. Now, a crowd that days earlier cheered him as they waved palm branches amid shouts of Hosanna, hurled insults as they slandered and mocked him.

“If you’re the king of the Jews, come down off the cross and save yourself.”

Their shattered illusions about the promised Messiah overflowed in bitterness and hate. As he suffered unimaginable pain leading to his death, the religious leaders smiled, quite pleased with how it all played out. Pilate, who granted permission for the execution, washed his hands of the sordid affair, thankful he tiptoed through the political minefield.

Through it all, not one looked at the man on that middle cross and said, “I was wrong.” Not one said, “This is a mistake.” Instead, they laughed. They jeered. They celebrated.

Then, Jesus uttered what noted Christian author Ray Pritchard called one of the most profound statements in the entire Bible, “the finest, purest, highest example of forgiveness.” At a time when we might find our will weak and our thoughts scattered, Jesus thought about forgiveness!

Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing. (Luke 23:34)

Pritchard wrote, “Jesus, the Son of God, the one who knew no sin, the only truly innocent man who ever walked this sin-cursed planet, in his dying moments uttered words that still ring across the centuries…Those 11 tortured words sweep away all our shabby excuses. They reveal the barrenness of our hearts; they rip the cover off our unrighteous anger and show it for what it is.”

I always assumed Jesus was talking to his father about forgiving the Pharisees who forced the issue. Forgiving Judas who betrayed his love. Forgiving Pilate who turned his back on innocence. Forgiving the gathered crowd lining the road to Golgotha who spat upon him as that splintered beam of wood scraped across his whip-torn back. Forgiving the disciples who denied him and ran away. Forgiving the Roman soldiers who wielded the hammer and nails and gambled away his clothes. Forgiving the thief on the cross who, in his own pain and shame, mocked and reviled Jesus. Forgiving the angry crowds who insulted him and misunderstood who he was.

It is more comfortable to think that way. They certainly needed his forgiveness.

Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.

As he approached his death on the cross, the words carried a meaning beyond the moment. What if he was really saying, “Father, forgive Kirk. He is not born yet, but when he is, he will do things beyond reason. He will not fully understand what he is doing. Even now, through this sacrifice, forgive Kirk.

So, now? Are you thinking about forgiveness?

Paul tells us Jesus did what was necessary. What God planned from the beginning of creation as he hung the stars and moon: Jesus would die for my sins, your sins and the sins of the world. The unknown writer of Hebrews spells out that covenant promise when he declares that “…without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness…so Christ was sacrificed once for the sins of many.” (Hebrews 9:22, 29) 

What Jesus did on the cross and through his resurrection stands as truly the most life-changing act in human history. He died as a substitute for the death we deserve because of who we are and how we live. We are not much different in the grand scheme of life than the unyielding religious leaders, the jeering crowd, the grimly efficient Roman soldiers and the fearful followers who denied their association with Jesus.

I certainly don’t deserve his forgiveness, but I felt it the moment I gave my heart to him as a nine-year-old boy. I feel it, time and time again, when as a man I walk my own path instead of the path he needs me to walk. His forgiveness is there every time I seek it.

If you are a believer in Christ, I know you understand that. If you’ve not yet turned your life over to him, I pray you will find his forgiveness and start a new life lived in the light of his forgiveness and the sunshine of his grace.

There are two sides to every coin, as they say. It is easy to bask in the beauty of God’s forgiveness. We should live each day in gratitude for grace extended. Absolutely. The other side of the coin, though, can make us uncomfortable. Jesus did not just forgive us so we could feel better about ourselves and our past mistakes. His forgiveness comes with a command to forgive those who hurt us.

That’s where it gets messy for many of us. Most of us can agree with the idea of forgiveness in the abstract. The real challenge arises when we are personally wronged and contemplate offering forgiveness to someone who hurt us deeply.

“You don’t know what he did to me.”

“You should have heard what she said about my kids. You’d be angry, too.”

“They should suffer like they made me suffer.”

“No one has ever hurt me like he hurt me.”

“How can I possibly forgive her when she keeps telling those lies about me?”

C. S. Lewis devoted a chapter of his book Mere Christianity to the idea of forgiveness, calling it fundamental to the Christian faith. He said, “Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea until they have something to forgive.”

I am not saying forgiveness is easy. When the offense cuts to the core, forgiveness can be difficult. Living like Christ requires his followers not just to admire forgiveness from a distance, but to actually practice it. To forgive even when our baser instinct says, “I’ll bury the hatchet, but it will be somewhere between your shoulder blades.”

There was a time when Jesus found Peter thinking about forgiveness. With irritation written all over his face, Peter plopped down beside Jesus and asked him how many times he had to forgive someone who offended him. Thinking he was being magnanimous, Peter seemed to think seven times was an acceptable number. He sought Jesus’ confirmation.

Rather than seven times, Jesus offered seventy times seven, which in Peter’s mind seemed too much like ever and always. Given Peter’s confused look, Jesus just jumped with both feet into a parable about a forgiven servant who could not forgive the debt someone owed him.

Read Matthew 18:21-35 for the full story.

Essentially, Jesus told Peter that forgiveness is evidence of Christlike behavior and a natural outgrowth of the mercy offered by Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. It is unlimited grace extended to others because of how much God, through Christ, has forgiven us.

When he gave the believers in Ephesus instructions on Christian living, Paul encouraged them to live differently than the rest of the world. He said,

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:32)

It was a motivation for forgiveness Paul echoed with the Colossian church. Look at what he said in Colossians 3:12-13.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

So, I’m thinking about forgiveness.

No. There is nothing easy about forgiveness. It was anything but easy for Jesus as he hung on the cross experiencing a physical pain and an emotional agony as he bore my sin and yours. Yet, that act of forgiveness that extends beyond the cross to my life and yours demands that we respond to the hurt others inflict upon us with the kind of compassion and love that forgives even the most harmful attack.

It doesn’t mean we pretend it never happened. It doesn’t mean letting people walk all over you. It doesn’t mean making excuses for other people’s bad behavior. It simply means letting go of the hurt so you can begin to restore the broken relationship.

Forgiveness is evolution. A risk. A leap that opens us up to both the possibility of repeated hurt or restored relationship. It is a leap God makes every time we seek his forgiveness. If he forgives us, shouldn’t we be willing to make that same leap for those who desire our forgiveness?

If you are having difficulty forgiving, maybe the heart of the matter is just a matter of heart. A matter of loving others as Christ loves us.

In the middle of all that hurt, when your will gets weak and your thoughts seem to scatter, maybe it is time to think about forgiveness.

Thinking Points

What are some common excuses you use to avoid forgiving others?

 

From the cross, Jesus said, Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing. What does his statement reveal about the nature of true forgiveness? How does that idea contrast with your usual response to being wronged?

 

How does recognizing the depth of God’s love and forgiveness toward you shape your ability to (or struggle) to forgive others?

 

Peter wondered if forgiving someone seven times was sufficient. What are the dangers of placing conditions or limits on your willingness to forgive?

Search Me, O God!

Focal Passage: Psalm 139

About a year ago, my insurance provider told me that my health plan dropped the internist and cardiologist l went to for 20-plus years. That’s insurance-speak for, “They wouldn’t agree to what they can charge and what we will pay.” That’s the health-care business in today’s America. I began to look for new doctors within the provider’s plan.

I found a new internist quickly enough. I like her, but to be honest, I didn’t know “teenagers” were allowed to practice medicine. Goodness! She looks young! She certainly seem skilled and current on the most modern medical procedures and practices, maybe even more so than my “old” doctors. May all that new knowledge prove beneficial to my health. That’s the hope.

Aside from the endless paperwork, finding a new doctor came with the inevitable need for her to personally verify my health status. Despite having my old records transferred, my new physician insisted on conducting her own series of tests, scanning, probing, and imaging almost every part of me

When I asked if the new tests were necessary, she said she could only tell so much by looking at past records. She wanted to search what is hidden to reveal the good and the bad, the beneficial and harmful, so they could know me better, inside and out. Okay. Fine.

My angst associated with all this testing, other than the cost of meeting my deductible, was that she might actually uncover something that I’d rather not think about or deal with. This new, young internist, a female version of Doogie Howser, M.D. (for those old enough to remember ‘90s television), sensed my discomfort.

She reached over, patted my hand, like she might her own doddering grandpa, and told me not to worry. If they found anything, she’d find a way to treat it and put me on a path to healing and a healthy future. Her compassion felt sincere. Plus, you’ve got to respect the unbridled confidence.

The good news for me is that none of those tests, scans and probes uncovered anything worse than the need to lose 30 pounds. Mission accomplished.

I had not given that much thought over the past few months until I read Psalm 139 this week. David wrote of his own experience with the Great Physician. I so love this Psalm in its entirety because it tells you and me that we are deeply loved and fully known by God! The Almighty! The Creator of the Universe!

Stunning! Absolutely amazing!

David, the presumed writer of this Psalm, marvels at how God knows us perfectly. Every action. Every undertaking. Even the manner in which we pursue each step of life before we take that first stride. He knows our thoughts before they are fully crystalized in our own minds. God is always present with us. There is no place we can hide from him, a fact that is surprisingly more comforting than threatening. David feels God’s presence with him through every aspect of life.

God knows these things about David because he has already run the scans. He’s already examined the shepherd king. You see, to David, God’s knowledge stems from knowing him before the creation of the world, while he was yet a dream in the hearts of his parents. David recognizes that he was “fearfully and wonderfully made,” not just physically, but in the very fabric of who he is…his emotions, his personality, his interests, his relationships. Psalm 139 is a celebration of the divine care provided by the Great Physician.

What David understands for himself, we must understand for ourselves. You and I are known by the same God who knew David and we’re known just as well.

Let me encourage you. Stop reading this right now and read Psalm 139 from that perspective. Then, you can come back and finish this.

I read Psalm 139 from beginning to end this week…a couple of times. It was the beginning and the end that kept calling me. Look at the beginning.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. (Psalm 139:1)

The Hebrew word haqar translated as “searched” means more than a cursory TSA scan or pat down. Haqar suggests to search out, investigate, explore or probe. It means taking a deep dive into something to learn all one can learn about the subject. To go beneath the surface to uncover the hidden things.

So Psalm 139:1, tells me that what was true for David is true for us. You and me. Before the world began, God thoroughly and intimately investigated or probed everything about us. The scan probed not only the person we let everyone else see, but also the person we hide from even our closest friends. The person we try, at times, to hide from God. God explored every strand of our spiritual DNA. He did all of this while still deciding where to hang the stars.

There is more to this opening verse. Yada, the Hebrew word for “known,” expresses intimacy, perception and understanding. Because he searched so deeply, he knows what makes us tick. He understands how we will respond to any situation. Hear it in David’s prayer. He acknowledges God knows when he sits or stands, knows what he’s thinking even before those thoughts gel in his own mind. God is “familiar with all my ways” and “even before a word is formed on my tongue, you know it completely.”

For someone like me who spent a career measuring his words and someone whose innate shyness and hidden insecurities often kept people at arms-length, that can be a scary proposition. God knew my thoughts before I had them. My words before I spoke them. God knew me intimately before I was born.

While I do find it a little convicting, I find it far more comforting. There is someone out there who knows me both as the person I am and the person I was created to be.

God sees every sin. Every tumor of disobedience showed up on his scans. Every hidden sin, bad attitude or break from his righteousness that I try to hide showed up on my x-rays. That’s convicting. Because of his intimate knowledge of what makes Kirk “Kirk,” he also knows who I can be if I only do what the doctor ordered. That’s so comforting.

Just as I am fully known by God, I am fully loved by God. For everyone struggling to live up to what we perceive as God’s expectations, that is music to our ears.

As David reflects on all the ways he is known and still loved, he ends this beautiful poem with the desire for more tests to be run.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139:23-24)

Note the intentional similarities between verses 1 and 23. The former usage, stated in the past tense, shows the psalmist’s realization that God has already studied in depth who he is and who he can be. That God knows him inside and out because he scanned his innermost being.

The grammatical shift in verse 23 moves from past tense to an imperative. The psalmist expressed an urgent plea for the God to keep looking into his heart. Keep testing and probing his every thought and deed. David knew that to become the man God wanted and needed him to be, he must allow God to continually assess his motivations, measuring how he thinks, believes and acts. David, like any good patient who wants to stay healthy, asks God in no uncertain terms, “Keep running your tests. Keep searching my heart.”

Why?

David’s prayer essentially says, “God, during your search, if you find me doing something I should not be doing, being something I shouldn’t be, lead me toward your righteousness. The plea is no longer only a theological observation of an omniscient and loving God as it was in verse 1. It is a personal prayer of surrender and openness to the God who knows and loves him.

Shouldn’t that be my prayer every day? The prayer of every believer every day?

Our desire cannot be that God should know us in the abstract. David wanted to tap into that knowledge to help him become a better man. That ought to be our mindset. It ought to be our prayer that God would search our hearts and identify for us the issues within, so we can ask our Great Physician to remove the hurtful parts of us and to put us on the path that Jesus walked. To be more like him. The eternal path.

God’s refining and healing work to not just open the doors to eternal life, but to enable us to walk each day on the path that aligns with God’s eternal purpose and will. A life reflective of God’s character and truth. Daily living in obedience, faith and integrity shaped and measured by God’s eternal purpose.

The entire Psalm blesses and humbles me. That God has known me from the beginning of time and still loved me enough to offer his son to bear the burden of sin that was mine to bear, reveals a love of unfathomable depth. That he knows me as well as he does and still engages with me, is mercy unimaginable. What a blessing!

Be reminded that you have purpose and value in God’s eyes. This Psalm is a humble invitation to God to look deeply into our hearts, discover every malignant and sinful tumor within us and treat it. To put us on a path of righteous healing and healthy spiritual growth.

Be comfortable in God’s presence. Live transparently before the God who knows us better than anyone…even better than we know ourselves.

There is something so very comforting when the Great Physician runs his tests. Let him pat your hand like you are his doddering old grandpa. His compassion is sincere.

Let him tell you not to worry…that if he finds anything, he’ll find a way to treat it and put you on the path to healing and a healthy future.

I promise. You will find your strength in his unbridled confidence.

Thinking Points

Why does God “searching” and “knowing” you so deeply make you feel comforted, or anxious or both?

Can you think of a time when you felt being “seen” or “known” by God? How did that experience affect your relationship with him?

 

David prays for God to continue searching him and revealing any hidden issue. What areas of your life are you willing (or hesitant) for God to probe right now?

 

In what ways does knowing that God truly understands and knows who you’ve been, who you are and who you can be help you face your own weaknesses, sins or fears?

 

How does the metaphor of God as the Great Physician shape your understanding of spiritual growth and healing?

 

An Oasis for Authentic Worship

Background Passages: Psalm 84:1-2; Romans 12:1-2

Sitting in Mr. Wallace’s sixth grade world geography class made an impression on this West Texas farm boy. As nice as he could be, he had a dry way of teaching, reminiscent of the economics teacher played by Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off…”Anyone? Anyone?”

While not overly exciting in his presentation, he opened up a world of places I assumed I’d never get to see in person.

While I admit our farm didn’t get a lot of rain, I was fascinated by the world’s great deserts and even more intrigued by the oases that dotted the desert landscape.

The Jubbah oasis sits in the middle of Saudi Arabia’s Nefud Desert, a smudged green basin in an endless sea of sand dunes. Archeological evidence suggests that humans have continuously occupied the site for at least 10,000 years, a testament to changing climate patterns and human resilience.

The freshwater lake at Jubbah exists as it has for thousands of years, an oasis in the middle of a vast desert emptiness thanks to a quirk of local geography.

Due west of Jubbah sits Jebel um Sanman, a massive sandstone formation rising abruptly 1,300 feet above the desert floor. The strong westerly winds rushing across the flat desert terrain hit the rock, breaking around it like water cut by a ship’s bow. For much of human history, the rock has protected the lake, leaving the oasis unscathed, a respite for weary and thirsty travelers.

Can you imagine the nomadic lifestyle of the region that depended upon finding that green oasis in the middle of such a vast and empty space? Your life depended on finding water to drink and shade as a respite from the desert heat. I imagine they longed to see it come into view. Yearned for it.

The thought of oasis came to mind this week as I read Psalm 84. It is a song probably sung by those Jews on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, a trek they were required to make at least once a year for the sole purpose of worshipping at God’s temple. The Psalm is a song of yearning, longing for the chance to be in God’s house to offer sacrifices of praise and worship.

As I read the Psalm, it made me think. Is church, being with God’s people engaged in worship, my oasis?

Do I truly long to be in God’s house? Do I yearn for his fellowship? Is it really my heart’s desire to seek him out, to worship God as Jesus said, “in truth and spirit?” Do I sincerely long to be in his presence?

Look at how the psalmist’s deepest desire is to spend time with God.

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living Lord…Blessed are those who dwell in your house. They are ever praising you. (vs. 1-2, 4)

His soul aches so much to be in God’s temple that he grows faint. It’s not just something he wants to do. Worshipping his Lord is something he must do. When his heart cries out for God it expresses the hunger of a starving man or the thirst of one lost in the desert.

Picture a newborn infant, longing for its mother’s milk. That baby cries with its whole body. Arms punch out. Legs kick. Its face a mask of agony, crying out for what it needs. That’s the psalmist’s image. There is such an aching desire to be in God’s house. His whole being screams for it.

When I read those words, I realize how much I take for granted my presence at church every week. While I don’t consider it an obligation, I’m not sure I always approach worship with the same sense of urgency expressed by the psalmist. Where the only bad thing about worshipping in church each Sunday is that I have to count the days before I can do it again.

The psalmist talks about how he envies the birds that make their nests in the temple because they live each day in God’s presence and under God’s protection. I like the image it conveys. The birds lay their eggs and raise their young inside the walls of the temple courts. It is a place for their young to be safe. Isn’t that a great metaphor?

It’s easy as parents of children and teenagers to get so involved in other activities that church becomes less of a priority. My wife and I certainly felt that tug when our boys were young. Still, when Moms and Dads set an example by “building our nests” in God’s presence and under his protection, when our children see the value we place on worship, worship becomes priority for them.

Church ought to be a place for families. It ought to be a place where the “village” helps raise the young. As I grew up in that little First Baptist Church in Ropesville, I knew in some way every adult there was my parent…Sunday School teachers who helped lay out what God required of me. I knew they all wanted me to grow in my understanding of God’s love and grace. I certainly knew if I misbehaved, those “parents” would correct me and then let my parents know of my poor choices. They helped raise me.

Any child raised in the church and loved by God’s people is blessed.

The Valley of Baca referenced in verse 5 translates in the Hebrew more closely to the valley of weeping…a place of trouble and sorrow. The people of God on pilgrimage to Jerusalem to worship in the temple had to pass through this normally dry and barren place. It represents the difficult part of their journey to Jerusalem.

However, along the way, God provided rains that made pools of water that refreshed and rejuvenated the worshippers as they journeyed to meet in God’s house.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength before each appears before God in Zion. (vs. 4-7)

This introduces the concept of God and God’s house as an oasis, a respite from life’s burdens. Blessed…happy…content is the person who finds fulfillment and renewal when worshipping God.

I like what the psalmist said about those whose have “hearts set on pilgrimage.” Our faith journey is a pilgrimage from its beginning until it’s end. Always learning. Always growing. Always gaining understanding about God’s grace and his love for us. Always figuring out from one day to the next what it means to live a Christlike life. The pilgrimage is not always easy, but it is always best when walked with God…when we find God’s house as an oasis in the middle of life’s desert.

As I sit here this week, pondering my own worship experiences, I admit that I don’t always walk into the sanctuary in my church with a heart longing to be in God’s presence. At least, not in the same sense of yearning expressed by the psalmist. I must do better. If my heart is not ready to experience God, I find I don’t always find respite from my troubles.

Here’s the truth, though. God is my oasis. He is that point of renewal and rejuvenation. Just like that desert nomad, however, if I miss the oasis, if I don’t come with a heart yearning for God, I won’t find the waters that quench my thirst or find respite in the shade of God’s loving presence.

It starts with my attitude. It starts in my heart. It starts with my approach to worship.

The passage says essentially, “I can find contentment when the highlight of my week is when I get to worship God within a body of believers who yearn just as much to be in God’s presence as I do. While worship is a matter between God and me, it is greatly enhanced in the presence of others who have also set their hearts on the pilgrimage.

Remember Jebel um Sanman. The 1,300-foot rock redirects the wind and sand that would overwhelm and consume the lake at Jubbah that gives life to those who rest by its waters. Without the rock, there would be no oasis, no life.

Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the Lord is my sun and my shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold for those whose walk is blameless. Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you. (vs. 10,12)

God and his church (the people of faith, not the building) stand as that protective rock that redirects the ill winds that blow our way. Better is one day in worship to God than a thousand days doing anything else. That’s the way it ought to be!

I get another chance tomorrow to find rest in God, my oasis, through Jesus his son. So do you. We’ll find that together only when we come with hearts prepared to worship., yearning for the chance to commune with our father in heaven.

So whether you are with me at South Main Baptist Church or among a congregation of your own choosing, listen as Paul tells us what true worship looks like.

I urge you therefore, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any more to the pattern of this 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 12:1-2)

I pray you’ll find your oasis this Sunday.

Raise the Bar

Background Passages: 2 Peter 1:5-9; Galatians 5:16 and Philippians 3:10-14
The streak of laziness that runs through my bones was never more evident than my high school track career. I tried out for every field event in an effort to escape any serious running events. While I had a small measure of success in the shot put, my efforts at the broad jump, high jump and pole vault might be classified as dismal.
I found the sand pit too far from the foul line and the pole vault abjectly frightening. I really wanted to do the high jump, but my technique and general lack of skill ended that dream.
A few years after my high school efforts, my cousin Paul advanced to the Texas state championship in the high jump and eventually took his skill to college where he set a personal best of 6’10”. He fell just short of the world record…had he been jumping in 1937. (I hope God will forgive me for that family dig even if Paul doesn’t.)
I don’t know for sure how high the bar was when the competition started back when Paul was back in college. I’d be stunned if they started the event at 6’10”. Paul most certainly worked up to his personal best in incremental steps. Each jump built upon the success of the preceding jump. Chances are my cousin never would have cleared his personal best without raising the bar along the way.
I found myself wondering this week if that’s what Peter had in mind as he began his second letter to the early Christian churches. To grow in our spiritual maturity, Peter said we need to be willing to raise the bar along the way.
Peter tells those early Christians and those who follow them, that God has given us everything we need to live a godly life. We just have to keep raising the bar of excellence and spiritual maturity. Read his words.
For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love. 
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.” (2 Peter 1:5-9)
Because God has given us everything we need to live a godly life, we must keep pushing ourselves toward a deeper faith…a deeper and wiser spiritual maturity. We’ll never make that move if we keep the bar low.
Peter says we make an initial leap of faith in our trust of Jesus Christ as savior. We learn in Hebrews 11:6 that “without faith it is impossible to please God. “
Far too many seem to think that’s all that is required…and it is to a point…a true expression of faith in Jesus as savior puts you on the list of God’s redeemed.
That’s a little like clearing the bar at its opening height. Elite high jumpers have little difficulty clearing that first jump. Had any of them been content with that first jump, they might not have tried higher heights.
Placing our faith and trust in Jesus as savior is a great first jump. Staying at that height does not grow our faith. It does not allow us to stretch our understanding of who God is and what he asks of us.
Read through that list of character traits Peter shares. Nothing within them suggests a random order. Each trait builds upon the preceding trait. He says make sure you add to your faith a life of goodness. Making right choices. Virtuous. Pure. Live a life that reflects Christ in you. Letting God’s way be your standard. That seems a natural evolution of our faith commitment. Declare your faith then live a life of virtue and purity.
As you begin to live a life that reflects Christ, you gain knowledge into his teachings, discerning what is right and what he requires of those who follow him. You gain an understanding of the nature of God and thus the nature he desires for us.
Paul’s words to the Philippians would reinforce this thought.
“Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things. (Philippians 4:8)
As time passes and we invest ourselves in God’s word, we gain an understanding and knowledge of how he lived and the words he spoke. Such understanding enables us to deepen our faith and expand and enhance the good we are doing.
Then, we raise the bar higher. Finding the self-control or discipline to resist our former way of life and the temptations that will surely come. It is getting a grip on our passions in order to stay focused and committed to what we’ve been taught in God’s word. This, then, leads to a stronger faith, a goodness that seldom wavers because we continue to grow in our knowledge of his will and way.
Perseverance speaks to the ability to stay the course when days get more difficult. To persist in our pursuit of godly character even when it is hard to do so. It is the patience to keep exercising our faith, goodness, knowledge gained and discipline to remain strong during hard times. The ability to fight off the temptation to abandon what we believe and know when circumstances don’t go our way.
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross… (Hebrews 12:2-3)
Raise the bar yet again because as we stay strong in the face of hardship, we are demonstrating a deep respect for God and his love for us. The call to live a life of godliness suggests a faith that is practiced and practical. It is simply the faith we put into practice. We determine to be more and more like him in pursuit of the godliness…being Christ-like…in the way we live and relate to those around us, especially those who are outcasts.
James put it this way in his brief letter.
Religion that God our father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (James 1:27)
It is this raised bar of Christian living that demands we love those who persecute us. Insists that we love the sinner but reject the sin. Encourages us to wrap our arms around those society pushes aside.
Jesus raised the bar for his disciples when he told them that the evidence of their godliness is in the gentleness, kindness and grace extended toward our fellow believers. In their love for one another.
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  (John 13:35)
It is a picture of grace and forgiveness within the body of Christ that builds up the church rather than tearing it down. Our brotherly kindness and love is the light of Christ reflected through the church that invites the unbeliever to consider a life with Christ. It is this light that opens the door of salvation to a lost world.
It is the love that allowed Peter and Paul to embrace the faith of the Gentile believers. It is the love that forgives the hurt caused by our fellow believer so that church continues to model God’s love for the world. It is the love that makes a church a church.
“And, now, these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (I Corinthians 13:13)
Peter raises the bar one last time in this passage. Read the words again.
…add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control, and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and brotherly kindness, love.
Peter goes beyond brotherly love when he suggests that we will reach new heights when we learn to love each other as God loved. This is agape love. It is a love abounding from our hearts by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. It is the spark that compels us to go out of our way to share our faith, to love those who others deem unlovable. To reach into the community to meet needs expecting nothing in return.
May the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another and for all men, just as we also do for you. (I Thessalonians 3:12)
The list Peter shares may seem daunting. Who could live a life like this other than Jesus Christ? Each characteristic he asks us to pursue reflect the character of God himself. Take a look at verse 4 immediately preceding our primary passage in 2 Peter 1. Peter declares that God gave us his gift of salvation and his promises so that we might “participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world…”
These traits of our heavenly father are the traits he wants to see evident in the lives of those who believe in him. The list Peter shares is not a “how to,” but rather a statement about what is possible. That a focused and committed life can keep raising the bar of excellence as we become more Christ-like. It is a process and is something to which we can strive. Peter is giving us a picture of what we can become if we make spiritual maturity a priority.
I’ve lived almost seven decades on this earth. I wish I could declare that I’ve cleared the bar set by God. I’m certain I have not. It is a growth process, even until the day we die.
Christian growth and maturity is neither automatic nor a matter of time. Growth occurs as we consistently and obediently seek to grow…as we hurdle each bar…with the power and help of God’s spirit and the faithful study of God’s word.
Peter offered us both an encouraging word and a warning in 2 Peter 1:8-9.
For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from past sins.”
We said earlier the reason we seek after these traits is to understand the character of God and participate in that divine nature. Then, we must consistently demonstrate these traits in our lives in increasing measure each day we live. To be effective and productive in our knowledge of Jesus.
To simply let that initial faith commitment slide suggests we’ve forgotten what Jesus did for us on the cross.
I’ll make one last connection. Peter’s choice of character traits in his second letter to believers is similar to the fruit of the Spirit Paul discusses in some of his letters. Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5 as the qualities God produces in us through the work of the Spirit.
The key to manifesting the fruit of the Spirit, according to Galatians 5:16, is to walk in the Spirit. A spiritual lifestyle choice. This passage in Peter tells us how to walk in the Spirit, constantly jumping the higher bar of spiritual maturity.
I want to know Christ and the power of the resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings…Not that I have attained all of this or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me…but one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining forward to what is ahead. I press on… (Philippians 3:10, 12-14)
I hope you will join me in making that thought a commitment in the days to come. Maybe we can clear the next bar together.

But God

Background Passages: Genesis 50:16-21; Romans 5:6,8; Ephesians 2:1-7

Every English teacher I ever had in school harped constantly on the use of strong, active verbs, almost to the point of sucking the joy out of writing.

I can still see that smattering of red ink circles drawn around certain verbs in my essays with a line to the margin indicating, in no uncertain terms, that my teacher was disappointed in my verb choice. I measured the quality of my paper less on the grade and more on the number of times I had to read Ms. Falks’ scribbled note in the margin that just said, “weak.”

I will come out of the closet today and admit that I have always enjoyed grammar. One of my favorite parts of speech is the lowly conjunction. In case you need a reminder, conjunctions are words that link other words, phrases or clauses together. Conjunctions allow a writer to form complex, elegant sentences by avoiding the choppiness of multiple short sentences.

My favorite conjunction is the word but. Its most common usage introduces a phrase or clause that contrasts with another phrase or clause which has already been stated. For instance, “He stumbled, but did not fall.”

But always makes a bolder and grander statement in a sentence than does and, if, or so. When it comes to these statements like these, the bigger, the better.

My thoughts this week germinated during last week’s Sunday School lesson about Joseph and his brothers. Near the end of that biblical narrative in Genesis 50, Joseph’s father Jacob had died. His brothers, who sold him into slavery when he was young, feared that Joseph would seek revenge on them now that Jacob was no longer in the picture.

They concocted a lie, putting words in Jacob’s mouth. Read what the Bible says about it. Look for that conjunctive phrase.

So they sent word to Joseph, saying, “Your father left these instructions before he died. This is what you are to say to Joseph: ‘I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they have committed in treating you so badly. Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father.’” When the message came, Joseph wept.

His brothers then came and threw themselves down before him. “We are your slaves,” they said. (Genesis 50:16-18)

Joseph responded to their deceitful plea in an unexpected way.

Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid, I will provide for you and your children. And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them. (Genesis 50:19-21)

Did you see it? “You intended harm, BUT GOD…”

What a big but! The words written after but God suggests a biblical truth written in a slightly different manner in the New Testament.

For we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

It’s a great lesson, but not today’s lesson.

As I reflected on that lesson last Sunday, those two words kept resurfacing. But God. We see the use of but God or but the Lord at least 61 times in scripture. One thing unfolds, but God uses it to reveal his character, to teach us something we need to learn or accomplish, or to bring about his will or his purpose.

The waters flooded the earth for a hundred and fifty days, but God remembered Noah… (Genesis 7:24-8:1)

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (I Samuel 16:7)

Similar instances occur in the New Testament.

No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you can bear. (I Corinthians 10:13)

He said to them, “You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to associate with or visit a Gentile. But God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean.” (Acts 10:28)

Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, for which I am suffering even to the point of being chained like a criminal. But God’s word is not chained.”(2 Timothy 2:8-9)

Study those passages on your own if you choose but notice how the phrase that comes after but God reveals so much about who God is and what he desires for us. The more I find that phrase mentioned in the Bible, the keener I am to pay attention to the words that follow. In every instance, there is a truth I probably need to hear.

The phrase, time and time again, introduces the gracious and compassionate intervention of God. He redeems. He resurrects. He makes all things new. He instructs. He is strength. He provides. He is faithful. When we erect a façade as a barrier to keep the world away, he sees straight into our hearts.

I said all of that to say this. This weekend is Palm Sunday, leading up to our celebration on Easter. There may be no greater use of the phrase but God among Christians than what you find in the Easter narrative.

Here’s the message of Easter in one simple but God statement.

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6, 8)

The message of Easter is one big but God. All hope seems gone. All seems lost. Then, we see this but God moment on the cross and in the empty tomb. Those words should have been the sign Pilate inscribed for his cross…not “He claimed to be King of the Jews,” but God.… It is the crux of his redemptive work and Paul knew it.

God waited until just the right moment when we could understand the depth of his sacrificial love. When the time was right, he sent his son, even though we were powerless to do anything about it on our own and ungodly in our actions.

This inconceivable act of love was in the mind and heart of our omnipotent creator from the beginning. Even before God brought those first molecules of creation together, he knew his most precious creation would rebel against him. He knew you and I would be steeped in sin and in need of a way back to him. And he provided the way.

Paul testified as much to the church in Ephesus when he wrote these words.

As for you, you were dead in in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of the world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But God, being rich in mercy and because of his great love for us, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.” (Ephesians 2:1-5)

Through an act of unmitigated love and mercy, through an act of grace, you and I, as believers in Christ, experienced our but God moment at some point in our past. We find that the celebration will continue forever, according to Paul’s next words.

But God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in the kindness in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:6-7)

This is the ultimate reason for sacrificing his son on the cross. This is his reason for emptying the tomb. He wants us to one day experience his eternal grace…the joy of which is indescribable.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him. These are thing revealed to us by his spirit.” (I Corinthians 2:9-10)

“…But God…”

Maybe that’s the message some need to hear today. A simple paraphrase of one of the Bible’s most cherished verses.

But God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Maybe today can be their “but God” moment, making this Easter even more special.

For those of us who have already claimed that eternal promise and experienced our personal but God moment, what about here? What about now?

Because they reveal to me the character of the God I serve and the life he demands I live, every but God statement in scripture calls me to live a Christ-like life…even when I’m overwhelmed by the circumstances in which I’m living.

Claiming the promises of God is never easy, especially when overwhelming circumstances put us at wits end. You and I will struggle as we try to live as a disciple of Christ. While I don’t always follow through, it has been my experience that we can trust in those but God lessons we find in scripture.

In a recent blog, Lisa Appelo wrote, “But God brings hope when we can’t see a way through. But God means ashes aren’t the end of our story. And but God, not our circumstances, always gets the last word.”

In other words, go back to Joseph’s story, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done…”

That’s the story of Easter. Every but God is his grace gift and promise of eternity in heaven, but it is so much more. It is life abundant. Here. Now. But God is the peace that surpasses our understanding. It is knowing that God walks with us through the good and bad times of life, actively working in all things for the good of those who love him. But God is knowing that he has a plan for us and will actively work in our lives to see it happen in our lives.

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. (Jeremiah 29:11)

Wow! Just wow!

But God.

Another Great Question

Background Passages: Luke 6:46-49; Romans 7:15-24

Some of the best teachers I ever had were those who challenged me with probing questions designed to pique my curiosity. It was a method championed by the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates. When teachers ask questions rather than simply provide information, they encourage students to dig more deeply and actively explore their own beliefs.

As good as Socrates might have been, Jesus, I think, used questions masterfully in his teaching to help his disciples see past the letter of the law into the heart of God. His questions almost always opened their eyes to a new way of understanding God’s purpose and plan.

In my last blog, I looked at a question Jesus asked his listeners. “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” After looking into that challenge, I began to look for other questions Jesus asked. I found one in Luke 6 that intrigued me.

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

For years, one of my favorite shows on television was NCIS, starring Mark Harmon as Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the leader of a group of federal agents investigating crimes involving U. S. Navy personnel. When one of the agents under his command failed to grasp a key bit of information, Gibbs would often slap them on the back of the head as if to say, “Think!”

That’s what this scripture was to me this week…a slap on the back of my head. Why do I proclaim Jesus as my Lord and still do or not do what I know God’s word teaches me to do? It is a maddening tendency I expect I share with many other Christians.

It’s not a problem unique to me or to this time in history. You can hear the similar frustration in Paul’s words to the church in Rome.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do…For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do…this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is the sin living in me that does it.” (Romans 7:15, 18-20)

It makes the question Jesus asked even more poignant. “Why do you call me “Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

Let’s set the context of Jesus’ question.

Throughout Luke 6, the gospel writer shares a series of teachings of Jesus. If you read through the chapter, you’ll find Jesus talking about the blessings that come from following him and the woes that befall those who go their own way. Luke relays to us Jesus’ thoughts on loving our enemies, turning the other cheek, giving them the shirt off your back and gives a taste of the Golden Rule, “Do to others what you would have them do to you.”

The questions continue to probe our hearts when Jesus asks, “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.” “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

Luke continues with Jesus’ teaching on our desire to judge others. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged…Forgive and you will be forgiven…For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” In his message, Jesus warns us to remove the plank from our eyes before we complain about the speck in the eyes of another.

Finally, Luke shares a small parable from Jesus about a tree and its fruit, reminding us that “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” (Luke 6:43-45)

After all of those words where Jesus calls us to a different way of life, Luke says Jesus asked our question of the day. “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?”

Given our proclivity toward sin, it may be best to come to grips with what it means to call Jesus “Lord?”

When we use the term “lord” today, it is typically a verb, not a noun. Someone who abuses their power and authority is said to “lord it over” those who serve under them. It’s a negative connotation.

“Lord” becomes a noun in the Christian context. It is the person to whom we have surrendered our lives, submitted our will to the will of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Substitute “master” or “boss” if it is an easier concept to understand. One possessing absolute authority, power and control. It is a way of recognizing Jesus’ divine and holy position. Head of the church. Ruler of all creation. Lord of lords and King of kings.

When we make our faith commitment to Jesus as our Savior and Lord, we are turning our lives over to him. Surrendering complete control of our lives to his will and way. Submitting to his teaching and truth in all aspects of life. That means doing things, living life, his way…not my way.

When Jesus makes this statement, he is addressing those who have made that decision to put their trust in him. His followers. He’s not talking about the charlatans who pretend to be one of his disciples. He’s talking to those who made a genuine commitment to him but are struggling with living up to the standard he sets for us. He’s talking to me, and I suspect, he’s talking to you.

See what he says after asking his question?

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say? As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them in practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent stuck 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. The moment the torrent struck it collapsed and its destruction was complete.” (Luke 6:46-49)

Jesus drew upon his experience as a carpenter and stone mason to drive home a point. In what has become a beloved children’s Bible story, we find a great truth for all ages. When we decide to place our trust in Jesus, it is the biggest and greatest decision we will ever make. Making that decision is just the first step in making Jesus Lord of our lives.

We must build upon that commitment by becoming Christ-like. Growing in our obedience to his teachings. Building upon the truth he taught. Not just hearing his words but putting them into practice every day.

Why do we call him Lord and still do what we want to do?

Because it’s not easy. The foolish builder in Jesus’ parable, didn’t want to put in the work required to dig into the rock. He was short-sighted. It was easier and much less trouble to build in the sand. It may be easier to keep living the way we’re living before Christ became our Lord, but it brings disaster upon us. It may be difficult to do things Jesus’ way, to be obedient in all things, but that brings unparalleled security in the face of life’s flashfloods.

Theologian William Barclay said, “In every decision in life there is a short view and a long view. Happy is the man who never barters future good for present pleasure. Happy is the man who sees things not in the light of the moment, but in the light of eternity.”

It’s far easier to say the right words than to live them out every day. Yet, that is exactly what we are called to do. So, it takes us back to what Jesus talked about before this remarkable question. We must love those who don’t love us back. Do good for those who do us harm. Put aside our judgmental attitudes. Forgive those who wrong us. Be merciful. In general, treat others as we would want them to treat us.

It’s not enough to give lip service to our faith. Every day must be a concerted, if occasionally flawed, effort to live as Jesus lived.

Here’s the good news. The grace of God does not require us to be perfect. His love and his mercy trump my inability to live as I should each day. His grace gives me another chance to rebuild the shattered walls on a firmer foundation of faith.

After Paul expressed his frustrations with his own inability to do what he knows he should, he praised God for his deliverance.

“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God who delivers me through Jesus Christ, my Lord.” (Romans 7:24-25)

That pretty much sums it up for me. I don’t want to be one of those Jesus followers who never moves past that initial faith commitment. I want to be one of those hears his word and tries with all my heart and soul to put those words into practice.

Jesus’ question is a great one. “Why do you call me “Lord, Lord” and do not do what I say?”

What answer would you give today?

As Time Goes By

Background Passages: Psalm 90; Ephesians 5:15-20; Colossians 4:5-6 and Matthew 25:23

You must remember this.
A kiss is just a kiss,
A sigh is just a sigh,
The fundamental things apply,
As time goes by.

Written in 1931 by Herman Hupfeld, As Time Goes By leapt to fame when it was featured in the 1942 Warner Brothers film Casablanca, performed by Dooley Wilson as Sam. The popularity of the song through the years is in the way it evokes a strong feeling of nostalgia…of regret and remorse over opportunities missed.

We flipped the page to another calendar year last week. It seems natural that the dawning of a new year causes us to reflect on the past as we look with either expectation or dread to the coming year.

Time is a weird concept when you think about it. When asked by a report to explain his theory of relativity in simple terms, Albert Einstein only half-jokingly responded by saying, “The only reason for time is to keep everything from happening at once.”

Here’s what I know about time. One can have too much time or too little time. Sometimes, there is never enough time. The days can be the best of times or the worst of times. We can make time, waste time, take time and spend time. I know that time heals all wounds and that time is money. It can be his time, but not her time. Time flies and time stands still. None of that explains what we are to do with our time.

According to Hal Borland, noted author and journalist, “Year’s end is neither an end nor a beginning, but a going on.”

As a younger man, the new year brought a sense of excitement, offering a fresh start. As I have lived out my 69 trips around the sun, the pragmatist in me tends to agree with Borland, a new year is simply “going on.” Just another day on the calendar.

American poet Mary Oliver appeals to the dream in me when she invites us into a new year. “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.” In a way, that makes time a God thing…a gift that is more than simply “going on.” Each passing day gives way to the unimaginable presence and purpose of God in our lives. Time is a God thing.

Though the Bible never explicitly says that time is God’s gift, it certainly implies it. Genesis tells us God created the heavens and the earth in the darkness. As he hovered over the depths of the sea, he spoke time into existence.

“Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God call the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning…the first day…and God saw that it was good. (Genesis 1:3-5, 9b)

Isn’t it interesting? God, who is “from everlasting to everlasting” (Psalm 90:2), had no need for the concept of time, but the finite beings he created would need to understand the limits placed on human existence.

“The length of our days is seventy years…or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)

If that sounds too much like Borland’s rueful lament, we just need to keep reading God’s word to find Oliver’s unimaginable. Knowing that our time on earth has a beginning and end, the Psalmist goes on to say…

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

That’s an important point of a new year, don’t you think? To gain a heart of wisdom? It’s critical because there are some really unwise ways to live. I don’t even need to look at the lives of others to know that. All I have to do is look at some of the choices I’ve made in the last year.

A heart of wisdom tells me to not place my hopes and dreams, my identity or my worth on things that will pass away as time goes by. Rather, my hopes, dreams, identity and worth can only be found in my relationship with God who made me and sustains me. Because he is eternal and his promises to me are eternal I should live my life for him and trust the work he has given me. That’s why the Psalmist ends his song with this.

“May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands.” (Psalm 90:17)

Each new year is God’s gift of time, a not-so-subtle reminder that life is finite…too short…to make plans that ignore God’s plan and will for us…to ignore the work he has established for our hands to do. That lays a responsibility upon every believer to use the time we’ve been given wisely.

Because Paul understood this responsibility to live wisely, he told believers in Ephesians and Colossians to “redeem the time.”

Be very careful, then, how you live…not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity (redeem the time (KJV), because the days are evil. Therefore, do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is…speaking to one another with psalms, hymns and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Ephesians 5:15-17, 19-20)

His message to the Colossian church hit a similar theme.

Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity (redeem the time (KJV)). Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. (Colossians 4:5-6)

To redeem is to buy back. To give back something in exchange for what we have already been given.

To redeem the time or make the most of every opportunity suggest that we pay God back for the time he gives us by worshipping him in heart and spirit, constantly thanking him for all he has done for us. We redeem the time or make the most of every opportunity by speaking words of grace to a lost world. Letting our words and our deeds be a testimony to the love and grace of God in our lives.

Perhaps, there is no greater testimony than the life described in Micah 6:8.

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)

I wish I could look back on 2022 and say I lived those godly ideals every day. I suspect you’re no different. There is little we can do to change the past. There are, however, lessons to be learned from those experiences that guide us in the days to come.

Shauna Niequist is a Christian writer and author of Present Over Perfect. Her words may be the words we need to hear at the start of this new year.

“I used to think that the ability to turn back time would be the greatest possible gift, so I could undo all the things I wish I had not done. But grace is an even better gift because it allows me to do more than just erase the past; it allows me to become more than I was when I did those things. It’s forgiveness without forgetting, which is much sweeter than amnesia.”

Maybe Borland and Oliver were both right. The new year is a going on. It is also the doorway to the unimaginable. I know it is a new chance to redeem the time we’ve been given.

In the parable of the Talents, Jesus tells us that we are responsible for using what God has given us to bring him glory and honor. While he is not speaking specifically of time in the context of the parable, it does not take a great leap to see its application.

He tells the story of a rich man who has three servants. He gives each servant an amount of money (Talents) and asks each servant to be good stewards of what he has been given. The first servant is given five talents and uses it to produce five more. The second servant is given two talents and doubles his investment. The third servant, fearful of doing something that might displease the rich man, buried his talent. When he was called to account for what he was given, he dug up the coin and returned the single coin to his master.

The servant who hid the coin was scolded for his laziness. Those who made the most of their opportunity heard a different word.

“Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.” (Matthew 25:23)

So as time goes by, let’s celebrate the amazing grace of God. Let’s redeem the time. Let’s make the most of every opportunity in the time we’ve been given to worship and serve the God who is worthy of our worship and service.

That’s my hope for my new year and my hope for you in the days to come. When we close the book on 2023, I hope we can all hear the voice of our timeless Father saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

That would truly be a Happy New Year.

Less of Me

Background Passages: John 15:1-3; Matthew 28:18-20; Galatians 5:22-23

Auxano.

Until the past month, this was not a familiar word to me. Greek in its etymology, Auxano means “to grow” or “to increase.” You’ll find the word scattered in verses throughout the New Testament.

When Paul used the word in Ephesians 4:15 or when Peter used “auxano” in I Peter 2:2 and 2 Peter 3:18, it speaks to how Christians are to grow or mature in the faith.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:15)

“Like newborn babies crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.” (I Peter 2:2)

“But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 3:18)

Couple those concepts with how Luke used the word when he shared the results of the Holy Spirit’s work in the days after Pentecost in Acts 6:7.

“So the word of God spread. the number of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly, and a large number of priests became obedient to the faith.”

Auxano, then, speaks to our ability as God’s people to grow in our faith, to live as followers or disciples of Christ, so that we, in turn, can bring more people to Christ and help them grow as disciples.

I first heard the word used this month as our new pastor introduced a Wednesday night initiative we call “Auxano,” designed to build disciples of Christ…to grow deeper in our understanding of what it means to be his disciple and to equip us, then, to share our faith in a relational way with those who do not yet know God’s saving grace.

For me, it’s gut check time. What does being a disciple of Christ mean to me and how well am I fulfilling the promise I made to him when I made my profession of faith as a nine-year-old? I have to admit, my growth as a disciple has been punctuated by a few seasons of drought amid the life-giving rain.

Zach Williams wrote and sings a song on Christian radio these days called Less Like Me. The chorus, I think, points to the goal of discipleship. the lyrics read,

“A little more like mercy, a little more like grace.
A little more like kindness, goodness, love and faith.
A little more like patience, a little more like peace.
A little more like Jesus, a little less like me.”

Being a disciple of Christ does not forfeit the uniqueness of a God-created me. Being me, being you, is still important because he gifted each of us differently and wonderfully for the work he called us to do individually. It does demand, however, that I become a little less like me and a little more like Jesus by growing in his example…a life that exemplifies mercy, kindness, goodness, love, patience and peace. If those words sound familiar it’s because they echo Paul’s words in Galatians.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

As amazing as those God-given gifts may be, you’re only more like Jesus when you use his gifts to produce the spiritual fruit. These are the attitudes, behaviors and traits that someone who believes in Jesus and longs to be his disciple should demonstrate every day. Being a disciple of Christ means that we mature continually to be more like Christ.

Obedience to the teachings of Christ seems to be the key to discipleship. Everything he taught his disciples during his ministry on earth, he taught so they might be equipped to live as he lived. If you sit as a fly on the wall in the upper room, you’ll hear Jesus get serious with his closest followers.

As they finished eating together in the upper room on the night he was arrested, Jesus drew his disciples into a a deep conversation. He spoke of betrayal. He offered words of comfort when they seemed lost and confused. He promised the Holy Spirit as their constant companion in his absence. Then, he laid out the expectations he had for them to continue the work.

Drawing upon the familiar, he talked about the vine, its branches and the fruit it should bear.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You have already been prepared to bear fruit because of the teaching I have given to you. (John 15:1-3)

Within the imagery Jesus used, the vine is pruned to produce more fruit. A grower will prune extraneous branches that can siphon off the nutrients the plant needs. The main branches then grow stronger and produce more and better fruit. As we grow as Christians, we can let extraneous actions and attitudes sap the life out of our spiritual life. Jesus wants us to rid ourselves of those things that pull us away from living the life he has called us to live. To focus our lives on that which is important for us to do to further the kingdom of God. To be obedient to his teaching. To be his follower. His disciple.

We can’t begin to make that happen without spending time in his word. Paul reminded Timothy as he pastored the church in Ephesus that God’s word is the greatest teacher.

“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

In her Christian blog, Butterflly Living, Mary Rooney Armand talked about eight elements of spiritual growth and discipleship. She said, “When we understand and practice elements of spiritual growth, it helps us move in the right direction.” The critical elements to discipleship, she says, are to:

Become more selfless.
Adjust how we spend our time.
Be more generous with our resources.
Pursue peace rather than chaos.
Choose to forgive.
Build deeper relationships.
Spend more time with God in prayer and worship.
Focus on the eternal rather than the temporal.

Armand’s list aligns closely to that which Jesus taught in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) because it makes us more Christlike…more like a disciple of Christ.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German Lutheran pastor and theologian, wrote extensively about a Christian’s role in a secular world at a time when Hitler was on the rise in Nazi Germany. His resistance to Hitler’s rule cost him his life.

Bonhoeffer wrote Nachfolge in 1937. The book title’s literal English translation is “Following” or “The Act of Following.” English publishers gave it a more dramatic title, translating Nachfolge as The Cost of Discipleship. In this seminal work, Bonhoeffer uses Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount as a call to faithful discipleship in the face of the Nazi’s reign of terror. It’s teaching still resonates well in today’s world when the Christian faith needs to stand for something beyond politics.

Bonhoeffer wrote that “Cheap grace is the mortal enemy of the church. Our struggle today is for costly grace.” Bonhoeffer goes on to define cheap grace.

“Cheap grace is preaching forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession…Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”

Part of the struggle of being a disciple of Christ is recognizing that we are made for more than just salvation. That marvelous grace gift is of eternal significance, but it is not the end of God’s work in us. Our gratitude for what God did for us through Jesus Christ should compel us to walk as he walked. Talk as he talked. Grow in our role as disciple. Share the love, grace and purpose of Christ to a lost world.

It is making a conscious decision to auxano…to grow, in grace and knowledge of our Lord and auxano…to increase the number of those entering the kingdom of God.

Being a disciple of Christ should catapult us toward fulfilling every part of the Great Commission, making new disciples and teaching them all those things he is still teaching us.

Auxano.

Grow. Increase.

It seems like a good word to embrace.

We’d Best Get On With It

Background Passages: Luke 9:28-36, 2 Peter I:16-19; Matthew 28:18-20

I am a J. R. R. Tolkien fan. Unabashed.

Since first introduced to The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy over 40 years ago, I’ve read and re-read those books several times. The movies, the first of which was released in 2001, remain among my favorite movies.

Tolkien, a Christian from England, embedded biblical imagery throughout his books. In the Lord of the Rings, a hobbit named Frodo is chosen to destroy a certain ring that gives evil its power by casting it into the fires of Mordor. At one point stop along the way, Frodo believes he delivered the ring into more capable hands and can now go back home to his quiet shire.

It was not to be. Gandalf tells Frodo, “We have reached Rivendell, but the ring is not yet at rest.” Despite his desire to return to home and safety, Frodo realizes it is his responsibility to finish what he started.

As he struggles with that decision, Frodo’s best friend and companion on the journey, sums up the situation. He says, “I’ve never heard of a better land than this. It’s like being at home and on holiday at the same time, if you understand me. I don’t want to leave. All the same, I’m beginning to feel if we’ve got to go on, then we’d best get on with it.”

Sam and Frodo both realized as comfortable and glorious as it was, Rivendell was not their final destination.

Jesus must have felt something akin to that as he stood on the mountaintop during his transfiguration. As comfortable and glorious as it must have been to talk with Moses and Elijah, Jesus knew the ring was not at rest. There was still so much more to do. The most difficult part lay ahead. This glimpse of heaven was not the final destination.

It was certainly a message Peter and James and John needed to see and hear.

Jesus and his disciples retreated to Caesarea Philippi where Jesus could escape the crowds and teach them about the critical nature of his mission without interruption. The conversation about Jesus’ identity culminated with Peter’s declaration that Jesus was the anointed Messiah, the Son of God. Jesus used that confession to begin teaching about the suffering and death that lay ahead of him.

Peter especially didn’t like the implications of that which Jesus shared. Mark’s gospel tells us he pulled Jesus aside and “rebuked” him. Peter had the temerity to tell Jesus to quit talking like that. Despite his confession and all that Jesus shared with them, Peter and the others still failed to grasp exactly who Jesus was.

I have to think that conversation weighed heavily on Jesus’ mind as they journeyed back into Galilee. When he reached a certain point, Jesus left most of his disciples at the foot of a mountain. The Bible tells us what happened next.

“…he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.

“Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ (He did not know what he was saying.)

“While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘this is my son, whom I have chosen: listen to him. When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept this to themselves and told no one at that time what they had seen.” (Luke 9:28-36)

I’m not sure any of us truly know exactly what happened to Jesus during the transfiguration. By definition, he was changed. It’s not that bright spotlight from heaven lit him up like a rock star on stage. Jesus’ transformation came from within. One commentary said Jesus’ divine nature “broke through the limits of his humanity.” The light of glory shone from within causing the radiance appearance of his clothes. Don’t you love that interpretation?

I don’t know that Jesus needed the transfiguration to finish his task. The conversation surely meant something to him, however. From his words in Gethsemane, we know the human side of Jesus dreaded the suffering to come. I’ve read this passage many times, but this is the only time I realized what Moses and Elijah came to say. Did you see the topic of their conversation?

“They spoke to Jesus about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment in Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:31)

With his eyes fixed on the cross to come, Moses and Elijah came to encourage and urge Jesus to finish what he started. To keep moving forward to the purpose for which he was sent. To stay on the mountain as life passed by below would condemn the world to ruin. I suspect even Jesus needed to feel the encouragement of others.

It seems the real reason for the transfiguration had its roots in the conversation at Caesarea Philippi. It’s one thing to proclaim Jesus as Lord. It’s altogether a different thing to understand it…to have it transform your thinking and change your life.

When Jesus asked the disciples, “But you? Who do you say I am?” They recognized him for who he was, but still wanted to fit him into a familiar box…to have him behave as they needed him to behave within the social and political turmoil of the day.

“You are the Christ,” Peter declared while visions of victory parades danced in his head. “You are the Christ,” declared James and John while they held out hope for ruling seats of power within his kingdom.

So what did the transfiguration mean to these disciples?

Perhaps the things Jesus tried to explain to them since Caesarea Philippi took an emotional toll on the disciples. By the time they reached the top of the mountain, they grew weary. While Jesus went off to pray, his disciples took a nap.

When the transfiguration occurred, they were awakened by the sight of Jesus shining like a bolt of lightning, blinding in his radiance. I suspect I would have been a lot like Peter in that moment…a man not fully understanding what he had just seen and heard, but knowing it was significant.

Riveted in awe and wonder, he reacted with unbridled enthusiasm. Compared to the wonder of what they experienced the world below was just too harsh. The future Jesus shared…too unsettling.

Leave it to Peter to try to memorialize the moment. “Let’s set up a tabernacle for each of you. We don’t want to leave this place. Let’s stay right here.”

As those words escaped his mouth, a mist enveloped them. They trembled in fear. God’s voice cut through the cloud…a command that was also a plea.

“This is my son whom I have chosen. Listen to him.”

Hear God telling these critically important disciples, “You’ve seen who he is. You know it in your heart. You’ve said as much. Change your frame of reference about the Messiah. He is my Son. He’s telling you how it must be. For once in your life, listen to him…really listen.”

There on the mountaintop, God reminded those disciples, the ring is not at rest. The end game must play out before the world can be set right.

At the transfiguration, this inner circle of disciples who struggled to fully grasp who Jesus was, caught a glimpse of his heavenly glory. Jesus underwent a dramatic change in appearance so the disciples could see just a fraction of his heavenly glory.

Up to that point, the disciples knew him only by his human touch, the sound of his voice and the power of his miracles. Now, they came to a greater realization of the deity of Christ. God offered desperately needed reassurance in the form of a blinding light.

Even then, they didn’t always get it right. After the resurrection, however, that moment on the mountain made perfect sense. That’s why Peter could write with such certainty as one transformed by the transfiguration experience.

“We did not follow cleverly invented stories we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty… We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. (2 Peter 1:16-18)

So, the transfiguration reinforced in Jesus the purpose for which he had been sent into the world. It gave his disciples a chance to see beyond the human Jesus to the divine. To start listening, to pay attention to what Jesus was telling them about who he was and what he had to do.

What does the transfiguration mean to you and me?

It’s just as easy today to build a box in which to keep Jesus. He’s the genie I call on when I want something. He’s my excuse for taking a certain political stand. He is the author of pithy sayings that I quote to express my piety. We still too often make the mistake of failing to understand what his death on the cross and resurrection from the tomb means in a 21st century world.

We describe those times we have grown closest to Christ as our “mountaintop experiences.” We bask in the warmth of that feeling. Take a few selfies. Build a few tents and say, “I just want to stay here where it’s amazing and safe.”

That’s not our role any more than it was the disciples’ role. We follow a Christ who puts us in unbelieving world to be its transfiguring light, blazing bright enough from within so the world can see him in us.

The Christian church as a whole has stayed too long on the mountaintop. Stayed within the fellowship of believers. Celebrating the majesty of God and building our share of tents…all with a slightly distorted view of who he is. With this world struggling as it is, now is not the time to marvel. Jesus’ work through us is not finished. Maybe it’s time we “Listen to him.”

At the end of his earthly presence, Jesus commissioned those of us who now clearly understood who he is and what he did.

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you, always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28: 18-20)

I’m probably reading too much into Tolkien’s writings. I think he understood that God’s work in us is not yet finished. “The ring is not yet at rest.”

Read Tolkien’s words again. “I’ve never heard of a better land than this. It’s like being at home and on holiday at the same time, if you understand me. I don’t want to leave. All the same, I’m beginning to feel if we’ve got to go on, then we’d best get it on with it.”

Get on with it. Not with a sense of reluctance, but with the excitement born from a transfiguring and transforming experience with God’s son.

There is work to be done. We’d best get on with it.